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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years ago

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

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

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

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

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

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

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off.

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

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

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

Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly.

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

But now…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why, he had no idea.

But he did know one thing.

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

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

Then there was the blood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe he could coax you into a deal.

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

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

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

But first, he had to find you.

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

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

“Bakubroooooooo!”

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

The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except now the consequences were catching up to him.

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

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

“How bad?” he finally asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well… we should go get it from her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugo slammed the door in response.

~*~*~*~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The excuse felt flat, even to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

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

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

“Take the next left up ahead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was good enough for Bakugo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why were you afraid of him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needed to get you alone and get answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking hell, this was taking too long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could you leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. See you then.”

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

But that didn’t matter.

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

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the “converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins. “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, “Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims, finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend” and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something. Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.” She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1 Part 2

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“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

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smutandfluffohmy · 4 years ago

Text

His Sweater #2

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N: The time-line of events is altered for story telling purposes, something that will be very obvious if people want me to continue on with the story. I think this is the closest to slow burn I’ve gotten to in my entire fanfic career. Hope y’all can understand because asgyv my brain would rot if I tried to line it up with canon completely.

Read Part 1 here

I have no wand, no socks and I’m wearing a Gryffindors sweater. This could go south terribly fast and I’m hoping for any other cardinal direction. If all else fails I could always throw a punch and run to my bed.For the second time that morning I almost crashed into someone. Seriously an entire hallway but we are still walking on the same side.

Draco stared at me from my face to the sweater, I wish he would notice my bunny slippers too. I also wished he would’ve seen me earlier in my utter Slytherin colors pride.

“Interesting sweater y/l/n” Draco said breaking the silence, scrunching his eyebrows at me. I could feel the Slytherin pride sermon bubbling inside of him.

“Interesting ingredients Malfoy” I answered back. Ingredients to make draught of peace, I’m surprised he had the ingredients, I’m surprised he was nervous and I’m surprised he was going to do it with unkempt hair.

“This didn’t happen and we didn't see each other.” He stiffened, straightening his back the glass containers clinking together.

“Brilliant as always.” I smiled, nodding at him and he doing the same. I’m sure if someone was looking at us right now we looked comical with our overly formal head nods. Starting to walk past each other, both of us going to our destination and trying not to think much about the other on our walk there.

Me, George’s sweater and my bunny slippers were home free, all we had to do is get back to the dorms without bumping into anyone else. But I don't know if it’s my seniority over the kid or perhaps as Snape’s potions assistant I felt responsible or even because I was just worried that made me turn around “Draco.” I called out to him.

He stopped, turning to face me “Y/n.”

Perhaps I should tell him that it’s 7 drops of hellebore not 8, or maybe that it’s supposed to be stirred both counter and clock wise or how it has to simmer for exactly 7 minutes. “If it’s not silver don't drink it.” Was all I could say and by far the best advice I could give him.

“Dully noted.” He said giving me a tight lipped smile, almost forced as if I was forcing him to give me a smile. “Thanks.” he muttered underneath his breath, his tightlipped smile softening at the edges.

The walk back to the dorms was no longer nor shorter than the walk from. Tho I was a bit warmer on both the inside and the outside all thanks to George. Climbing the stairs down to the common room I felt tired and heavy.

I want to sleep.I wish I could sleep but I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I must just wake up to having found out this was all but a fleeting dream. Nothing more but a hot chocolate induced fever dream.

Slipping off my slippers I walked to the edge of the carpet. Curling my toes I wondered if the shock of the coldness would wake me up, still I had to know. Stepping on the cold floor I didn’t wake up nor did I bolt up in bed.The cold floor lets me know that this was real, I was truly awake. But I don't think one knows the true lengths the mind would go to to make up a dream.

Tiptoeing into my dorm I changed into my clothes for the day, taking extra care to fold George’s sweater in a way that both said ‘I took care of it for you’ and ‘I didn’t spend half an hour overthinking this’. Perhaps I was putting too much pressure on folding techniques but I wasn’t about to be exposed by the way sleeves folded over. Getting my school bag ready I laid everything out on the bed.

“Potions.Herbology.Alchemy” I said touching each textbook, books I’ve carried around a hundred times.But I was afraid my lack of sleep would magically turn my Herbology book into a history of magic and I wouldn’t realize till I was standing in Professor Sprouts class.

I spent all of breakfast looking for George but there was absolutely no sign of him. Every time I thought I spotted his hair from across the dinning hall it was just Ron, twice it was just Ginny and once even an overly toasted plate of hash browns.

My first class was to help Snape. A couple of over brewed potions helped keep me on my toes and for that I was grateful.

Second was alchemy.Where nothing particularly interesting happened and had me periodically sticking my hand in my bag just to double,triple, quadruple check that George’s jumper didn’t grow legs and run away.

Third was Herbology. The class I was waiting for, finally a class with Gryffindors that the Weasley twins were in. Walking a bit too quickly and a bit too excitedly to class I wasn’t the first to get there.I blame it on the ever moving stairs. Professor Sprouts lesson dragged on too long for my liking or maybe it was the fact that I was drilling holes at the back that George’s head that made it all drag on.

“Mind the Mandrakes children.” Professor Sprout said with a wave of her hand leaving us to work. Perhaps it was age that made you think of anyone younger than you as children, but we were all very grown up thank you very much.

Leaning over the table I whispered “Psst George.”. No movement.

“George” I called out a bit louder but again no efforts to look back at me. Blimey perhaps it was just how tall he was that he couldn’t hear me from up there or maybe he was just that hard of hearing.

“Bloody hell Weasley I’m calling you.” I called out again poking him with my wand, surely he wasn't hard of hearing and touch desensitized enough to ignore me. Reaching closer in an attempt to tug at his robes my wand fell to the ground as a shrill screech filled the class.

“What?Sorry can’t hear anything over the Mandrake” George said turning to face me, shrugging his shoulders with the screaming Mandrake in his hands. Surely he wasn’t that much of an idiot to pull a Mandrake out of the pot and surely I wasn’t that much of an idiot to be smitten by the smile he flashed me when he did it.

Finally I ended my day just like it began. In Snape’s classroom, only now it was my class messing up potions not first years.

I wonder if it was something I said. Perhaps the carrot comment was too out of hand or maybe they bumped into Draco or maybe he was a bit crossed because he was in fact cold. Am I thinking too much into it? Did he see my sweater fold and thought it was too messy?

Before I knew it potions was dismissed and I still had George Weasleys sweater in my bag. Getting ready for the game my mind still wandered too far for me to get it back, putting on far too many Slytherin colors for it not to be comical. The Slytherin common room buzzed with anticipation and excitement with people laying one the floor writing banners for friends and people writing friends and crushes quidditch number on banners and faces and arms.

Sitting on the stands with the game dragging on, I put my cold hands inside the neatly folded sweater that was hidden inside my robes. I wonder if there was a time limit? A countdown? Were we even half way through?Admittedly I don't know a bloody thing about Quidditch just like I didn’t know a bloody thing about another sport.

Anticipation filled me, wondering when if at all out spirit section was going to mirror that of Gryffindor. Seconds felt eternal and I started to worry that they had been caught in the act.

Before I could continue tormenting myself the colors around me changed from green and silver to reds and golds.

Pansy Parkinson that was seated just behind me looked down to her robes horrified they’ve been turned. I almost felt bad for her and nearly reached over to tell her that red was unfortunately her color. The look on her face when her ‘Go Draco’ banner had been hexed to read ‘Go Harry’ was something you expected when someone tells you you’ve just stepped on hippogriff poo.

Snape looked crossed at the entire Gryffindor house and even Godric Gryffindor as if he himself planned this all out from beyond the grave to give Salazar Slytherin a last jab. I almost felt guilty looking at the face of my professor, a fleeting guilt but nonetheless guilt. Shouts around me cheering on Slytherin were abruptly replace with cheers for Gryffindor.

Smiling looking up at the players my eyes darted around for a glimpse of George or even Fred, but they all looked the same in their uniform.

“Go George!” I yelled over the loud burst of ‘Go Gryffindor’s that surrounded me.

“Go Fred!” I yelled out for good measure, adding it as to not make him feel left out tho I doubt they could hear me over all the commotion. But nevertheless I would know even if they didn’t.

The game came to an end as Harry reached up with the snitch grasped firmly in his hand. Grunts filled the Slytherin area, cursing at their changed clothes, cursed horns and now quidditch loss. I don’t know why everyone is upset this always happens at Gryffindor and Slytherin games, in fact at this point it seemed like a poorly written Quidditch plot. The fact that Harry always caught the snitch, if I didn't know any better I would have to say Harry and the golden snitch had a pact going on.

Around me people didn’t move instead they cursed and jabbed fingers at the Gryffindor tower. They must be really be crossed at Gryffindor to be standing around complaining under snow, or maybe their sheer hatred was keeping them warm. Getting up to leave because I wasn't neither cross nor warm to be standing around.

“Where are you going?” Christy asked me stopping her conversation over the horrid color combination Gryffindor had as if ours were any better.

“I need to go to the restroom. Besides I’m too cold to be standing here complaining.” I said walking away and she promptly went back to her conversation.

Walking down the Slytherin section, I made my way to the Gryffindor Quidditch player section. Somewhere I was highly banned from being in because I was neither a Gryffindor nor a quidditch player.

“I nearly fell off my broom hearing Slytherin chant for us.” Someone who I assumed was Harry said between laughter. A smile spread on my face thrilled I did in fact contribute to a great Weasley prank.

“Having them cheer for us was bloody brilliant! That had to be your best one yet!” Ron beamed at his brothers. Brilliant I got a stamp of approval not only from Harry Potter but from the small Weasley as well.

“Yea an awfully brilliant addition.” I said stepping into view.

The room felt silent and for I moment I wondered for what reason.They’ve just won shouldn't they be happy? So why do they have such long faces. Forgetting and simultaneously remembering that I in fact was that very reason, the walking Slytherin banner for the second time that day leaving people uncomfortable. Even without the silver and green perhaps something about me just reeked of Slytherin.

“You shouldn’t be in here Slytherin.” Ron said standing up to face me.The words held so much anger my mind wondered to see if I had ever caused any misfortune to the younger Weasley.

“I-I-I” My brain forgot all words or perhaps it had forgotten the ability to form any excuses. I didn’t expect a warm welcome but definitely not this much hostility.

“Going to tell Snape on us?” Harry said quirking his eyebrow at me, great I had the look of not only a Slytherin but a snitch as well. Perhaps it was the hair.

“Oi hold on that’s no way to talk to the lady of the hour.” George called out stepping from putting away his broom and jogging to stand next to me. A arm rested around my shoulder, I wonder how much of my red face I could blame on the snow.

Fred made his way to my other side, placing his hand on top of my head. “While it pains me to admit. Y/n was the one that came up with the horn bit.” He said ruffling my hair, George shifting the slightest bit closer to me. The amount of attention was too much for me and the bizarre looks on Harry and Rons face was enough to make me want to test my luck with the unforgiving blizzard forming outside. “Tho I do think I could've come up with it if I had some time.” Fred shrugged.

“Sure she did” Ron scoffed looking between his brothers to me.

“Cross my heart.” Fred said crossing his heart.

“Then I take back my compliment.” Ron said, the brotherly hatred he had for his brother far outweighing any sort of imaginary feud he had going on with me.

“Can't do that it’s already gone to my head.” Fred shrugged earning a laugh from Harry and comments on how they had to start out sourcing their pranks now from Ron.

George lead me just outside as the conversation inside kept building with Fred insisting that it was his genius that rubbed off on me, as if I would let him rub anything near me.

“Who was it in the hallway by the way?” George whispered leaning against the door frame. The hall was too cold and I had to inch forward towards George to step just out of the cold winds reach.

I shrugged “Oh it was just Draco.” I said having to look up to meet George’s eyes, I wish I was a bit taller or that he didn’t hover over me as much as he did.

His face turning into disgust just for a split second at the mention of his name “Just Draco?”

Was it Slytherin or Draco that had this effect on people? Somehow I know he would be a nuisance regardless of his house. “He’s not that bad.He could ease up on the hair dye but he’s actually pretty decent.” I said mindlessly but truthfully. “Don’t tell him I said that.” I shook my head looking up at George already visualizing just how much bigger Draco’s head would get if he knew I thought he was anything above horrid.

“Blimey I don’t think I could hold it in, it might slip out during our daily conversation” George said laughing. I wonder if I could bottle up that laugh or if I could make him laugh again just enough to commit it to memory.

“What? Draco not conversing with people outside of Slytherin? This is so unlike him I must check to see if he is feeling well.” I said faking worry for the sometimes socially awkward Slytherin.

“I came by to give you back your sweater.” I said holding it out towards him. Perhaps this was the end of our short lived friendship, perhaps after this we will go back to hardly speaking and perhaps I will go back to staring at him longingly during Herbology.

“You should come celebrate with us.” George said completely ignoring his sweater, the way he danced around it made me wonder if I actually offered him his sweater or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

“A Slytherin? At a Gryffindor party? Oh but George what would the neighbors think?” I laughed clutching the front of my robes.

George laughed “I’ll take care of them, I’ve been told I’m quite scary.” he said. I wondered who told him such a lie or if he was even capable of being even remotely scary.

Shaking my head I tried my best not to sound too disappointed “Thank you but I suspect I’m going to have to help mend an entire teams egos.” I said offering him his sweater once more.

“Keep it.” He said pushing it towards me, his voice too soft and too gentle that I wondered if a stray quidditch ball didn’t knock me out mid game and I was now living out one of those muggle romance movies.

“Bu-”

“My arms hurt from all the bludger tossing, don’t think I could carry it all the way back.” He shrugged, I wonder how tired ones arms had to be not to be able to carry a sweater back.Maybe if I played Quidditch I would’ve understood. “Just give it back to me later.”

“George hurry up we need to start celebrating!” Fred shouted sticking his head out the door looking at his brother, I wonder if his arms were equally as tired. “You coming?” Fred said looking down at me, shaking my head I wished I could accept.

“ ‘fraid not gotta go and hear my entire house moan about Gryffindors all night.” Shrugging, I could already heard Pansys moans and feel Dracos side eye of disapproval. I wonder if they were moping around the Slytherin common room in Gryffindor robes or they were so extremely crossed that they figured out a way to un hexed the robes.

“Should’ve gotten sorted into Gryffindor instead.” George said earnestly, I wondered how different this day would've played out if I was sorted into Gryffindor my first year. Perhaps Ron and Harry wouldn't be that cross with me or perhaps they would’ve gotten something else to not like about me.

“I’ll make sure to send my complains to the sorting hat.”

Fred pointed his finger at me “We got an end of year plan we’re going to need your opinion on.” he said smiling.

“See you later then?” George asked but I wish he would’ve stated, a promise sounded more hopeful than a question.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” I nodded seeing them walk away, deciding to wait a bit before I walked out. I suspect hateful tensions for Gryffindors from Slytherins are at an all time high right now and I truly don't want to get hexed in a weather like this.

“Bloody brilliant that one, wish I would've given her my sweater. Think she’ll take my jersey?” Fred said in a failed attempt at a whisper, something told me Fred Weasley was a terrible whisperer. “Oi Y/N you still cold?” He called out towards me with his arms raised, waving them around as if I couldn't see the only other people in the hall.

“Shut up!” George said clapping his hands forcing Fred to keep walking.

“What I can’t worry about a girl’s warmth levels?” Fred said playfully shoving George.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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lutealfem · 2 years ago

Text

Songs that have helped me heal prt 1 ?

After my breakup, I left the relationship alone and I felt worthless. I lost my value and self respect in the relationship to be there for my ex partner. I hated myself at the end but at long as he loved me only a bit that's all what mattered. I've been on my own for now a little over 2 weeks and I took 1 week to just wallow in my own sadness and pain. After watching copious amounts of Anna Akana videos I also listened to music that called out the toxicity of the relationship which would allow me to heal. (These lyrics I would imagine my ex partner to say to me /// think or just a message to myself)

Note- parenteses will be my note.

No complaints no conversation - Watsky

There's something wrong with her There's something wrong with me I don't think that's so wrong, we came by it honestly And honestly, I think mostly everybody does I don't blame you if you need to catch a buzz

I've built so much armor but ring the alarm I'm in love with someone who's bringing me harm (in my case this rang true, I had to remind myself I could never fall into that again) I'll pick lovers who got monsters and we bond on mental health Till they remind me of what's ugly in myself

(made me remind myself that I can't get back into a relationship until I can assert me boundaries, until I love myself, until I know the person very well, until I know I can also breakup with them if I need to and until I know my value.)

IDKW - Daisy the Great

Why are you leaving? (he decided to break up with me and I honestly opposed to it so much even though I felt a sigh of relief, I must remind myself of that sigh of relief when I miss him) I'm not offended My hands are still shaking Yesterday I leant you Too many secrets I hope you forget 'em (I did truly wish he would forgot everything I told and showed him) I am relieved but I wish I knew you better (Before we started dating we knew each other for 2 months while talking for almost 4 hours everyday. I must remind myself not to always rush into relationships)

Stared through all my sentences You hated when I cut my hair (He never judged me and or my decisions but I started to grow out my hair because he was curious how I looked with longer hair, I told him I wanted to grow out my hair before that but I could never stick to it so when he told me, that gave me a reason. I must remind myself never to go through with something I personally want to do for another person) I don't know why I loved you at all Always animosity When I ask you to kiss me I don't know why I kissed you in the first place Why did you waste all my time and then decide to love me? Why did you waste all my time and then decide to love me?

I don't know why I loved you at all I don't know why I loved you at all I don't know why I kissed you in the first place

My hands are full of tiny spoons to feed your hungry ego (I was always there for him and he barely never comfort me, just wanted to get drunk with me. I can't be a person for other people, I need to be myself) And if I hold them my whole life, will you please let me know Why you didn't care about me when I liked you back? Why you didn't care about me when I liked you back?

(Just a song that verbalizes my feelings /// I always wanted to tell my ex how I truly felt so I would sing to this song imagining myself saying the things I wanted to say which a lot line up to this song.)

She only loves me when I am asleep -Graphite Stars

Seven years of fighting And still I love you so But I feel some relief every time You say you want to go Tell me when you’re not around I’ll finally feel at ease She only loves me when I’m asleep When I’m asleep

(This one isn't really close to my situation particularly because I was more so codependent in the beginning, whenever he would be gone I would cry and just want him to be there. But during the end, I just wanted to break up with him but i knew I left my friends behind when I was with him. I would be so miserable because of him, I didn't want to talk to any of my friends. I was so embarrassed to tell my friends because I didn't want them to judge him. I protected his image to the end. But now I feel more at ease. So now I can relate to this song)

I Am Not a Robot- MARINA

You've been acting awful tough lately Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately But inside, you're just a little baby It's okay to say you've got a weak spot You don't always have to be on top Better to be hated Than loved loved loved for what you're not You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable You are not a robot You're lovable, so lovable But you're just troubled Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot You've been hanging with the unloved kids Who you never really liked and you never trusted But you are so magnetic, you pick up all the pins Never committing to anything You don't pick up the phone when it ring, ring, rings Don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing I'm vulnerable, I'm vulnerable I am not a robot You're lovable, so lovable But you're just troubled

(Honestly this song made me not demonize my ex. I never wanted to demonize him, I wanted to get over him without hate. This humanized him because of course he was not all bad he actually helped me with a lot of my issues in the beginning but I can't forget the bad either. Rather than hating you get a better understanding of the person instead of just saying "you're evil, case closed" you don't get as much as self closure by that)

Mean Ass Dunk - Watsky

Has anybody told you you're a mean ass drunk?

You say it's your thing to be honest Like it's kinda this token of pride Well to be honest, you are kind of a goddess (in the way that I was completely in love and therefor his looks were uncomparable) But being with you kinda kills me inside You want me to explain it, well It's sort of this look in your eye Like you're cooking an egg on the hood of your car 'Cause you looked at it hard But my heart is the egg and you're watching it fry I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna lie I am gonna cry But not right here Give me like a minute Let me get up all my feelings while I pop my beer Shit is getting muddy and I'm seeking out the buddy At the bottom of the bottle but it's not quite clear What you expect from me When you're disrespecting me?

Wanna treat me like a dog on a leash Well, that's your prerogative sheesh But if she wanna see what we got When the saga repeats, nada, capisce I'm not a complete wretch I fetch, I sit a bit But i'm not gonna stay

(This song has a pretty big significance since a lot of the times when we would argue was when he was drunk (and I would be talking about feminism) He would also just to say mean shit to get me to leave the relationship or test me, what was my limit) This song allowed me to get out anger from those moments, because I am not to be tested of my loyalty or how much shit talk I can handle. It was very nice to pretend to sing this to him)

Recess - Melanie Martinez

I was too young to see the truth In my grandma's lap, I'm drowning in her perfume Too naive to even care 'Bout the words she whispered while she brushed out my hair People gonna say If you need a break, someone'll take your place People gonna try To tell you that you're fine with dollars in their eyes (Just remember) Don't let them fuck you, honey, no, oh Don't let them try (ooh) Don't let them hurt you, baby Just say, "Recess, I'm tired"

(Honestly this song doesn't really relate to me but the song just made me realize I must get up and can't let this breakup control me anymore.)

Lost Cause - Billie Eilish

You weren't even there that day I was waitin' on you I wondered if you aware that day was the last straw for me and I know I sent you flowers Did you even care?

Thought you had your shit together, but damn, I was wrong You ain't nothin' but a lost cause And this ain't nothin' like it once was I know you think you're such an outlaw But you got no job You ain't nothin' but a lost cause And this ain't nothin' like it oncе was I know you think you're such an outlaw But you got no job

I used to think you were shy But maybe you just had nothing on your mind Maybe you were thinkin' 'bout yourself all the time I used to wish you were mine But that was way before I realized Someone like you would always be so easy to find

(Another good song to let out my anger in a critical way without completely vilifying him. Also when we first broke up I was worried I would never find anyone better than him since he was never violent, he didn't watch porn nor even sexualized me. This song helped me let go of that idea, that I can never find anyone better)

A message to women -Reyna Biddy

[The entire song]

(honestly just listen to this, it's so good, helps me feel better and realize my journey in a full)

Lose you to love me - Selena Gomez

I saw the signs and I ignored it Rose-colored glasses all distorted Set fire to my purpose And I let it burn You got off on the hurtin' When it wasn't yours, yeah

We'd always go into it blindly I needed to lose you to find me This dancing was killing me softly

I put you first and you adored it Set fires to my forest And you let it burn Sang off-key in my chorus

(I honestly relate to the "lose you to love me" not the "hate you to love me" I just don't want to operate on hate. Of course I can be angry and frustrated because of he things to did, but I don't want to just be hateful while I am trying to find myself. I know I lost myself in this relationship and I am so glad he broke it off because I would've never been able to. He also broke it off because he knew he was hurting me)

Happier than Ever - Billie Eilish

You call me again, drunk in your Benz Driving home under the influence You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath 'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends I don't relate to you I don't relate to you, no 'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty You made me hate this city And I don't talk shit about you on the internet Never told anyone anything bad 'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything And all that you did was make me fucking sad So don't waste the time I don't have And don't try to make me feel bad I could talk about every time that you showed up on time But I'd have an empty line 'cause you never did Never paid any mind to my mother or friends So I shut 'em all out for you 'cause I was a kid You ruined everything good Always said you were misunderstood Made all my moments your own Just fucking leave me alone

(NOWWWW BLESS THIS SONGG. I RELATE BASICALLY TO EVERY LYRICS! It has been able to keep me holding him accountable for the shitty things he did and remember them because I can't excuse them. I am able to let out my anger but without hating him still. I am able to express a lot of feelings with this song)

Sober Haha Jk Unless... -Hospital Bracelets

And I don't really know If I wanna overdose Maybe I'm just constantly scared Of being on my own A head without the thoughts I think that's what I need Maybe I'm just too messed up to succeed

So please, please, please Get me, me, me Sober Sober And when I'm there Can I have, have, have Any closure? Any closure?

(This song is just something I can kinda relate to in the sense that I can stay sober as long as he is not in my life.)

Naruto Themed Sexting- Panucci's Pizza

Well if you come inside I promise to keep you warm I'm sorry if I scared you When I slammed the car door But that doesn't matter now You're still plastered on my walls And I just can't bring myself to cover you With bands that don't even like at all Cause I'm a ghost in training Because my heart's be waning Because of all the shit I've eating I know one day my heart will stop beating I'm sorry for everything I've done I'm sorry for every tear that's dropped I'm sorry for all the times you didn't get to drive me home Well if you come inside I promise to keep you warm I'm sorry for scaring you, being the selfish fuck I know I am.

(OMGGGG I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS SONG, i really do imagine him saying these things to me, it really has helped me)

#breakup #break up #break up songs #healing #feminism #feminist #healing songs #feel better #suggestion #healing music #break up music #music #this really helped me :))

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 8 - Parisian Nightmares

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Summary: With Neil MIA you have some time to think about everything that happened. But you are not allowed peace at all..

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: The longest chapter yet, so sorry for that. It’s a little bit of a filler slower one so hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

Supposedly the idea of having lunch with TP would have scared you more if it was not for the way he guided you through the experience. He ordered food from the dining hall and made sure you had your coffee before starting any serious topics. Your tired and confused self really appreciated the efforts.

“So what do you want to talk about?” you asked after finally feeling more like a functioning human being.

“I thought we could discuss the things to come…” he briefly searched for the right words “Parts of it is what Neil already knows, but some details are not meant for him” he looked at you with a serious gaze “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course” you nodded, feeling both intrigued and nervous.

Ever since the topic of The Algorithm has been first breached, you hoped to learn more. Probably Neil’s presence would have helped at the moment, but if that was not possible then you just had to face the truth calmly. If not now, then when?

“Can I ask something first?”

“Go ahead”

“My recruitment… it wasn’t just because I was recommended by my professor, was it?” you felt like you already knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

“No” TP smiled “I knew from a good source that we had to recruit you”

You stared at him, desperately trying to comprehend what he meant. Suddenly you understood Neil and his despise of half-truths.

“Can I ask who’s that source?”

TP just smiled apologetically, and you groaned.

“Right. Did Neil know?”

“No, I only told him that you have to be enlisted” at your questioning stare, he added “It’s safer that way” he shrugged as though it explained everything.

It did not, but you began to understand that it was not meant to make sense. A sentence said during one of your early lectures rung out in your head: Don’t try to understand it. Feel it. Maybe that was the whole point.

“So that’s how you know that I’ll be needed during the plan? From the source?”

“Kind of” he grinned again “It’s a very reliable source, I must add” he looked at you pointedly and laughed at your confused face “I swear this will get clearer with time”

The reassuring smile made you feel somewhat better. Taking a sip of the coffee, you considered what was being said.

“When does it all begin?”

“With action in Kiev Opera in a month, more or less. But in reality, it already began years ago”

You frowned, feeling your head go blank. TP was smiling, clearly enjoying your utter confusion.

“It’s okay, you’ll catch up eventually”

“Thanks, that’s encouraging” you lightly smacked him in the shoulder.

“I’ll give you more information leading up to Kiev and then after” he explained after a short silence “But you can’t know the whole progression of events. I’m the only one who is cursed with that”

The sudden change in the tone made you stare at him curiously. But his face was like a mask.

“For now though, you don’t need to worry about it” he smiled again “I’m sending you out on a quiet mission to Paris with one of our agents”

That was surprising. But you could do with a distraction.

“Okay… what’s the deal?” you leaned onto the table and flashed him a brilliant smile.

“You have to research one shady guy in Paris. It’s just observation so no need for engagement. The only trick is that you have to pose as a newlywed couple” he looked at you expectantly.

Oh…

“How long will this take?” you tried to focus on the details, not to think too much about the implications of the cover.

“Three weeks” he smiled at your glare “What? It’s gonna be nice! Three weeks in Paris and all you have to do is observe our target, Pierre or whatshisname, and cosy up with Jasper” the overly enthusiastic tone made you laugh.

“You made it sound almost fun” you admitted after calming down a little.

“Well, it’s always a break from spending time with Neil” TP looked at you with an amused expression “I’m sure you could use some of that” he winked.

You shot daggers in his direction, all the while feeling your face grow warm. Admittingly, time without Neil could be useful. You just were not sure it would do much at this point. You were beyond saving.

“When do I begin?”

“You’ll have a mission briefing tomorrow, and that’s also when you’ll meet Jasper” you nodded “And now I think you should rest a little” he eyed you carefully.

“You’re probably right” you both got up “Thanks for the lunch and the chat… It helped” you smiled lightly.

“My pleasure” he ignored your outstretched hand and gave you a quick hug.

After a small hesitation, you returned the gesture. It felt familiar, and you had no clue why.

“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me” TP smiled at you warmly.

“I’ll remember that” you grinned back and moved to open the door.

“Oh and don’t worry about Neil” you stopped in your tracks and turned to stare at him “I know that he can be extremely annoying, but he really cares about you”

You were speechless and could only nod in response. The Protagonist laughed at your expression before shooing you out of the room with a gesture. You gladly did just that.

*** One thing was for certain, life without Neil could be boring. You found out that much from the moment you came back to your room. After making sure the main casualty of the mission – your dress – was in the washing, you spent most of that afternoon staring at the ceiling. You were mostly thinking about how much your life has changed in the last weeks. And trying to avoid thinking about him because that could never end well. But of course, the universe had other plans.

Just as you were dealing with the fact that the dress was utterly ruined, your phone buzzed. It was late, and the number was used solely for personal reasons, so the sound made you frown. You looked at the screen to find a text message from an unknown number:

“How’s the dress?”

There was no signature, but you knew.

“How did you get my number?” you replied and quickly saved his contact details.

It didn’t take him longer than a minute to respond.

“Used the charm you’re so quick to ignore”

Ah, Anna’s help then.

“Why?”

“Couldn’t imagine not bothering you for too long”

You covered your face with your hands for a few seconds before typing back.

“The dress is ruined, so thanks for nothing”

The speed with which he responded took you aback. Surely he’d have better things to do...? It did not seem so.

“It’s hardly my fault, is it? That wasn’t my idea” you could almost imagine the self-satisfied grin.

“Point taken” you hit the sent button and then took a deep breath.

It’s not too early for double texting, is it?

“Where are you?” you typed another message before throwing the phone on the other side of the bed.

When it buzzed again, you regretted the decision. Pretending that you would be able to resist reading the message immediately was pointless. You reached for the phone and read his answer:

“On the way to Boston airport”

Great. At least now you knew that he is not around, and you can have time to think. But with those texts, it might be harder to do. Before you could overthink the response, another one came through.

“Be honest, how bored are you without me?” you wondered how someone could be so annoying via text message.

“I’ve been assigned a little mission in Paris, actually. With Jasper. So not that bored, thank you very much”

This time it took him longer to respond. Approximately 6 minutes. Not that you were counting.

“You’ll be bored soon enough if you’ll be stuck somewhere with Jasper. What’s the cover?”

You did not like the assumption, but who were you to argue.

“Newlyweds enjoying honeymoon” you typed back and closed your eyes.

Somehow his response to that information mattered a lot.

“I guarantee you’ll wish it was me soon enough” Fucking hell.

“That’s a bit narcissistic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a little. But once you meet him, you’ll know I’m right”

“Well then I won’t hesitate to report back after the meeting” you replied and made sure to prepare yourself for the mission brief.

After you were done with planning the outfit and packing your folder, you glanced at the phone.

“Please do. I need to know what dear Jasper is up to these days”

“If you’re so curious about him, maybe ask Anna for his number ;) Sure she’d never deny you anything”

You weren’t sure where that came from, but sure enough, you were not going to take it back.

“Wow… Is that jealousy I’m sensing?”

“You wish” you glanced at the clock and realised how late it was.

“Goodnight, Neil” you sent him another text and went to the bathroom.

When you were back there was a message waiting for you.

“Sweet dreams, darling”

You groaned. In the end, it seemed like you will not be able to get a break from Neil. What a shame.

*** From the moment you stepped into the conference hall in the morning, you knew that Neil was right. Jasper was not one of the most entertaining people you have ever met. When you were introduced to each other he barely glanced up from the folder to look at you and half-heartedly shook your outstretched hand. You took a long look at him and his short brown hair and hazel eyes. He did look decent, to be fair. But he was not Neil. And you hated that your brain made that comparison straightaway.

“So what’s the task, boss?” the first time you heard his voice was when he addressed the Protagonist.

“You have to observe the target, Pierre Armand, who’s an inverted weapons dealer. You’re supposed to watch his every move and send daily updates but don’t engage. That will be the job for another team” TP looked at you both intently “Your cover is a newlywed couple going by the surname Morgan and who have just moved into their lovely suite next door to Armand” you’d swear he winked at you.

You glared back while your newly assigned partner studied the folder attentively. You wondered if he ever did anything else.

“When do we leave?” you decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Your plane is tomorrow afternoon” you nodded “Any other questions?” when neither of you spoke, he added “So I’ll leave you two to get acquittanced”

You stared at TP panicked, but he only flashed you one cheeky smile and left the room. That did explain why he and Neil got along so well. Grudgingly you turned towards Jasper, who was still pre-occupied with the damn folder. You cleared your throat, and he glanced up.

“So… have you been working here for a while?” you were shit at small talk.

“For three years now” he eyed you up sceptically “You’re the new recruit from London, aren’t you?” you could almost hear the condescension.

“Yes” it was not looking promising “Neil recruited me, and we’ve just been on a mission together in New York” you added.

It was a mistake. At the mention of Neil, Jasper’s eyes flared up, and he looked at you sharply.

“I heard that mission was a major fuck up” the vicious smirk took you aback “And poor Neil got shot”

You could only stare in confusion at the man in front of you. Boring and clearly having issues with Neil. Just bloody perfect.

“Anyway, I got to prepare” he got up “But mind you, Paris won’t be at all like an operation with that idiot” he glared at you.

“And what’s an operation with him like?” you were genuinely curious at this point.

“Overly dramatic” he made a grand gesture with his hands before slamming the doors in the wake of his exit.

He did have a point there. You sighed, grabbed your documents, and exited the hall. On the way to your room, you decided to give in to the temptation and typed a message to Neil.

“With grief, I have to admit you were right about Jasper”

You were not expecting a response instantly, so the buzz when you were pouring coffee into the cup made you jump up. Neil could make your life harder, even remotely.

“Told you. How is he doing?” you read the reply and grinned at the casual tone.

“He’s grumpy and hates you for some reason. Can’t wait to be stuck with him for three weeks” you sighed and accepted the grim fate.

“Sounds like him then. You never know, you might bond over your shared hatred for me”

You nearly choked on your coffee then. A fellow agent passing by on the corridor stared at you. This could only get worse.

“Think my hatred towards you has nothing compared to his. Any ideas why he’s like that?”

“Nothing concrete, but I’ve got a few vague theories. I’ll tell you when I’m back”

“Hope so. What time is it there?” closing the door to your room, you could finally behave like an idiot.

“Past 11 pm. Excited for your outing with Jasper?”

Asia then… You tried to think about any possible places he could be but came up with too many options.

“Not at all. Fully expecting my days will be spent wandering around Paris alone or watching French HGTV”

You decided to look through the folder to distract yourself from the increasing stress. This time you were supposed to be Amelia Morgan, wife to Nicholas Morgan. Amelia’s occupation was being an accountant, which sounded extremely boring, but at least you would get to experience the city. Your study was then interrupted by another text.

“You can always message me if you’re bored”

Tempting.

“Careful because I might”

“You better” To that, you did not know what to say,. so you just got lost in the preparations for the mission. This one was not looking good but there was no other choice. So you just focused on learning about your target. At least this time, there was no one to distract you.

Until another text came, a solid hour later.

“One clue about Jasper: Anna”

Oh not her again.

“Don’t tell me he’s hopelessly in love with her”

“Perhaps… And well, she has eyes for someone else so” and then “Not to be smug naturally”

You grinned at the screen.

“You do sound smug”

You had to admit that if Neil’s theory was true, it was rather heart-breaking for both Anna and Jasper. Not that you felt sorry for either of them.

“He might decide to take revenge upon me by breaking your heart”

You stared at the text and the many implications he could have meant it by it. And it was too much to figure out right now. Instead, you just typed back:

“Good luck to him” and then, with heart thumping wildly “Would you care if he did?”

You tried to ignore the phone when the answer came. But after an agonising minute spent reading the same two words over and over, you gave in.

“Maybe”

Right… You just had to add that question to the long list for when he’s back. You closed the folder with a flourish. All mental coherence was gone.

*** It turned out that Neil was not right about everything. If Jasper ever intended to claim and then break your heart, he was utterly shit at it. Since the day you moved into your cosy Parisian flat, he barely spoke a word to you. Most of the time, he was buried nose deep in the mission briefs or books related to strategies and secrets of arms dealing. If you had tasks to complete, he would often sideline you before doing the job himself while ignoring any help you offered. To put it straightforwardly, he pissed you off.

And yet, his eagerness to be entirely self-dependent meant that you had time to discover Paris and relax while still completing the mission in any way you could. You also had more than enough time to text Neil, who always responded to your messages promptly. You sometimes wondered if he ever slept or did anything but talk to you. Not that you did mind, of course.

Your patience towards Jasper, his silence and superiority complex snapped for the first time after a week and a half. You have both been sitting in the living room of your condo, just after finishing quiet dinner. You were bored, extremely so. You have reached for the television remote with the intent to put on some background noise to ease the tension. But the moment you have switched the tv on, Jasper spoke:

“Don’t turn this shit on, it’s distracting” he has not even lifted his head from the folder he was studying.

You glared at him sharply and decided that you have had enough.

“Distracting from what? It’s not like you’ve not read this at least five times today already”

That made him look up. And he was not happy.

“I’m working. You should try that sometimes” he eyed you pointedly.

“I would if you ever gave me a chance to do anything” you shrugged, already not liking the conversation.

“I gave you a few opportunities, but you were just lazy” he placed his documents aside and went back to glaring at you “All you do is knock around Paris and stay on your phone for hours” a vicious smile appeared on his face “You’re texting Neil, aren’t you?”

You were taken aback by the whole situation and unable to deny the truth. “Even if I am, that’s none of your business” you were desperately hoping he would shut up.

But it was too late, and Jasper has clearly been triggered.

“That’s quite pathetic. You should know he never actually cares about all those girls he flirts with” he seemed to judge you “And I don’t see why you could be different” the smug smile was cruel.

Now you knew why it was better when he stayed quiet. You scrambled for any words of defence, but he managed to hit the mark. Swallowing hard, you schooled your face and replied in the most neutral tone you could muster at the moment.

“I think you’re just pissed Anna prefers Neil over you”

That worked. You watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened, and you silently thanked Neil for the information.

“Anna has nothing to do with this” it was his turn to stumble over the words “You’re just unwilling to face the truth” this time his harsh words lacked the sureness.

You were winning.

“So are you” you shrugged “I’ve had enough of this. You can go back to your precious mission briefs” you got up and left the room without a further glance.

You had to admit that his words did upset you. Even when you almost certainly knew he was wrong your brain had its own doubts. Because what if he was right? That would hurt, more than you could acknowledge.

But before you could begin the overthinking, the phone you threw onto the bed buzzed. He always knew when to message.

“How’s married life with Jasper going?”

And naturally, he always asked the right questions too. You did hate him for that.

“Now I know why it’s better he reads his documents instead of talking” you replied and debated what to do next.

“What did he do?” Neil quickly texted back even though you were pretty sure it was early morning hours for him.

You did not want to get into a serious conversation over the texts.

“He got a bit riled up and said some bullshit that wasn’t fun to listen to” that seemed like an easy way out for now.

“Do you want me to send a team to eliminate him? It would look like an accident”

You laughed at the tempting proposition.

“I’ll think about it”

“Are you alright?” you stared at the new message.

You were not exactly alright.

“I will be”

Why did lying feel so bad?

You switched off the lights in the room and lied on the bed. Just a week and a half to go. You’ve got this… right?

*** The last week in Paris passed in relative peace. Mostly because you and Jasper stopped speaking to each other entirely. Occasionally you would notice his cruel smirk appear when he caught you texting, and you did your best to ignore it. However, it did hurt, and you had to admit that one argument has managed to uproot all the confidence you have had.

Peace ended abruptly on the penultimate day when it became clear that you were being followed. Jasper caught on to the fact after he noticed someone shadow you on your walk through the city. You hid in one of the cafes as soon as he has signalled the fact to you. You knew he was right the moment a random man peered into the darkened premises and then went on to loiter nearby.

“Right, what do we do?” you looked around, trying to stay calm.

It seemed like no one else was onto you. Jasper already looked pissed off, and you wondered if it meant that more pleasant things would be said.

“I suspect they’ve got doubts about the authenticity of our story” he was intensely scanning the horizon, looking for any threats “He’s still there, waiting for us to blow the cover or prove him wrong” he turned to you with the most unhappy face you have ever seen.

“What is it?”

You were not sure you wanted to know the answer.

“We made it this far. I’m not letting them fuck it up” he leaned towards you and closed the gap.

You were frozen in horror before your brain caught up with the fact that Jasper was kissing you. Then you closed your eyes and tried to reciprocate with the minimum effort needed for it to look believable. It was pretty horrible, to put it simply. He was kissing you sloppily with a tempo that you could not match. You felt his hand clumsily entangle in your hair only to make you flinch when he ripped out a few hairs. After a solid 30 seconds long snog, you decided that had enough. You leaned back, ignoring the overwhelming urge to wipe your lips with the napkin. He stared at you briefly with that same disgusted face before discretely looking for your trail. The man was gone. You could only hope it worked as you exited the café, holding hands.

On the way back to the apartment, you refused to look at him, somehow hoping that would get rid of the awful way you felt. Naturally, being a spy did involve doing things like that but for some reason, it was not easy. You hated the fact that your brain kept on rewinding memories from New York and, in the process, making you feel worse. Once you made it back, you locked yourself in the room, leaving Jasper to fill in the report. You were tempted to message Neil just for the sake of knowing his thoughts on what happened.

“Today was my lucky day, and I got to experience PDA with Jasper. Send help”

That would do nicely, right?

“Must say I didn’t expect that”

As you were desperately looking for something to text back, your phone did something you did not expect it to do. It rang. You stared in shock as Neil’s number flashed as the caller ID. With a shaking hand, you picked up the phone and pressed the green button.

“Neil?” your voice sounded incredibly awkward.

Great start.

“What happened?” hearing his voice after those three weeks felt surreal.

Was it your imagination, or did he sound slightly tense?

“Um… we were being followed outside, so we entered a café. The tail was observing us and…” you took a deep breath, suddenly extremely nervous “And Jasper decided to kiss me to authenticate the cover”

Neil was silent, and that did not help with the irrational anxiety, so you rambled on, losing control of what you were saying.

“Well, it was more of a snog judging by how it lasted for thirty seconds, but I think they bought…”

“Okay, stop” he interrupted you abruptly “I’m not sure I want to know the details”

“Why not?” somehow out of the mixture of anxiety and insecurity, annoyance emerged “Are you jealous?”

You regretted the question as soon as it left your mouth. And did not want to know the answer. Luckily he did not respond. Instead, he did what Neil does best:

“Who’s a better kisser?”

You could not believe the nerve of this man.

“You can’t be for real” you muttered and heard him chuckle on the other side.

“It’s a legitimate question” you could picture the shrug and a cheeky smile.

It seemed like the initial awkwardness was gone. At least for him.

“I…” you huffed, unable to express the mess of emotions you felt.

“Oh, I know it’s you, but I’m asking about me and dear Jasper”

If he were in front of you, you would have punched him. But instead could only let out a frustrated groan and attempt to answer the question. There was only one way to do it.

“You” you mumbled, making sure your voice was barely coherent.

But of course, he heard you.

“I’m flattered” he had the smug tone nailed to the t.

“Fantastic” you sighed “Why did you call me?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice”

“Right”

“And to get you to answer the question”

“Of course” you sighed again “Now I should finish before Jasper barges in” That was partially an excuse, partially a real concern as you glanced nervously at the thin doors separating the rooms.

“Sure, don’t want you upsetting your husband. However, I’d love to see his face when he hears that I kiss better than him” Neil mused, and you gave yourself the liberty to just listen to his voice.

“Well, I’m not telling him that so feel free to do so when you meet up”

Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Surely Jasper would not eavesdrop on you…?

“I’ve got to go, bye Neil” you hoped your tone sounded at least half as urgent as you felt.

“Goodbye, love. Don’t let that idiot get to you”

“I’ll try”

You hung up just as the doors to the bedroom opened. Sure enough, Jasper was stood there, with a scowl on his face.

“What were you doing?”

“Just being pathetic, I guess” you shrugged and walked past him without a glance.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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bookswitchcraftandcats · 4 years ago

Text

Rainy Days (Part 3 of 4)

Link to AO3 ----- Part 1 Part 2

It is later than I said I would post it, I’ve been busy, Sorry!

Summary: Emma and Julian are in charge of the London Institute for a week and find a box that once belonged to Cordelia Carstairs and contains poems written to her by James Herondale. The story switches between Emma and Julian and oneshots about things that happened in Jordelia's life to inspire the poems.

Sorry if the formatting for the poems is messed up, I tried.

TW: There is demon fighting and someone gets hurt.

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

“Well that one was…” Julian trails off as they both kind of laugh. They felt kind of weird reading something that was pretty personal to them. They put that poem back in the box and started to look for another when Emma’s phone buzzed. She grabbed it from the shelf she left it on. It was a text from Clary.

“Looks like we are going to New York next week,” Emma says. Jace and Clary were needed in Idris for a meeting and wanted them to run the institute while they were gone. It would only be for a few days and they loved New York anyways.

Jace and Clary had been to L.A. recently, though their vacations were far and few with the stress of running and institute. They spent the day by the ocean catching up and having fun. They also played an incredibly competitive game of volley ball and Julian and Clary worked on some painting.

“What are Jace and Clary doing?” Julian asks.

“I don’t know, something in Idris.” Jace and Clary had been going to Idris a lot lately helping to sort things out, after the cohort had been defeated there had been a lot of work to move stuff back to the shadowhunter's home country.

Hopefully they could just have a relaxing weekend, maybe even find another old jewelry box filled with her ancestors' stuff, though that was highly unlikely. They had been trying to have a relaxing weekend for the past 6 years and were epically failing at something that seemed so easy. Cristina had even made fun of her for it because of how often she tried to take a couple days off and then got dragged back to work. She said Emma and Julian were a “magnet for trouble.”

“Maybe we can go see a show on Broadway next week,” Julian says thoughtfully, “We haven’t been on a fancy date in a while.”

They really hadn’t been out much, Alec had them all around the world helping because they were so short on people and her and Julian had existence running an institute. They didn’t mind it really, if they did all they had to do was say the word and they would be home, but they loved to travel and explore different institutes. It gave them ideas for what they could do back in LA.

“That sounds great,” she says. She picks up another poem titled Daisies.

Daisy

I want to take you to the green meadow, Where the sky is blue and wild flowers grow. And where there is everlasting spring and peace, So that we can escape the natures of city life.

I want to take you to were the songbirds sing, Where even the dragon finds fitful sleep. Hope flows through that warm calming breeze, Inviting us to enjoy the wonders the world has to show.

There is no one I'd rather explore it with than you, Nothing it can show me will be as extraordinary as you, And there you'll find a woven crown of white flowers, Because you are always and forever my queen, my Daisy.

Cordelia and James were out on patrol the night before their first anniversary. There had been an increase in demon activity in London with the recent stormy weather. Tonight was no exception to this weather pattern, it was raining cats and dogs while the couple wandered the streets.

“I hate the rain,” Cordelia says, James responding with a quiet laugh.

“Hopefully we can find this demon soon so we can go sit by a fire,” he says.

They were tracking a demon that had been wreaking havoc in the train stations for the past week. They had almost had it yesterday but it just got away. They were now using a tracking rune and a bit of it’s blood that was spilled during the fight. It led them to an abandoned warehouse by the Thames River.

They cautiously entered the warehouse and the door slammed shut behind them, closing off the light of the full moon and leaving them in pitch black darkness. They could hear the rain against the metal roof, some of the water was dripping through it onto the floor. Cordelia pulled out the witchlight that Alastair had given her and it lit up the dusty building.

“Well this is underwhelming,” James said, “for a demon layer it really lacks style.” Cordelia gave him a look and then went to explore further into the warehouse. She stepped in a puddle of black slime.

“We need a vacation,” she says with a sigh while looking at her shoe. James nodded.

Out of the corner of the room they could see two glowing eyes as a demon moved out from the shadows. Cordelia had a feeling it was not the only one. James pulled out a knife and hit the creature with deadly accuracy. They hear a flutter of wings and scales above. They are definitely not alone.

Cordelia unsheathes Cortana, the bronze sword lighting up the dark room. She could see her reflection in the blade, her hair was pulled up in preparation for a battle but a few strands were coming loose and she was wearing gear. She looked at James, both of them had a determined look in their eyes. They started fighting as the demons swarmed down from above. It was all arcs of gold and light from seraph blades. Cordelia wielded her sword as though it was an extension of her own arm and James’s knives never missed their mark.

James pulled out a seraph blade and named it Raphael. He yelled something at Cordelia but she was too focused to understand it before it was too late. The demon’s claw grabbed her shoulder as she spun and swung Cortana at it turning it to dust.

They quickly took out the rest and were both exhausted from fighting. James noticed the cut on Cordelia’s shoulder and ran to help her as she practically collapsed into his arms. The world went dark as she fell into James’s arms.

When she woke up they were at the institute and she was laying on one of the beds in the infirmary. Her shoulder was bandaged and she could see multiple iratzes. She was feeling much better. She looked over and saw James reading a book next to her bed. He saw her and smiled.

“What happened?” She asked, holding her still sore shoulder.

“We found the demon hideout, thankfully you finished them all off,” James said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Cordelia glanced at the clock and smiled.

“It’s technically our anniversary you know.” She said, “It’s past midnight.”

“I know,” James said with a confident smirk, the door opened and his parabatai walked in. Both boys looked far too smug about whatever idea they had come up with.

He gestured to Matthew standing by the door.

Mathew walked back in holding a bouquet of daisies tied together with a bow. There was also a small envelope that he handed to James and then left.

“Happy anniversary Daisy,” James said and kissed her.

She opened the card and saw a poem written out on the left side.

“Thank you James, happy anniversary.” Cordelia said happily and returned his kiss.

Tag list: @fortheloveofthecarstairs @thehotfaeriethreesome @shadowrunner2000 @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @gabtapia @niathesanctuary-bolastair-kanej @all-thestoriesaretrue

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :)

#james herondale #cordelia carstairs #emma carstairs #julian blackthorn #rainy days #the last hours #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #jordelia #jemma blackstairs

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crystalstar8 · 4 years ago

Text

Knights of the Night (ch 15)

Chapter 15

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,459

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j @daechwitad-2 @zobadak @fallenstar-7

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

Catalina was nervous. She had changed her outfit almost ten times and was already pulling a sweater out of her closet for an eleventh. She eyed her suitcase in the corner of her room. No, don’t open it, you’ll have to repack, she told herself. Her phone buzzed from her bed. It was a text from Jungkook.

JK: I’m on my way

“Shit,” Catalina mumbled. She looked between the sweater in her hand and the one laying on the floor. The one in her hand was a bit nicer so she pulled that one on. She tucked it into her skirt, then slipped into her ankle boot heels. As she was checking her hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror for the last time, she heard her front door open. Rounding the corner, she saw Jungkook standing in the hallway, tapping the snow off his boots on the rug. Catalina grabbed her coat.

“You look so cute!” he said as she came over for a hug.

“I always look cute, what are you talking about?” she said. He grinned, his nose scrunching up and his eyes turning to crescents. He looked good too, in a turtleneck under his peacoat. It was amusing to her, knowing that he still had a few lingering marks on his neck. They had both dealt with enough teasing from their friends over the past few days, they definitely didn’t need Jungkook’s family on that train as well.

“Ready to go?” he asked. Catalina nodded and followed him out the door, locking up behind her.

The car ride was short, only a minute or two since they lived a block away from each other. There were two other cars in the driveway, which Jungkook parked behind. As they got out of the car, Jungkook said, “So, my brother is kind of annoying. Just warning you. He’s in law school and he’s a bit of an asshole about it.”

“Be an asshole about your film major right back to him,” said Catalina, making him laugh.

“Easy,” he said. “I’ll just start talking about my favorite directors and artsy films.”

His house was warm and inviting, as it always was, but today, it was cleaner than Catalina’s seen it in a long time. Maybe ever. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner, decorated with mismatched bulbs and ornaments.

Jungkook’s mom came out of the kitchen, pulling oven mitts off her hands. She saw Catalina and her eyes lit up.

“Catalina! It’s so good to see you!” she said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too!” Catalina said. “I never get to see you guys, so I’m glad to be able to spend some time with you all.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome,” she said. “My husband and I are always so busy with work, I feel bad. Anyway, come into the kitchen. The food’s almost ready. Jungkook, go help set the table.”

Dinner was beautiful, and Catalina had fun listening to Jungkook’s family try to embarrass him by sharing childhood stories. He wasn’t embarrassed though, always laughing with the table and sharing his own details about the experiences. It sounded like the family hiked and camped a lot while the boys were growing up, so there were plenty of adventure stories to go along with that. Catalina asked about his parent’s jobs and they told her about what they do at the hospital during their overnight shifts. They were both nurses, but they also did volunteer work every chance they got. Jungkook’s brother was indeed a bit of an asshole about being a law student, but Jungkook cracked everyone up by talking about his favorite film, “Persepolis”, pronouncing it “Pear-say-po-li”.

Catalina had a great time, but she didn’t stay too late since her and Jungkook had a flight to catch in the morning. Jungkook dropped her off at home that night, kissing her softly in the car before she got out.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, pecking his lips once more before getting out of the car. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said.

It feels so good to say that, Catalina thought as she took the stairs to her apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The airport was crowded with people rushing to travel for the holidays. Catalina was thrumming with excitement. She hadn’t seen her mom since before her first semester. She had never lived away from her home before, never away from her mom for so long. She couldn’t wait to see her, and to introduce Jungkook to her. They found their flight easily enough in the giant building, and soon enough, they were in the air, en route to Detroit.

Catalina’s mom was waiting for them at the airport when they landed. As soon as Catalina exited the gates, she ran, giving her mom a long hug.

“Oooh, dios mio, how I’ve missed you!” her mom said, holding her tight.

“I missed you too, mom,” said Catalina. She pulled away and looked over at Jungkook. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook.”

“What a cutie you are!” her mother said as she gave Jungkook a hug as well. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Diaz,” said Jungkook.

“Ms. Diaz. Or you can just call me Lucía. Come, lets go home,” she said. “This place is too crowded.”

Catalina sat in the passenger seat of her mom’s car on the way home. It wasn’t a long drive, their house was just outside of the city. During the drive, she wondered if she should reach out to her old friends. They had never once texted or checked up on her while she was away, so maybe it was best to leave them behind.

The house looked exactly the same as when she last saw it and it gave her a sense of comfort to come back to the familiarity. After Catalina and Jungkook got settled into her old room, her mom called them downstairs to help bake cookies. While baking, Catalina and Jungkook told her all about their classes and professors. After the cookies came out, they had fun decorating them in weird and interesting ways. Jungkook decorated a gingerbread man with red eyes and fangs, which Catalina took a picture of to send to their friends.

Later in the evening, Lucía took them all out to dinner at a nice place in downtown Detroit. The restaurant was beautiful; bistro lights dripped from the ceiling, branching out from the twisting paper tree in the center of the dining room. Over dinner, Catalina told her mother about her friends in California, and about their trip to the lodge. Her and Jungkook left out the parts about their friends being vampires.

“I want to know how the two of you got together,” said Lucía. “She didn’t date much in high school, so this is so exciting to me.”

“I had a girlfriend in my senior year,” Catalina mumbled. Lucia waved a hand.

“That doesn’t count,” she said. Catalina glanced at Jungkook, who was frowning after hearing this exchange. Catalina put a hand on his knee under the table and decided not to argue.

“Well, we met in our French class,” Catalina started. “We became friends and we hung out a lot for the first few months of the semester. I mean, I never really knew I had a crush on him at first, I knew he was attractive, but I only saw him as a friend. Then one day, he kissed me, and we’ve been an item ever since.”

Lucía had a hand over her heart as she listened.

“That’s so sweet,” she said. “You two are a beautiful couple and I can see you’re so happy with each other. I’m just…so relieved that you found a nice boy and-“

“Mom,” Catalina interrupted.

“I just didn’t want you to fall back into those high school phases you were in,” she said. “I was so worried I would lose you to the wrong kind of people. There’s so many influences online these days and I just wanted you to be successful in life. That kind of lifestyle comes with drugs and-“

“I’m gonna go to the restroom,” Jungkook said, standing up and giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“Mom, stop it,” Catalina said. As soon as Jungkook was out of sight, she said, “My boyfriend is bisexual too. And so are some of my other friends at school. They’re all amazing people and I would do anything for them. I don’t like when you say things like this.”

“Catalina, you know I love you no matter what,” her mother said. “I just want the best for you.”

“It’s not something anyone can control,” Catalina said. “Whether I fall in love with a man or a woman, I’ve always hoped you could be happy for me no matter what.”

“I am happy for you,” Lucía said, reaching over to take Catalina’s hand. “You’re following your dream and you seem so happy with your life right now. I think I need to get used to the idea of my daughter being bisexual, there’s just so many bad connotations that come with that community. At least from when I was growing up.”

“Things are different now,” Catalina said.

“I know, I know,” Lucía said. “I think I just need to get used to this. At the end of the day, I just want you to be safe and happy. I think a man would be able to provide for you better later in life.”

“You of all people should know that’s not true,” Catalina said. “You raised me alone, and we were always pretty well off.”

Lucía raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “You got me there.”

Catalina giggled and squeezed her mom’s hand.

“I love you, cariña,” Lucía said. “Just remember that.”

“I love you too, mom,” said Catalina.

Jungkook came back and Catalina took his hand as soon as he sat down.

“I’m sorry if what I said earlier was offensive,” Lucía said to him.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said, flashing a smile.

“I’m trying, it was just so different when I was young,” she said.

“It’s really okay,” Jungkook said with a chuckle. “This sounds exactly like the conversation I had with my own mom when I was sixteen.”

Lucía laughed and the conversation turned to the topic of Jungkook’s family. Dinner went on peacefully. Catalina was glad she got this conversation off her chest. She had been struggling with that topic ever since she came out in high school. It really sounded like her mother was trying to understand, and Catalina couldn’t be more grateful.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Catalina and Jungkook took a day trip to Frankenmuth, which, as soon as they arrived, they realized was a bad idea. Frankenmuth was packed with people, but the pair still managed to have a good time. They ate dinner at the Bavarian Inn and took a carriage ride around the town. They walked the underground mall and the outdoor shops, but only bought gifts for Lucía, since everything was terribly overpriced. They didn’t even shop for each other, since they both confessed they had already bought each other Christmas gifts a long time ago. Snow covered the ground and everything was wrapped in Christmas lights in the little town. Just walking through the beautiful scenery hand in hand with Jungkook was wonderful.

They returned home late that evening, wrapping their gifts in Catalina’s room and going to bed afterwards.

Christmas morning was pleasant; Lucía cooked them a big breakfast, then they opened gifts in the living room. Catalina had two gifts from her mom. The first one was a Visa gift card and a heartfelt letter. The second gift was a quilt. Each patch depicted a different cat from t-shirts, towels and linens.

“You’re grandmother started making this before she passed away,” Lucía said. “You remember her nickname for you?”

“Gatita,” Catalina said, tears prickling her eyes.

“I found it just recently and I decided to finish it for you,” Lucía said. “Just something to remember her by, something your children can use.”

Catalina felt a tear run down her cheek. She wiped it away and got up to hug her mom.

“This is wonderful,” said Catalina. “I love it so much.”

“I’m glad you like it, cariña,” her mom said, hugging her back tight. “I know I don’t have a lot for you, like when you were a kid, but I didn’t want you to have to lug a bunch of stuff back to California with you.”

“No mom, it’s perfect,” she said. “This is perfect.”

Lucía then opened Catalina’s gift, which was a silver bracelet from Frankenmuth. Jungkook had gotten her a handmade scarf and hat set, and she had given him another Visa gift card.

At some point during the day, Catalina made sure to find time for herself and Jungkook. Lucía went to pick up groceries in the afternoon, which was when Catalina took the opportunity to give Jungkook his gift.

They were pressed together on the couch, both holding a little gift bag in their hands.

“You first,” Jungkook said, handing her his bag. She took it and opened it, finding a little box in the bottom. Her heart beat fast as she opened it, revealing a ring with the moon in a glass bubble. She gasped and handed his gift over frantically.

“Open this right now!” she said, pulling the ring out and putting on her middle finger. He did, his eyes getting wide as he opened the slightly bigger box.

“No way,” he said, looking up at her.

“How the hell did this happen?” Catalina asked, holding in giddy laughter. Jungkook pulled the necklace out of the box and put it on. The charm on the chain held the moon in a little glass bubble. The same moon as the one in her ring.

“We bought each other the same thing,” he said, laughing.

It was the waxing half-moon from the night they shared their first kiss in the vampire den.

When Lucía came back home, they immediately showed her their unplanned gifts for each other. She laughed for about ten minutes. She then recruited them to help cook dinner, which was an exciting ordeal. Catalina was happy to learn how to cook all of her favorite dishes.

The three of them ended up having a beautiful dinner together, bright with laughter and conversation.

The next few days passed in a blur. They went out, cooked together, played games, and watched movies. Before they knew it, the week was over and it was time for Catalina and Jungkook to travel again for the next leg of their trip. Catalina was reluctant to leave her mom, but she was absolutely filled with anticipation for her stay in the cabin.

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fanfics-with-coffee · 4 years ago

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Crybaby memories Ch.1

First chapter of a little something I’m working on. Just wanna get this out to feel out the waters a little so I hope you guys enjoy!

Updated as of 21/1/2021 because I didn’t like the old version.

Y/n finally returns to Japan after 10 years to finish her last year of the hero course at UA. But what she didn’t realize was that she would have to meet her old childhood friends and face her past, something she had left in Japan. And can Bakugou really make up for the mistake he regrets the most? Or maybe you’d do best to just forget about the explosive blonde.

Genre: Some angst and maybe fluff? Pairing: Bakugou x reader Words: 2500~ Childhood friends AU

-> Ch.2

“It’s y/l/naaaame, y/n y/l/n!” She put extra emphasis on her surname when she spoke, trying her best to make it easy for the boy in front of her to mimic her. He frowned a little, clearly trying to figure out how he should approach the word in his head before he spoke.

“y-y/l/n…” He tried again, carefully watching the girls face and noticing that he once again botched her name. She had pursed her lips, watching his face as she racked her brain to find another way to solve this problem. He felt his face heat up at the embarrassment of messing up something so important. But as if a lightbulb appeared over her head, she suddenly perked up.

“Just call me y/n! That’s easier right?” She smiled brightly, the boy would’ve almost compared her to the sun itself if he’d been any better with words. The little girl leaned forward, placing her tiny hands on the playground dirt, expectantly waiting for him to say her name.

“Y-y/n?” He said, carefully and quietly. His face wasn’t just warm now, he was burning up but the girl didn’t seem to mind. She was much too excited to notice as she stood up, thinking they could do something much more fun than struggle with something so trivial.

“Exactly! Now you don’t have to worry about my last name anymore. I’m a genius!” She spoke and held out her hand to the boy, helping him to his feet. He stared at her, not quite sure what to say to someone so radiant. But as she turned to go find something for the two of them to do, he spoke up.

“Uh, well you can just call me Izuku then, instead of Midoriya I mean... t-that way it’s fair.”

The girl looked at him, surprised for only a second before that heroic smile returned and she nodded.

-♡-

“I’m name is y/l/n y/n, it's nice to meet you. I’m joining you guys for the last year of highschool, I hope to get along with you all!” Y/n smiled as she stood in front of the class, he back straight and her head held high.

She got a mumbling choir of greetings back, her eyes scanning the crowd as she took in her new classmates. The class of 3-A, her graduating class. It was almost surreal, even if she had realized early that the chance of her going to UA was slim after she moved away from Japan, here she was, 10 years later. After the class quieted down, the energy was still high and people almost buzzed with curiosity. The girl gave them a respectful bow before their teacher took over.

“Alright y/l/n, you can go ahead and take the empty seat over there. Our last lesson is just beginning.” Aizawa told her from behind his desk. She was somewhat thankful he cut her introduction short. As excited she was for being here, there was a certain nervousness growing in the back of her head. As soon as she got her acceptance letter and she saw which class she was going to join, she realized that she would be meeting some new faces but most importantly… some old ones.

Y/n made quick work of getting to her seat, walking past some of her classmates, and giving them each a small smile as a greeting. She hung her bag on her chair and sat down. Aizawa didn’t waste any time starting the lesson, leaving the students with little introduction to their new classmate. But people had a more difficult time focusing on what he was saying as people threw what they thought were sneaky glances towards the new girl. But it was hard not to notice the turning heads and curious looks she was getting. She just smiled, she was used to the attention. Everyone wondered who the new kid was, right?

Despite the people who kept looking at her, y/n had noticed someone else across the room. A certain boy whose green hair bobbed and bounced along with his head movements. She looked at him and wondered how she should approach him after class. Would he even remember her? It was a long time ago.

But before she could figure out how she should handle the situation, her eyes met deep green ones. None of them were prepared for it and as soon as they had met, they separated. But it had given her a better look at Izuku Midoriya’s face, one she didn’t dare take when she was in front of the class. Those chubby cheeks he had as a kid had slimmed to a much more masculine shape, he’d gotten more handsome than cute since last time she had seen him. But those freckles that always covered his cheeks were still there, reminding her of the little kid she used to know. She remembered how surprised he looked just now when their eyes met and almost laughed. He may look like a man but he was still that shy boy she knew.

Leaning her cheek on the palm of her hand, she smiled and went back to focusing on the lesson. All the while bright red eyes observed her from behind, seeing her new figure and face, all the while his own memories started to flood his mind.

After what felt like mere minutes passed, the lesson came to an end. And Aizawa spent little time wrapping it up and instead unceremoniously announced the lesson to be over and left the classroom. A chorus of chair legs scraping against the floor followed the sound of the door closing after the teacher. And within seconds, a group had formed around the ‘new girl’. She couldn’t say she was surprised but being surrounded so quickly had her looking around her, wide-eyed.

“Hey, it’s y/l/n, right?” A redheaded man spoke first, clearly taking the lead. He looked friendly with that big grin of his, his hand softly pressing again y/n’s desk while he leaned forward a bit. The only problem was that he had pronounced her name quite… differently to say the least.

“What, no? You pronounce it like y/l/n!” A girl whose skin was dyed pink filled the space beside the tall man, putting a hand on his shoulder as she looked at him like he was dumb, but in an affectionate and teasing way. All the while she had been even further from the actual surname. “Right?”

“Actually, I think she pronounced it y/l/n” Someone finally got close but she couldn’t see who. It had been one of the girls who had ended up further in the back, the only thing visible from the middle of the circle being her black hair.

Y/n was about to say something, explain that she didn’t really mind what they called her, but before she could get a word out someone had elbowed their way to the front of her desk. Her eyes lit up and she instinctively stood up at the sight of him.

“ Y/n!” He exclaimed, his eyes glowing with excitement as he nearly slammed his hands down on the desk. The girl matched his smile all the while she climbed around her desk and past the people around it.

“Izuku!” She didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. The slightly taller male took a second to try and find an appropriate place to put his hands which was obvious to any onlooker. He settled for placing them on her upper back, pulling her closer and letting out a small, awkward laugh. But their good moods didn’t seem to rub off on the others around them as the room went quiet.

The two pulled away once they noticed the sudden silence, taking a step away from each other. It only took Midoriya a second to realize what the others were thinking and as he did, his face suddenly burned up from the embarrassment while his hands flew up in a defensive manner. It took y/n another second to catch on, at first confused by her friend's reaction. But then it hit her.

“I-is Midoriya dating the new girl?!” A blonde man with a dyed black streak of hair looked the most shocked from the situation, his face coated in a light blush from second-hand embarrassment. Midoriya looked at him and started stuttering out a defense.

“No! N-no, no, w-we’re really not! She’s just an old friend, like a really old friend? Childhood friend actually–” He was sweating bullets as he tried his best to explain the situation but the girl realized she’d have to cut the tension.

“It’s nothing like that! We’re old friends and he couldn’t really say my surname as a kid so… We just call each other by our first names. You guys can call me y/n too, I really don’t mind.” She gave them a sweet smile and it luckily managed to change the mood in the room to a more relaxed one as people realized they hadn’t just seen two lovers embrace for the first time in years. While away, y/n had totally forgotten about the intimacy that calling someone by their first name brought here in Japan.

“W-well alright everyone! Let’s give our new student some space, no one should be trapped by their desk like this!” A man with glasses managed to get into the tight-knit circle and signaled with his arm to give the girl some space. Everyone did as they were told, backing away and instead opting to find somewhere else to sit as they talked. It didn’t take long for people to find new places to sit, some by their desks, and others just stood in smaller groups, far enough to let the air waft through the room but close enough so no one would need to shout while talking.

“So, y/l– I mean y/n, you have to spill it, what’s your quirk?” That red-headed man spoke up again, showing off his sharp teeth when he spoke and crossed his arms over his chest while leaning on what could be assumed to be his own desk.

And so the interrogation started and y/n would have to spill everything. From where she came from to what she could do with her quirk and what her limits were. Her favorite bad movie even came up somewhere in there and she had been suspiciously quick at answering that one. But most importantly, everyone had introduced themselves. Well everyone but one.

But she already knew who he was.

Bakugou hadn’t made a move since the class ended, hadn’t said a word. Y/n had already noticed his presence and with it, an eerie feeling had overcome her. The blonde had just sat there, scrolling through his phone and never once looked up to her knowledge. It was way different than the loud-mouthed kid she had known and it made her uncomfortable. But it wasn’t like she could say anything, the last time they had spoken still replayed in her head whenever she stole a glance his way. She knew she couldn’t just keep acting like he didn’t exist for the rest of the year though, that was glaringly obvious.

You were going to be heroes, right?

“Hey y/n, you’re going to be living with us in the dorms, right? Why don’t we continue talking over there? I'm getting hungry��” Tsuyu tilted her head while she spoke, her tongue sticking out of her mouth like it tended to do. She got a quiet murmur of agreeing voices as people nodded along, they had to admit that they were getting hungry too. Even y/n smiled and nodded, jumping off the desk she had been sitting on as she grabbed her bag, getting ready to leave. Midoriya and Uraraka who had been close to her looked at each other before they went and grabbed their stuff themselves, continuing their quiet conversation about classes the next day.

Y/n was about to join them when a voice pulled her to a stop, a wave of something familiar washing over her.

“Oi shitty-hair, did you guys talk about what we were having for dinner or did that get lost in your pointless ramblings?” She didn’t need to look at who was talking, she already knew. The voice was different from what she remembered, it was much deeper and there was a hint of a growl coming from the back to his throat when he spoke. But it was Bakugou alright.

She stood with her back to the speaker, unsure of what to do. She was weighing her options and pursing her lips when Midoriya came back up to her again, worried.

“Hey y/n, we’re about to head out. You coming?” He asked, quietly and softly as to not startle the girl in thought. She looked up at him, surprised and he tried giving her a reassuring smile. At that moment she knew what she needed to do.

“In a second, you guys can go on ahead. I know where the dorm is, I just need to do something before going back.” She tried her best to give him a smile that would put him at ease but he wasn’t convinced. She didn’t even need to look at Bakugou for him to know what she was talking about. He shifted his gaze to behind her and watched the man, furrowing his brows before looking back at the girl in front of him. Meeting her big, bright eyes he let out a sigh and then smiled, giving her a nod.

“Alright. I’ll see you back at the dorm then, y/n.” He waited for a beat before speaking again. “Welcome back.”

Midoriya left the classroom along with some of the other students, throwing y/n one last glance before they went out the door. But she never noticed, having already turned around and taken the few steps it took for her to get to the designated desk. Kirishima was still occupying Bakugou’s time, talking about something she couldn't focus on deciphering.

As she took the last step, placing herself on the other side of the small table, Bakugou turned his head to look at her. He had seen someone moving in his peripheral but he didn’t expect to see her face so close so soon. Shock crossed his face for less than a second before the uncaring facade kicked in again and he turned to address Kirishima who hadn’t stopped talking.

“Alright, I got it, I’m not stupid.” He snapped, glaring at his friend which shut him up quickly. He looked puzzled as he hadn’t even told him what he wanted to say. But he only needed to give the girl a quick glance to realize why he had been so abruptly silenced. He didn’t need to be verbally told that there was tension between the two of them, he could practically see it.

“Uh, right, well I’ll just head over to the dorm with the others. I… assume I will see you guys later? Don’t be late or I can’t promise there’ll be any dinner left!” Kirishima adjusted the bag on his shoulder as he started to move towards the door. He looked to the girl and then back towards his friend, wondering what had happened between, what he thought was two strangers, that could set the mood this tense. But assuming he knew his friend well, he threw y/n a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

In the end, it was just the two of them. Bathing in the warm light of the setting sun, they cast tall shadows on the wall. The only thing separating the two was the male’s desk, clean and empty. Face to face for the first time in 10 years. It was weird, she thought. She had imagined this moment over and over again in her head. The moment she would explain to him just how… terrible he was. Just how much he had hurt her all those years ago. How stupid he was. How mean, evil, egocentric, narcissistic and idiotic he was. How he was a straight up villain to her.

Yet when she finally stood here with him, she felt no need.

“Hey.” She smiled at him, softly.

“... Hey.” He quietly mumbled back, trying to swallow the clump that was forming in his throat. He didn’t dare to actually look her in the eyes or he was sure that he’d sink through the floor.

“I just wanted to tell you… we don’t need to be friends.” She spoke with a lighthearted tone, clasping her hands behind her back. He finally looked up at her, surprised that she had continued in such a friendly tone. His raw, red eyes met hers and he felt his heart almost skip a beat. It was so stupid, the effect she had on him. No matter how much he tried to shove it down, ignore it, every time she did stuff like this he melted. But this time, it wasn’t the same. His heart twisted in his chest at her words, not that he let that show. “But I don’t want to feel like we can’t even talk. We’re about to be heroes right? And communication is important, or something like that.”

“Something like that…” He muttered and pulled his eyes away from hers, looking to his empty desk again while putting his hands in his pockets.

“And all that stuff happened is in the past, so let’s just... forget it happened. Like I said, we don’t have to be friends. Strangers work perfectly fine with me.”

“No hero cries like that you know?”

He didn’t respond. He hated the way she had said strangers. But he didn’t know what to say to it, he didn’t want to fuck it up again. Hurt her again so maybe strangers were best. She knew how he could be, she knew he was terrible at expressing himself so she didn’t expect to get an answer. Instead, she held out her hand.

“So, my name is y/l/n y/n, I’m a student at UA and future pro-hero. It’s nice to meet you.”

“So useless. You can’t help anyone if you’re this sensitive!”

His head snapped up to look at her face which was just confidently smiling at him, waiting for him to shake her hand. It was stupid but he took her hand in his anyways. His calloused fingers enveloping hers as he gave her a firm grip.

“This is so dumb.” He muttered under his breath, but despite his words a smile was pulling at his lips. “My name is Bakugou Katsuki. Hero in training and future #1 hero.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a crybaby, y/n”

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ger-bearofrivia · 4 years ago

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Future Dates and Snapchat Seduction 💌

summary: Henry finally grows a pair and asks the reader out on a date then tease each other over a Snapchat rendezvous.

Part 2 of my Ceo Henry fic series

read part 1 here: Pen Marks and Coffee Cups

AN: sorry this took so long I’ve been a little uninspired lately.

It was the end of the day when you heard a knock on the door. You turn to see Henry leaning against the door frame.

“Mr. Cavill. How can I help you?” you ask while continuing to put your laptop into your bag. Henry pushes himself off the doorframe stepping into your office.

”We need to talk.” he stated closing the door behind him.

”okay. About what?” you put your purse on the lounge couch that sat against the wall. Henry walked over to your desk sitting on it.

”Us." he paused "Um, I want to take our relationship to the next level but I’d like to ask you out on a date first. And if that one goes well maybe some other ones as well. Unless you don't want to then we can continue how we were before.” he stutters. Something you'd never seen him do before. Henry was usually this confident almost cocky man that got what he wanted when he asked, no if and or buts about it. But here he seemed almost nervous as if he has been contemplating on the right words to say. It was cute, he was showing a side of him that he never showed to any of his work colleagues before. Or maybe he has but you've been too oblivious or busy to notice. Either way, you liked it. You rest your hand on his cheek bringing your lips to his in a soft kiss different than the hard passionate ones you usually shared. He kissed back resting a large hand on your hip rubbing the area with his thumb. You pull back smiling.

”Henry I would love to go out on a date with you. ” he lets out a sigh of relief.

”Good. Great actually how about tomorrow night at seven?” he suggests.

”perfect. Oh and Henry I want to take our relationship to the next level too.” You whisper and you could see his eyes light up. God, he’s so cute. “How long have I worked here?”

Like six years.” He answers

“And out of those six I interned under you for two. With the best sex I’ve ever had but that’s not the point. All these years I’ve only dreamed of you saying those words Henry.” He smiles down at you then pecks your lips.

"The sex is great but I’ve come to notice that I want our relationship to be more than work and sex. I want to get to know you personally and build a relationship with you. You're so smart and passionate about your work and I love that about you. But that's all I know of you. I want to know more, you just fascinate me.”

”like what?”

”I don't know. Like what kind of music you dance to while you cook.” he laughs and you laugh with him. You wrap your arms around his neck.

”well it depends on what I'm in the mood for. Some days it's whatever is on the radio or classic rock usually.” he rests his forehead on yours. He opens his mouth as if to ask you something else but you quickly press a finger to his lips to shush him. ”now you don't want to spoil the date by asking me all your questions. Save some for tomorrow, now I must get home to get my beauty sleep if you want me to look beautiful for tomorrow.” you jest

”Honey, you always look beautiful.”

”Well you haven't seen me first thing in the morning love. My hair alone takes me forever to tame, imagine with everything else.” he laughed again pulling you closer until lips meet in a brief kiss. Wow, you could kiss him forever. Henry squeezes your hip before pulling away and standing from your desk.

“ I guess your right. You haven’t seen what a curly mess my hair is in the morning. It doesn’t take as long to style it on a good day. ”

"What your hair is naturally curly?” you asked somewhat shocked. Yes, you could see some curls but your thought that was just from styling it.

”Yeah if I grow out my hair it would be a curly mop on top of my head.”

”Ha, I'd love to see that. Henry Cavill billionaire company owner straitens hair for work. ”

”not straitens just style it. The jell holds it straight after I comb it through. I've tried almost every hairstyle that is work acceptable.” he defends.

”really like what?”

”trust me everything. Buzzcut, long on top shaved on the sides, slicked back, even had a bun when I was younger.” you burst out laughing at the thought of Mr. Henry Cavill in a man bun. ”hey not funny I was young” he defeated himself again.

” so you were that guy.”

”Yeah and I was and still am proud of it.” your laugh dies down to a gentle giggle. He was showing his soft side admitting things that he'd never tell someone before. Fuck it feels like your falling for him all over again. You feel your face heat up. ”you won't be laughing once I find some pictures to show you.”

”oh my gosh, please do” you let out a joyous sigh then said, “We should get going it’s starting to get late.”

“Yeah, we should. May I walk you to your car.” He says holding out an arm for you to hold. You grab your bag before you interlock your arms.”

“Such a gentleman” you lean into his arm not having to worry about anyone seeing the both of you together because you're that last two leave. You turn off all the lights in your office then put your bag on the floor so you could lock the door.

“Here let me hold that for you.” He offered, slinging his bag across his chest first before picking up yours.

“Like I said such a gentleman.”

“I’ll make sure to tell my mom that you said that.”

“I bet that she’ll be glad to hear

that she raised such a sweetheart like you.” You tease.

“She definitely will” he pecks your lips before you both walk to the elevator. You press the button then walk into the elevator then lean back against Henry’s chest. Somehow this feels natural as if you’d been together forever. The doors open and you both walk out and say goodbye to the security guard, Henry’s fingers brush against yours before they intertwined together. That’s new. You never thought of Henry to be much a hand holder but again it felt so natural the way they fit together. He leads you to your car which you unlock while walking towards it. Without letting go of your hand he opens the passenger side and placed your bag gently on the seat. He then guided you to the driver's side and opened the door for you. This couldn’t be the same Henry that would vigorously push you up against a wall and fucked the life out of you. He's breaking down walls for you, you notice making your heart flutter.

“Thank you, good sir”

“Anything for you my lady.” You laugh and he smiles down at you resting a hand on your cheek. He guides your face up and leans down to kiss you.

“Mm,” you hum into to kiss before pulling away. “I could kiss you all night” you peck his lips “but we really should get going.”

“So you're just gonna tease me then leave me kitten. You outta be punished.” He growls in your ear and you can feel a wetness begin to pool in your panties. He notices the change in your expression noticing how flustered you’ve become. He knew what you wanted and he’d not gonna give it to you. “Very well then, have fun at home alone.”

“Oh I won’t be alone I have a date with my vibe and long hot bath. I’ll let the rest to your imagination.” You pat his cheek before kissing it. You pull away and step backward but he grabs hips pinning you against your car. “Fuck Henry. “ you moan against his lips feeling his hard member grind against you letting out an exasperated whine as he steps back.

“I get the word. Goodnight ms. L/N, oh and be ready by the time I get there you know I don’t like it when you keep me waiting.” Without another word, he turns walking over to his car, and drove away. You step into your car groaning as you rest your head on the wheel.

“I hate it when he does that.” Which was a complete lie you loved when he edged you this it always leaves you ten times wetter

at home you strip, putting the dirty clothes in the hamper before going into the bathroom

You open Snapchat to send him a few pics. You both had a separate account specifically for these special conversations, mainly using it for this purpose to keep text messages clean. Once situated in the tub you send him a video of your legs spread out in front of the faucet with the stream hitting your clit and moaning his name. Fuck you hope this relationship works out, he was good at fucking you but damn the thought of him fucking you with a passion that's more than just sex made your legs shake. Him telling you how much he loves you, that you're perfect, and wouldn't want to have anyone else was heaven. The phone buzzed pulling you out of your haze.

Henry: I thought you had a date with your vibrator

You: Oh I do I’m just getting warmed up

Henry: Even, after all, I did in the parking lot

You: Of course, you did a number on me but I have to prepare myself for multiple orgasms.

Henry: I wish I was there to see that

You: Maybe you’ll get to see tomorrow

Henry: Mm sorry love I don’t fuck on the first date

You: You really are an asshole

Henry: You were being a brat so you get to suffer.

You: How do you know if I’m suffering?

Henry: I’m not there to make you feel good. Why else would you be messaging me, my love?

You: Fuck you 😤

Henry: You wish.

You moan as the pressures of the faucet hits your clit in the perfect most sensitive area. You threw your head back and moaned feeling the pressure build-up. You quickly press the button to record your orgasm then sent it to Henry.

You: Well, I think that’s enough for you today.

Henry: excuse me you messaged me first.

You: Bye Henry.

You type interrupting what he was going to write.

Henry: Oh your so going to get punished for this

You: I thought you said you didn’t fuck on the first date.

Henry: I don’t but the extra day gives me time to plan the perfect punishment.

You feel yourself drip.

You: Better make it good then. Really make sure I learn my lesson this time. Now go take care of your self.

Henry: What if I don’t need to

You: Are you having a little problem getting your self up hun? Do I have to send more pictures to help?

Henry: Shut up you brat. You know very well my dick works. If it didn’t why would you come crawling to my office every day, begging me to fuck you.

With that, he sent you a pic then turned off his phone to finish himself off. You get two more orgasms before you call it a night and go to bed.

#the witcher #henry cavill #henry cavill x you #the witcher x reader #my writing💌#💌#henry cavill smut

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yukiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Sothis, Loathing

Thank you so much for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! I hope you like it!

Summary: In Askr, there were many stories of Heroes who had fought against Dragons of Destructions back in their own worlds, to the point that at least one out of three people had come from a world threatened by an evil dragon. Sothis felt the presence of one tailing her as she and Byleth went to look into their circumstances...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Having a physical body was more exhausting than Sothis remembered; if she had any memories at all, though.

Not counting the pesky Golden Deer poking at her patience at every waking moment, there was also the issue of walking with your own two feet to move from place to place. Never would Sothis think that she would’ve preferred to be a non corporeal being if it meant never having to stomp her bare foot on the cold stone again.

Of course, it wasn’t as though she actually had to stomp on the floor, but not stomping wasn’t an option, especially whenever she felt irritated, so the goddess could always be seen wearing a scowl unbefitting of her small stature. She crossed her arms as she and Byleth headed to the library as it had been their custom for the past few days.

Commander Anna and the Summoner had made it seen through their actions that the books in Anna’s office weren’t privy to the heroes, so it fell on Byleth and Sothis themselves to research their circumstances. Unexpectedly enough, there were many books that hailed from Fódlan in that strange, almost mystical, library. It looked like the size of a small room from the outside, but spammed rows and more rows of bookcases as though they headed ad infinitum.

Once they entered, Byleth immediately made eye contact with Robin, the ylissean tactician.

“Oh, Byleth. Reading again today?” The white-haired man smiled politely, nodding to his fellow researcher.

“Yes. Literature from my own world hasn’t been helpful so I wanted to broaden my scope.” The Professor replied with a business-like tone, making Robin nod in agreement.

“Mhm, mhm. I, too, read many books from other worlds while looking into my own, so I can give you a few recommendations if you want?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Byleth concurred, stealing a glance at Sothis as though she was a child getting in the way of adult’s talk.

She squinted once their eyes met, as though she could read his thoughts. “Even if I possess a physical body at the moment, it does not mean that our shared mindscape is empty, you fool.”

Perhaps it was because Sothis was a non corporeal being from the start, but Byleth found it difficult to access their mindscape once they reached Askr, so hearing her confirm that she had access to his thoughts to some degree only made his smile grow.

He patted Sothis on the head as he chatted away with Robin, picking up the tactician’s suggested books before heading to an empty table. The three of them sat there -- Byleth and Sothis on one side with Robin opposite of them -- as they discussed the similar topics of their worlds as well as other interesting connections.

Robin tried to insert Sothis into the conversation from time to time as well, but she only rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear him, wanting to have nothing to do with a conversation borne out of pity.

It’s here again, Sothis thought with annoyance as she felt a piercing gaze burn a hole at the back of her neck,. She had felt someone observing her movements the day after they had arrived, wondering what they could possibly want from a goddess that’s probably not even the one they had in their world.

Narrowing her eyes, Sothis looked back from her seat, seeing the tips of a fluttering cape -- or cloak -- disappear behind a large bookshelf.

She then jumped onto the floor from the tall chair, landing without a sound as Byleth checked on her with the corner of his eyes. She tapped on his hand before leaving, as though signaling him that she would be close.

Nodding, Byleth simply let her do as she pleased and kept talking with Robin.

The only sound following Sothis was the low hiss of her long dress dragging behind her calm yet rushed steps towards that revolting presence she had felt observe her.

The moment she reached the bookshelf, she crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, most likely to make herself sound imposing although she could barely reach people’s chests with her short height.

“State your business at once.” Sothis commanded with the authority of a goddess towards the malevolent aura that surrounded the man Sothis had just been with back at the table: the presence wore Robin’s face and body like a cloak.

“... Why are you so chummy with your vessel?” Grima’s distorted voice sounded from deep within Robin’s throat, making Sothis narrow her eyes even more at the disturbing question. Sothis stole a glance at the table, confirming that Robin and Byleth were still chatting away.

“You are not making any sense. Vessel?” She turned her gaze to this revolting individual.

Grima, who had been slouching by the bookcase, stood straight as his scrutinizing gaze observed the little girl in front of him. “I have been watching you and your vessel for the past few days, but it is truly an incomprehensible sight, so I’ve had no choice but to ask. Why are you forming bonds with him when all you’ll do is overlap his ego with yours?”

Sothis’s eyes shook and she almost forgot how to breathe. “What manner of nonsense are you speaking of right now? It is indeed true that we are here in search of ways to separate ourselves but- for me to take over a body that isn’t mine?”

The man surrounded in a dark aura took one hand to his chin in thought as he observed the girl in silence. After a few seconds, his eyes slowly widened as though he had come to a conclusion. “You truly have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Enough with this play with words!” Sothis seethed, somehow remembering to keep her voice down despite stomping her foot hard on the wooden floor.

Shaking his head, Grima peeked at the direction of the table, watching as another vessel that was made specifically for him laughed as though his future wasn’t set in stone. He slowly opened his mouth to speak. “I, too, suffered from memory loss after taking over this body -- I still have gaps in my memory, so I’ll let you in on a good piece of information, from one god to the other: that man you’re so attached with, he’s even more twisted than this flesh I wear.” Grima placed one hand over his own chest. “You managed to make a meat-puppet that was capable of thought while infusing him with your own power as his center.”

Everything Grima said flew right over Sothis’ head, making the girl blink in confusion. However, Grima continued.

“For me to be able to inhabit this body, I had to wait a millennia for the right vessel to be born. Countless years I waited for the right combination of blood and darkness to gather in a human so I could wear him to unleash my power to the world.” Grima spoke nonchalantly, as though they were talking a stroll. A devious smirk grew on the corners of his mouth. “But this? You managed to accurately craft a jar of flesh and blood with the minimum of free will necessary to make your take over as smooth as possible. It is inspiring -- perhaps the next body I inhabit will be crafted to perfection just so I don’t have to deal with that buzzing ego that never seems to go away.”

The tips of Sothis’ fingers grew cold at the sheer absurdity of what she was hearing. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest -- something that would be impossible were it not for Askr’s magic -- which also made her recall some long lost memories.

They were simple glimpses of what once was, and immediately disappeared from her memory as she grasped them, like dust to the wind. She felt like the darkness of those who live under the ground was shaking her very being into remembering something vital to her sense of self.

Each time she saw it, she forgot it immediately. Only the vague and unsettling sense of foreboding engulfed her like a wave.

“Do not-” her voice shook, “do not compare me to servants of the darkness like you filth!” Sothis’ shoulders trembled, though not by fear nor self-preservation.

She was angry.

She was furious.

That entire speech hit her the wrong way, making the girl want to stomp on that bug who wore Robin’s face.

Grima, however, threw his head back in a low, mocking chuckle. “Servant? I am the lord. Wherever I step, darkness follows.” His sharp gaze pierced into hers, as though they shared a battle of wills.

That made Sothis open and close her fists lest she used the draconic power inside of her to obliterate that lowly being that dared to suggest that she- that she did something so inhumane!

“Besides, it is fruitless to direct your anger at me; the deed is done and the meat-puppet grew into a fine specimen ready for the overtaking.” Grima pointed at Byleth’s back, accurately pointing to the place where his heart would be. “The center of your power is there, you need simply to call upon it.”

Angry as she might’ve been, Sothis felt compelled to look at the direction the finger was pointing. She gasped once she noticed something she had never paid attention to before.

Perhaps it was because she and Byleth had shared the same body, so it was a different issue to be able to pinpoint something within one’s shared body and when looking from the outside. Sothis could see that Grima’s finger pointed straight to the center of Byleth’s body; to the place that his heart should’ve occupied.

She felt a power akin to her own in there -- no, it wasn’t merely ‘akin’, but identical! She could feel as though a piece of herself was there, right inside Byleth’s heart.

Or perhaps, it was there in place of his heart, as the core of his entire being.

When had she left that power there? Was it the reason why Byleth had been so apathetic the first time they met?

Loathe as she was to trust Grima’s words, Sothis couldn’t help but feel that what he had said was true: Byleth barely had had an ego before he started teaching. He also had the power of a god sleeping inside of him.

Perhaps the anomaly in this case was Sothis appearing in his mind instead of overtaking his body right away as Grima suggested.

She had heard about Grima from Robin during their constant meetings in the library, so Sothis was aware of how a god could descend onto a human being of their choice -- but to think that Byleth seemed like a fabricated being that would only serve as her medium to the world?

That felt wrong. No, that felt terrible.

Was Sothis this kind of person before she lost her memories? Someone so terribly calculating that they would make an entire new body from scratch and imbue it with some power before being allowed to take over it once the time came?

Sothis was confused.

She felt repulsed by Grima’s acts, but since there was not much for her to go on regarding her and Byleth’s situations since it all already happened, there was nothing Sothis could do apart from keep on researching.

Robin wasn’t even the only proof of a god descending on a human’s body in this world, either, so the more Sothis thought about it, the more sense Grima’s words made. But she refused to even think that he could have been right at some point, not wanting her own self to be someone she loathed.

Noticing the horror in the girl’s eyes, Grima simply took a few steps back to hide beneath the shadows, ever observing these new players that had come to this immense play that was the world Askr.

#fire emblem three houses #feheroes #fe3h #fire emblem heroes #byleth fire emblem #sothis fire emblem #my writings #yuki's commissions

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erinxneil · 4 years ago

Text

Stay with Me

This story will be based on the song:

Walk Me Home - P!nk

Primarily based on the lyric:

When I saw everything as good, but now you’re the only thing that’s good.

This was suggested by @my-own-oracle and I am super happy that you did! This was actually the most recent request that I got for this and I still have a few others i need to do, but I wanted to do this one next for several reasons. 1) The request mysteriously disappeared from my messages and was only available in the tab I still had open. 2) This song genuinely takes me back to a better time and means so much to me. 3) I just really was in the mood to write about our boy lol. Usually for these I just base these off a single lyric and write the story around that but for this one, I think the whole idea of Spencer walking the reader home and the reader asking him to stay because she doesn’t want to be alone is just super cute. Again thank you so much for suggesting this and if anyone would like for me to write a story about their ship based off a song you can send your requests anytime, the original post is here ! I was asked to write this story using the pairing Spencer and Reader from Criminal Minds!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide

Summary: Spencer comforts Reader while she’s having a tough time.

Loud music. Voices buzzing. Spilled alcohol on the floor. Someone probably throwing up in the corner of the room.

Y/N never really liked clubs, and especially not today. The team had wanted to go out to celebrate a successful case. however she didn’t really feel like partying. This particular case had struck a chord with her, and she hadn’t been able to get over it.

The killer in this scenario had been targeting the youngest siblings, manipulating them into trusting him by honing in on their feelings of insignificance in their own life.

As someone whose youngest sibling had succumbed to these feelings and taken her own life, Y/N really did not appreciate this case.

Yesterday was a year since, and it was like this was the universe’s way to keep reliving it.

“Hey, Y/N!” I glanced up from the inside of my drink, lost in thoughts, in the direction that I heard Prentiss call my name.

I forced a smile onto my face as I gazed over at her, JJ following behind. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere, why aren’t you dancing?” I laughed curtly. “I just needed a beat. The music’s getting to me.” The girls nodded. “Well, when you’re feeling better, come join us! We wanna dance with you!”

I grinned as they walked away, the smile immediately dropping the moment they fell out of sight. Sure, they were profilers, but I was exceedingly good at hiding my emotions. Practically nobody could ever tell what I was feeling, except-

“Y/N, what’s up?”

I smiled softly at the voice behind me before turning around and forcing it to grow wider. “Spence! I’m peachy. How are you?”

He raised an eyebrow, as if to say, I’m not buying it.

“In all of the time that I have known you, you have only ever said the word “peachy” twice, and both times were with sarcastic intent.”

I blinked. “Sometimes I forget you’re an actual genius with an eidetic memory.” I forced a laugh but Spencer’s face contorted as if the sound pained him.

“Do you wanna head out? I’m getting a headache from this music. Sorry to be a buzzkill, I know I’m supposed to walk you home, and you’re having so much fun but I think we should leave.” I felt the corners of my lips perk up slightly as he spoke. Spencer didn’t do subtle. While he may think he was being subtle, I knew exactly what he was doing. And I appreciated it greatly. I nodded my head, and we walked around to say goodbye to everyone, Spencer taking full responsibility for our sudden departure.

We got outside and began to walk. It was silent for a moment,both of us admiring the beauty of the sky. It was almost pitch black, few stars speckling the night sky. I glanced up at them before Spencer finally spoke.

“So,” he began, “Rough day, huh?” I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. “Me? I’m sure I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Spencer sighed. “You don’t have to play this game with me, Y/N. I know this case hit you hard, especially considering the timing, and if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but never feel like you have to lie to me.” I tensed. He knew. Of course he knew. He has an eidetic memory, he’s probably been watching you writhing all day, all knowing that yesterday you were forced to remember the worst moment of your life, and that the case today only amplified that.

I didn’t respond for a moment, before replying. “I was the one who found her, you know.” My voice was quiet. “I was coming home after a long day at work. I’d brought home icecream for her. I walked up to her room and-” I struggled to get the words out, my voice getting hoarse, when I felt a pressure on my hand. I glanced over at Spencer, to see his jaw locked tightly and his gaze locked forward, but his hand still rested over mine in comfort. He glanced at me quickly, a sudden softness in his eyes filled with evident concern.

I sighed. “I just wish there was something I could’ve done. I’m a profiler for gods-sake, how wasn’t I able to tell that my own baby sister was hurting?”

Spencer frowned. “You were there for her as much as you could have. And now, you’re using that to help even more people. We wouldn’t have been able to solve that case today without you suggesting that he was likely preying on the youngest siblings insecurities. That would’ve caused even more families to lose their baby sibling.”

I blinked away the tears that sprung from my eyes, trying to hide them from Spencer, but he of course noticed. His thumb began to run circles around the backside of my hand and I sighed. “Thank you, Spencer. For everything.” I glanced over at him to see him already smiling at me.

We soon arrived to my apartment. “Here, I’ll walk you up.” Spencer offered. I grinned. “Spence, you really don’t need to. You’ve done so much already-” Before I could even finish my sentence, Spencer was already walking through the doors of my apartment complex. I chuckled and followed behind him.

When we got to my room, I placed down my stuff.

“Are you alright?” He asked finally. I smiled at him. “I’m not going to break, Reid.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and warmth spread through me. “Spence, do you remember when we first met?” He nodded. “It was 492 days, 12 hours, 42 minutes and...” He checked his watch. “36 seconds ago.”

I chuckled. Of course he knew the exact date and time.

“And do you remember what happened when we met?” It was practically a rhetorical question. We both knew that he remembered. He nodded, a look of uncertainty on his face, as if he wasn’t sure where I was going with this.

“You looked at me and spouted some random fact about the probability of the occurrence of tsunami’s in the East coast, and I turned to Morgan, and I said ‘this must be the genius boy you were telling me about.’“ He smiled softly, clearly remembering. “From that moment, I felt completely at peace. It seemed as if everything in my life was going great. I had a great job, great family, and I knew I was bound to make some great new friends.”

He tilted his head, appreciating the sentiment but unsure of why I suddenly brought it up. “Sorry, I know it seems random. It’s just- seeing you roll your eyes like that, it just takes me back to that time of my life where I felt like everything was good.” I sighed. “Some days, Spence, it seems like you’re the only thing in my life that’s good anymore.”

Spencer immediately wrapped me in an embrace. “I’m always here for you, Y/N. Always.” I smiled into the crook of his neck, hugging him tighter. It was odd. I had the sudden urge to cry into his shoulder and just to have him hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright, despite the fact that I refuse to shed a single tear around anyone else.

I eventually pulled away, knowing Spencer wouldn’t have let go until I did. His hands still rest around my waist and my arms around his neck. I smiled at him and he grinned back.

He cleared his throat. “Well uh, I guess I’d better get going then-” He turned as if to walk away before i grabbed hold of one of his hands.

“Stay.”

We stared at each other a moment. My cheeks flushed, realizing the implications of what I said. I didn’t necessarily mean anything by it, I just really wanted him to stay with me tonight. “Please. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just.. really don’t want to be alone right now. If you don’t want to it’s fi-”

Spencer grabbed hold of both of my hands in his and smiled at me. “I’ll stay as long as you’d like me to, Y/N.”

I changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts, and for Spencer I grabbed a large t-shirt and sweatpants that my older brother had left here.

“I’m not sure if these will fit, but it’s probably the best I’ve got.” I glanced up from the clothes to find Spencer staring at me. I felt myself fidget under the weight of his gaze and my cheeks heated up. What was he doing? Were there stains on this shirt or something?

“Uh, Spence?” He blinked, as if ripped from a trance. “Y/N! Sorry! I just- uh.. I’ve never seen you in anything other than clothes from work.” I watched him scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, flipping his hair to cover his face. Was Spencer Reid blushing?

I grinned at the thought and handed him the clothes, which he quickly took and practically sprinted to the bathroom. I chuckled before heading in the direction of my bedroom, thankful I had cleaned the place yesterday during my day off. Spencer walked in the room shortly after and paused, observing his surroundings. He was no doubt trying to profile me, if not simply just because of instinct.

He walked over to my vinyl collection and ran his thumb over the slightly worn covers. “You like a lot of old music.” He commented. It wasn’t a question. He could tell.

I didn’t really mind him trying to profile me. He wasn’t trying to be nosy. It just allowed him to get to know me better without me even having to say a word, which I think is pretty great.

He smiled as he came across my book collection. He picked up my copy of Wuthering Heights and fingered through the pages. He probably noted the messy handwriting smudged between the margins and the creases in the pages where I had left as a bookmark. He probably noted the coffee stain on page 187, dark enough for him to realize I took my coffee black.

“Do you annotate all of your books?” I grinned. “Yeah, I like to be able to read it later again and know exactly what was going through my mind during the last time I read it.”

I heard soft laughter as he flipped through the pages of another book. “Only you would leave comments making fun of Shakespeare in the margins of Romeo and Juliet.” I chuckled.

He then came across my makeup table, which was a sight that’d make a neat freak weep. Despite having cleaned my place yesterday, when I do my makeup in the morning I tend to throw my products everywhere. I use the same three products everyday but I always manage to lose them in the box of products, so the table is a scattered array of mascara, highlight, and eye-shadow.

He turned back to face me. “Sorry for looking through your things. A persons room just tells you so much about them.” I smiled. “And what did you learn about me, Dr. Reid?”

“You’re organized in a disorganized way. You clean your place often because you dislike the cluttered feeling that you get when it’s messy, however if the place was messy you would still manage find. You’d still know where everything is and how to find it. You desire to maintain the status of olden days and are still stuck in the past in some aspects of your life. You don’t wish to move foward, as you’re scared of what the future may hold and dislike change. You thoroughly enjoy reading and reread the same books often because you like the familiarity that they offer and you aren’t unsure of the ending. I’m sure you look up spoilers to any show or movie that you watch after the first ten moments because you can’t handle not knowing.”

I stared at him. “Wise observations, Dr. Reid.” He blushed again and I laughed, throwing a pillow at him. “You’re cute. Why do you keep blushing at everything I say?”

He laughed aswell, turning slightly to shield himself from the pillow. “Leave me alone, Y/L/N!” We joked around for a bit more before we both sat on the edge of my bed in comfortable silence.

After a while, Reid sighed. “Well, I’ll go take the couch then-” I reached out and grabbed his hand as he began to sit up.

“Could you actually... stay with me?”

He turned to face me, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Is that what you want?” I nodded in response. Spencer paused for a moment longer, before smiling and agreeing. I grinned and crawled into bed and Spencer followed behind awkwardly. We glanced at each-other and started laughing.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” “A little bit, but it’s alright.” We chuckled before it soon became silent again.

“Thank you again, Spencer.” I quietly murmured.

He wrapped an arm around me in response, and I fell asleep to him whispering in my ear, “Anytime, Y/N.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

Sorry for not posting for 2 days!! I was preparing for going on vacation and didn’t have much time. Keep sending me requests!

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gwynposting · 4 years ago

Text

All Along the Watchtower (Ch. 4)

This story takes place after “The Star” ending of Cyberpunk 2077, so spoilers ahead.

AO3 Link | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

The life-sustaining scent of coffee finally entered her lungs - the one thing her body craved more than her newfound nicotine addiction. Its sultry aroma always fooled her into thinking she’d soon be filling her stomach with anything other than the bargain brand coffee grounds she’d manage to scrounge. The sound of the coffee machine at work, the aroma that filled the air - to her sleep-addled mind it was almost hypnotic. More than once had she been shaken out of said daze by the rather rude beeping of the coffee machine, signaling its completion.

But today broke the usual trend, in a strange way, the wait made her anxious. Her mind still felt foggy and clouded, but the rest of her body was on edge. The heel of her foot bounced up and down as she leaned against the counter, her teeth caught her lip and picked at the skin.

She had no idea why she was so antsy. She had worked with the most ruthless fixers Night City had to offer, clashed with dangerous gangers that lined every street corner. She robbed Arasaka. Twice.

In fairness, I died both times, she thought to herself, letting out a morbid chuckle. She was far too tired and far too unwilling to think into the deeper implications of what that could possibly mean. But before she could even shake the thoughts away, her attention was captured by the familiar beeping from the coffee machine.

Finally, she thought to herself, a weary smile upon her face.

She pushed herself from the counter and made her way over to the fridge. The fridge only kept the essentials - a small container of synthmilk for coffee and two cases of beer. She swiped the container and unscrewed the cap, pouring a splash in both of the cups set out on the counter, before closing it up and storing it back away. V then gingerly removed the pot of coffee and began to pour, first Judy’s cup then hers.

V took a cup in either hand and made her way to Judy’s workstation, the blue glow bleeding between the door’s cracks once more. As she opened the door, she found another familiar sight - Judy’s legs were perched on her desk, her left over her right. The braindance wreath was wrapped around her head, her editing glove was active, and she performed gestures left and right as if a conductor guiding an orchestra.

And in her own way, she was. She was the maestro of the sights, the sounds, the emotions that were displayed before her. Her deft hands weaved tracks together, enhancing and diminishing the highs and lows of her performance, her art. Her craftsmanship had made not only V, but countless others, feel sensations otherwise thought unimaginable.

V took a step forward and set out the coffee before Judy. At first Judy didn’t seem to notice, neither the sound nor peripherals breaking her out of her work, but as soon as the aroma reached her -

Judy snapped her eyes to the cup, with steam rising high against the desert morning cool. She then turned her attention left, and smiled in recognition. Her eyes were bloodshot, and dark creases had formed underneath. “Just what I needed,” she said with a gravelly voice. She brought the wreath down from her head, resting it around her neck. With a smooth motion she removed the editor from her hand and gingerly placed it on the table. Then with eager hands, she reached out and brought the steaming mug close, deeply inhaling, before taking a ginger sip.

“Thanks babe,” she cooed, beginning to feel a part of her life restored as the warmth crept down her stomach and through the rest of her body.

“Couldn’t sleep?” V asked, taking a sip from her own cup, before taking a seat on the couch that faced Judy.

Judy shook her head, “Barely got an hour or two. Around midnight I was gettin’ restless in bed but I didn’t want to wake you up. Big day and whatnot. Need you rested and alert.” Her tenor wavered against the rough undertones of exhaustion.

V nodded her head in understanding, “It’ll be okay, Jude.”

Both of them knew she had no way to know that for certain, but neither wanted to give more life to the doubts that constantly gnawed away every hour of every day. Judy opted to join V instead, grabbing the blanket on the opposite side of the couch and draping it over their laps. Judy fell into V’s embrace, a hand around her shoulder and her face resting on V’s side.

“Can I tell you somethin’ kinda dumb?” Judy broke the silence.

“You decide to follow your lifelong dream of joining Maelstrom?”

“Pssh. No, y’gonk.” Judy tried a chuckle but was either too tired or too preoccupied with the thoughts already clouding her mind. “Honestly what scares me... is the finding out part. If you know what I mean,” her hands fidgeted around her mug, “Finality.”

“Like no longer being able to tell yourself there’ll be a way out of it all?” V cut in.

“Yeah,” Judy almost whispered, “It’s like… up until this point there was an ‘at least now we can sorta pretend it’ll all be okay’ kind of feeling.”

“Almost like blissful ignorance, in a way.” V rested her cheek atop Judy’s head.

“But once all this is over, V, promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” V said without a single doubt in her breath.

“Let’s take a vacation. Just the two of us. Cross country. Actually live for a little.”

It took V a little by surprise, the concept almost felt foreign to her. No stress, just living. Living with Judy. Tears began to form in her eyes, and she found it hard to even speak.

“V?” Judy asked concerned, if not a bit anxious, pushing back to look up to V’s quivering lip.

V looked down to Judy’s worried face and blinked away tears, sending them to stream down her blushed cheeks. “I want that so fucking much, Jude.”

“Then promise me.”

“Yes,” was all V could muster.

***

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Panam turned over to V. The loud thrum of her Thorton dampened Panam’s voice, mixed with the sound of air rustling past their cabin.

V stopped fidgeting with the hair that had begun growing in on the buzzed part of her undercut and turned to Panam, “Like what?”

Panam turned deadpan, “Don’t insult me. You know what I mean.”

V blushed, giving Panam a knowing look. But she couldn’t hold a candle to the fierce gaze that met her eyes. Instead, she opted for looking out the window, gazing to the vast empty desert beyond. Her knee began rising and falling rapidly.

“A week ago you were the most annoyingly upbeat person in camp. A big improvement from the brooding silent V, mind you, but at least I knew that V was straight-edge. Are you gonna be okay for this?

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. It’s just…” V couldn’t find the right thoughts.

“It’s different now, isn’t it?” Panam finally said with understanding.

V finally found the courage to look back over, she nodded her head.

“I’ll do everything in my power to help you, V”

V nodded an appreciative smile, but returned her gaze out to the desert beyond. That’s what I’m afraid of.

***

With a slam shut of the heavy Thorton doors, V was introduced to the harsh light of the Arizona sun, bearing down with an intensity only rivaled by Mama Welles after getting into a scrap with the local gangs.

There they were - Bryce Bane - donned in a tight white corposuit, accented with a wide-brim sun hat. They sat cross legged, sipping from a rather large cup that seemed filled with 90% ice, waiting at the lone table in the middle of the abandoned wasteland. In the distance, worn down factories littered the foreground of several tall buildings. In a way, the sight reminded V of Night City. While downtown Tucson couldn’t match the sheer might of Night City, the vast web of interconnected skywalks that ran between the towers gave her a sense of familiarity.

Bryce was accompanied by two guards, one with a wide frame and rippling muscles, and the other slender, clad in a jumpsuit typical for netrunners. V and Panam approached the table side by side.

“Can’t say I expected to be meeting you here, but I suppose much changes in three years, does it not?” a teasing tone called out to the Panam. “And to meet a dead man walking, now that is something new.”

Panam and V stood before Bryce uneasy, already pushed off their game.

Bryce rolled their eyes, “Sit, sit.” They motioned for the pair to take a seat at the lonesome table. A small umbrella did its best to shield them from the desert rays, but it was clear from its condition that it had seen one summer sun too many.

“Not gonna lie Panam, you’re bringing hot shit to my doorstep. Saul’s off who knows where and you bring Arasaka’s most wanted on my doorstep?”

V flinched at the mention of Saul’s name and kept her eyes shut for a moment. Panam’s eyes flared with rage before they settled on sadness. “Saul’s dead.”

Bryce nodded in affirmation, “I see. Arasaka?” Their gaze shifted to V, remaining steeley. But they knew the answer the second the words left their lips. The pair remained silent under her gaze. Not one to linger, she asked a different question, “Why have you come here, Panam?”

Panam composed herself before continuing, “We need to get in touch with some old friends of ours in the city, and I know you’re the person to ask.”

“Well you are certainly correct on that - the problem is I don’t know how that concerns me?”

“Excuse me?” Panam’s voice dropped with frustration.

“You’ve dropped back into my radar with what I assume are dozens of the most wanted people in the NUSA accompanied by the merc who killed Saburo Arasaka.”

V pinched the brow of her forehead in frustration, “I never. Killed. Saburo. I keep telling this to people and yet-”

“I don’t care if you didn’t actually kill him. I care what everyone else thinks. Two thieves in Konpeki the night Saburo is zeroed? You gave them a perfect scapegoat.”

Through clenched teeth, V started, “Gee. I’ll remember that for next time.”

Panam cut through the conversation, “You and I both know the corpos don’t know Aldecado from Snake from Raffen. They don’t care to find out either. All I hope is that they focus most of their attention on the remaining Wraiths in the area now that we’ve up and gone.”

Bryce smirked, finally enjoying the game being set in motion, “but who’s to stop big bad ‘Saka from tumbling through poor old Tucson? If they wanted to they could probably make it all through the Western states before the NUSA made any significant fuss about it.”

Panam rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“My, quite the presumptive one are we?” They took a sip from their drink, shuddering as the cool liquid radiated through their body. They paused for a moment. “You’ve recently acquired weapons - it just so happens that I need some. For use in your protection from Arasaka, I assure you.”

Panam deadpanned, “Cut the shit, I’m not giving you anything.”

“Now now, who said anything about gifts? Fair pay for quality goods,” they splayed a hand against their chest and produced a look of mock indignation, “I’m anything but a cheat.”

Panam shifted from side to side. “Fine. But you’ll come to us, we’re not bringing them out here.”

“Tsk tsk,” they tutted, “don’t trust me hmm?” Only to be met with an annoyed glare from Panam and a slightly confused look from V. With a sigh, they drawled on, “So boring… fine. I do believe you mentioned something about contacts?”

Panam motioned over to V. “We need to get in touch with a techie - Sammy Trevalo. Last time we met was in Tucson but I know he roamed up to Phoenix occasionally as well. Former Storm Tech rat, ended up burned because he was skimming secrets to Nomad groups.”

Something at the name perked Bryce’s eyebrow in interest. “Sammy hmm? What could you possibly need that old dog for?”

“Not your business.” Panam instantly shut down.

Bryce scoffed and rolled their eyes, “All biz with you nomads, jeesh. What else am I supposed to gossip about in this wasteland.” They eyed Panam and V until they realized neither were budging, before continuing with an exaggerated moan of frustration, “Fine, I know where to find your techie-” they let it hang.

Panam pinched her brow, “...How much?”

“Why free of course, what a better way to celebrate our new partnership in arms trading than a show of appreciation.” Bryce smiled a bit too brightly.

V’s mind flashed back to her and Takemura’s meeting with Wakako Okado. The ronin’s words echoed through her head, “What is free often proves most costly.”

“What’s the catch?” V broke through.

Bryce leaned forward, “Multiple layers of reinforced concrete and steel stand between you and him.”

“And you want us to get him for you,” V groaned in understanding.

Bryce shrugged with a smile, “He’s usually a rather resourceful lad, but it seems his luck ran out. Got raided by Phoenix PD and they found an assortment of stolen corpo implants… among other things. Now he’s locked up, and I don’t have the time to wait for his release nor do I want to take the risk he doesn’t survive his full sentence.”

“So you want us to break him out of a prison.” V deadpanned. Fully automatic guards, turrets, most likely a netrunner. You’d think if these cities put a fraction of their policing budget into solving the root cause, then -

“Don’t be silly. Sammy is currently being housed in a high-security prison, but seeing as it's filled to the brim, good ol’ Sam will be getting a transferral to something more low-security. And before you go thinking that it’s better for him, think more along the lines of stuffing fish in a barrel.”

“So we’re aiming to hit the transport?” V questioned.

“Precisely.” Bryce nodded with a smirk.

“Then what’re we talkin’ here, AV?” She looked over to Panam who returned the same look, hesitation.

Instead they were met with rather undignified chortling, “For a group of meatbags like them? The city would never waste money on the fuel. No, they’ll be transported by bus.”

“Now that’s more my style,” Panam smiled.

V chuckled, “What, didn’t want to take down another city’s power grid?” She turned back to Bryce. “How do you already know all this anyhow?

“I’ve been planning Sammy’s breakout since he got himself locked up. I’m the one who managed to get him on the transfer list afterall.”

“Seems like you have all your ducks in a row then,” V paused, “the question is, why bother with us then?”

Bryce huffed, “Well for starters, I’m not paying you with eddies. Call it a mutual relationship - we both need Sammy - I provide the intel you provide the muscle. Second? I’m not going to pass up using a gang of veteran convoy raiders the exact time I need a convoy raided.”

Before V could pull Panam aside to mull it over, Panam jumps at the opportunity. “Deal.”

Bryce’s eyes widen for a brief moment in surprise, clearly expecting much more of a fight, “Wonderful, love. How about I come by tomorrow and we can hash through the details then.”

“Roger. I’ll flick you the geoloc to our camp.”

“Sounds lovely, darling. Though, I do hope you have some amenities set up,” they fanned out their nails for inspection, “I must say this heat can get rather dreadful.”

Panam rolled her eyes, “Afraid you might be disappointed.”

Bryce emitted a dramatic sigh before clicking their feet together and standing up. “Tomorrow then.” They paused for a moment as they looked up to the sun that bore down on them, “...evening.”

“Tomorrow,” V and Panam said in unison.

With that, Bryce was off, tailed by their two guards.

As Bryce’s SUV drove off, back into the city, V let out a deep breath of relief, accented with a hint of trepidation. “A fucking prison break. Of course.” She said to Panam.

“Don’t like it either, V,” Panam admitted, “but they do have one thing right about us.” V tilted her head, “We’re the best damn convoy jockeys this side of the NUSA. Or do I need to remind you of the time we stole a tank?”

V tried to put a smile on, but it wavered into more of an unconvinced grimace. Panam wrapped an arm around V and shook her affectionately, “Let’s save the doom and gloom for after we find out what this heist will turn into, eh?”

“Right…” V nodded.

“And listen, V.” Panam waited until V turned towards her, “Even if it stinks to high heaven, we’re here for you.”

“That’s the part I’m worried about,” V’s voice was more steady now.

“How many times do we need to go over this V?” Panam’s fiery tone was returning once more, “We knew the risks going into Arasaka, we did it anyways.”

Panam let the silence hang but was only met with V’s unconvinced face, “And V, that raid saved this family. We were destined to either sell our souls to Biotechnica or be slowly stripped apart by Raffen Shiv. The gear we looted from ‘saka will last us years, V. Years. And when we do need to eventually find work again? The Aldecados will be etched into every fixer’s brain across the NUSA. Though,” she chuckled for a moment, “Perhaps the name ‘V’ might pop up there first. Word down the grapevine said you were a near legend already before hitting Arasaka tower. Good thing you’re with us then,” she nudged V’s arm.”

“What’re you trying to say, Panam?” V felt almost exhausted.

“I’m saying that this family owes you, V, whether you think it or not. You act as if we’ve never lost members during raids before. Hell, you should know from your days in the Bakkers, V. This is survival, and you were up there leading the charge the entire time.”

V wavered, now unsure. “Maybe…” only receiving an eye roll in response from Panam.

“So brooding my god. C’mon,” Panam stood up and offered a hand out to V, who readily accepted the help, “Let’s hit the road.”

***

The ride back wasn’t the smoothest. Decades of neglect combined with the intense weather patterns that passed over the Southwest had worn down Arizona’s infrastructure to the nub. Luckily, Panam’s Thornton was as good as trucks came when it came to suspension. But even with some of the world’s best shock absorption, V was cursing with frustration with each mistyped letter on her holo.

“Heya, evwrything wnt ok, we’re headed back.” she messaged to Judy, too annoyed to go back and fix her mistakes.

Judy’s reply was immediate, “Don’t drink and drive *and* text, V ;P”

“>:(“ V responded, her face the complete opposite of the text, a wide grin on her face, before following up, “Shit roads. Half dirt at this point.”

Judy’s response was prompt once more, “Learn anything from the meet?”

V paused for a moment, deciding whether or not she wanted to have this conversation in person or over text. She drafted up a rather short reply, “Good and bad, I’ll let you know more when we get back,” but shook her head and erased the text. Last thing she wanted Judy to do was worry unnecessarily.

“We know where to find the guy Panam was talking about. Problem is he’s locked up. I’ll explain it more when we get back to camp.”

“Oh jeesh. Well, at least we got something to go off of.”

Judy followed it up with another text. “By the way, dinner tonight smells absolutely delicious. Some sorta synthbeef stew. Living downwind of the mess hall is both tantalizing and agonizing.”

“I’ll tell Panam to step on it. Be home within the hour! :3” V texted back.

“See you soon~ <3”

Now that her thoughts were elsewhere, suddenly V didn’t seem to mind the road too much. She looked over to Panam, who glanced back with a raised eyebrow, knowing smirk along her face. “Whaat?” Panam could almost hear the smile in her words.

“Nothing.” Panam said with a chuckle, retraining her eyes back on the road, “I’m glad you finally have someone, V.”

V’s goofy-ass grin shifted into something more soft, more appreciative, “I think I’m finally happy, Panam.” V paused for a moment before continuing, a bit more somber, “I just want it to last…”

“Hey now, none of that. It will last. So keep your mind on the good, last thing we need’s a gloomy-assed merc on a convoy hijack.” Panam certainly had a way with words.

“How ‘bout a gloomy-assed Aldecado?” V grinned.

Panam only rolled her eyes in response, but was unable to fight down the smile that crept up on her face.

***

The mess hall was organized chaos. The room was filled with Aldecados lining up every which way for the day’s dinner, funneling in and around one another as people tried to both reach the food and their seats at the same time. Judy stuck to V like glue as they made their way to the old school cafeteria bench tables. They picked a spot away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd and sat on opposite sides.

V tore into her stew as if she’d not eaten for days. Judy couldn’t help but giggle to herself as she slowly worked through hers, savoring every morsel. Warmth crept upon V’s cheeks as she noticed Judy looking at her with playful judgement.

With a hearty sigh, V placed down the now empty bowl with naught a lick of broth remaining. Another Aldecado strolled by the table, fresh pot of coffee in hand, and refilled both of their cups to the brim. They both nodded in appreciation as their server set off to fill the mugs of other caffeine-hungry Aldecados.

“So,” Judy broke the silence, bringing the cup up to her lips and breathing in the aroma before taking a sip, “you had good news then?”

“Sort of,” V shrugged, “It mostly depends on the info the fixer brings us.”

“Difference between smooth sailin’ and uhh, what did you call it, V?…” she snapped her fingers as she tried to recollect.

“A turd wrapped in crepe paper?” V smirked.

“Exaaactly.”

“Essentially, yeah. Apparently Panam’s contact is locked in prison, but he’s set to be transported to another facility pretty soon. The fixer is giving us the detes on the convoy and we’re supposed to hit it.”

“Wooh,” Judy grimaced, “sounds risky then.”

“Potentially, yeah. I’m as blind as you are about the info at this point, though. Fixer’ll come by tomorrow to fill us in.”

“Any way you think I can help?”

“Can’t know if you don’t tag along yourself tomorrow~” V floated over. Her foot had found her way to Judy’s calf and had begun brushing along its length.

Judy made a face of hesitation, “Would that be like… okay?”

V reached out and took one of Judy’s hands in her own, “You’re part of this family too, Judy. Of course it’d be okay.”

Judy blushed and looked to the side, “I guess I just sometimes feel a bit… disconnected, y’know. Like I’m looking from the outside in.”

V tilted her head in confusion, “I thought you were getting along with everyone just fine? I know Panam’s taking a liking to you too.”

“It’s not that, it’s just...” Judy paused for a moment, trying to mull over her thoughts. “You got into the Aldecados by proving yourself to them, saving their hides left and right. I just sorta showed up.”

“I think I get that,” V nodded her head in understanding, “for what it’s worth, if I’m an Aldecado, it’s because you helped me get there. Pretty sure I woulda fallen apart in Night City without you.”

V paused, but saw Judy wasn’t convinced. “Not everybody needs to take on a Raffen camp solo or steal a tank to become a member of the family, Jude. If that were the case, the Aldecados would fade into dust. As a wise chica once told me, ‘it’s what you bring that counts.’” V began to stroke the top of Judy’s hand with her thumb, “You make it seem like you haven’t been THE go-to braindance techie of the camp.”

“Pssh, usin’ my gonk-ass words against me is cheating. Still though, I wanna help, if I can.”

“Of course, Jude, we’d all love to have you there.”

And just for a moment, the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria faded into the backs of their minds. The background of chattering Aldecados, the clinks of metal silverware and the distant shouting from the cooks were mere afterthoughts as they held each other’s presence. All they knew was each other.

But ever increasingly, Judy’s mind became more and more pre-occupied by the annoying tease of a foot brushing up and down her calf. And of course, V’s smirk showed she full-well knew what she was doing to her.

“Home?” Judy breathed, perhaps a little too desperately.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #judy alvarez #judy x v #female v #v x judy #AATW

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