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loveharlow · 9 months ago

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SEVEN - 008

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[12.2k] based on 1x09 and 1x10.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, extreme violence, mentions of child abuse, mentions/graphic depictions of rape/non-con, mild themes of ptsd, mentions of/allusions to death, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ and here is the season one finale of SEVEN :(, kinda sad but excited for season two. this is a long one so grab your takis 'cause this shit's gon be goooood (UDY reference, am i old?)

also this is not spell-checked :(

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AFTER FLEEING FROM THE AIRSTRIP, the four of you found temporary shelter in a junk lot some miles away. You camped there, for what had to be, at least an hour before you watched an unmistakable plane fly overhead.

“And there goes the gold.” JJ said disappointedly, throwing his arms out to the side. “Shit!” He yelled, kicking an already busted up lawn chair.

“Fuck!” Pope hollered, throwing hat so far that it clattered loudly against something out of sight. “God damn it!” He continued raving, picking up an old baseball and swinging at every object within his line of vision. The three of you stood back in shock, never seeing such a display of emotion from the boy.

At least not one this aggressive. He continued breaking and smashing and shattering before deciding to ditch the bat in favor of lifting a large tin trash can, throwing across the concrete.

“Pope!” Kiara called out, flinching. The boy just paced, hyperventilating before collapsing against a worn down bench. He had a look of distress on his face before bursting out into tears.

“I was wondering when this was gonna happen.” JJ spoke lowly, walking towards his friend while Kie looked aimlessly around at the even bigger mess he’d made of the junkyard. The blonde held out a weed pen in the curly-haired boy’s direction, shrugging a single shoulder. “A little weed never hurt anyone.”

“JJ.” Kiara reprimanded. “You know he doesn’t smoke.” Pope looked to the two and then to you, eyes asking for advice. You simply shrugged as if to say why not, watching him snatch the pen from JJ’s fingers.

“Well, maybe not until today.” The blonde taunted as Pope fiddled with the device, eyeing it for a few moments.

“What is that gonna help?” Kie criticized as he contemplated.

“...I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. It’s gone, it’s not gonna happen.” He told you three sadly.

“You did that for us?” Kiara asked him, face falling.

“No. Not for us.” He corrected, standing from his seat as you replaced his absence next to JJ, leaning your head on his shoulder. “For nothing.”

“Pope-”

“Just let it go, Kie.” You sighed, the girl turning to you. You hadn’t spoken much since you heard the gunshot in the woods, concerned for John B’s well-being and heartbroken about the gold, and everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. “He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The air around you all went silent, Pope taking a hit of the pen as Kiara silently judged him. You and JJ sat in silence, a comfort shared between the two of you, taking the feeling where you could get it. That was until you heard slow footsteps behind you, heads shooting up to find John B coming around the corner.

You launched yourself out of your seat, running into the boy and dragging him into a hug he didn’t return, the other three following suit. Releasing him, you all took immediate notice of the crimson color decorating his shirt and hands.

It looked half-dried, taking on a color resembling rust or dried tomatoes. It completely coated his hands, even the webs between his fingers.

“...Whose blood is that?”

“JOHN B, WHAT ARE WE DOING AT THE POLICE STATION?” JJ asked as Kiara pulled up next to the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station. It was night time now and the sun had set hours ago. John B had wasted sunlight explaining to the four of you what went down on the tarmac. According to your friend, Rafe had shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin while she was in the middle of arresting Ward Cameron.

“Somebody has to tell them what happened.” The boy in question replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, right before Pope broke out into a coughing fit, perfectly rolled joint still clutched between his fingers. He hadn't let up on the weed since taking his first hit at the junkyard.

“Easy there, Chief.” JJ advised from his place next to you in the trunk of the car, John B and Pope in the back seat while Kiara drove. Then the blonde’s attention was on John B. “I’m just gonna be real with you, right now. You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. You should never trust cops, no matter the circumstance.”

“He’s right, John B.” You pitched in. “You gave the compass to Peterkin and somehow it ended up with Ward. Who knows how many dirty cops are littering that station right now.”

“I agree.” Pope added in. “Fuck the police.”

“You’re going to the dark side now?” Kiara judged.

“When’s the last time the police helped us?” Pope argued back, leaning forward.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B finally spoke out after moments of silence, looking at all of you with pleading eyes. “Tried to, at least. They need to know.” He declared before giving you all one last parting look and leaving the car to go into the station and tell the precinct that the Sheriff was dead. And that Rafe Cameron had killed her.

“...How did we get here, you guys?” Kiara spoke, looking at no one in particular. She sounded sad and far away, hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Greed?” You offered, shrugging your shoulders. “A part of me regrets not leaving this alone the moment we found out the boat was Scooter’s and that he was dead. But once we found that compass, there was no stopping.”

“Well, I don’t regret any of it.” JJ piped up, leaning over the backseat, over Pope’s shoulder. “What’s this pity party y’all are throwin’? We found the fucking gold.” He laughed out triumphantly. “And yeah we got screwed but we’re gonna get it back.”

The three of you pondered on his words, more like the two of you considering Pope was getting higher than the Empire State Building. Maybe JJ had a point. But you couldn’t think too much longer when John B came barrelling back into the vehicle.

“Kie! Start the car!”

“What did you do?” She asked, fear written all across her face as she switched gears, two officers coming up on the vehicle and attempting to open John B’s door.

“Kie, just drive!” He commanded, the car speeding down the dirt path.

One of the deputy’s refused to admit defeat, running along the car with her hand still on the handle. “Pull over!” She shouted through the window, banging her free palm against the glass.

“Open it!” Pope ordered from John B’s side. JB looked side to side in confusion before doing as the intoxicated boy said, opening the door and effectively sending the deputy tumbling on her feet and leaving her behind as Kiara kept driving.

“What the hell was that?” You asked incredulously, looking out the back windshield as the two officers disappeared out of sight. But the boy didn’t answer, just looked straight ahead with his lips slightly parted. You reached over the seat, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, John B, what the hell was that?”

“...They think I killed Peterkin.”

IT WAS MORNING NOW AND THE FIVE OF YOU HAD BEEN RUNNING FROM THE COPS ALL NIGHT. There was nowhere for John B to go. The Chateau was no doubt flooded with cops, JJ’s house was just as unsafe, Pope’s parents were mad enough at their son as is, Kiara’s parents would shun him at the door, and you weren’t even sure if your home was your home anymore.

You all were camped out in Kiara’s car on the side of a windy road, camouflaged by the plethora of trees. The Kildare County AM Radio Show playing as you all sat in exhausted silence, seats reclined in uncomfortable positions as you all attempted to get some rest and hide from passing cars.

“...And good news for the residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to ninety-percent of the city, should be functional within the next twenty-four hours.”

The host exclaimed as you and JJ nearly jumped when police sirens were heard over the station, two police cars zooming down the road and right past the car you were all hiding in. You let out a breath of relief, letting yourself fall back into the seat.

“..And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-” The rest of whatever the radio host was going to say was cut off when Kiara turned the radio off entirely.

“...So, Yucatan it is?” JJ started the conversation.

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B cringed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just being realistic here. Who are the cops going to believe? Lord Cameron or us?” He spat out, irritated.

“Sarah will bail me out, okay? She’ll come through.”

“She did witness everything…” Kiara supported the brunette’s ideology. You just scoffed, yawning and rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes.

“If you two believe that Sarah will turn her dad or brother over to the cops, you are beyond delusional.” You threw out.

“Thank you.” Pope agreed.

“We gotta get you off the island.” JJ spoke his mind, sparking up a blunt and shifting to lean on his shoulder.

“The ferry’s his only option.” Pope informed.

“That's do-able, right? Dude, you gotta dip before the entire island’s on lockdown.” JJ told his best friend as you all ducked once more as three more police cars sped by, only rising slowly once the sound of sirens was gone.

“Look, Sarah’s not a Pogue, JB.” You offered the boy a reality check. “She’s not one of us and you can’t rely on her to save you. You gotta think about you.”

“SO, BAD NEWS.” Pope threw his hands out, looking around nervously while also trying to act normal as he walked back to the car. You all were parked at The Ferry dock with John B reclined fully inside the car to remain out of sight. “The Ferry’s closed and there’s this…” He spoke through the rolled down window from outside of the car, passing a paper inside for the rest of us to see.

“...Shit.” Kiara cursed, passing the paper back for the remaining three of you to see. JJ took it as you leaned over his shoulder, you being the only one in the trunk now since Pope took over driving and JJ moved to sit next to JB.

“Twenty-five thousand?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you read the ‘WANTED’ poster for John B. His picture and all listed on the sheet. JJ was quick to turn around a throw a palm over your mouth, instructing you to ‘shh’ before slowly removing the hand. “Sorry. But twenty-five thousand dollars on your head?” You directed at JB.

“Congrats, Bree. You’re famous.” JJ said sarcastically, annoyance seeping through his voice.

“So, the whole island’s looking for John B.” Pope sighed, drawing his lips into a thin line, getting into the driver's seat.

“Guys, we can get to the HMS Pogue. It’s small, no running lights-” Kiara started before JB cut her off, little emotion left in him.

“It’s at The Chateau, Kie.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the vehicle. “The cops are probably staked out at every corner.”

“JJ.” Pope perked up, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned around to face the blonde in the backseat. “Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom. The one he used to race.”

“Maybe.” The boy in question replied simply, face void of any emotion.

“Okay, then. We could get it up to the coast, no problem.” Pope said, turning back around and putting his hands on the wheel.

“It won’t be easy, Pope.” JJ advised. “I don’t even know where the keys are.”

“Well, find them.” The curly-haired boy spat out, jittering in the driver’s seat. “Why is nobody moving forward?” He motioned for the line of cars in front of him.

“Should he be driving?...” You threw the question out, noting his behavior and the amount of weed he’d consumed in the last couple of hours. “Pope, buddy, I don’t think you should be driving.”

“Kie.” John B craned his neck to look at the girl in the passenger seat. “Your car is on the poster.” Nobody could say anything before Pope started rapidly honking the horn.

“Hellooo? Can we move it?” He urged. “Come on!”

“Pope!” Kie tried to grab the male’s attention. “Don’t honk the horn! Jesus…”

“Mom, look! It’s that guy! Right there!” Some blonde little shit standing in the grass pointed at the car you were all hiding in, his squeaky voice traveling through the rolled down window. “We get twenty-five thousand if we find him!”

The kids excitement started to draw other civilians attention, the car soon surrounded by curious eyes. One man had the nerve to bang against one of the back windows, smiling as he pointed at John B’s flattened figure inside of the car. You banged back on the glass, startling the middle aged man before yelling at him to ‘back the fuck up’.

“We gotta go. Pope, turn the car on.” Kiara demanded. “Pope, turn the fucking car on!”

“I’m trying!” He protested, fighting with the ignition key. When he finally succeeded, the car flew forward, hitting the back bumper of the car in front of you all. You all shouted at the boy to back up but he just continued driving forward, pushing the car in front of him before swerving to the side and into the grass.

He managed to drive away from the scene and onto the main road, not getting far before he was swerving back into the grass, sending a mailbox flying into the air in pieces. The four of you gripped onto the seats and safety handles for dear life as Pope cheered in the driver’s seat.

“I am livin’ my best life right now!” He hollered with the biggest smile of his face, right before he hit another mailbox, the impact sending you all forward, your forehead coming into hard contact with the back of JJ’s head.

“Ow! Dammit! Pope, pull over!” You screeched from the back seat. He did as you said, bringing the SUV to a complete stop, making the car jerk. Kiara turned in the passenger seat to look at John B.

“You, get out.”

“What?” He looked bewildered at the suggestion.

“We’ll draw the cops while you run. Get out!” She commanded, John B turning to JJ as the blonde spoke quickly.

“I’ll get the boat and we’ll meet in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o’clock.”

“Yeah.” John B confirmed, nodding as he barrel-rolled out of the car, running through the field and into the woods.

“Three tomorrow at the dump!”

“YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” JJ piped up, getting out of the car with Pope as you and Kiara followed suit, the SUV that was parked on the side of Tannyhill, just out of sight. Kie had taken the wheel back after it was clear Pope was far too impaired to drive. It was nighttime once again, the chaos causing the hours to tick by.

“She’s the only one who can clear John B.” The brown-haired girl told him simply, getting ready to climb the fence with you next to her, flashlight in her hand with yours clutched between your teeth. “I have a plan.” She muttered, you all landing in the grass and marching through the yard.

“I can do a plan. Plan, plan. Can totally do a plan.” Pope spoke nonsense, the smile never leaving his face as Kiara turned around to face him, irritated and annoyed.

“Can you handle a plan, right now?’ She criticized.

“Of course.” Pope brushed off, dismissing the girl's concerns. “I’m Mister Plan-o-matic.” He assured before breaking out into a rap, a terribly bad, off-beat, and loud rap. You couldn’t contain your laughter, almost snorting at the random action before Kie shot you a look, wiping the smile off of your face as you tried to hold in the laughter.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” You lied, turning to Pope. “Pope.” You whisper-shouted in his direction. “Let’s…save the freestyle for later.” You suggested, a small smile on your face as he quieted down.

“This is a quiet plan.” She talked to him like a baby while you and JJ stood off to the side, watching as she put her pointer finger against his lips. “Okay?” She asked, receiving an absentminded nod from the male in response to which she retracted her finger slowly.

“...I love you, Kie.” Pope said when the girl moved her hand, both you and JJ’s jaw dropping simultaneously.

“What?” Was all the girl offered in response, sighing. Ouch.

“I’m in love with you.” The intoxicated boy clarified, JJ scratching his head and turning away while you stared at the flowers and trees like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You’re… wasted.” She dismissed his confession, disgust written all over her face as she turned around with the intention to keep walking before Pope pulled her back gently by the wrist.

“I know I’m wasted and that’s why I’m saying this now.” He tried again. “I really feel like this. I love you. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” She cut him off angrily. Pope look stunned, hurt.

“...I’m trying to tell you how I feel-”

“And that’s very sweet, but it’s not gonna happen.” She stated softly but firmly. In his incapacitated state, he took the rejection lightly, a small smile edging it’s way on his face as he scoffed.

“Okay, well, why not?” He asked. “Is it the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule? Because it doesn’t make sense and no one follows it–”

“Look, I want something different.” She blurted, throwing her shoulders up. “I wanna go to Anarctica, I want to ride camels-”

“And I want to do those things with you-”

“No, Pope, it’s not gonna work!” She told the boy, louder than intended as she looked around before looking at him. “It’s not gonna happen...” She said, finality in her voice as Pope’s face fully fell this time, the rejection settling in. Even from your place, several feet away, you could see the tears welling in the boy’s eyes.

“...We should probably get on with the plan now.” You broke up the interaction, figuring someone should step in and lead the group back on the right track. They both agreed, being the first two to walk off, leaving you and JJ stranded in silence.

“I had no idea he felt that way about her.” You said shocked, blinking rapidly. “I mean, I had a hunch but, man.”

“Girls never know when guys like them.” The blonde said from beside you, your face twisting. “Poor Pope.”

“That is so not true.” You disputed as you both started walking after the other two. “Guys are the most oblivious creatures ever.” You told him,

“You're literally a walking demonstration.” JJ threw out humorously, an immediate look of regret on his face.

“What does that mean?” You asked, looking at the boy curiously.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He waved you off, you both bickering quietly as you walked further into the yard.

Catching up to Kiara and Pope, the girl in question explained that JJ and Pope would create a distraction down in the yard so you and her could sneak up to Sarah’s window.

So, you were walking around the house you hadn’t visited in months while JJ and Pope were left behind, hopefully concocting a good enough plan to distract whoever else might be in the house.

“Hey,” Kiara whispered, pausing in front of you. “Do you think I was too harsh back there? With Pope?”

“Honestly?” You started, moving your mouth around before you spoke. “Kind of. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about him and I get your frustration with everything going but rejection hurts. No matter which way you say it. And he’s high, so it probably hurt a little more.” was your honest truth for the girl.

She simply nodded, looking down before the two of you quietly climbed the balcony stairs up to Sarah’s window. You both crouched out of sight in front of the window, the curtains drawn open allowing you to see the blonde girl’s reflection in her mirror.

Her room looked just the same as it did all those months ago. You didn't expect much to change, it was just an odd observation, you guessed.

Kiara knocked on the glass lightly, just enough to gain Sarah’s attention, the girl approaching the window with a smile before trying to open it and failing. The window wouldn’t budge, even when Kiara tried to help from the opposite side.

The curly-haired girl simply sighed before deciding to pull the wanted poster from her pocket, holding it up for Sarah to read. “Were you in on it?” Kiara asked, their voices still able to travel through the glass, slightly muffled.

“Did you think I was?” Sarah asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. Kie contemplated, shrugging as if to say ‘I don’t know’ before ultimately settling on her answer.

“No.” Then Sarah’s pitiful eyes were turning to you, eyes you tried desperately to avoid. She called your name, drawing your attention.

“...I’m sorry.” Was the first thing she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I believe you. About Rafe. I didn’t think he could do something like that and I was just protecting my brother. But he…he’s worse than I thought. I wasn’t a good friend to you then. But I’ll be a better one now.” She smiled smally.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your own eyes until one traveled down each cheek. You quickly wiped the evidence away before attempting to shrug nonchalantly. “...Thanks, I guess.” You mumbled, looking up at the girl through your lashes, smiles breaking out on both of your faces as Kie looked between you both with a motherly pout.

The moment was ruined when Ward’s voice boomed from inside the house, calling out for Sarah. The girl inside jumped, whispering for the both of you to go. The two of you did as she said, fleeing the back yard as fast as you could, trying not to trip down the balcony steps.

You both bolted through the backyard, making note of the smoke coming from the grill on the patio before hopping over the fence and heading straight for Kie’s car where Pope and JJ were already camped out and waiting. Jumping in, Kiara started the vehicle and sped off, hiding between the streets of Figure Eight.

“Did you idiots set the grill on fire?” Kiara asked as she drove down the dark streets, you and her up front while JJ and Pope rode in the back.

“No,” Pope drug out. “It was a pillow that I set on fire on top of the grill. I think I singed my hairline…”

The girl couldn’t help but sigh, turning onto a fairly empty street. You just stared ahead out of the windshield, remaining silent. “What’s wrong?” Kiara questioned you, looking between the side of your face and the road.

“Nothing, it’s just…I didn’t expect her to apologize.” You muttered, looking at your fingers while you played with your nails. You never thought you'd feel anything but hate for Sarah after what happened. But after all, you were a teenage girl — maybe all you ever wanted was a real apology.

“I thought you guys made up on the boat…” Pope slurred sadly, disappointed that his plan hadn’t actually worked.

“Okay, now that we’re like part-time fugitives and our futures are on the line, I feel like we should throw everything out into the open here, full transparency. Kie already told us why she hated her guts.” JJ suggested from the backseat, behind Kie. You looked back at him as he spoke. “What happened between you two?”

You looked to Kiara for confirmation, confused on when she gave the guys the scoop on her ��Sarah situation’. She just shrugged. “I told them a couple days after they left us on the boat. Figured it was over with so, why not.”

You let out a hum, taking a deep breath before turning back to JJ. “When I first moved to Figure Eight, I was going through a lot. It was right after my dad’s death, I was moving away from the only home I ever knew, and I didn’t fit in with the Kook kids. Kiara was my only friend on Figure Eight and she took me under her wing, even though I didn’t fully expect her to because she was in her own Kook bubble and hadn’t talked to us for weeks at that point.” You explained, leaning on the center console.

“Falling in with that crowd was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. Late night house parties, drunk driving, just… stupid rich kid shit. But Sarah, Kie, and I were like a trio of our own. Sarah had us over at Tannyhill almost every weekend, that's why we weren’t hanging out with you guys as much…One night, when we’re staying at Sarah’s, I was having trouble sleeping because of my nightmares, I had been for weeks at that point. Months. So, while Kie and Sarah were asleep, I went downstairs to get some water, clear my mind. But I wasn’t the only one awake. I ran into Rafe in the kitchen…”

The car was quiet, the only sound being the tires against the road and the wind whipping by considering the windows were halfway rolled down. “He was surprisingly…caring. Asked why I was awake, if I was okay, and offered to talk. He let me vent and cry to him for hours, something I thought I’d never do in a million years. And I think I just got caught in the comfort of it all and I kissed him. I pulled away right after and apologized but he said it was fine…and then he kissed me again. I knew it wrong and I’m sure he did, too. Not only was he the brother of one of my best friends but I was fifteen and he had just graduated. But that didn’t stop him from leading me up to his room and locking the door.”

“...You slept with Rafe?” JJ asked, hurt.

“For months.” You replied honestly and shamefully. “I never meant for it to go that far. I had no feelings for him and I made that clear. He was a coke head, a general asshole, and just not the kind of guy I would ever want a serious relationship with. We’d just sneak around and hook up. No strings attached, was what I told him. But I guess he still felt like he had some kind of… claim over me.” You explained. “The three of us were at some house party one night and Rafe showed up with Topper and Kelce. I was flirting with some guy and Rafe just got angry, stomped over to me and yanked me by the arm all the way out of the front door and into his truck.”

Your voice started to shake, no longer able to maintain eye contact with JJ. “He just started yelling, calling me all types of names and when I tried to get out of the car he grabbed me by the neck and basically flung me into the backseat. He rap-mmph...” You cringed at your own words, not able to say what you wanted. The idea of the word leaving your lips made your stomach turn. “...He took advantage of me that night, right in front of the house,even drove me home after like nothing happened, like I wasn’t shaking and crying in the passenger seat, watching the blood leak from between my thighs. That was the last time I had seen him, up until the golf course. I told Sarah the next day, that following morning. I felt like I should, I mean it was her brother but she was my friend on top of that. But she didn't believe me. She called me a liar, told me he would never go that far and that she knew I’d been sneaking around with him and that I was trying to turn the situation into something it wasn't. Next thing I know, Rafe is making me out to be the island slut and Sarah is right behind him, laughing at the rumors.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Pope broke the silence, sounding like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“If his own sister didn't believe me, I didn't think any of you would either. I didn't want to keep reliving it by telling you guys. I just wanted to forget any of it ever happened.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ shook his head angrily, looking out the window as he bit his lip, his right hand curled into a fist. “This is what I mean. Kooks get away with whatever the fuck they want-”

“JJ, it happened months ago-”

“So what?” He shot back, turning to you with tears in his waterline. “I don't care how long ago it was. You didn't deserve that. He raped you, he hurt you and he gets to walk around like nothing happened. How are you okay with that?”

“I’m not okay with it.” You told him firmly, voice watery and upset. “I will never be okay with it, JJ. But that’s just the way it is. I can't do anything to change it now. Believe me, I wish I could do more but I can’t. None of us can.” The car fell silent, JJ shaking his head and looking out of the window angrily. You pondered on what you said, wondering if you should've said anything at all until a pressing thought entered your mind. “Kie! Stop the car,” You commanded, the SUV screeching to a halt as she looked at you. “I need to make pit stop. And no, it can’t wait.”

“HERE. I HOPE IT’S COOL ENOUGH TO DRINK.” You handed the blonde mug of hot chocolate, the two of you sitting at a table in The Wreck, blankets draped over your shoulders with the sound of Kie and Pope’s snoring filling the silence. You’d drove around Figure Eight, police at every corner until the four of you decided to call it quits and camp out somewhere safe.

Well, not before you snuck back into your house and retrieved Marley, the dog taking up space in the backseat between the two boys, never giving JJ a break as she practically curled up in his lap the whole ride to The Wreck.

Surprisingly, The Wreck was the safest place at the moment. The sky was dark, the stars still visible through the plethora of windows that littered the small restaurant.

“I think you need it more than me.” He said, sliding the drink he’d requested over to you. You shook your head, pushing the mug back in his direction.

“Don’t do that.” You said exhaustedly. “Don’t start treating me differently because you know what happened. That’s the worst thing you could do.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You can look out for me by drinking that hot chocolate that I burned myself making.” You smiled tiredly, the blonde returning the gesture and taking the ceramic object between both hands, sipping slowly.

“Can I ask you somethin’ though?” He asked your permission, looking up at him through your lashes with tired eyes. You nodded, prompting him to continue. “I’m still lost on how you know Barry. I was gonna ask in the car but the conversation took a left…”

You sighed, hand coming up to palm the back of neck as you tugged the blanket closer to you, licking your lips. “Sometimes, when I’d ride around with Rafe, he would take me with him to buy coke. I don’t know why, he just would. I went into the trailer with him once, too hot to sit in the car. I guess Barry took one look at me and the bags under my eyes and wanted to reel himself in a new client. He offered me some pills. Something he’d made himself, a mix of Ambien and Xanax, said it’d help me sleep and so, I took it. Who knows if it was even safe…” You explained shamefully, shifting in your seat and looking back to make sure Kiara and Pope were still fast asleep.

“...I never had enough of my own money to keep buying it, so Rafe would buy it for me. That’s why Barry called me that stupid nickname, it’s what he would write down in his books. It got to a point where I felt like I needed the pills to even just take a nap when I wanted to or when I just wanted to feel good. It made me have less nightmares, feel less anxious throughout the day. But when I cut off Rafe, the drugs went with him. I walked around high for half of the summer and no one ever noticed.”

“...I can’t imagine that.”

“Neither can I, looking back on it. It’s not something I’m proud of but I’m better now.”

“You didn’t have to go through all of that alone. You could have come to us.” You just scoffed, leaning on the table as he traced the rim of his coffee mug.

“I didn’t even think you guys wanted to talk to me. Me and Kiara basically blew you guys for months for some Kooks who kicked us to the dirt.”

“And we took you back in when you came back. You’re a pogue. We’ll always be here, at least I will.” He chuckled, sipping more of his beverage.

“And I love you for that. Honestly.” The blonde’s blue eyes went wide at the beginning of your statement, as if he was about to spit out his drink until it calmed as you went on. You pondered on his initial reaction before deciding to let it go.

“...And I’m sorry. For not noticing. Someone should have. One of us should have, we’re your friends.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was my mistake, not yours.” You refuted his condolences, waving your hand dismissively. “Besides, our problems have gotten a lot bigger.”

“Who are you tellin’?” He chuckled under his breath, the two of your sharing a fit of sleepy laughter.

“...and J?” You perked up, laughing dying in your throat. He hummed in response. “If you could keep this between us… The Barry thing-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He interrupted you reassuringly, mimicking a zipper on his lips. “My lips are sealed. I promise you.” You simply nodded with a small smile on your lips as you curled up in the dining chair, cocooning yourself in the blanket. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach before you drifted off that you couldn’t quite place.

“AND THE MANHUNT FOR EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE CONTINUES after he allegedly shot and killed Sheriff Susan Peterkin on a private airstrip after a heated altercation. There have been multiple reported sightings of the boy in the Figure Eight area…” The news played from the small radio box as you all scattered around The Wreck, the sun casting an orange hue over the restaurant.

It was early the next morning and still no word from John B. You hoped he was okay and would still be able to follow through with the plan. You’d woken up on a bench inside of the restaurant, laid down and tucked in with pillow under your head. You couldn’t quite remember if you’d done that yourself.

“Is that gonna be enough food for them?” Kiara asked, grabbing edible items from the cabinets inside The Wreck as you and JJ bagged them.

“I mean, for a couple weeks that’s all they need, so…” JJ replied, eyeing the items inside of the paper bag.

“...I think I actually hurt his feelings.” She spoke despondently, referring to Pope. You and JJ grabbed the two wooden crates full of snacks and ready-to-eat meals and followed the girl through the back of the restaurant.

“Maybe he was too high to remember what happened.” You threw out, watching your step as to not fall with the large bin obstructing your view.

“I hate to admit it but I miss the old Pope. At least I knew what to expect from him-” She was cut off when Mrs. Carrera stormed towards her daughter, you and JJ stacking the crates into the trunk of the SUV.

“Where have you been?” The older woman demanded to know, throwing her arms out for them to land on her hips.

“I’m..fine. I slept here.” Kiara replied, perplexed as to what her mother’s issue could’ve been.

“Well, we were up half the night scared to death, lookin’ for you.” She told her child before looking past her and at you. “And your mother has been looking for you for days. When’s the last time you been home?” You simply didn’t reply, not wanting to disrespect Mrs. Carrera with the anger that surged at the mention of your mother. “Were you even gonna tell us where you were?”

“I’m telling you right now.” Kiara said simply, tucking her waves behind her ear.

“What the hell are you three up to?” She looked between the trio of you as you and JJ stood on either side of Kiara after loading the groceries into the trunk.

“Sorry, Miss Anna, but we have to go.” You told the older woman sadly. "Also, could you feed my dog? She's inside..." You requested sheepishly.

“Sorry…” Kie muttered, walking forward as you and JJ got into the car.

“No, absolutely not.” Mrs. Carrera blocked Kie’s path. “Have you heard what’s going on? Have you seen the storm that coming? This is not safe, Kiara!” She told her daughter as if she was crazy.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go…” Kie’s voice wavered as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat next to you with JJ in the back.

“These cops are armed, Kiara. They will shoot you, I am not letting you do this!”

“Mom, John B needs me!” She shouted, pointing at herself and shutting the door. “I understand, I’ll be careful!” She continued through the glass. Her mom never stopped, begging for her daughter to get out of the car and go with the safer option. Kie just apologized over and over, switching gears and driving away.

THE SUV PULLED TO A STOP IN FRONT OF THE MAYBANK RESIDENCE. You turned around to face JJ from your place in the passenger seat.

“Home sweet home.” He proclaimed sadly, his eyes teary and face red. You couldn’t help but pout, watching as he pushed the car door open and got out. Seconds later, you followed suit — unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out. “What’re you doin’?” The blonde questioned you as you dusted yourself off.

You just shrugged and looked at him, jutting your bottom lip out. “I’m going with you.” He was quick to shake his head, his hands on both your shoulders as he pushed you back towards the car.

“No, no, no. No, you’re not.” He refused your assistance. “Get back in the car.”

You simply brushed his hands off of your shoulders, walking past him. “No. C’mon-” Suddenly, you were being pulled back by your wrist, facing the boy once more.

“I’m not lettin’ you go in there. It will only take a second, just get back in the car, please.” He was pleading with you but his eyes wouldn’t work this time.

“It only took him a second to do what he did to you.” You refuted, pulling your wrist out of his grasp gently. “So, I’m going with you. And we don’t have time to argue because we need to meet John B.” Was all you said before turning around and continuing to walk towards the front door of the house.

You told him he’d never be alone with his father again and you meant it. The blonde reluctantly followed behind you, his heavy boots not making his appearance known for once as you both tip-toed into the house, the door creaking as you did.

The floor stuck to the soles of your shoes as you both crept into the house. It was a mess — flies buzzing around the dishes piled in the sink, shoes far too large to be JJ’s scattered across the floor, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingering in the air.

JJ immediately spotted his father, sprawled out on the couch and snoring loudly, a half-drunken bottle of whiskey behind him. His son walked over to him slowly, eyeing his father with caution.

“...Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” He spoke to his father’s sleeping figure as you stood feet away, watching the interaction happen. The older man didn’t wake up, his snoring fit just getting louder. “Dad?’ He tried again to no avail, eyebrows twisting as noticed the male’s unusually deep slumber.

He looked around, blue eyes landing on an empty pill bottle on the coffee table.

“What is it?” You asked from your place a few feet away.

“...Ambien.” He said despondently, a undertone of anger seeping through. Neither of you said anything else about it, JJ putting the pill bottle back down and turning back to his father, spotting the keys dangling from the chain around his neck.

Grabbing a pencil and an exact-o knife, he knelt next to the middle-aged man, gulping harshly as he did so. You could see the fear bubbling within him, whether it was the tears in his eyes or the way his hands shook. Luke’s eyed edged open just as JJ was lowering the tools, the boy freezing in place.

“...I didn’t expect to see you.” Luke rasped, you immediately put one foot forward in case something were to happen. But he seemed calm. Tamed… “School out already?” He questioned, the first thing the man reached for in post-sleep daze being the open beer on the coffee table.

JJ’s face twisted in on itself, his fearful teary eyes filling with confusion. “What?”

“Did you ditch?” His father coughed, JJ’s blue eyes quickly fleeting in your direction for some kind of reassurance. Security. “You can tell me if you did.” The older man smiled drunkenly, laughing. JJ’s expression softened in the slightest and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as he replied.

“Yeah… yeah, I did. Hit the break, y’know.” He shrugged, feigning carelessness. Luke just laughed, struggling to stand from the couch in his disorientation.

“I hated school, too. My boy!” He cheered, slapping a wobbly hand on JJ’s shoulder in congratulations and in order to stabilize himself most likely. Your hand clutched the doorframe, biting the inside of your lip now knowing how quickly the older man’s switch could flip. “Look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes…But sometimes, I-I see your mother in you and it gets me a little tweaked, y’know?”

All JJ could do was stare down at his feet, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to will the tears brewing in his eyes to subside. “You’re a good boy.” Luke proclaimed, smiling at his son. You didn’t know if he was drunk or possibly having a moment of clarity. “And I love you, son.” He told JJ, pulling the blonde into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

JJ’s eyes met your own over his father’s shoulder — blue eyes surrounded by trails of red, tears making his pupils shine. What bothered you the most was the fact that he didn’t blink. For the entirety of the hug, which was long enough, JJ didn’t blink, not once. You could only wonder what was going through his head.

“...Love you, too, Dad.” He said, strained. But his expression remained all the same. But his voice made it seem as if the words he spoke brought him physical pain. Luke’s arms fell as the delirious man practically collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness once again. JJ’s face was flushed, tears trails shining as he yanked the dog tag with the keys from around his father’s neck and took swift steps in your direction, attempting to brush past you and leave the house until you gripped his upper arm.

“JJ-”

“This?” He cut you off harshly, whipping his head in your direction as he sniffled his feelings away. “This is why I wanted you to stay in the car.” He said, expression softening as he gently pulled himself out your grip and left the house.

“THERE SHE BE…” JJ gawked as he pushed open the garage door, revealing a large, pristine boat in the middle of the room. He was in a significantly brighter mood since you’d left his house, you refusing to let him wallow in his mild-anger towards you and riding in the backseat with him. You were surprised when he let you take hold of his balled fists, whispering your apology into his ear as he simply nodded and hummed. You didn’t miss the way Kiara kept glancing at you both through the rearview mirror.

“The Phantom.” He bragged, dragging his hands against the exterior as you and Kie stood by, letting him ramble and gloat. He needed something good right now. “A 1983 Formula 402 SR1 — the first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under sixteen hours.”

“...It’s kind of a junker.” Kiara said unimpressed, staring blankly at the blonde.

“Really? She’s right there, Kie.” JJ reprimanded. “She can hear you. You would not be smokin’ weed right now if she never existed.”

“Let’s just hope she runs.” You butted in, leaning against the boat, not too far from JJ.

“She’ll run alright.” JJ spoke in confidence, winding up a wire under the boat. Tires screeched against the concrete outside and Kiara threw her hands up in the air.

“That’s Pope. Finally!” She cheered, skipping towards the garage exit when Rafe’s frame rounded the corner, your back straightening and eyes going wide as you both locked eyes.

“Hey there,” The boy breathed out, taking steps closer as Kiara retreated slowly, her hands balled into nervous fists. “What’s goin’ on? How you guys doin’?” Then a wolf-whistle was heard from behind you, the three of you whipping your gazes around to find Barry entering the garage, his signature smirk adorning his features.

“Well, well…” He drawled, getting closer to JJ until he was close to pull a gun on him. A small gasp leaving your lips as JJ threw his hands up and Rafe made his way right next to Barry. “See, don’t think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I’m here because I want… my mothafuckin’ money!” He yelled before kneeing JJ in the abdomen, making the blonde curl in on himself.

“Barry!” You protested, immediately grabbing JJ and attempting to push the drug dealer away with your free hand. It was to no avail, however, when two strong arms wound around your waist and picked you up from behind. And unless Kiara had suddenly hit the gym, you knew exactly who it was and that knowledge sent you into a frenzy. “Get your fucking hands off me, Rafe!”

You kicked wildly as the boy drug you farther and farther away, watching helplessly as Barry beat on JJ and Kiara laid on the garage floor, holding her now visibly bruised knee.

“It’s not you we want, sunshine.” Rafe assured, setting you to your feet in a corner and gripping your shoulders. “Where’s John B?”

“I’m not telling you shit!” You spat nastily, pushing the man away from you with all the strength you could collect.

“I really wish you didn’t do that…” He spoke menacingly.

“I don’t care.” You spoke, voice wavering as you struggled to get your eyes to leave his. But you felt as if you needed to watch his every move — the ways his fingers twitched, the way his eyes squinted, the vein that was popping on his forehead. “I know what you did.” You provoked. “You killed Peterkin.”

You don’t know exactly what you were hoping to achieve by saying it but you instantly regretting when you saw the way his face morphed — the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, the clench of his jaw. So hard it made his head shake in the slightest of motions before his hand went around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say those fucking words again.” Your hands grabbed his forearm as you gasped for air, the sounds of Barry kicking JJ and Kiara yelling out becoming muffled audio in your ears. “You got that?” He questioned, your own eyes drifting to the figure appearing behind him holding a weapon up. “You got that?!” The Cameron boy shook you before yelling out in pain as Pope hit him in the back of his knees with what seemed to be a metal pipe.

Rafe’s grip on your throat fell as he did, bent over in pain as Pope struck him again, the metal clanking against his bones. You fought for air to enter your lungs as you watched the boys fight, wondering where Pope learned such coordination as he dodged blow after blow from Rafe before delivering a plethora of his own.

Your attention was stolen when you saw JJ punishing Barry, wondering when he’d gotten the upper hand as a soft hand on your back made you flinch, turning to see Kie. “Are you okay?” She asked, eyes swimming with worry as you nodded. At some point, JJ had managed to incapacitate Barry, leaving the drug dealer on the ground as Rafe and Pope continued to fight.

Truthfully, the fight between them had ended once Pope delivered a nasty blow to Rafe’s temple, rendering the boy disoriented and open for Pope to continue his assault.

“Pope, that’s enough!” Kie yelled, standing back as Pope ignored her. He hit Rafe in his stomach, then his chest, then his face, sending his body spinning away from the boy.

“Pope!” Kiara tried again.

Rafe was drooling blood, eyes spinning wildly as Pope grabbed a leather rope, wounding the object around the Cameron boy’s neck and pulling tight. Kiara pleaded with Pope to stop, said that he was going too far. But you stood there, not saying anything — eyes focused on the way Rafe choked on his own blood, the way his hands clawed as the machine underneath him, the way his own eyes drifted to yours and seemed to plead for help.

The same yours did all the those months ago.

And in that moment, you started to wonder if you had ever truly gotten over what happened. Or if you ever would. Because, in that moment, you wanted Pope to kill Rafe. And you wanted to watch him do it.

JJ managed to get a hold on Pope, the dark-skinned boy meeting Kie’s eyes and deciding to drop the rope, leaving a heaving Rafe beaten and bloodied on the garage floor. You started to come out of your own haze, eyeing Pope as he looked down at Rafe in terror of what he’d done. What he could’ve done.

“We… we gotta go.” Kiara stuttered, eyes fleeting between the three of you stood starstruck as Rafe rolled around. She wasted little time in walking back to her SUV, her legs carrying her there as she wobbled from side to side. You and JJ stood back as you watched Pope’s anger rebuild, your friend leaning over the bloody boy and talking lowly.

“Stay off The Cut.” He warned. “We don’t want you on this side of the island. Any of you.” He threw his words back at him, the same words Rafe had spat at you that day on the Golf Course.

“DUDE, WHERE IS HE?” Kiara said, a tone of annoyance in her words. We’d arrived at the meeting spot right on time, but John B was no where to be seen. Pope had calmed down significantly since the incident at the garage but you hadn’t spoken since then. The moment playing over and over again in your head. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“He’ll be here. Just give him a second.” Pope assured the girl, spots of Rafe’s blood staining his shirt. Police sirens wailed as a squad car pulled up behind you three, lights flashing as they came to a stop. You all tried to remain calm as you anticipated what the police could want now while also praying that John B didn’t pull up just as they’d arrived.

All of your worries went with the wind when John B hopped out of the driver’s side, cutting off the lights and sirens and pulling a backpack up on his shoulders with a semi-solemn look on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” JJ smiled from his place behind the wheel of The Phantom.

“Shoupe let me take it for a spin.” John B smiled smally, flipping his curls out of his face as he edged closer to the four of you. Kiara was the first to give him a hug, embracing the boy with a giggle as JJ spoke.

“It wasn’t easy, bro, but I got The Phantom for you.” He said triumphantly, holding up the keys between his fingers and tossing them to John B who caught them between his palms. “You ready to go?” The blonde asked, standing on top of the boat as you all watched John B’s face fall.

“...Where’s Sarah?”

Kiara looked around, lips pursed in confusion before she spoke. “She’s not with you?”

“No, no, we got separated in the swamp, she said she was gonna meet me here.” JB panicked, eyes fleeting to the trees surrounding the four of you as if she would appear from between them. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“John B, “ JJ started, kneeling to level his eyes with his best friend’s. “I know you feel bad for leaving but there’s no time, dude.” John B simply clenched his jaw and looked away. “You’ve got plenty of gas, plenty of food. Once you get around that point, it’s a straight shot across the sound to Dismal Swamp, alright? Once you get there, lay low. Hang out for a couple weeks and then go overland, cross the border at Brownsville, you got that? Brownsville.” JJ detailed, hand now firm on JB’s shoulder.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” He spoke, staring out into the distance. Snapping back, he got onto the boat as JJ hopped off. It was only then you realized that you’d been standing in the same spot when the three of them — Kiara, Pope, and JJ, had their hands on the rails ready to push the boat into the water.

“Guys?” John B gathered all of your attention. Hands gripping his backpack straps for dear life as his eyes watered. “I’m sorry for basically…throwing us off a cliff with this whole treasure hunt thing.” His voice cracked, the sound snapping you out of your stupor as you felt your face fall. In all of your years of knowing John B, being his friend, being his sister, basically — you’d never heard him so remorseful. So defeated. Not until his dad died and only again at this very moment.

Something willed you to move, carrying your feet closer to your four friends until you were close enough to grab onto the boat rails and haul yourself up next to John B, stabilizing yourself and throwing yourself onto him in a hug that took him a moment to return. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you buried your face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Was the first thing you could think to say, the Routledge boy chuckling sadly in your ear.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about yours.” He returned, patting you on the back. You pulled back from the hug, hands still on his upper arms.

“I’ll finish this.” You nodded sadly, biting your bottom lip as small tears ran down your cheeks. “For the both of us.” John B didn’t say anything, just nodded sadly as well, a pitiful smile on his face. “Stay safe, Bree.” You said in farewell, squeezing his arm and turning away to get off the boat, joining the other three behind the rails.

“Forget all this sad shit, bro.” JJ sniffed, throwing his arms over all three of your shoulders and looking up at John b. “Everything that happened? We did it together, man. Pogue style.” John B laughed breathlessly, eyeing the four of your gratefully, almost like he was trying to commit your faces to memory.

“Pogue style.” He sighed back.

“Now, get out of here! Please…” Kiara rushed.

“Yeah, we’ll see you down in Mexico.” Pope pointed, a sad look swimming in his eyes despite his tone.

“Love you.” JJ left the words with his best friend, John B returning the gesture before pausing his walk to the cockpit of the boat.

“...Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?” He choked out, the four of you nodding in agreement. He gave you all a grateful nod before settling into the boat, the rest of you putting in effort you push the boat into the water as the sound of the engine starting up echoed throughout the trees.

You could see the way John B purposefully avoided all of your eyes as he sped off, the boat getting smaller which each passing second as you said goodbye to your friend.

Once he was out of sight, Pope was the first to turn around, coming face to face with Kiara as you and JJ walked out, their conversation still able to heard.

“You okay?” Kie inquired.

“...I’m sorry for…acting like a dumbass. I was just upset.” He stammered, you and JJ leaning on the car and being nosey. “And I was being petty and-”

“It’s okay.” Kie breathed out, shaking her head.

“I just wanna be friends again.” Pope admitted, tone exhausted and shoulders dropping as thunder rumbled, the sky darkening within seconds. Kie stood there, looking at Pope’s outstretched hand. But she never shook it. Instead, edging forward and embracing the boy into a hug. Pulling back from the exchange, you didn’t expect her to go in again, this time for a kiss.

You and JJ exchanged looks, you were sure you looked confused but you couldn’t quite read JJ’s expression. Nothing was detectable from his dilated pupils or the way his eyes kept flickering between yours and your lips. And for a brief moment, you found yourself wanting to kiss him. But the thought made your stomach turn so wildly that you had no choice but to look away.

You were just vulnerable right now, you thought to yourself.

Police sirens appeared out of nowhere, somewhere between three and four squad cars surround the four of you from all angles. Your hands went up as Shoupe and a dozen other officers and FBI agents exited the vehicles, half of them with guns drawn.

“We’re too late, goddamnit!” Shoupe reprimanded himself. “Bratcher, tell your men to stand down.” He directed at the brown skinned man with an FBI jacket on, the man in question motioning for the remaining agents to lower their weapons. “Let me talk to these kids.” Shoupe shook his head defeatedly, approaching you all with hands on his hips. “Alright, where the hell is he?” None of you responded. “Where the hell is he?!”

Still no response. You guessed his next tactic was to try and interrogate you all one by one. “JJ? I see you’re livin’ up to your name.” The blonde simply huffed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he stared straight ahead. “Pope, how ‘bout you?” He tried again. “This isn’t a fuckin’ game! You can do the right thing, right now. Where’d he go?” He yelled in the boys face. Typical, unmedicated Pope would’ve caved under this kind of pressure. But you think the marijuana had left imprint on him somehow as he stood, perfectly composed.

The four of you stood, wordlessly and stoic. If Shoupe wanted to find John B, he’d have to do it his damn self.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN A WHILE AGO. Shoupe had detained the four of you, taking you all to the tent his team and the FBI had set up to overlook to water surrounding the Outer Banks — the lighthouse providing the best outlook, they were just waiting for Dominion Power to restore the power to the city. But you were praying John B had gotten away already, or that he would before that inevitably happened.

The environment gave you a headache — the flood lights, the police lights, the constant ringing of phones, the news vans outside trying desperately to get a word out of you and your friends. But you all remained silent — no word on John B, Sarah, or their whereabouts.

You were all in direct earshot of the conference table. Hearing dozens of law enforcement agents talk about John B like some internationally wanted serial killer was disheartening. It made you angry.

“Do you think he made it by now?” You whispered in JJ’s direction, the blonde sat on your right with Kie and Pope to your left. Your leg was bouncing nervously against the ground, your fingers fiddling with each other in your lap. JJ’s blue eyes fleeted between your leg and hands before planting a warm hand on your thigh.

“I hope so. But something tells me he went to find her first.” He spoke honestly.

“Her?” You asked, your mind blanking from the stress.

“Sarah.” He replied simply, you nodding and drawing your lips into a thin line. The two of you sat like that for the next few passing moments — in oddly comfortable yet tense silence, JJ’s thumbs absentmindedly drawing circles into your thigh.

The FBI agent that Shoupe had called in had his entire crew on standby, his eyes laser focused on the waters in front of him. It was too dark to see anything beyond a few miles radius, but it still made your heart jump just thinking of the possibility that John B could be out there.

“We need eyes on the other side of The Point.” He snapped at the agent next to him, the man passing on the order. It didn’t seem like a routine command. It was urgent, like he saw something.

You felt a frantic hand shaking your thigh, directing your sights back to JJ whose eyes were focus on everything you all. “Shit. Look,” He jutted his head in the direction of an open end of the tent, bringing your attention to the lights turning back on throughout the island. Section by section until the island was lit up like a Christmas Tree.

And it seemed like any prayers you’d made all those hours ago never made it up to the man in charge as the one light you hoped would never work again lit up the sea in front of you — The Lighthouse giving every person around you a clear view of the boat you’d all said farewell too just hours prior.

“That’s them!” Some random deputy yelled out. “There they are!” He pointed, John B and Sarah’s figures, outlined like two deer in headlights as The Phantom waded aimlessly in the water, people crowding around the edge of the grass to see them like some kind of tourist attraction.

The bald man at the head of this operation now, taking over Shoupe, called in his radio immediately. “Bogey spotted off the lighthouse, running lights out. I think it’s them…”

You didn’t think your heart could drop so far, the feeling cause you to almost dry heave as you gripped JJ’s hand, that was still on your thigh, for dear life. Siren wailed across the waves as two coast guard boats revved up, heading in the direction of The Phantom. Right on time for John B and Sarah to start the engine and speed away, out of the lighthouse’s direct spotlight. But they were still visible.

Journalists, news anchors, and conspiracy theorists all rushed as if they could run after the boat, watching the chase take place. The crowd formed within your line of vision, making you no longer able to see what was going on. You silently thanked God for it, you weren’t sure if this was going to go as planned anymore.

And you knew this only ended in one of two ways — with John B in jail for life or with the four of you seated right now at another funeral.

You’d forgotten all about the oncoming storm, and all sorts of terrible thoughts filled your mind. Kiara got up from her seat as Pope called her name, the girl attempting to push people out of the way.

“I can’t see. What’s going on? Excuse me. Move out of the way!” She tried, the crowd just regenerating every time. Pope put a hand on her shoulder, turning the girl to face him with tears in her eyes. “We don’t know what’s happening, Pope! Don’t you care about what’s happening?!”

He just nodded, pulling the hysteric girl into him, letting her cry silently on his shoulder. You and JJ just sat in silence, hand in hand. You felt the tears running but didn’t care to wipe them. No version of this scenario played out in your favor. And though you’d never give up John B, what else was there left to do?

The thunder clapped harder and brighter, the ground beneath you trembling in the smallest of motions. The radio on the center of the conference table carrying a digital voice throughout the tent.

“Suspect is attempting to escape south. Our attempts to contact the vessel were unsuccessful. We’re gettin’ hammered here.” The man on the other end of the radio warned, probably hoping his supervisor would tell him to end it, to turn around and let them go. You could only imagine the disappointment when the lead FBI agent spoke back.

“...Hold your position, Captain. I think I’ve got one more card we can play.”

A sigh came through the radio. “Roger that.”

You couldn’t help sigh yourself, the sound coming out strained and shaky as you closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand tighter. You shook your head side to side, hoping the tears would go away.

“Hey,” An all too familiar voice came from beside you, opening your eyes to find JJ staring back with tears just waiting to fall. “It’ll be okay-”

“Don’t.” You cut him off immediately, shaking your head and biting your lip. “We both know that’s a lie so please don’t lie to me right now. It’ll just make it a lot harder when…”

“When what?”

“They’re driving them right into the storm, JJ.” You reminded, angrily. But the anger wasn’t directed at him. “We all know what’s bound to happen.” But JJ’s eyes were now stuck where yours had been just seconds prior, following his gaze to find Ward Cameron at the head of the transmitter now, microphone in hand as the FBI agent stood next to him.

You watched as his thumb hit the button on the side. “...John B?” He called, hand shaking as he did so. God, this man was an actor. Putting on the performance of a lifetime. “I know you’re there, son. I know you can hear me.” The audacity, you thought. The audacity of Ward to refer to John B as son, knowing what he’s done. It made you sick. “If you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive.” He reprimanded.

The words made you wince, more tears falling from your eyes. A mix of premature grief and overwhelming infuriation. This man, this killer, had a team of law enforcement agents behind him while he framed a teenager for murder right before their eyes.

“John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Silence. The entire tent was filled with tense, consuming silence. One part of you wanted John B to remain silent. But the other wanted him to speak, just in case this was the last time you’d ever hear his voice.

“...Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” The static crackled, all four of your ears perking up.

“Yes.” Ward straightened in his seat, feigning relief. “Yes, son, I’m right here.”

“...You killed my father, you killed Owen Carter, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit!” John B’s voice bellowed clearly. “You took everything from me!” He cried, the sadness in his voice seeping through the radio. “But I’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.” JB threatened, Ward going rigid in his place. His eyes were wide and anticipating, hand shaking as he seemed to be deep in thought and rage.

“...So, you listen to me, all right?” John B continued. “I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming. For you.” The entire space was filled with that gut-wrenching silence again. Ward had nothing left to say. To these strangers, he probably portrayed as a sullen father who’d just lost his daughter.

But to you, he was manipulative killer who got his kids involved in his world of crime. And sure, maybe he regretted it. But none of you were looking for regret. Besides, if Sarah can’t forgive her own father. If she can’t find some reasoning or justification for his actions, why should any of you?

One deputy broke the silence. “We’ve lost their radio signal, sir…”. Shoupe was quick to comfort his long-time friend, removing the radio from his hand and speaking into the intercom.

“Those are kids out there. Don’t stop lookin’.” He commanded his team. Now he cared about them being kids? Not when he was right there, driving them into the storm? He planted a steady hand on Ward’s shoulder, leaning down to his ear. “You stay right here. We’re gonna needa talk to you…”

ALMOST AN HOUR WENT BY before the team started to pack up. The table in front of you all was now gone and everyone had cleared out. Apparently, the four of you had to wait until your parents showed to take you home and claim custody, which was a whole ‘nother nightmare in itself. Kie’s eyes were still puffy from crying but now she just remained with a permanent frown on her face and Pope had been running a hand through his hair for the past half hour, trying not to lose it.

You couldn’t really place how you and JJ felt. For once, you didn’t know. It felt you’d both just lost a brother.

“We got Search ‘n Rescue on standby.”

“Any response?”

“They’re not calling it off yet…”

Officers chattered mindlessly, paying no mind to the catatonic teens staring out at nothing in front of them. Shoupe came into the tent wearing a weatherproof yellow jacket, two men trailing behind him in identical attire. The four of you stood swiftly, waiting for the Deputy- Sheriff, to speak.

“Did you find them?” Pope urged, almost pressing the man. Shoupe gritted his teeth, shaking his head side to side in response.

“...No.”

“So, they got away?” Kiara spoke optimistically, her tone rising more than it had in the last couple hours. Shoupe swallowed, avoiding all of your eyes. And somehow, you just knew.

“We, uh…we lost them.” He said firmly, holding back his own emotions. How does a man go from wanting nothing more to find a “fugitive”, dead or alive, to seeming remorseful that said teen was now gone. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, voice small, strained, but still furious. “That’s all you have to say yourself? Is that you’re sorry?” You took a step closer, voice trembling dangerously as a hand latched around your wrist — JJ.

He directed his gaze to Shoupe. “What do you mean you lost them?”

Shoupe sighed, raking a hand down his face. “They took an open boat into a tropical depression.” He retorted professionally.”

“...So, they’re dead?” You asked tearfully, fists balled painfully at your sides. Shoupe eyed you pitifully.

“We…don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but snatch your wrist out of JJ’s hold, taking steps forward until you were just inches away from the Sheriff’s face. “Whatever happened to them,” You started, anger consuming your words. “It’s all. On. You.” You said, enunciating each word with a finger to his chest, no matter how watery your voice sounded. “Do you understand that?!” You voice rose as you shoved the officer.

The two men on his side grabbed you and pulled away just as Pope’s voice rang out. “He didn’t kill anyone and you know it!” One of the men turning his attention to Pope, holding him back. Then JJ was lashing out, Kie’s face morphing as she started crying again.

Two figures ran into the tent, Kie’s parents. She let out a sob as she ran and embraced her mother, the remaining three of you calming down. The officer let Pope go as his mother approached him, pulling him down as his dad trailed in right after her.

Pope broke down in his mother’s embraced as he grabbed at her back as if he was falling. Heyward set a fatherly hand on JJ’s shoulder, the blonde heaving as he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” Pope cried as Heyward joined the hug.

You heart didn’t drop when you saw your own mother standing at the entrance to the tent, raincoat on with the hood over her head as your eyes connected. You didn’t cry or smile or run to her. You just stared at her with every ounce of disappointment, anger, and hate you’d ever felt in your entire life.

And when Heyward broke the group hug to let JJ into the family hug between Pope and his parents, your eyes drifted to Kiara and her parents, who were looking at you. You wondered if they knew, but then you assumed that that was a crazy idea. Her parents were more your father’s friends than they ever were hers.

When your eyes went to find your mother, she was gone. And you accepted the invitation of comfort from the Carrera’s, letting tears flow freely and sobs leave your chest.

Maybe JJ was right.

Kooks versus Pogues?

They always, always win.

next chapter>

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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#SoundCloud #jj maybank x reader #svn #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #obx jj #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst

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angelcakestarlet · 10 months ago

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salvatore part 3.0

richie jerimovich x reader

warnings: age gap, cheating (eventually) (guys it's for the plot i swear), drugs mentioned, swearing.

guys this part is gonna be divided into two bc it didn't fit into one post :< they've been posted at the same time, u can find part 3.5 on my acc! thanks 4 all the love cuties <3

most people would call richie an asshole, it was just his nature y'know? how he walked around with that smirk you couldn't wipe off his face, fucking with cousin, trying to 'man the ship' and take control with his abrasive voice and attitude. after you got hired at the beef though, everyone wondered to what extent of an asshole richie really was. carmy and tina were on his ass the most, gifting him a quick smack on the shoulder or upside the head whenever they caught him staring at you, eyes trailing you out the door. they knew he could be an asshole, obviously, but they wondered if he was really the type of guy to take one look at your gleaming eyes and full cheeks and not be able to help himself. everyone in the kitchen called you 'baby', there was no avoiding how obviously young you were. richie knew, of course he knew, the way you looked up at him through your long lashes. the bags under your eyes nowhere near as dark and deep as his or carmy's. you were achingly sweet, and it killed him. when you smiled at him, bidding him his daily 'good morning, richie!' he felt his teeth rot in his mouth. like he wanted to store you away in his pocket and never let anyone ruin that sparkle you held behind your eyes. yet at the same time, if it was up to him, he could be the one to do it. a reminder he felt every time he played with the ring on his left hand. god, he could ruin your life if you let him. it's not like actively wanted to, but whenever he caught a glimpse of the sun hitting your soft skin he felt something intangible. so when you came up behind the alley and sat next to him on your first day, and he saw the way your glossed lips wrapped around his cigarette he knew he couldn't help himself, he wouldn't. he saw it that day, a part of you is sick enough to want this too. from that point on, you play along. his sweet names for you, soft touches, like he wanted to guide you, teach you.

"tell baby she can't be ringing in the orders all at once, cousin!" carmy yelled over at richie through the expo. "well maybe if you picked up the pace, did the damn system the way it's meant to be done you'd get it done, cousin." richie yells back rolling his eyes, he was being stubborn about all of carmen's new 'rules'. "just tell her, asshole!". richie threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen to find you ringing in orders on the new tablet that only you can seem to figure out. he comes up beside you, gently pulling your hand off the screen. you turn, recognizing richie's strong cigarette and minty aroma. "cousin's being a little bitch so i'm just gonna need you to slow down on ringing in orders. alright, sweetheart?" he nods his head towards you. "oh shit, i'm sorry richie i forgot you guys were short staffed today! if you want i can help back there-" richie chuckles at you stumbling over your words. "no no, don't worry about it, doll. you keep your pretty little self up here-" he grabs your shoulders facing you back towards your tables, "and let me worry about what's going on back there". you let out a small laugh and agree, feeling his big hands gripping your shoulders. "keep raking in those tips, baby!" he yells back as he makes his way back into the kitchen. "yo, you told her, cousin?" carmy questions as richie walks back into the hectic kitchen. "yeah fuck off, she's doing great out there. that face brings in the big bucks man" sydney throws her head back at his words, "richie you can't be saying that! i think even the way you look at her is an HR violation." "syd, fuck off, i am HR" he responds with a cocky tone making sydney roll her eyes.

it was a few days after the day of the game, and the little show richie put on to protect you from some drunk asshole. he had laughed to himself the entire way home, imagining your 'boyfriend' picking you up that night. and every night after work as a matter of fact. how you'd go home to him and lay in bed thinking about richie. his hands, the scruff on his face, the shadow his figure casted over you when he stood behind you, the way his gaze imprinted on you, and the way his voice changed when directed towards you. richie could always clock the want in your eyes, almost like you would surrender yourself to whatever would fall from his mouth. finding out about your boyfriend just confirmed his suspicions; you were just the type of girl who's looking for someone to take good care of her.

it was the following friday night after a particularly stressful shift at the beef (when wasn't it) and tina had rounded everyone up, convincing everyone to head to the bar. "ugh, but tina i'm all sweaty" you frowned, always wanting to head out looking your best. "baby throw on a dress and some lipstick and i promise you'll look just fine, mija." she came up to you, reaching up to flatten your fly aways with her small hands. "plus who you trying to look good for anyways, richie?" she laughed but then quickly noticed your red face and paused. "what?" you asked slowly with a nervous tinge. "don't tell me you got the hots for richie, girl." she looked at you, eyebrows as crinkled as ever. after your lack of response she let out a long sig, "ay no, niña. i love that boy, i really do but he is bad news. plus baby he's too old for you, my god, and you're too pretty. no no no you stay away from him." she ranted on before you could even get a word in. "no, tina! i don't, I promise!" you exclaimed, she stared unconvinced, "plus i've got a boyfriend". "hmmm, okay, i'm watching you girl. go get ready." her tone still sounded unconvinced, just a bit more at ease knowing you're at least 'taken'. you quickly composed yourself in the dim fluorescent's of the beef's bathroom as everyone made their way to the bar. slapping on some lipstick, your hoops, and trying to manage as much of your hair as you could. "wepa!! look at you, come on let's go before everyone gets drunk by the time we get there" tina pulls you off into her car.

pt 3.5 up now!!

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #sydney adamu #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear fx #sydney x carmy #syd adamu

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99guz · 1 year ago

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Best Friend Wooyoung who is so excited for you to go on a date but also wants to make sure you’re safe. He makes sure to remind you to put your location on and knows exactly where you are going on the date. So here you sit at the small little hole in the wall restaurant your date across from you having a conversation while waiting for your food to arrive.

And here he sits just a few seats away in disguise. Dark sunglasses and your damn sun hat which in his defense he had bought you so he has every right to wear it. Yeosang told him this was a dumb idea. He should just wait for you to get back home and tell him about the date but what if you needed to send an SOS!

Yes there is an SOS system. SOS Yellow, the date isn’t going well, definitely not gonna see them again. SOS Orange, definitely a creep, come get me. SOS Red Get Me Out Of Here Now! Wooyoung had used SOS Red once and you called him in hysterics saying your grandpa was missing and you needed his help to search. Grandpa wasn’t actually missing; he was at the senior center playing cards.

The date is going well. He is funny, nice and so far nothing short of a gentleman. You had decided to eat first before heading off to watch a movie at the theater. Through laughter you have been going back and forth on what to watch. You say horror, he says action. So here the both of you sit trying to prove which one is better and why.

“Sitting there and imagining yourself in the action, come on. Ca-pow!” he punches the air. “That’s the best thing about action movies.” he places his hands on the table in front of him.

You nod at his words. He has a point about the amount of times you have pictured yourself as a superhero many times. “Okay you have a point but, admit it you get chills down your back while watching a good horror movie. It’s the best feeling! Plus when it's over there is still a thrill left over.”

He shakes his head leaning back into his chair. “No, I stick by my decision. Action is better.” He takes hold of his fork and next thing you know he is taking a forkful from my plate. You gasp and he chuckles. “Ooh good choice.”

That’s when it catches your eye. Looking behind your date's head a few tables away there is a person wearing sunglasses and a sun hat. A sun hat which seems very familiar, since you have worn it multiple times. Your eyes fall lower to the hoodie they are wearing, limited edition Hunter x Hunter hoodie starting price $400.00 you barely wear it.

They angle their head down to block their face and turn their head to the right before getting up and walking away towards the bathrooms. You excuse yourself from the table claiming to need the bathroom. Wooyoung is racing to the bathroom to escape from your wrath he knows you’ve spotted him. He saw the face that you made when you recognised the sweater but you had left it in his car so he can totally wear it. Probably shouldn't have thought to be fair.

He almost made it to a sweet escape but you had caught him by the arm. Wooyoung turns an innocent smile on his face. “Oh my god what are you doing here?” His voice is high as he fakes innocence.

Your eyes narrow shooting arrows at him. “Wooyoung I told you I was coming here! What are you doing here? And in my limited edition Hunter x Hunter shirt! That’s $400.00! Have you lost your damn mind?” you whisper yell.

“I’m sorry I was worried. This is your first date since gorilla shit and if you think I was gonna send you in without backup. What if he’s a creep?” he leans in closer, peaking around the corner at the table then back to you. “Is he a creep?”

“No, he is actually really nice.” A smile creeps onto your face. “He is giving me a Viking vibe.”

Wooyoung nods “Tattoos, full beard, tall, and muscular total Viking.” he smirks.

You smirk. “Super nice voice too. Great tone.”

“Okay I will go home but text me as soon as you get home. You know I’m just worried right?” he clarifies.

You smile because you know he means well, and it makes you feel really safe knowing he has your back the way he does. “I know Woo and I really appreciate it and I love you for having my back. I’ll text you as soon as I get home, okay?” assured him.

He sighs and nods his head. Taking hold of your hands he intertwines your fingers and looks into your eyes with a loving look. “I hope he rearranges your guts. You deserve only the best.”

“I can’t fucking stand you!” you bark out throwing his hands off yours and turn to go back to your date. “Take my goddam fucking sweater off too! And my hat!” you finish. With that you leave Wooyoung behind and get back to the table where your date awaits. Just behind him you can see Wooyoung making his way out of the restaurant, both of you sharing one last secret smile before he sets out.

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wosowrites · 2 years ago

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All Tatted Up (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

Warnings: ⚠️trauma mentions⚠️

A/N: also for the sake of this story, Ann-Kat has retired. Also I love Z but she’s still the second keeper to make the story work. This is my fav fic i’ve ever written btw. and it’s based off this request:

Prompt: reader is a hard faced, tatted up goalkeeper who has a soft spot for Jessie.

You had always loved tattoos. Mapi León had gotten you into them when you were 18. You met her during your first cap for Spain, at 16, and when you were of age, and wanting tattoos, she was the woman to go to. Ever since then, you were constantly getting tattooed, it was therapy, it was healing, it was art.

You played for Barcelona for 6 years, playing for your home town was a dream. You were Barca’s starting keeper, and had 20 clean sheets in one season. You were a spanish legend. That’s why it came to everyone as a shock when you announced you were moving to London to be Chelsea’s first keeper. In reality, only a few people knew why you were leaving. Those people were your best friends, your spanish teammates, Mapi and Alexia.

The past 6 years playing for barcelona were everything, but living in barcelona, living in the town that homed your trauma, it was too hard. The girls understood, they even called Ona to tell them to keep an eye on you, even though they would never admit to you they had. You were always insistent that you could take care of yourself. And hell, you could. You were a brick wall, 6 foot tall, tatted up, jacked goalkeeper. But you were all bark no bite. Inside, behind the hours at the weight room, the tattoos, and the fierce on field personality, you were a god damn angel. You loved the beach and butterflies, and you always woke up at 5:00 am because you loved waking up with the sun.

It left fans confused, the hard, frowning, yelling on field personality was the opposite of the girl that would post sunrise pictures every morning.

But that was you. Your hard surface was practically unbreakable. It had taken your spanish teammates years to get to the root of you, that’s why it caught you so off guard when a certain freckled midfielder broke those walls in a month, it left you off guard how within a month of knowing her, you felt as though you wanted to protect her from the world.

I guess that’s just what Jessie Fleming did to you.

———

Today marked two months since you had joined Chelsea, and today was a big game. Manchester United v Chelsea. You were ready though. You did your game day ritual which consisted of not talking to anybody… yeah. That was it. Your teammates all respected that, and they respected you. They were the best people in the world, it was as though they knew that you had things beyond the surface, and they never judged you.

You walked into the tunnel, knowing you would be walking out after Magda, the captain. Ona was standing there behind her own keeper, Mary Earps.

"Y/n/n!" Ona squealed when she saw you. "¡Oye! hace tanto que te extraño! (Hey, Ona! it’s been so long, i’ve missed you )." You said in spanish, hugging the shorter girls. "Yo también chica, buena suerte hoy! mis compañeros de equipo te tienen un poco de miedo. ( me too girl, good luck today! my teammates are kinda scared of you." Ona joked.

You laughed, hugging her one more time before taking your spot in the line. It was only you from the Chelsea squad that was in the tunnel, but you liked being the first one out of the changing room. Oh, another thing about you, was that you were yet to have more than one goal scored against you in a game for Chelsea.

"That’s Ona Batlle, right?" a voice said behind you. You turned around to see Jessie standing there, basically looking up at you. You blushed bring red, not knowing why. "Um- yeah. We play for spain together." You said, feeling Ona’s eyes burning into your head. "I know. I’ve watched you before on TV playing for Spain." Jessie said. "Really? Me too. The gold medal game. And… others." You were talking shakily, she had that effect on you. The rest of the team started walking into the tunnel so Jessie smiled at you and quickly took her spot in the line. "Eres roja brillante ( you are bright red )," Ona giggled. "Callate! (shut up)" You said a bit loudly.

Most of the United players flinched.

It was the 70th minute in the game and the score was 1-0 to Chelsea. It was then that somehow, Alessia Russo got a breakaway. Kadeisha Buchanan was fast, and reached the blonde striker when she was in the box. You were ready to save the shot, but Kadeisha clipped the ball away, hitting her ankles first. Russo went tumbling to the ground, staying down a bit as Kadeisha tries to defend herself. But the ref wouldn’t hear it and awarded a penalty. She apologized to you but you brushed her off. "It’s no biggy, it happens. Just get ready for the rebound." You told her, placing yourself on the line. The referee came over to you, explaining to you the rules. "Respectfully i’ve been a keeper for 17 years, I know how to do this ref." You told her. Both teams giggled a bit, orher than Alessia, her face was stone cold, knowing she needed to score. The referee shrugged and walked away.

You extended your arms, jumping from side to side and playing mind games with Alessia. The referee blew her whistle, Alessia ran up quickly and hit the ball hard. You faked left right before she shot, making her shoot right. But you shifted your weight and got the tip of your fingers on the ball right as it was about to go into the net. The ball got pushed out and Magda was quick to clear it out. "FUCK YEAH!" You yelled loudly, pumping your fist in the air and getting hugs and claps on the back from all of your teammates. Jessie smiled at you, hugging your side before taking her spot again for a corner.

Millie took it, and it was perfect. It went right to Ella Toone, who jumped up in the air and headed it. As she did, you saw someone in blue jump as well, beside Ella. You saw her fall to the ground with a small scream, holding her head. You also saw the ball coming directly to the top left corner. You had to choose the ball. You jumped up, diving and caught the ball, falling to the ground and holding it to your chest. But the ball in your hands was long forgotten as you saw Jessie lying in the box, holding her head. You rushed over to her, the ball under your arm. You saw Ella leaning over her, but you pushed her away. "Hey get away from her." You basically growled. Ella did, she walked backwards towards her team. "Fucking scary she is." She mumbled.

Indeed, when you got protective, it was better for everyone to stay away. Ona knew that well, having been on the ground with you wanting to protect her more than once, so she made sure her manchester teammates stayed away. But she sensed that you were protecting Jessie in a different way. In a less sisterly way.

"Hey there, Jess." You said, gently pulling down her shirt and rubbing your gloved hand up and down her back. "Hey. Did she score?" Jess groaned, rolling over on her back. "Come on now. I’m in net. Of course she didn’t." You joked. "Of course." She laughed.

You pulled her hand off her head gently. Her head was bleeding a fair bit. "Where the hell are the medics?" You asked, looking around. "They went in the tunnel with Erin." Jessie groaned. It was true, they had gone in because Erin had taken a bad hit. "Okay then, sit up, we don’t want blood all over your hair." You said, seeing that Magda was trying to tell Emma to get the medics. You didn’t know what to do, she was bleeding a lot of she really needed pressure. "Okay, Jess. I’m gonna give you my shirt. This is so damn stupid." You mumbled. You slipped off your shirt quickly, pressing it to Jessie’s head who laughed. "I didn’t know what to do! Oh there are the medics." You said, standing up in your under shirt. As the keeper, you always wore a shirt under your jersey to avoid burns. "What the hell took you guys so long?" You asked, your voice carrying through the small stadium. The medics apologized quickly, earning nothing but an eye roll from you. "Hey, Sam? Can you get me another jersey?" You asked the striker who nodded and jogged over to Emma. You kneeled back down beside Jessie who now had a towel to her head. "Now that i’m thinking about it, maybe my dirty jersey wasn’t the best thing to put to your cut." You told her. Jessie laughed. "It’s okay. It smelt like you." She said, blushing immediately. "Hmm. Like me or like sweat?" You joked. "Like you." She answered.

The medic was now taping her head. "You’re going to take her off on concussion watch right?" You asked. "Yeah. Of course." The man answered quickly, not making any kind of eye contact with you. "No. Really i’m fine." Jessie tried to say. "If you play then I can’t play because i’ll be too worried about you. Go off the field, the games almost over. I’ll see you after, okay?" You told her. "Okay."

The medics tried to help her up but you ushered them off, helping her yourself. Kingsmeadow clapped loudly and you kissed her forehead quickly. Jessie walked off the field with the medics and your now blood stained jersey. Sam was now back with a fresh one which she handed to you. If it was anyone else, Sam would have teased you for how protective you were being of the freckled canadian, but she thought that for her own safety, maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

There were 9 minutes of added time, in which manchester fought hard, tiring you immensely. But the Blues managed to pull off the win. You were quick to high five your own players and the manchester players. Ella went nowhere near you, obviously avoiding you. But you didn’t care. You clapped at the fans quickly and then hurried into the tunnel and towards the medical room. You knocked on the door, opening it slightly. "You decent?" You asked. "Come on, y/n, i don’t need to be naked for a head injury. "Well you should change your jersey, Jess. It’s all blood stained." You said, walking up to her and pointing out the blood on her Jersey. "Oh shit. Yeah I forgot." She said. "I’ll get you one. But how’s your head?" You asked. "It’s okay. A small concussion and they’re gonna give me stitches once the bleeding stops." Jessie smiled. "Okay good. So I don’t need to kill Ella Toone?" You said, opening the door to go get her jersey. "No. She may live." Jess answered.

You quickly walked to the changing room, the team was still out on the field. You went to Jessie’s cubby to notice she only had her puffy coat and no jacket. It was too warm inside for a puffy jacket, so you rolled your eyes and grabbed your own jacket. The one with the number 1 on it. You walked back towards the room and opened the door. "So for some reason you didn’t bring your jacket, you only had your puffy coat, you weirdo." You told her, tossing her your zip up track jacket. "I know, I was in a rush this morning and I forgot it." She said, holding it. "This is yours though." She said, passing her finger over the number 1. "I know. My jersey isn’t bloody though." You said. "True." You guys held eye contact for a while before you broke it by turning around for her to change. "Thanks." She said.

You heard ruffling behind you and then it stopped. "You can turn around now." Jessie said. You turned around to see she hasn’t put on the track jacket. Your breath hitched. "Jess, what are you-?" You started saying. "Come here." She said, you started hearing people pouring into the tunnel. "Put the jacket on, Jess.” You said. "I don’t mind you seeing me like this." She said. "I don’t either. I don’t want the others to walk in and see you like this." You answered, walking towards her. "They’ve already seen me-"

"It’s different." You answered. Jessie slipped on the track jacket and you zipped it up for her slowly. Looking down at her body disappearing as the jacket zipped. Just then, the door opened. "Hey, you all good, Jess?" Niahm asked, poking her head through the door. "Yeah. All good. Give us a minute?" Jessie said.

Niahm looked between you both but nodded and walked out. You turned to Jessie, looking at her, your bodies close even though she was sitting down. You wanted her. You wanted her lips on yours so badly it almost hurt. So you gave in. You leaned down, pushing her chin up to give you full access to her lips. And you kissed her sweetly, and gently.

Eventually, you pulled away and walked towards the door. "I’ll see you later, J." You said.

Jessie nodded, a wide smile on her face.

A/N: I know ppl are gonna ask for a part 2 so I got you guys ;)

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renenene · 7 months ago

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Author’s notes at the end :) first fanfic!! Yippee!!

I’m Sorry for You

4.2k words

The title is a song lyric from “ILYIS pt 2” by Mel Bryant & the Mercy Makers

Things I’d put if I ever posted to ao3 !!

Tags:

Many POC and LGBTQ+ headcanons among other things, quirk shenanigans, angst but not too bad ig, POV switching, Bakugo Katsuki swears a lot, Class 2-A, Sero speaks Spanish (yell at me if it’s wrong I’ll probably have my friend translating), Bakugo Katsuki likes to learn languages to fuck with Deku, Bakugo Katsuki natural talent frfr, PTSD for all, post war arc except I stopped watching after s5 and know everything mostly by fandom and friends ranting at me but I’m reading the manga currently, everybody lives/nobody dies, except AFO, we’re getting creative with the Bakugo nicknames, Bakugo in therapy, dekusquad are the real menaces, hero internships, the new class 1-A maybe, smoking weed/weed mentions, panic attacks, dissociation, let Deku stop being an innocent baby, let Deku be a teenager, let Katsuki be a dork, I believe in class 2-A having lives and real trauma responses ☝️

Characters:

Class 2-A, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Mina Ashido, Eijiro Kirishima, Sero Hanta, Shouto Todoroki, Himiko Toga, Cammie, original OCs probably as background characters idk

Relationships:

Midoriya Izuku/Bakugo Katsuki, past Midoriya Izuku/Ochako Uraraka, background Mina Ashido/Cammie subplot, Ochako Uraraka/Himiko Toga subplot, minor Mirko/Shigaraki, minor Sero Hanta/Todoroki Shouto subplot, Platonic Ochako Uraraka/Katsuki Bakugo, minor Kyoka Jiro/Yaoyorozu Momo subplot

Blurb ig??

Katsuki Bakugo has cheated death nearly three times at this point. Sludge incident, Kamino incident, the goddamn war. He doesn’t gamble with his life or anything. Villains just seem to love him. If it were up to Katsuki, his life would never be played with.

That's gonna change real quick, though. You’d be crazy to think he’ll accept that after so much goddamn struggle in so little time, it’s Izuku’s ass that’s the only thing pumping his heart. Katsuki is cool with Izuku. He even trusts him. Still, if Katsuki can’t control anything, he needs to at least be able to control his own self.

Yeah, Katsuki’ll cheat death again. Fourth time’s the charm.

Chapter 1 ——————————————

4:48 AM, Friday / Katsuki Bakugo

The sun isn’t up yet, thank God. There’ll be no first year, dumbfuck extras to ogle me on my morning run. I can enjoy my quiet peace — even if the weather is getting a bit too cold for my liking.

Already, I’ve got a tracksuit on in seconds and I’m making record time. If I can get my hair down without problems, then I might be able to sneak some time at the gym. All that’s left is to fix my hair.

My drawer comes open with a roll. My hair clips are usually at the forefront. Usually. I put them at the front every night. I damn sure know where I put my shit.

…

Where the fuck are my clips?

8:21 AM / Izuku Midoriya

The days were long. The days were hard. And this day in particular was filled with— BOOM! There’s that same crackling noise everyone is all too familiar with by now. You’d think things would change after a year.

But no.

This is worse than usual.

Much, much worse.

Whoops and cheers arise, shouting “Go! Go! Catch ‘im!” A chopping hand makes its best attempt at distracting the instigating crowd, but only succeeds for half a second before the eyes are glued back onto the affair like a brand new fridge magnet.

“Encouraging violent behavior is not heroic cond— Bakugo-San!” Our beloved but prickly class president yelps as an almost impressively minute AP shot goes whizzing over his perfectly styled head. “No quirks in the classroom!”

“It ain’t a classroom until hygenically-challenged-Sensei gets here!” Kacchan sneers his usual sneer as he readies his hand to flick. “Until that infestation of a man wiggles his way in this room, this place is my battlefield. And just like the war— I ain’t losin’!”

“Badmouthing our sensei after he—“

“Take a joke, glasses,” Kaminari leans into the stickler’s side, purring. “Kacchan respects Aizawa-Sensei probably the most out of all of— FUCK!!”

“Language!”

Kacchan’s hand sizzles just the slightest bit from recoil from the shot that narrowly missed Kaminari’s ear. “That’s for making me sound all soft.”

“Kacchan, he was defending y—“

“You better pray there’s someone to defend your ass.” The blond swivels around with the quickness of a top-of-his-class war veteran, which he is, but no one would say to his face lest his head get somehow even bigger.

I gulp. This commotion has been going on all morning. Everyone knows Kacchan isn’t really going to hurt anyone but… he looks like he’s fighting urges.

Sero sits up ever so slowly. His eyes are bloodshot like he’s done a pretty amount of weed before classes, and he probably has. For God’s sake, it’s barely eight in the morning. UA is definitely a stressful place to be, but soon-to-be heroes shouldn’t be doing drugs.

Another small AP shot sounds, and I glow the slightest bit green to dodge it, landing star-shaped like a startled cat in the upper right corner of the back of the mangled classroom. The place looks like a tornado tore through it with the way the desks are all skewed. Some were moved so my classmates could watch the entertainment, chewing on snide comments and muffled giggles as toppings to Yaomomo’s popcorn. It’s like a tiny gladiator fight is going on, and the lion has eaten my sword.

A gladiator fight that Kacchan still won’t win. It’s only because he’s not able to go one hundred percent with this whack a mole stuff ‘cause he’ll mess up the room. However, fucking around is the only way he’ll ever find out how to land a hit on me.

“What did he even do?” Sero drawls, pointing his exasperation at a snarling Kacchan, palms popping with learned restraint. And oh, that restraint is going through a popping pop quiz of a test right now.

He has no clips in his hair. As of late, he had his hair clipped down over his eye like some 2000s emo, minus the scene extensions.

“I don’t have to tell a shitty extra jack shit,” he growls out, a menacing smile turning menacing scowl. It was an expected reaction, really. He always bristles when people get all in his business. And yet, class 2-A is nothing if not always in all his business, if you couldn’t tell by even the most outwardly innocent and responsible eyes being on the commotion as well.

Sero stalks closer with a yawn, a few paces behind him. He's not a step in front, still, out of habit I suppose. Kacchan has eased up a lot with the war. War seems to mature people, everyone here, really. But during his moments of irrational rage, his little aspects of tyranny bubble up like a bad reaction. The reaction he gives Sero, a fast side eye, seems like that sort of steaming an almost boiling pot of water will do before it erupts, leaking water into the ready and waiting flame beneath it.

“You don’t have to tell me ‘jack shit’, sure.” Sero shrugs, most likely unaware that his life is in jeopardy because of the weed in his system. An angry Kacchan is a prickly Kacchan. As much as Sero needs to diffuse the situation for his poor, poor beauty sleep before class, he also shouldn’t want to be put to rest for good. I personally want all my friends graduating without any tombstones for us to plant. “But,” Sero continues, drawling again just so Kacchan can at least focus his annoyance away from me and towards Sero, “we always figure out what dumbass—“

“Language,” Iida peeps out, a low volume I didn’t know his voice was capable of reaching.

“—what stupid thing you fight Midoriya for. Eventually, anyway. So just speed the process already.”

A slow hand turns to aim, palm up and popping, right at his temple.

“‘You tryna call me a dumbass?”

“Lang—“

From the corner of my eye, I catch a mesmerized Uraraka pat Iida for him to lean back. A calm, or at least calm looking Kacchan, is the worst Kacchan of them all.

Over the years there were grumpy Kacchan’s, raging Kacchan’s, stressed Kacchan’s, exhausted Kacchan’s, Kacchan’s in denial— when was he not?— and right now, a calm, almost crazed Kacchan. Of all the Kacchan’s our class seemed to learn how to wiggle our way into the graces of tolerance he had stowed beyond a seemingly less and less penetrable fortress as the days blended, calm Kacchan’s grace looked to lie in another plane of existence.

For, this is a Kacchan that smiled. Easy and small and uncanny. He may make many threats, but it’s been years since he’s looked so genuinely murderous.

“What I’m tryna do is keep you from getting detention for the third time this month. You’re on a weekly basis at this point.”

It’s almost a relief to see Kacchan stop smiling, but that threatening hand moves not one inch down.

“Who told you to care? Hah? Is your name glasses now? Or ponytail? Nah, you’re tape face. So stay in your lane and quit worryin’, jackass.” The two others in question bristle at their mention, but otherwise make no other reaction. Sero’s reaction, however, is to raise a brow.

“So they’re allowed to worry?”

“No, you— what!?— They’re not allowed to worry,” he grits out. “It’s what they do, and it’s what you don’t.”

This is when Mina pipes up, chief instigator of the onlookers. “Mido-Chan—“ she points frantically to the door— “is gone!”

Her impish grin almost grows past her cheeks at the same time that Kacchan’s explosions pop dangerously close to Sero’s face.

Luckily, that’s when Aizawa-Sensei literally rolls in and suddenly the desks are put together by the time he’s upright. Noticeably still in that horrendous banana yellow caterpillar sack, but upright nonetheless.

“Will someone tell me why Midoriya-San was full cowling down the hall?” He drones, already too done to even fathom the possible answers.

A hand shoots up, and it’s no surprise that it’s Iida’s.

“Bakugo-San and Midoriya were having a bit of a scuffle—“

“Again?” He interrupts, just annoyed at the common occurrence at this point.

“Yes, sensei.”

“That’s the third time this month.” Kacchan sucks his teeth at the remark. “Earphone Jack, Creati.” The bloodshot, dried eyes of the insomniac glance between the two in question. “You both work well together. Find the problem child before the bell rings. If you can do that, I’ll give an extra 5 credits to your participation grade for today. However, lost time won’t be made up. Rendezvous with your friends. Heroes don’t have time to ‘make up’ their missions.”

Yaomomo is the first to raise her hand, face scrunched in objection. “Sensei—“

“Unfortunately for whatever you have to say, heroes are not able to decline calls to action if they’re able, either. Imagine a mother’s child dying because you dawdled.”

Him and finding the oddest times to give some strangely amazing advice. He’s not wrong, but he’s definitely twisting the system so he doesn’t have to go searching himself. The man is on a prosthetic leg though.

It’s not until thirty minutes later the three of us return, heaving a stick, leaf, and splinter ladled me by my shoulders.

“S-sorry, sensei.” I bow my head, nervously smiling. By the quiver of my lip, any other person might’ve thought I was about to laugh. But this is class 2-A. They know I’m on the verge of tears with anxiety.

Aizawa-Sensei does nothing but pinch his nose bridge and groan. “Just sit.”

And this class begins, Bakugo sending the occasional calculated glance at Midoriya.

12:13 PM / Katsuki Bakugo

“Dude! You freaked! I mean— more than usual! Like— this was going crazy! It was entertaining as hell—“

“You almost got your ear exploded off,” Sero interrupts the honey haired boy with a small snicker.

“You did too! And well, yeah, that wasn’t entertaining.” He deflates at the memory but perks right up when he gets back to storytelling. Y’know, as if they were not literally there.

Kaminari blabbers on and on, throwing in the odd joke or two about how Izuku slipped away like the fucking Pink Panther with the way he tip toed. Like I was one of those red light laser systems, poised to go off at any moment if you only breathed in the wrong way.

Of course I fucking would. That asshole knows what he’s got comin’, going through my shit. He shouldn’t be so damn surprised I was ready to leave him in tatters. I would disintegrate him with my eyes if I could. The ones that were currently downcast and staring into nothing.

Kirishima leans forward a little from his side of the lunch table, across from me, to tap the space in my view. It’s one quick tap. He knows it’ll get my attention ‘cause I hate it when people do it. It’s as if they’re treating me like a dog, tapping in front of me. Makes me wanna bite their finger off and show them a real bitch. Still, the tap is light enough that the others continue to be too deep in gossip land to notice whatever we’re about to say.

“You good?”

My airhead expression falls right back into a scowl.

“I’m as good as someone with detention can be.” I’d punch his highlighter head if I didn’t like him so much. Tolerated him more than others, at least.

“How long’s it this time?”

“An hour after school. ‘Said I gotta watch Eri ‘cause he knows I hate it.”

“What else?”

I narrow my eyes, leaning closer to Kirishima. “What’s it to you?” The fucker doesn’t pry, thank God. Why’s he doing it now?

“I’m worried.” He shrugs as if it’s normal. “You keep getting in detention.”

My narrowed eyes go to slits by the time I'm finished blinking. “Yeah, well, it’s my business if I do. Not any of yours.”

He only folds his arms and leans back, scoffing. “It’s plenty my business, dear ol’ Kats—“

“Quit calling me that, Jaws,” I grit out. He knows I hate that dumbass nickname. For one—it’s way too cutesy for my liking. ‘Kats’. I don’t have fucking paws. I am not a cat. And if I were, I’d scratch your face and vomit on you before you can say “Kah”.

Nonetheless, he continues. “You’re my friend. I don’t surround myself with people who aren’t manly, and people who aren’t manly go to detention.”

“‘You callin’ me a loser?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“People who aren’t manly are losers to you, stoplight. I ask again: ‘You callin’ me a loser?”

“The point is stop going to detention.” I roll my eyes. Okay, so he’s calling me a loser. Maybe going to detention isn’t very cool.

“And I don’t mean skipping, just in case you get ideas— even though I know you wouldn’t,” he says, for no reason, might I add. I wouldn’t skip classes unless there was a literal life threatening situation.

“Now, here’s your cookie.” He stuffs a spicy, sweet wafer in my mouth, watching with content as I shift from getting ready to blow his head off to being pacified by the combo of flavors.

Todoroki whisks by at that convenient moment, holding a book open. He looks so similar to Izuku, furiously taking notes once he sees even the slightest noteworthy thing. He’s even got his tongue stuck out to the side as Izuku usually does. Speaking of, what the hell noteworthy thing am I doing right now? “That cookie looks good.” And there goes my answer.

“The recipe’s homemade!” Kirishima chimes.

“Ooh, Kiri, can I have one?” Sero’s practically eating one with his eyes. “Just one nibble or something?”

Mina’s next in line to whine. “Yeah, c’mon, don’t hog!”

“Okay, okay!”

The mention of food has officially brought the other oafs into our conversation. He passes a cookie around to everyone, halting at Kaminari, who seriously cannot take spicy shit at all.

“Why can’t you ever make something normal?”

I lick the crumbs off my fingers, noticing Kirishima grin hard enough for his big cheeks to hurt. Yeah, the cookies are good. Whatever.

“Why can’t you grow some balls, dunceface?”

The others snicker, all except Todoroki.

“But doesn’t Kaminari already have—“

“Nevermind!” Mina pipes up before he can ruin a good joke.

I snag another wafer-cookie whatever the fuck and look up at Mr. Pill. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

“I’m taking notes on that cookie. You mentioned there was a recipe, Kirishima.”

He nods.

Todoroki blinks once. Twice. “Can I have it?”

“You bake!?” Sero bursts, lips pulled in a wide smile. He’s too enamored to realize he’d completely overshadowed Ei and the fact that he was supposed to answer.

“I didn’t know Todo-Chan baked!” Pinky’s hands smack on the table to prop herself up in all her excitement. “You and Sato-Chan should totally bake together sometime. It’d be a flavor party!”

“I thought you’d like bland stuff.” Kaminari is surprisingly less energy filled than the others, instead just curious.

“Baking’s super manly, man!” Kirishima shouts.

Todoroki just shrugs at all their enthusiasm.

“My friends like sweets, so I learned.”

“Well, this ain’t sweet.” I take a large chomp from another cookie. “‘S spishee,” I growl through the mush in my mouth.

“My friends like spice as well.”

That makes all of us raise our brows. Todoroki’s friends like spice? As in— Iida, who’s a stickler for just a chip as opposed to something with “nutritional value”? Midoriya who’s eyes water after “too much” ketchup? Uraraka who… to be honest, she can handle her spice, but can’t take a taki. She’s probably at “spicy” Doritos level.

Sero hooks an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders and grins, small and sly. “Ah, I get it. We’re your friends.” The oh’s on Mina and Kaminari’s face are almost immediate.

“I never said I was peppermint’s friend.” I grumble. The dumbasses continue with their cooing and I continue emptying Kirishima’s container.

“You wanna make cookies for us, Todo?” Mina purrs, cozying up to the boy’s other side. Her eyes bat all coaxing-like.

“No,” he glances down at her, and it takes her a second to realize he’s not being smart with her. Just being as socially inept as he usually is. “You guys are my friends, but they’re not for you.”

“Oh.” Sero and Mina glance between each other, but Kirishima’s the first to ask the big question.

“Who’re you makin’ ‘em for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t tell?” Dunceface and Elbows ask in unison.

“I can’t tell.”

“Sometimes I just wanna mangle your stupid, inexpressive mug— the shitheads wanna know why, you dumbass,” I grumble.

The dumbass in question blinks, and nods. “I can’t tell.” We all collectively groan. “I can’t.” And the boy shrugs.

“You can’t tell us why you want a spicy cookie recipe and you can’t tell us why you can’t tell us you…” Kaminari freezes, brows pinched. “What was I saying again, Kiri? I-I was definitely saying something— I know it made sense.”

“Mhm.” The redhead snickers at his best friend—but I’m really the best friend ‘cause I’m the best in everything—and replies in kind. “He can’t tell us why he wants the cookie recipe, or why he can’t tell us why he can’t tell us he needs the recipe.”

Kaminari’s eyes are wide as he hugs his own sides, so Sero offers him a pat on the back as consolation. I guess I'd pat him too, if I only I hadn’t turned my hearing aids down. Yeah, hearing aids. Setting off explosions only a few feet from your ears since the age of four does that to you.

“You’re correct, Kirishima. Now, the recipe? Please.”

He nods with the widest smile. “I can text it to you before the day ends. Probably before training with All Might.”

“Anytime before Saturday is a good time.”

Saturday? I perk up. I’m allowed to be fucking nosy. “What’s happenin’ Saturday?”

“Uh…” Uh? Since when was Todoroki capable of saying uh? “I wanna buy the products as soon as possible. For my friend.”

I freeze, eyes narrowing at my Tupperware. It was then that we’d all had the same thought, but Mina was the first to voice it. “Frien—“ Sero’s tape shoots to cover her mouth at a practiced speed. “Mm!! Mm, hm!?” She squeals, and he shakes his head with an eerily serious grimace.

“If you’ll text me the recipe, then I don’t have a reason to be here anymore.” Todoroki bows at a right angle. “Please excuse my interr—“ is that a blush on his goddamn ears?

Kirishima’s the one who covers Kaminari’s mouth when he almost makes the mistake of commenting on it.

Half n’ half stalks away, cradling that book of secrets. Just when he’s out of earshot— “America has a problem.” I lean in, narrowing my eyes at each of my tolerable twits.

Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari are sat back down and huddled in, already ready to conspire.

“No shit he does. Look at the way he walked off. Like that book was treasure!” Sero whisper-shouts, throwing his hands around.

“I didn’t even know Todo-Chan was capable of blushing!”

Kirishima shushes Mina for being a bit too loud, then ducks right back into our little circle. “Bakugo and Sero are right though. He was totally suspicious. I mean, yeah, we’re all Uber closer now after the…”

“You know,” Kaminari murmurs.

“Yeah, that.” Kirishima takes a shuddering breath at the memories. Bloody and grave. “Anywho, yeah, we’re close. But no one just walks up with a notebook for a reason as small as spicy cookies. I didn’t even tell anybody I made them.” He folds his arms and scoffs. “It’s like the guy knew or something. He couldn’t have had a notebook ready that damn fast.”

“He couldn’t have. But a freckled fuck I know keeps at least one paper and pen on deck at all times.” I pointedly glance behind myself, and their eyes follow that glance. The… “dekusquad”—God, do I hate that that’s what we’re calling them now—don’t look suspicious though. “Shitty de—zuku is in on it,” I interrupt myself midway through the nickname Izuku has told me multiple times he doesn’t mind.

“And did you see the way he seemed almost more interested when you said they were spicy? Who here even likes spicy cookies over regular cookies!?” Kaminari sounds like he’s straining to keep his voice under a hearing level.

Of course that’s the part Kaminari zeroes in on. It is a detail to point out, but not that big. Sero shrugs.

“They were good, but not better than a regular cookie, Ei. No offense.” Mina smiles up at him.

“Whatever, I made them only to satisfy Kats’ hell-hot buds anyway.”

“Which they are.” He blinks a few times, eyes ripped to my deadpan. “Satisfied.”

“Thanks?”

“Ain’t nothing’ to thank. They were good.”

“Kats—“

“Simple as that.”

RING!!

“Shit, the bell!” Kaminari’s packing his unfinished lunch at lightning speed.

“I’ll feel so bad if I have to see that hollow shell of a man looking any more depressing if we’re late to his training,” Sero grumbles as he grabs his belongings with his tape.

“Well don’t remind me!” Mina wails.

Kirishima’s laughing under his breath as he pulls his bag on. “I don’t think All Might will get depressed if you guys are a little late. It’s not manly, yeah, but it’s not world ending.”

The others can scramble to class all they want. I’ve got a plan for the green team. They wanna send spies on me? Jokes on them, I’ve been watched all my goddamn life.

“Whatchu want?” Kirishima squints at me, only teasing. I fold my arms and lean my hip into the edge of the table.

“Shut up and I’ll tell you. You, me, after school.”

“Session?”

What the hell? “No— Fuck, no. Not fuckin’ weed, Ei.”

He only shrugs. “It could’ve been weed. It sounded like weed. It should’ve been weed.”

Why the hell would I want weed?

“No. No, it shouldn’t have. Nevermind—I mean, we need to talk. I got somethin’, and I need ya’ to go along with it.”

“‘You have a plan?”

“Yeah.”

The asshole looks at me. Scrutinizing as if it’s impossible for the top of our fucking class to come up with a plan so fast. I can imagine everywhere he’s looking. The knick in my brow from the war, the worry line just barely coming to shape on my forehead. Basically, every part of me that’s only formed ‘cause of that damn war. I’d rather drop dead than let him think I’m weak.

“Why were you chasing Midoriya—“

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Kats—“

“I told you to knock that—“

“Why not? To the name and… this morning. I thought it was just ‘cause Mina and the others were around that you wouldn’t tell.”

He knows he’s prying, and yet he’s testing me anyway. Regardless of Mina’s big gossipy mouth, I wouldn’t tell a soul. It’s not their business.

“I told you I’m not talking about it, and the extras weren’t the reason why. Plus, that name is fucking ugly by the way.”

“We made it for you though.” He grins.

“‘Don’t mean it don’t suck.” I nudge my head towards the exit, where the bulk of our year is off to. “C’mon, before my perfect no lateness record blows up.”

Kirishima kicks into a jog but raises his brow at me anyway. “But we’re still not done talking. You still haven’t told me—“

“Okay, Johnny Bravo, if I gotta tell you—“

“Who the fuck is Johnny Bravo?”

“—that one buff guy? Y’know, that one show about the guy who’s all macho and has gigantic man tits— nevermind, stop interrupting!” I can feel sparks starting in my palms and he’s not making it any better. “As I was saying, I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’! It’s me and shitnerd’s business. Not yours, not Soyface’s, and not anybody else’s. Got it?”

He mimics catching a ball, dropping it ever so slowly on the floor, and pouting up at me. I swear I’ll kill him one day.

“One day they’ll be sending your ass back to Fatgum. ‘Cause I’ll beat you so bad your quirk will be unusable.”

“Kats, your plays on words are getting too many steps—“

“‘Wasn’t even a play on words, but I’ll give you a more pea-brained threat: I’ll eat you.”

“Hell yeah! Love who you love. I mean, don’t love me though.”

I sigh. My friends are so… stupid.

Most of our class is already huddled around the symbol of peace by the time we arrive. All Might still insists on showing up in his buff form until he starts choking blood, even though no one needs or wants him to. Though, it’s not like anyone wants to crush his spirit by saying anything about it.

“I am here, my students!” the man bellows, as if we don’t have eyes.

Kaminari hails him, before Iida jabs his sharp as hell elbow in the blond's side.

Our training begins.

——————————————————

A/N TIME !!!

Hope anyone who read this enjoyed :) This A/N is long ash tho, can y’all tell I’m a yapper

Anywho, finally posting the fanfic I’ve been working on 😭 literally only 2 chapters and the beginning of a 3rd in because I have such a bad habit of forgetting things I started, remembering, forgetting, not liking, and repeating the cycle. I got really inspired reading The Way You Used to Do planning this out though. Read it last year and my friends haven’t heard silence since.

If I don’t think this is ass by the time I finish I might post to ao3 as well (probably in like 10 yrs LOL idk how fanfic writers can consistently write chapters and finish with 200k words in like 4 months) this is basically my form of beta-ing when my bsf isn’t available lol

Also, I’ve kinda just been writing in a google doc without a title because it was originally an “x reader” but then the plot I planned got too interesting 🤷🏾‍♀️ I think “I’m Sorry for You” fits the narrative I’ve built though. If anyone wants to know why, id be happy to explain ^^ Anywho, I always think those existential “the stars r ur eyes” or whatever titles were so pretty and I wanted to have something like that but my brain always blanks out when I have to think of a title. Womp womp.

If anyone is interested, I also have a doc for planning, with character headcanons and analyses. I have a visceral hatred for OOC works and while most will say that it is so, they can just be so far from source material that I’ll die reading it. In addition, I made a little playlist to help me brainstorm plot and think about bakudeku dynamics.

#bakudeku #mha #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #fanfic #new fanfic #mha bkdk #bkdk #bnha bkdk #bkdk fanfic

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fullofgutsndopamine · 8 months ago

Text

We Could Build A Home (We Could Play Pretend) five

previous masterlist

TW/I angst, cursing, alcohol, alcoholism, toxic/abusive relationship with parents (yours/charlies), toxic masculinity, heavy reference to physical abuse, fighting, charlie is a dick

the days after are filled with you trying to find a new hobby, something to keep your hands busy, to keep your mind off him and the sting that came with the song-

and also, trying to keep the snippet of the song you heard out of your head. it plays again and again, like a lullaby, taunting you in the back of your head when your eyes close, when your eyes wander over to his side of the house

Everything reminds you of him, and it's torture.

Even the lake, that sits right in your front yard, can see it when you're poured over doing dishes, reminds you of him, the days you'd sit on his broken pier, holding his hand as he walked you down it, could give in at any second, a torn beach towel in his hand as he laid it down for you, laid next to you, his hand on top of yours as he made the motion with the lake gently, crashing into the sea-wall, retreating, hitting again-

"I think in a past life, I was the lake."

you crane your head to look at him, his arms folded behind his head, your head rests on his arm and you watch him silently.

he look even more tired in the sun, you spent half this time tracing the marks the sun brought out onto his face gently, fingers dance from one to the next, gently scoop your fingers into his dimples, the kind that only seems to show up when he's out of his house-

you use your elbow to prop yourself up more, to really look at him, because he hasn't done much talking lately, especially not anything deep-act like you don't feel his hand on your lower back when you sit halfway up

His hand is still over yours, larger than yours, calloused to hell and back and scarred- "I'd find you," he says quietly, gently, "past life or not. Whatever you come back as, i'd find you."

and the moment is to sweet for a second, makes you roll back onto your back: "even if i was a worm?"

a lazy laugh comes back, uses his hand to block the sun out of his eyes, "i'd dig through every last tomato plant to find you, sunshine."

You bite your lip, because you know this is a joke, but it's still sweet to you, still means something to you-those little notes he'd leave in your mailbox, usually just a reminder that it was trash night, or something silly like that, signed with a C and a scribble, hit you that was a worm, all this time later-

you miss those nights, would do anything for them, and the next house over, so would charlie-

It comes in a rare moment of his father not drunk off his ass, asks where you are, seems genuinely surprised to not find you in his wake.

and charlie hasn't had time to practice this, hasn't slept in two days, got up when he heard the screen door slam close to make his father breakfast-

charlie cuts into a pancake he made, "Not sure, sir," Wilbur mumbles, and his father hates mumbling, hates when charlie doesn't look at him when he's speaking. "I think they've been busy with-"

his fathers fists slam on the kitchen table, "Look at me when you speak, charles. I don't know how many god damn times we have to go over this."

and his patience for the day is slowly draining, pouring out of his father, and he wishes he could scoop the patience back into him, just wants a good day, cried himself to sleep over you last night-

"Yes, sir." charlie places the fork down, eyes dart around for a second before he licks his lips and continues, "I think they've been working-"

his voice cracks. knows he's going to have to practice speaking about you, get rid of the crack his voice makes, will have to adjust to a life without you-charlie clears his throat, begging himself to pull it together for just a second.

"You cryin', boy?" His dad is yelling already, zero to sixty in seconds flat, "I'm tryin' to raise a man, ain't no boy of mine gonna be cryin'-"

His father makes his way across the table and charlie’s eyes slam shut, prays for it to be over, for it to end-usually, he'd be thinking of you, the constant that got him through it, but now, that hurt even more-

His face is harder, when he goes into town without you, less apology's with shaking hands for the paying in change, more of a stoic: "Say something. i dare you." on his face now, not the same charlie who stopped to pick flowers and carefully tuck them behind your ear as you both made a day of shopping around.

You start hearing all these stories of him, his fists doing the talking to anyone in town who had anything at all to say (the stories aren't passed down, of course, of the cashier who's at the receiving end of his fist, a snide comment that they're glad he dropped you, was trash anyways, would end up like your father, or if you're lucky, dead like your mother-)

You go out of your way to avoid seeing him, so when you finally do, a hot day for the Fall, even by Michigan's standards, sweat has your bangs plastered to your forehead as you tear weeds up-somehow, the sound of the gravel under feet surprises you, you jump-and there he is.

and there the fuck he is.

part of you is so excited to see him, not use to this hiatus of him, you want to drop the shovel out of your hand and run to him, throw your arms around his neck as he spins you around like he use to-

his move first, you tell yourself quietly.

instead, a small crowd is behind him, these new friends of his you know only in passing, wouldn't be able to tell you their names, have cupped hands and are whispering to one another as they stare at you, at the house.

and charlie is swaying back and forth in his spot, drunk, even after he said for years and years, he wouldn't do that, not after what you two have seen-

charlie speaks first, and you half don't even want an apology, all he would have to do is say your name, or darling or acknowledge your existence-and you'd forget those sleepless nights over him, missing him.

"i was always the dumb one, right?" he hiccups, is so obviously drunk, "Just in your shadow"

Where the fuck is this coming from?

"charlie, you fucking idiot." You stand, dust the dirt off your knees, "What are-"

He's talking, or more yelling, because he could never whisper, even when he wasn't drunk, and was just a kid following you around in his dad's too big tee-shirts and broken overalls, missing teeth and his father's cowboy hat too big for his head, always falling over his eyes as he talked in an excited lisp about the lake, the fish. When he was a child and everything was less scary-

You can't look at his face, the black eye he wears, the fact that you aren't even sure if it was the receiving end of his father or a stranger hurt more-

Jason is in charlie’s crowd. He has a beer bottle in-between his fingers, but he's pulling at the collar of his shirt as he's looking at you, not the confident Jason who's been by your side, the one who ended every comment with "That's what she said" or a snort, comes to charlie’s side as he's talking to you, ranting to you, more like it, claps him on the shoulder, makes charlie jump.

"C'mon, charlie." Jason says, "Why don't you show me your guitar you were talkin' about? Or the motor. I could fix it, probably." Jason swings back his beer, takes it and chucks it into your recycling can, makes charlie hiccup again, must've lost his train of thought.

"Y-yeah?" charlie says gently, eyebrows squished together, looks so fucking confused, "T-the engine."

And Jason turns him, leads him by his shoulder, turning around to you with wide eyes, you mouth thank you and wait until he's out of sight to let your shoulders drop and wipe at your leaking eyes

#caroline writes #charlie slimesicle fanart #charlie slimecicile #charlie slimesicle x reader #slimecicle x y/n #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle x you #charlie slimecicle x y/n #slimecicle x you #slimecicle fic #slimecicle imagine #slimecicle x reader #slimecicle

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fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction · 11 months ago

Text

Job Results

Vanessa tries to hold herself and the household together while Sydney's gone, and gets to learn a little bit about who he was in the past.

Time Frame: Post Security Breach, simultaneous with Help Wanted 2, pre Ruin, Vanessa POV

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

The sunshine was warm and luxurious as Vanessa sighed happily, lounging in her beach chair with a fruity drink in hand. She could hear Gregory laughing some distance away, likely running around with Freddy and Alex chasing after him in play. This vacation was heavenly, just surf and sun and relaxation in her nice bathing suit, sweet drinks and flavorful snacks on hand for her to enjoy.

Other women lounging in similar chairs beside her chatted among themselves in cheerful tones. Every now and then the gossip rang of admiration and thinly veiled jealousy and Vanessa just smiled, sunglasses covering her eyes as she glanced their way. Very deliberately, she reached her free hand aside and ran the back of her fingers down the bare arm of the person lounging beside her.

“You’re taunting the other tourists with me again,” Sydney muttered with that laughing tone she liked to hear from him, “Also, you’re hogging the fish and chips.”

She couldn’t keep up the facade and laughed along, sliding the basket of snacks along the small table between them. “They make it so easy, can you blame me?” she asked, pushing her sunglasses up to look at him. She grinned at him rolling his eyes. This was nice, relaxing on the beach with Gregory and Freddy and Alex goofing off in safety and her best friend talking to her again. Everything was perfect.

“You have that dopey look on your face again,” Sydney pointed out before biting into a piece of crisp fish, one eyebrow raised at her. “If your face freezes like that, I’ll get the blame for it.”

“You said that already,” Vanessa told him, reaching up to thread her fingers into his hair. She liked it; she remembered it was soft and she had always wanted to run her fingers through it again.

“And I was probably right about it,” he said with a smug smile, eyes tracking the movement of her hand as she finally touched fingertips to him.

His hair crinkled in her grasp, like paper. That… wasn’t right.

Vanessa jolted awake, blinking away sleep and confusion as her fingers gripped the sheet of paper on Sydney’s side of the bed. He wasn’t there and for a minute she thought he was just using the bathroom or maybe he was getting an early start in making breakfast. But then why would there be this paper in his place?

She sat up, turning on the lamp on her bedside table and looking over the paper in her hands. A note, she recognized Sydney’s handwriting, a little lopsided as he tended to be rough with pens. She read it over, brow furrowed in concern, blinked, then read it again, more slowly. One more time to really let the words sink in and then she fumed, cheeks puffing up as her face grew hot.

What the hell?! Did he seriously say he was going to go and earn money but couldn’t say how or where for her own safety?! Did that mean that whatever he was doing wasn’t safe?! What the hell?!

“Sydney! You jerk, you’re not supposed to go off without telling me everything! I have your contract!” Vanessa yelled, “It’s in the manual! Subordinates report to their supervisor and I am your God! Damn! Supervisor!”

There were soft thumps from upstairs and she kicked off the comforter to get out of bed, shoving her feet into fuzzy slippers. She reached for her robe from where it was thrown over a chair, paused, then grabbed Sydney’s robe instead. It swallowed her in comparison but it was cold comfort at least.

Emerging from the bedroom to the rest of the house, Vanessa sighed at Gregory and Alex standing in the living room, waiting for her. They looked worried and Alex glanced past her towards the bedroom door. Made sense, he was more concerned about his brother than about her. Silently, she held out the note to him and he took it gingerly from her fingers to read.

“Oh, you idiot,” Alex breathed after a few moments, a look of dismay on his face that quickly made way for frustration, “Asshole, and after you gave me hell for just looking at how the job market there was doing.”

“You know what he’s doing?” Vanessa asked, glancing at the letter. The younger man sighed, running one hand through his hair as he looked away. It seemed like he was debating telling her anything and that annoyed her. “Don’t hide it from me. I still hold his contract so I’m still technically his supervisor and I can’t supervise him if he’s not here and I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing,” she told him firmly.

“That’s probably why he thought he could get away with it. Damned logic of his strikes again,” Alex grumbled, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “What do you know about reincarnation? The dead coming back to life in new bodies?” he finally asked.

“Oh, that’s what Vanny was gonna do to me and Vanessa in the Pizzaplex,” Gregory butted in, unsurprised, “Erased our memories so she could replace them with the memories of her dead relatives.”

Alex squinted at him and then nodded. “That’s one way to do it. A horrible way but definitely a way,” he acknowledged before looking back up at Vanessa, “The other way is to have the souls reborn into new lives. Most times without memory of the past, but if the Remnant in those souls went through alterations, then those memories have a chance to carry through too.” He waved Sydney’s letter with a faint scowl, “Sydney and me… we’re reincarnated Remnant. In our past lives we were mercenaries. Made a lot of money in the black market which we lost access to so we couldn’t use that to pitch in for the house.”

Vanessa sat down hard on the sofa, her thoughts racing back to the Pizzaplex. All the employees that would disappear over time, Sydney being pulled away from her by management for special operations to increase security around the Pizzaplex, his haunted expression on some days and the emptiness of his gaze whenever he disassociated on specific tasks; suddenly it all made sense. He’d been ‘hired’ by Fazbear Entertainment for those mercenary skills and then assigned as her bodyguard, to protect her until Vanny could use her body to resurrect her daughter. She pulled his robe tighter around herself to hide the shiver.

“So he went back out to be a mercenary again?” she asked, draping an arm around Gregory when the boy sat by her to offer comfort.

“Looks like it, but I don’t know how successful he’ll be at it,” Alex replied with a frown, reading over the note again, “Without his voice, his intimidation factor is gonna be at its lowest.” Vanessa tilted her head expectantly and he grimaced a little. “Sydney’s threat level came from a combination of his skill in observing people and learning about them, his screwy logic able to figure out hidden information about those people based on his observations, and his speaking skills in using that information to target people’s weaknesses,” Alex explained to her, “Combine that with his voice having this quality that makes it hard to ignore him, and you have someone capable of destroying someone’s whole mental state just by talking. That’s the Panther that terrified the merc world.”

“’Talking leads to trouble’,” Vanessa murmured, shaking her head, “Sydney always said that in the Pizzaplex, at least whenever I managed to get him to say more than a few words. Is that why he doesn’t speak at all now?” Alex shrugged.

“Maybe. Could be one of the reasons. Dunno really, since he won’t say why,” he huffed in frustration, “But ever since we remembered ourselves in this life, he’s been really afraid of how he talks to people and avoids looking into backgrounds and stuff so he doesn’t have information to work with.”

“Can we call him back?” Gregory asked, looking between him and Vanessa worriedly, “He can look scary but he’s actually kind of a pushover. What if the other mercenaries are dicks to him?” Alex shook his head.

“Too late for it now,” he sighed, folding his arms over his chest, “He would have left his phone and keys here for us and to keep identifying information away. If we did manage to get in contact, we’d just reveal ourselves as connected to him and that information can be used against him.” The frustrated look didn’t leave his face, “I was his partner in the past, his backup in the field. Covering his blind spots, keeping unknowns in check so he wouldn’t be threatened, stuff like that. Now he’s out there on his own. All we can do is hope he comes back.”

Vanessa swallowed, feeling her heart sink into her gut, a cold lump that made her stomach churn uncomfortably. There wasn’t anything they could do but try and move forward and, like Alex said, hope Sydney came home.

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

Freddy took over the bulk of the cleaning and cooking that Sydney used to do around the house. His cheerful hums as he padded around the house in a pink apron lightened the mood quite a bit. He helped Gregory with homework and had warm meals for Vanessa and Alex when they got home from work.

A few days after Sydney disappeared into the mercenary world, a diner called back to offer her a job as a waitress. She took it up and carpooled with Alex, getting dropped off in the morning and then picked up in the evening. The socializing was not her strong suit; she could put on a smile, take down orders and deliver food, but casual chatting to encourage people to stay and order more was outside her comfort zone. Her tips were okay, but she knew she could get more if she was just a little bit flirty or sweet like the other waiters and waitresses.

She couldn’t bring herself to try. It just wasn’t in her to pretend to flirt or be more social or extroverted.

Having Freddy take over a lot of the home duties relieved a lot of strain. Vanessa smiled at him more genuinely, patting his shoulder as she thanked him on her way to the bedroom to change. He wiggled his ears, mouth opening in his own version of a smile before returning his attention to Gregory and his pile of papers and textbooks.

After a shower and a change into home clothes, Vanessa felt more comfortable with herself again. She headed out and joined Alex in eating their late dinner at the kitchen island, quietly picking at the mashed potatoes and green beans. He fiddled with his phone, flicking the screen with his thumb as he stuck another forkful of food into his mouth. Odd, that wasn’t his usual phone.

“Did you buy a new phone?” Vanessa asked incredulously. Money was tight and he splurged on another phone?

“It’s a burner,” Alex replied curtly, “Cheap and easy to dispose of. It’d be stupid to do searches on my regular phone when I’m looking for any trace of Sydney.”

She watched him in confusion. “Don’t you usually use your computer?” she asked.

“Yeah, for passive searching, looking over websites on the surface and forums. Plus I secured my tech so I can defend against people trying to poke back at me,” Alex told her, flicking the screen again, “A burner is an easy way for me to actively hunt for Sydney cuz I can destroy it if it gets compromised.”

“Any luck?” Vanessa asked hopefully. Alex looked over at her with a wry grin.

“Well, so far I learned that he took his name back. Sort of,” he said and looked at the screen of his phone with that same grin, “There’s rumblings in the dark net of a ‘Pantera’ taking delivery jobs. Not the most glamorous or high paying of jobs, but if they get done fast and with packages delivered in optimal quality then there’s a good chance of bonus pay and your name gets recommended to other clients more.” He held the phone out to show her. “Someone managed to get a photo of him mid-delivery.”

Vanessa leaned forward to study the photo. There was Sydney, dressed in a black turtleneck, heavy vest, dark pants and sturdy boots, a silvery briefcase strapped to his back. Mid-leap over a gap between buildings, guns in both hands with one pointed behind himself and firing to discourage followers, the sharply focused expression on his face was a far cry from the more pathetic ones he used to have whenever he was told to attend special meetings back in the Pizzaplex. Sydney in the Pizzaplex gave reluctant follower vibes; Pantera oozed dangerous element in a world he belonged.

“Wow,” she said simply, blinking at the photo, “Was he like this in your past lives too?”

“Nah, handguns were more my thing and we didn’t do exclusively delivery jobs,” Alex replied, resuming his flicking of the screen, “Sydney liked heavier firearms and sometimes he used… uh, special weapons.” He grimaced and shook his head when she opened her mouth, “Don’t ask. It’s not up to me to tell you about that; ask him and maybe he’ll tell you.” He looked down at the screen again, “So far clients have been pretty happy with him, so he may be making good money. Unfortunately, that also means rivals will be more interested in taking him out.”

Which is probably why he left that note and didn’t take anything that would let people find out he had a family here. She could only hope that he found a stopping point and retreated home before someone got a lucky hit in. One other thing….

“Could I have a copy of that photo?” Vanessa asked and blinked innocently at the sharp look Alex gave her.

“Just friends, my ass,” he grumbled under his breath as he tapped at the screen of the burner phone. A ding sounded from Vanessa’s phone and she pulled it out to check the image texted to her.

“Yep, just friends,” she agreed, saving the photo to her album. Freddy made spicy steak for dinner, that’s why her face felt hot. Not her fault Alex wasn’t reacting the same way, he’s used to spicy food.

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

Waking up alone was saddening and she hated it. She hated how it made her feet drag in the mornings. Same as going to bed alone; there was no one there to laugh with her as they teased Gregory and Alex from downstairs or comfort her after a nightmare or talk to about plans for the pizzeria idea. She freshened up, dressed in her uniform and headed out to see if Freddy was already in the kitchen.

The smell of eggs and bacon wafted through the house and she checked out how everyone was doing in the kitchen. Gregory was already halfway through his breakfast and his expression grew worried the moment he laid eyes on her. Vanessa winced; she probably didn’t look as great as she had hoped she did. Alex sipped at his coffee, a new burner phone in his hand as he scrolled the screen.

“What happened to the other one? You only had it for three or four days,” Vanessa asked, sitting down and nodding in thanks to Freddy when he slid a plate of eggs and bacon across to her.

“Was getting traced so I took it to the overpass and dropped it into oncoming traffic,” the younger man replied, “Not seeing much new chatter about Pantera, good or bad. Gonna take that as a sign he’s gone dark to get himself out of that situation without being followed.”

“Where was he last seen?” Gregory asked, a hopeful look coming over him, “Does this mean he’s coming home?”

“Last successful job seemed to be somewhere around Las Vegas, so he’s not too far away,” Alex told him with a grin, “If his luck holds, he should show up by the end of the week.”

“End of the week,” Vanessa echoed in relief. Just a little longer, she could hold out a little longer. “Any more photos of him?” Alex gave her another suspicious look but it quickly melted away. She really wasn’t in the mood to play their game. Maybe he saw that on her face because he didn’t say anything, just flicked the screen a few times and then tapped a bit. Her phone dinged and she fished it out to see the texted photo.

There was Sydney in the same outfit as before, sitting on a wooden crate in the back of a military-style truck. He looked almost dusty overall, lightening his black hair and dark clothes. It also seemed like he wasn’t aware of whoever was taking the photo, scowling at some person dressed in an expensive looking suit pointing at the crate. He looked almost bored by the suit guy, and maybe a little annoyed, like if his time was being wasted. Vanessa chuckled a little, shaking her head.

“He looks like the time a couple of parents demanded a full refund of their Glam Chica Super Deluxe Party Package because the streamers weren’t ‘girl-colored’,” she said with a wobbly smile. She laughed, rubbing at one eye, “He asked me afterwards what counted as ‘girl-colored’. He was so confused! He looks adorable when he’s confused, like a big puppy.”

“I’m gonna hold that over his head,” Alex remarked, pointing at her with his coffee mug, “Never heard anyone call Sydney a puppy in either one of our lives.”

“He does tend to make an expression very much like a puppy when he is confused,” Freddy agreed, carefully packing sandwiches into the Glamrock Freddy lunchbox, “There you go, superstar! Have a Faz-errific day at school!” He held out the lunchbox for Gregory to take, patting the boy on the back when he threw arms around his waist in a hug.

“Thanks, Freddy! Bye, Vanessa! Bye, Alex! See you after school!” he declared and hurried off.

That was their cue to head off to their jobs. Vanessa rubbed her eyes to clear them and took a deep breath, clutching her phone with the photo of Sydney close to her. Just a few more days. They could do this.

She could do this.

Towards the end of the week, the world shook suddenly and frighteningly. It was her off day and she was spending it cleaning the living room, but the ground shaking under her feet made her legs wobbly. What was happening?!

“Vanessa! Take cover!” Freddy called out to her from the doorway to the laundry room. He braced himself in the entrance, twisted aside to press a shoulder to one edge while he gripped the other with his free hand.

She crawled to the coffee table and slid herself under it, curling up and covering her head with her arms. The shaking went on for who knew how long before finally fading away. She didn’t trust the world beyond the coffee table, staying underneath for shelter.

Soft thumps had her panic a bit, thinking the shaking was coming back, before recognizing them as Freddy’s footsteps. “Vanessa, the earthquake seems to have passed. You can come out now,” the animatronic bear told her quietly. “I will assess any damages to the house. Please check the news for any information about what just happened.”

The news, right. Vanessa pulled herself out from under the table carefully and then took a seat on the sofa, grabbing the remote and turning the television on. She watched in a daze as the news reported on the earthquake, the actual epicenter somewhere else and the town only getting the shockwaves further out from it. Weaker but still damaging enough that work had halted at the Pizzaplex. Vanessa blinked at the footage of construction equipment with the Fazbear Entertainment brand on them all lingered around the wrecked building, fresh debris falling from its face and walls.

“I think the Pizzaplex is being abandoned,” she finally said, looking up as Freddy approached her with a cup of tea for her to drink. His eyes went to the screen, watching the camera pan over their former home.

“Perhaps that is for the best,” he finally said, voice low and somber, “There are still things deep underground that are best left to sleep.” He sighed sadly, “I still wish we could save my friends.” Vanessa pat his hand comfortingly, clutching her tea for its soothing warmth.

Her phone rang a few moments later and she picked up. “Are you okay? It took me a bit to get everything settled here at the pizzeria before I could get away to call home,” Alex rattled off as soon as the call patched through. He sounded breathless, almost panicked.

“I’m alright, but what about you? You don’t sound good. Are you hurt?” Vanessa asked worriedly.

“No, not hurt, just…,” he replied shakily and took a deep breath to try and steady himself, “The shaking rattled some things and it sounded like… like… it’s so stupid, I thought I got over it.” So something traumatic? Alex almost sounded on the verge of tears. “So stupid. I wasn’t even near a computer this shift and the asshole kept me off my phone the whole time. He only let me call cuz he knew you needed to be checked on.”

“And you probably needed a distraction from whatever triggered you,” Vanessa added carefully. She could hear shaky breaths in the silence. “I checked the news to see what was going on. Looked like we were hit with some shocks from an earthquake further away,” she began reporting. Talking about different things tended to help her and Sydney during those moments where they needed to pull their minds back to the present, away from whatever was hurting them. Could work for Alex too. “There was also a side report that the shocks did damage to the Pizzaplex, so the company construction got put on hold. From the looks of it, I think Fazbear Entertainment is preparing to abandon the building.”

“That tends to be their M.O. with locations that get burned by the Guards,” Alex sighed, and the way he said the word gave it more importance in Vanessa’s ears. Not just guards, but Guards. What was different about them? Who were they? “They have other Pizzaplex locations for bringing in money, but this one had special attention put on it. Not sure why other than it was where they were holding you, Gregory, and Sydney.”

“There was a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place in almost perfect condition in a cave under the Pizzaplex. Does that help?” she offered.

“Huh. Was it burned? Fire damage?” Alex asked curiously. Vanessa made noises of affirmation, casting her mind back to the sealed metal doors, blackened furniture, and the smell of smoke and ash that lingered in the dining room. “That was probably Corbett’s previous pizzeria, the trap set up by her benefactor to destroy all the haunted animatronics and get rid of Afton. I remember Mrs. Afton throwing a bitch-fit about a pizzeria going up in smoke and threatening the Remnant of her daughter and father-in-law. The rest is fuzzy for me but I definitely remember that.”

“If they abandon the Pizzaplex, do you think it’d be safe to go back in, get to that underground pizzeria and make sure whatever was supposed to be destroyed in there actually stays down?” Vanessa asked and glanced over at Freddy. The animatronic was watching the television screen, eyes narrowed at the image of the Pizzaplex. “Maybe we’ll be able to get the Glamrocks’ programming chips while we’re in there.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Alex murmured and exhaled slowly, “Thanks.” She just smiled, warmth and pride curling up inside her.

“Anytime. Take care, see you when you get home,” she told him and waited until he confirmed her words before ending the call. “Guess we’re not done with the Pizzaplex after all,” Vanessa told Freddy.

“I almost wish we were,” Freddy muttered in a low tone, “I don’t want to put you back in that woman’s crosshairs.” She blinked at him; that was a different manner of speech than what Freddy usually used. He noticed her staring and wiggled his ears, looking sheepish. “Ah, my apologies, Vanessa! My former identity must have risen to the surface for a moment there. I will strive to remain myself from here on, though it is very difficult when I am aware that Vanny is still free somewhere.”

“Y’know, I thought I’d finally be able to live a normal life outside of the Pizzaplex when it all went up in smoke down there,” Vanessa sighed in exasperation, “but it just feels like things are getting crazier instead! Ah, I really miss Sydney….”

“I am sorry, Vanessa. We just have a few more days to wait.”

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

Vanessa hummed to herself, looking over the two photos in her phone while she waited for Alex to pick her up from work. She was considering leaving the job; between the tips and her paycheck, she wasn’t making enough to replenish their savings against how much was spent to keep the household running. Maybe if she followed up with the other applications she put out she could get a better job.

The end of the week had come and gone. Alex had stared out of the window at the street for what felt like ages before uttering a shuddering sigh and going upstairs. Gregory had watched him go, pieces of an animatronic arm in his hands that he’d been working on. He then looked at Vanessa, concern on his face.

“Maybe Sydney just needs another day to come home? Like maybe there’s a lot of traffic, or he missed a flight?” he suggested. Vanessa had just given him a sad smile and tried not to wonder if she’d lost a friend.

She drew away from those memories as the car pulled up to the curb and cleared her screen, tucking those photos back into her album for later. Taking her seat in the car, she greeted Alex and glanced around for the burner phone. “Tossed that one too?” Vanessa finally asked when she couldn’t see it.

“Yeah. There still wasn’t any new movement from Pantera, so holding onto it was becoming more risky without any reward,” he replied, pulling away from the diner and turning them towards home. He mimed tossing a phone forward. “To the overpass it went!”

Vanessa laughed a little at the gesture. “Why there? It’s gonna hit a windshield someday, you know?” she pointed out with a grin.

“Don’t jinx me!” he complained, “It’s a good guarantee of destroying the phone itself after I flushed the sim cards.”

They made small talk as he drove them back to their house, what bills needed to be paid, what to make for dinner, when was Freddy’s next scheduled maintenance, the usual. Vanessa told him about her thoughts on quitting the waitress job to search for another and Alex offered to talk to his cousin about taking her on as the night watch. The current night guards were there as a favor to his cousin but being on that shift was putting a strain on their day schedules that was becoming harder to balance. The job listing was recently put up, Vanessa had missed it by taking the diner’s call back and not checking the new pages in the newspaper.

“Knowing the shitty pay Fazbear Entertainment tends to give their night guards, Corbett will probably pay better rates,” Alex added and rolled his eyes, “Also, the animatronics were built and programmed by Fitzgerald; they won’t turn murderous at night since they have a proper shutdown sequence and Circus Baby goes home with my cousin anyway.”

“Why are you so salty with that man?” Vanessa laughed, “The way you talk, it’s like he spat in your coffee one day or something!” Alex just made a face at the description, gaze still mostly on the road.

“Long story short, my dad in my previous life ruined his dad’s life and I was a control freak who felt threatened by Fitzgerald having a way of controlling the animatronics I felt belonged to me so we immediately had a mutual hate,” he replied and shrugged at her expression of disbelief. “It’s a one-sided rivalry at this point, but it keeps me sharp in keeping up with coding,” he dismissed with a flip of a hand, “Now if you want someone who really holds a grudge against someone and is out for blood, just look at my cousin Corbett. Her abuela called a blood feud against the Afton Family sixty-something years ago and Corbett just picked up where she left off and kept it going.”

Vanessa thought back to the ‘Knife Lady’ Gregory showed her, the spirit’s unholy rage towards anything bearing the Afton name, and the similarities in her features to the owner of Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties. “Your family is kind of terrifying, no offense,” she finally admitted.

“And yet, we’re still nobodies compared to the Schmidts,” Alex muttered with a shudder, “Mike Schmidt was not somebody you could run up against and win, not even with a stacked deck. Kinda sucks he passed away some time back, we could have really used his strength in the Pizzaplex.” He cut himself off, an alarmed look on his face as he pulled up to their house, “Hey, what’s that by our door?!”

Vanessa leaned forward to peer through the windshield while he idled at the entrance to their driveway, unwilling to go any further. There was a figure slumped by the door to their house. Wait, she recognized that pathetic huddle….

“Oh my god,” she breathed and rushed to get out of the car. She raced over the front yard, ignoring Alex’s yell for her to wait as he finished pulling into the driveway. Getting closer, Vanessa could recognize black hair pulled into his typical ponytail, the tropical tourist shirt and blue jeans were new, and there was a large backpack resting nearby that looked typical of a college student traveling.

He was home. He was finally home!

Vanessa dropped to her knees by him as Sydney stirred and opened his eyes, blinking sleepily up at her. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to yell at him for being away for so long or not and eventually just threw herself at him to hug him. He grunted, falling over from the force of her lunge, but he hugged her back gingerly. She pulled away a little, worried. That sounded like it hurt. She put a hand to his chest, squinting as she pressed a little and he made a wheezing sound, wincing under the pressure.

“Are you hurt? Did you get beat up while you were gone?!” Vanessa demanded. He just stared up at her, eyes wide, before wincing again at drops of water splashing onto his face. Well, he could tough out her crying if he could run around Las Vegas in the back of a military truck!

“Sydney! The fuck?! You told me off for looking at the black market forums and then you run off to be a merc again?!” Alex yelled, rushing in to kneel beside her, his face red with teary frustration, “Asshole! At least take me with you for backup!”

“You didn’t answer me! I’m your supervisor! Are you hurt?! Do we need to get you to a hospital?!” Vanessa pulled Sydney’s attention back. He kept looking between them, apologetic expression on his face. She didn’t want an apology right now, she wanted answers! She very lightly pressed her hand against his chest again, pursing her mouth at the wince and hiss she pulled from him with the motion. “Well?” she demanded.

“Wait, lemme get my phone,” Alex muttered, reaching for his back pocket. He held it up, tapping at the screen. “Alright, go ahead.”

Sydney gave him a suspicious look but raised his hands and signed carefully. “/Bruised ribs. I’m just sore. Don’t worry,/” the phone translated his signing into stilted speech.

“Based on activity on the dark net, you should have been back days ago,” Alex told him with a scowl, “What the hell took you?! I thought you were…!” He bit his lip, hand raising to cover his face. Vanessa moved aside to give Sydney space to sit up and pull him into a hug for comfort.

“/I had to make a stop to resupply one of my personal stashes,/” he signed after a bit, the phone’s artificial voice a bit jarring to hear. It just made Vanessa wish to hear Sydney’s voice again even more. “/The bruising was from my last client. They had a special interest in me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Traded my bruised ribs for their broken face./”

“They can’t have you. I’m the one holding your contract,” Vanessa told him flatly, arms folding over her chest. He just looked at her with the same wide and innocent look, hands spread.

“That’s what I said!” the expression said and she cracked a small grin at being able to understand him while Alex poked at his phone, grumbling at the lack of translating of those movements.

They finally let him up, Sydney leaning on Alex for support while Vanessa picked up his backpack and unlocked the door, letting them all inside. With Freddy at the workshop for general maintenance, no one was home to make dinner. Alex helped Sydney relax on one of the sofas to rest more comfortably while Vanessa ordered delivery to bring ready made meals. Gregory would be home soon and no one was really in a mood to cook while they had yet to pull answers out of Sydney about where he went and what he had been doing.

“I just did delivery jobs. Check savings, I had to make all new accounts to funnel money through so it wouldn’t be traced,” he signed. He paused for a bit, seeming to think things over before signing again. “I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. Didn’t expect to be missed; my focus was just on getting the money to make things easier on everyone,” he admitted and offered a sheepish smile in apology. Alex punched him in the shoulder, making him scowl in offense instead.

“Everything I did to keep you with me, with our Remnant falling apart and you fading in my hands, and you really thought I wouldn’t give a shit if you vanished on me like that?” he grumbled, “Idiot. You’re my brother! I’m always going to miss you, that’s why I always want to help you when you’re in trouble!”

Vanessa also gave his shoulder a punch, softer but still her own. “My first memory is waking up to you watching over me,” she began roughly. Her tears were welling up again, and she could feel them spilling out as she trembled. “Who I was before, my life before that moment, that’s all gone and it doesn’t matter. From that moment on, I have always, always had you by my side through everything. You’re my best friend, my only friend for the longest time,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his shoulder, “And I was so scared I was going to lose you to that world. Don’t do that again! ...Please.”

He didn’t sign anything else, just let them both cling to him for comfort, reassured by the physical contact that he was there, he was okay, and he wouldn’t be leaving again. They didn’t pull apart until the door opened to let Gregory in, the boy holding the delivery bags in one hand.

“Hey, why did we order takeout? Didn’t Freddy come back from the shop yet?” he called out as he stepped into the living room. His eyes widened as Vanessa looked over at him. “He’s home! I told you he was just late!” he exclaimed, setting the bags down on the coffee table, “And you guys didn’t believe me. Bet you feel real dumb now!”

“Yeah, yeah, come hug him with us, twerp,” Vanessa returned affectionately, reaching out to help pull the boy into the group hug, “Mind his ribs, he’s healing up from getting out of that stupid mess.”

“Oh yeah? Does this hurt?” Gregory asked, poking at one spot of Sydney’s torso. The man winced and made noises about it. “Does this hurt?” Gregory poked a different spot and got the same wince and noises, “Does this-?”

“Gregory, I think that whole area hurts,” Vanessa sighed, reaching out to push his hand down before he could poke at some other sore spot. “Let’s just eat before the food gets cold.”

They passed around the little packages of Chinese takeout while Alex retrieved his laptop and browsed through it. He hummed thoughtfully between mouthfuls of spicy chicken and fried rice, then set the laptop down on the coffee table for everyone to see. Vanessa recognized the website as the bank where their collective savings were held in a family account. She and Sydney and Alex had individual accounts for personal use, but they all chipped in money to the collective to run the household, pay for expenses for the house, and potentially save up to start a restaurant like Gregory had suggested.

She chewed on her noodles while staring at the page, seeing but not understanding why Alex brought it up now. “That’s a big number,” Gregory commented offhandedly, “Did we get dessert with this or can I just get ice cream from the freezer?”

“Don’t fill up too much or you won’t finish it all before we have to go pick up Freddy,” Vanessa told him and looked back at the page again. Big number? And then she realized she was staring at the amount of money in the collective account. Her fork fell out of her hand into her food as she gaped at the number of zeroes on display. She turned her stunned expression to Sydney, and he froze in place, forkful of spicy chicken halfway to his open mouth, looking like he wasn’t sure if he was in trouble or not. “How many jobs did you do to get two million dollars in the savings account?!” she demanded in a voice that cracked with how high it reached.

He made an evasive motion with one hand, shrugging lamely before hurriedly going back to eating. Vanessa squinted back at him, mouth pursed, and he seemed to shrink under her stare. She finally relented after a minute and sighed. Well, wouldn’t really do them any good now. He did the jobs and they had the money, so now what do they do?

“I suppose we should start looking for a place to open a restaurant and get a license to run a business,” Vanessa remarked and smiled at Sydney’s pleased expression, “Thank you for everything, but let’s not have you running off again to play mercenary anymore.” She sharpened her grin, poking at his cheek, “You’re going to be the daytime security for this place when we get it up and running. That should keep you in my sights!”

“Freddy gets a stage to sing on! I’m calling it for him!” Gregory announced, walking back to his seat on the couch with his bowl of ice cream. Amazingly, he did as Vanessa said and only served himself a couple of scoops, enough to satisfy but not so much he’d have leftovers to waste. She found it a bit odd that he seemed to know how to measure out food for himself so that he’d have enough to get by for the day without feeling like he didn’t eat enough or leaving anything behind to be ‘wasted’. Possibly a skill he developed from living on his own inside the Pizzaplex and scavenging for meals.

“You guys have fun planning competition for Corbett,” Alex declared, getting up to head for the stairs, “I’m gonna get changed and then hop on the dark net to make sure Sydney’s tracks are fully covered.” He lightly smacked his brother upside the head as he walked by, earning a light scowl back, “That’s for running off without me to back you up, pendejo. You’re not running as Panther anymore, but you still need some kind of Router.”

Vanessa watched him leave and turned back to the man still digging through his container of takeout. “And you’re okay? Really okay?” she asked seriously, searching his face for any tells.

Sydney paused in his scraping the carton and simply looked into it. A familiar stance; Vanessa waited for him to work through what he wanted and was willing to ‘say’. Eventually, he slowly lowered his hand from his fork to very carefully wrap fingers around her hand, lightly gripping it and giving the slightest of squeezes. She held her breath through the movement, eyes still fixed on his expression. If she looked away, if she blinked, she’d miss his ‘words’ and never know his thoughts.

Finally, he looked over at her and managed a small, sad smile, a little sheepish, a little wistful, but sad eyes all the same. So, not hurt, but not fully okay either. He was a little hard to read.

“Did you… like being a mercenary again?” Vanessa asked, thinking back to those two photos she had. Pantera looked like he fit right in in that world, among dangerous people and weapons and far off places and illegal wealth. That sheepish little smile stayed in place, but now he also looked a little afraid. Did he think she’d judge him? Well, she’d judge him for running off to do it with just a note on his pillow instead of telling her himself. “Can’t say I’m jumping for joy over what you did, sneaking off while I was asleep and not even giving us a chance to help you,” she admitted with a sigh, rolling her eyes, “But you seemed to be more… you? I think? I don’t know how to explain it.” Vanessa tilted her head, studying her friend carefully. “Like you got back something that was taken away from you a long time ago,” she finally said quietly. She let a small smile grow at Sydney’s surprised blink. “Yeah. You were missing part of yourself, this Panther identity Alex talked about, but you remade it for who you are now,” she went on with a nod, “So, Pantera, feeling a bit more whole?”

Sydney grinned at her and she laughed, weight lifting from her heart and shoulders as everything settled back into place. Her little makeshift family forged of friends was back together. That’s all she wanted, for them to be together again, safe and sound, away from Vanny and that awful creation under the Pizzaplex that had dug its voice into her head and almost locked her back into the dark box inside her mind. Now they could look towards the future and build this new restaurant to provide for them.

“Are you guys gonna start making out? Cuz I need to know before you make me puke my ice cream and waste it,” Gregory declared in a flat and unimpressed voice, holding his empty bowl in his hands and staring at them with a pout.

“We’re not getting into this again, twerp!” Vanessa countered while Sydney just set his carton of food down to facepalm in reaction, “Are you done? Put your bowl in the sink and we’ll go get Freddy from the shop.”

“This is censorship! I’m being denied life-saving information!” Gregory announced at the top of his lungs as he walked away to the kitchen, “Cooties are a real threat to guys everywhere!”

Vanessa briefly wondered if she could use some of that collective money to go on a real vacation, or at least have a spa day to cope with being mom to such a little punk of a kid. Oh well. Tomorrow would be another day.

“By the way,” she added casually, “if you run off like that again without telling me, you’ll regret it.” She finished her words in a sing-song tone, glancing over at Sydney and grinning at his wide-eyed stare at her, his face an interesting shade of red. Good, maybe that’ll keep him from disappearing on them in the future. She was going to need all hands on deck to make sure this restaurant idea didn’t fail and drag them all down with it. Whatever gets results, right?

#fnaf fanfiction #fnaf au #parlourverse au #fnaf vanessa #fnaf gregory #glamrock freddy #herrera brothers

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moon-b1ade · 2 years ago

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disconnection

I think I want to talk about how difficult it is for me to connect with other people.

When I was little, around five, I always wondered why I was so different from other kids. I often found myself praying to God, asking him to let me wake up as a different person. I don't think I was capable of feeling hate for myself at five, but I was pretty damn close. I wanted every life but my own, I wanted every family but my own, I wanted to be everyone but myself. I wanted Freaky Friday to be real. As I started getting older, the reality set in that I would never be anyone but myself. I would always be me.

I've always felt a disconnection with myself. I almost feel like I'm playing a video game controlling a character. Sometimes I'm watching a movie with no way to control what's going on. I just make decisions about things without knowing why and without a thought behind my head.

At the same time, though, I'm always so observant of the world around me. I always notice when the wind is blowing or when the sun gets a little brighter or when the air is thicker. I am always aware of the feeling of my shirt on my skin and of the way my socks are twisted on my feet and of the way my hair is laying on my neck. I always flinch at noises that are too loud or too high-pitched.

Despite all of these things, at seventeen years old, I have no idea how to socialize. Small talk is a mystery to me. I don't understand talking about the weather or the way my day is going or how I slept last night. Why is it important? We've both been outside. I'm not dead so I'm obviously doing alright. We both sleep.

Small talk is just the tip of the iceberg, though. I often find myself telling the same joke over and over because I think it's funny, but apparently it gets less funny with time. I laugh at things that aren't jokes and I don't laugh at jokes. I tell jokes that sound like insults. Nobody ever knows when I'm being sarcastic. Thankfully I have a few friends that understand this but It's still so hard to make new friends. I don't know when it's my turn to speak, I don't know what to say, and I don't know how to say it.

My parents are constantly on me about the tasks I have to complete. They tell me it needs to be routine, but its just not in my routine. I do them if they tell me. "this task needs done" is just telling me it needs done. In the back of my mind, I know it means they want me to do it, but they still don't tell me when or why or in what manner. Sometimes I ask them serious questions or why they're upset or why they think something and I just get yelled at. "It's not what you say it's how you say it" is a sentence that comes out of my mother's mouth every time. I don't ever know how I sound. I try and try and try to sound respectful but apparently I'm just bad at it.

My boyfriend takes the shittiest end of this stick. We've been dating for over a year, so he's somewhat used to the way I operate, but that doesn't make it any easier. He always wants to hear how my day is, but I prefer to talk about how the texture of my shirt made me feel. He wants to know how I slept, but I prefer to talk about how thick the air was today. He tells me good morning, and I'm already upset because it took me 32 minutes to get to school instead of 28. I love him, but I often find myself disconnected with him. The ways normal people feel connected- physical touch, small talk, repetitive "I love you's"- they are often repulsive to me. Communication for me is direct and I often sound rude. Until my shirt bothers me just too much, then I can't bear to speak at all. Sometimes I make him cry and I feel so confused I don't know what to say.

I just wish I was anyone but myself.

#connection #socializing #texture #blog #blogger #blog post #blogging #blogpost #writing #writer #writeblr

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thegaynessarchives · 1 year ago

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youtube

Made a thing (my interpretation of lyrics below cut pls read them they took so fucking long to do)

Lyrics (this took me literally three hours pls appreciate this):

Pink long nade I'm an autumn but coats bomber

Peter plum my ballers man daughter's ring us growing

She alana these god love me like me

But bein honest I don't wanna yo eeee

I can yell about cuts, buzz cooling off your dingers

Now's telling up a golden meme, a meven and stingers

There's a thing, range endings, there theft, gift of luck

And now I'm aberrant and burrows fat

Pretty wood habits, fire every bet, nose, body, no bed, hose, body, every bone

Didn't buddies, every bliss, piss buddies

Din misses, hi friss friss, smurfs, crying, no, whistle, tone, wind, wind, dee us

They become laid itchablong with me, whiff

Then maybe horroreen at night, you beef

You when what's around, we fight, dong with me, whiff

Then could you time around, tell me I fuck you? preef

Baby, come lay itchiblong with me, whiff

Baby will wreathe at night with you beef

Then when what's around, we fight, dong with me, biff

Witchy titchy town, tell me, hell me, jilk if I'm salad pretty

Think of wrath, words, red blinds, why if dimples?

I think it's that when future be the futon when they pimple things were

Schizo or yeet your chank fof

Lou didja bam a ee? Or tweet, you stay tough

Outwitted, if if it fell, then dick, we went sofa deenafed catch it

You can carry, not good, different bodies, Eddie b oh a patch

Buddy, look at feather pockets, so they'll bam me

Way down, that's what wondering, til the end, if we'll fester all day

Is we play we back, nose, not even a bad nose

Thought he met me with my dollar buddies, act dismiss damn

Yeah, and this is my fist pissed first

Catterton, lost to be loved, and busy now

Baby, come lay, itchiblong with me, whiff

Baby doll reeeeing wool that bite you, weef

When we bust hoot out, we'll find dome with me, whiff

Could you time around? Tell me, I fuck you creep

Babygirl lay, itchiblong with me, whiff

Baby doll, reeee hurt at night, you, weef

And we whats hoot out, you'll find dung with me, whiff

Itchy twitchy town

Tell me, tell me, still, if I'm salad pluty

Walking with a scone legs, breaks and set sun

Ease small brown, lost your punch to cool

With the new tears, warmer, move, groove

Or stew, don't use sins, what's that?

sneeze

Those two need seats, bleed, and know eats a

Sequins, dream at pigeons, flower, fair your

Guess I fear and look tiara

Deadly sack to paint sedra, BOOB, every

Ready body, know that, knows nut in every bad

Oh, slutty suckerfish, like, nah, like, fuck you BBPT

This is my friend, this is her stem

Think, any, my bin, missus first, every

Think, anybody, know that, knows buddy every many

Ghost daddies every wrong teen lies

Maz biz, wife and misses first, I break their no ring

I'll now actly vicious

Baby chin finish, itchiblong yo lay it

Baby, with, me, with, that, right, goal reeee ith

Ow and, Q, if I'm wrong, what's it out with?

Could you to me tell me life ow row free

Baby ghh you, could you blonga lay with

Baby, with me with, that, light, go reeee whiff

After you brought a gun to death stin

Could you to me, tell me help me, who'd you tell, oh

Go what so tell me would you tall the bowl that's round with

sneeze

We got to die, let's reee pew I,

sneeze

We'll dawn above, let's round with, but just oh, me

And his height, let's do light

You

Wou gee conga, lay with baby

Hey with that right, no reeeee, lift

After hear all of thought with deaths with goochy

Ee, tell me, tell me,

Could you cow how

Could you, could you tell me? e

#not tma #jfc what am I doing with my life #will wood #the normal album #well better than the alternative #beats 2 and 4 switched meme #pls watch it I spent too long on this shit #Youtube

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sweetfushi · 7 months ago

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HOW THEY REALISED THEY WERE ATTRACTED TO YOU PT 1

fluff | tetsuro kuroo, kei tsukishima, wakatoshi ushijima x reader, fluff, you almost get hit with the ball (thanks yaku), reader is suggested to be short(er). ◦ notes. part two here.

TETSURO KUROO.

He started becoming quieter, almost conscious of what he said around others.

Nekoma watches as their captain almost moves in a daze, his eyes fixated on a certain girl on the bleachers, writing something and tucking her hair behind her ear every so often. Yaku had been the first to notice a few days ago during one of their practice matches, brow furrowed and lips pursed as Kuroo observed his younger sister. Although you were only younger by a year, making you a second year while Yaku and Kuroo third years, your brother was highly protective of you.

“She’s so pretty,” Kuroo murmurs, tossing the ball up and catching it repeatedly as he continues to gaze at you. He had said few words this match, albeit his smart remarks still made their presence. However, Kenma had to snap him out of a few daydreams while Lev had waved his big hands in his face, yelling “Yoohoo!”

Kuroo had deadpanned at that.

As the game continues, he watches as Yaku saves the ball but also causes it to fly over and almost hit you, making you yelp and cover your head. Kuroo almost chokes on his own breath.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Yaku rushes out, face pinched in concern as he jogs over to where you sit with an unimpressed expression. Kuroo watches momentarily as the libero withstands your discipline and light slap to his head, before - as no one else seemed to do so - rushing up the bleacher stairs and snatching the ball up.

“You sure you don’t wanna sit higher up?” Kuroo suggests, watching it take you a moment to register that he’s talking to you. Your eyes lock and his breath hitches, lips parting as he watches you smile sheepishly and gather your notes in your arms. “That probably would be a good idea,” you giggle and thank him for his concern, moving to sit closer to the doors but not before shooting Yaku one last glare.

The libero pouts and apologises again.

Kuroo composes himself and fiddles with the ball before starting to make his way back down to the court.

“Hey, wait.” He freezes in place at the sound of your voice, turning to face you with inexplicable anticipation (for what, he wasn’t sure himself). He finds himself smiling as you do, watching as you nod towards the ball in his hand. “I will throw that ball out the window if it reaches me again,” you raise a brow, your warning teasing and (largely) unserious.

Kuroo snorts, nodding. “Noted.”

KEI TSUKISHIMA.

You became the person he talks to the most.

He hadn’t abandoned Yamaguchi at all, but even the green-haired man notices Tsukishima’s developing interest in you. You seemed more academic than the blond, opting to spend your time between classes in the library or the local cafe, but lately you had allowed him to distract you with his smart remarks and invitations to random days out. This time, he wanted you to help him practise.

“I’m not going easy on you,” you mumble, still shoving your books in your bag as you walk alongside him. He rolls his eyes and smacks the top of your head with the packaged strawberry shortcake slice he insists on having daily.

Once you get to the green field beside the school’s gym, he becomes insufferable.

“What happened to not going easy on me?” He grins, watching you chase after the ball for a second time.

You groan and almost much too aggressively throw a rock at him, one he easily avoids. You hate admitting it, but you are just as competitive as he is, so you don’t let his teasing demotivate you.

“I’m going to serve this ball in your damn face,” you huff, hitting the ball again. This time, Tsukishima is focused on his plays, following the ball carefully and analysing your every move.

By the time you’re done, three hours have passed and the sun is barely hanging in the sky. You’re sweating and panting, Tsukishima slouched against a wall as he too catches his breath. Neither one of you breaks eye contact so you’re not oblivious to the way he lets his eyes roam over you. You don’t hesitate to do the same.

“I shouldn’t have eaten that cake,” he huffs, “I’m gonna puke.”

You burst out laughing at his whimpers. He takes a few moments to hydrate himself before inhaling deeply and glaring at you.

“I hope your stomach hurts so bad that you can’t sleep tonight,” he almost pouts - so uncharacteristic of him (also hoping that you stay up to text him).

“If you’re done being petty,” you push your hair back and wipe yourself down with a small towel, “I was thinking we can go get some food, maybe help that little upset stomach of yours.”

You almost scream when he throws his sweaty towel at you.

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

He starts to ask about you.

He’s walking out of school with the rest of the team, waiting outside a local store as Tendo and Goshiki spend half their life savings on snacks they’ll likely forget about. Ushijima is checking the news and simultaneously listening to Ohira talk about how he’s trying out a new regime at the gym, until he hears Semi on the phone with someone. He glances up at him, hoping to hear your voice, but turns back to his phone when he doesn’t.

After about ten minutes of yelling at Tendo and Goshiki to hurry up before their banks question their hefty transactions, they all start heading home again.

“How’s your sister?” Ushijima asks bluntly, catching Semi’s surprised expression in his peripheral vision. The setter hesitates before nodding. “She’s fine.”

An awkward silence dawns on the duo.

“I thought there would be more to that conversation,” Semi laughs, staring up at his seemingly unfazed captain. Ushijima hums.

Again, the silence becomes deafening.

“Is she still working in that new firm downtown?” Ushijima asks. “I remember you said that she was excited about getting her own office.”

Semi nods, brow furrowed in confusion. “I told you that about two months ago, do I wanna know how or why you still remember that?” The two then look at each other with seemingly apathetic expressions, although Semi has a feeling that Ushijima isn’t asking out of the kindness of his own heart. He doesn’t mention it though, instead says his goodbyes to the others as they all part ways - except for him and Ushijima.

Although Semi isn't too keen on letting you invest time into boys seeking nothing but someone they can manipulate for their own benefit, he knows that Ushijima is nothing like that. Though, he's not sure how the captain would even go about approaching you considering his and your busy schedules.

"Do you... want her number?" Semi initiates what Ushijima seemed hesitant to mention.

"Please."

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #kuroo x reader #tsukishima x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles

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catherineoconn · 9 months ago

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Script (Beach Trip)

Scene 1

(Conlan and Henry are in Conlan’s truck with their surf boards in the bed.)

Conlan: Hen, did Evie say when she’d be ready?

Henry: Uhh 10. I think. (scrolling on his phone)

Conlan: What are you looking at?

Henry: My dad’s texting me. Him and my mom are fighting again.

Conlan: What’s it about this time?

Henry: My dad forgot my mom’s birthday. Again. He think’s she’s being dramatic. She think’s he doesn’t care about her. I am stuck being the middle man yet again.

Conlan: I’m sorry man. At least you won’t be in the house tonight. Turn your phone off. It shouldn’t be your problem.

Henry: I know. Wanna grab some food before we get her?

Conlan: Yeah, Hank’s Burgers?

Henry: Sure.

Scene 2

Henry and Conlan stand on the porch of Evie’s home.

Conlan: I had the strangest dream last night. We were on the road and stopped in a small town and I got married. I don’t remember to whom, but I know we had an Elvis impersonator as our officiant at the wedding.

Henry: You are so weird. Every time I go back to school, I think I forget just how strange you are.

Evie enters holding her own surfboard.

Evie: Hello boys!

Conlan: Let’s go I want to make it there by sunset. (Evie hands her board to Henry and the three of them pile into Conlan’s truck)

Henry: You miss us while you were at your posh ivy league school?

Evie: Oh, shut up Henry. Yes, you know I missed you guys. All the boys at Brown have cooties!

Conlan: We have a long drive ahead of us.

Evie: Why are we going all the way to Maine? We literally live on a beach. Couldn’t we have surfed at home?

Conlan: Because Popham is having a huge storm right now, by the time we get there, the waves will put our waves to shame.

Henry: Wanna play a game to pass the time?

The three-play random road trip games as they drive to Maine for Northern New Jersey

Conlan: Are you kidding me! (Conlan kicks the flat tire on the left side of his truck)

Evie: We are only an hour out. We could call a cab or something.

Henry: Our boards wouldn’t fit.

Conlan: That was a dumb suggestion Ev.

Evie: Well at least it was an idea. You’ve just been yelling about how mad you are for 15 minutes.

Conlan: (Yelling)Yes, I am mad. This was supposed to be the best day of the summer. Perfect waves. Surfing with my two best friends and it was ruined by this god damn tire! (Kicks the tire again)

Henry: Let’s start walking, maybe there will be a mechanic in town. We can get the tire changed and go.

Evie: Yeah Con, we still have like two hours till sunrise. We can make it.

Conlan: I can’t leave the truck. The locks broke in April.

(A passing car pulls over)

Girl: You guys need help?

Evie: We have a flat but no jack. Any chance you have one?

Girl: I think I might, in the trunk! (She runs to the back of her car and pulls out a car jack)

Conlan: You are our savior!

Girl: No, just a girl living in the world. (She laughs)

They change the tire and continue on the road. They drive for an hour. They arrive just as the sun begins to rise.

Conlan: We made it. Would you look at that sunrise.

Evie: It is so beautiful!

Henry: Let’s get in the water. The waves look perfect.

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crappymixtape · 2 years ago

Text

endless summer

steve’s pool is always full during the indiana summers and he loves his friends, but he just wants you • *18+ only | ( 2.8k, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E N D L E S S S U M M E R 🎶 i would die 4 u, art school girlfriend

“Hey, hey. None of that shit in my pool!” Steve was standing on the deck with a hand on his hip, arm waving about as he yelled at Dustin and Lucas who were dragging a half-empty pizza box closer to the edge of the pool.

“We’re hungry!” Dustin protested indignantly.

“Yeah, so hungry,” Lucas added, still dragging along the pizza box slowly as if Steve wouldn’t catch him.

“No, no, no. Get that outta here,” Steve was already around the other side of the pool and snatching the box away from Lucas’ grabby hands, tossing it up onto the patio table. “Children,” he shook his head at both younger boys.

Whatever, was mumbled back to Steve followed by a couple of hidden middle fingers, but the heat was enough to stall any real arguing and before long everyone slipped back into the cool water, lazily floating in the hot Indiana summer.

No one knew what day of the week it was, you only knew when you had to work next – not today – and time didn’t matter. All anyone wanted to do was spend time with each other, normal time, not running-away-from-flesh-eating-bats-time, and it felt perfect. You wished you could stay like this forever.

Stretched out on a lounger, you were the picture of summer wearing a tangerine bikini, a stolen pair of Steve’s aviators, and camped out next to a cooler full of beer and Coke. Whenever you felt your skin protesting against the sun you’d jump into the pool to cool off, but hurried right back to your chair after.

Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will had spent most of the day trying to shove Max and El in the water, but were thwarted almost every time. I mean, c’mon, it’s El. Like she could’t sense it? Robin and Eddie found their little patch of shade under the only tree in the backyard and passed a joint back and forth until their eyes were glassy and heavy, lips permanently curved into lazy smiles. And Steve? Well. What Steve wanted to be doing and what he was actually doing were two very different things.

He couldn’t help his lifeguard instincts around the pool, sniping at the kids over all kinds of shit – out of love, obviously – but every single time he turned away it was to look at you.

You. Wearing his sunglasses. Your tangerine bikini hugging your curves just right, not leaving much to the imagination. The scent of your coconut sunscreen and citrus shampoo mixed with chlorine and Cherry Coke teasing him every time he walked by, it was almost painful.

Then, finally, the others hauled themselves out of the pool, tired from the heat and shoving each around and playing chicken and summer. You grinned watching as Mike and Lucas both sleepily settled their heads into El’s and Max’s laps atop their towels. Dustin and Will were off talking about Suzie and their next D&D campaign. And Robin and Eddie…well. They were there, but not there, and Steve had picked up the pool net to scoop out the few stray bits of crap the others had dragged into the water.

God. It was like he existed for summer. Like he was made for it. His skin all golden, kissed by the sun and dotted in freckles. Hair, just a touch lighter than it was in the winter, hanging across his dewy forehead. The muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing as he pushed and pulled the pool net through the water. Turquoise swim shorts dripping water, plip plip plip on the patio, clinging to his legs. Sunglasses perched on his head so that he couldn’t hide it if he snuck glances of you over there wearing his aviators.

You could feel his gaze wander up your long legs, your thighs, the soft curve of your hips, that damn tangerine top. And when you lifted a hand to take off your glasses, the grin you gave him was almost cruel. “Looking for something, Harrington?” you called across the patio.

Despite his tanned skin, the flush that rose in his cheeks could be seen from where you were sitting. “What?” fell out of his mouth, dumb in the summer sun, and he propped himself up against the pool skimmer, clearly caught. But then he recovered, just so very Steve. “Just admiring the view,” he gave you a grin of his own and it was your turn to blush.

Biting in your lower lip you put his aviators aside and smirked. “Nice day, hm?” you snarked, swinging your legs over the side of the lounger to stand.

“Oh, definitely a heat advisory in effect,” Steve teased back, discarding the skimmer on the patio at his feet, finally unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

Walking with a purpose he closed the gap between the two of you and took your face in his hands and pressed a heady kiss to your mouth, catching your lower lip between his. You tasted like popsicles and Cherry Coke.

“What was that for?” you murmured against his lips, his hands still holding onto your cheeks as your hands wandered up to rest on his chest.

“For not eating pizza in the pool,” he grinned against you as he went in for another kiss and then leaned in close, his lips to your ear, “I forgot something inside.”

It was so hot, the sun beating down on both of you, but you shivered at his words as goosebumps trailed along your neck. Laughing you tilted your head so that you could meet his gaze and when your eyes met your grin softened and fell. Steve’s eyes. Deep pools of caramel swimming with tiny flecks of hazel and gold. Long brown lashes sweeping his cheeks. Steve. He only had eyes for you.

“I’ll come with you,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you felt a heat rising in your core that had absolutely nothing to do with the hot Indiana sun, and without hesitation his hand was tangling with yours, pulling you through the slider door and up the stairs.

Steve kicked the door shut as you both tumbled into his room and he caught your lips in another kiss before pressing more down your jaw, your neck, to the little hollow behind your ear.

It was hot, the air in his room upstairs was warm and thick and his hands were everywhere all at once. Wandering across the small of your back, trailing the length of your arms, tugging your hips into his. It all made you dizzy, but you kept up.

Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you spun him around and pushed him down onto his bed. His eyes went wide for a split second, surprised at the show of confidence, but he came back down from it and grinned up at you. “So damn pretty,” he murmured and you knew he meant it.

“I could say the same to you,” you purred before diving down against him, your bodies finally pressing together, skin meeting skin around your bikini and his trunks. It felt electric. You’d both wanted nothing more after watching each other in the heat, dripping with the glittering turquoise of the pool, longing to look, to touch, to feel.

A groan escaped him as you trailed kisses along his shoulder and up against his stubbled jaw before settling your mouth on his, lightly pulling on his lower lip.

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he mumbled, fingers fumbling with the tie of your top, cinched snug against your body. As it came undone it fell down onto his chest and he stopped short, hands holding onto your waist for dear life. He looked at you like you were the only thing that existed in that moment. You were the only thing that existed in that moment. “Damn,” it was almost reverent, in awe of you. Every curve, every dip, the very softness of you.

Giving him a small smile you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear, and simply whispered his name. Pulling back the look you gave him shattered any kind of control he’d been grasping onto and he loosed a heavy breath.

In one fell swoop Steve lifted you off of him easily, tossing you down on the bed before bringing his needy mouth to your sun kissed skin again, body meeting yours. You could feel him against you, could feel much he wanted you, and the heat pooling between your legs told you you wanted him just as much.

Steve bit your shoulder gently and he smirked when you sucked in a gasp. “Shit,” you hissed, half laughing half moaning at the kisses he started trailing down your chest and along the soft curve of your breasts.

His face moved down your body, mouth touching every bit of you he could, and then he paused and flicked his eyes up to look at you. “What?” his tongue ran along his lower lip as he grinned, knowing full well what he was doing to you.

Brow furrowing you propped yourself up on your elbows and opened your mouth to reply, but it promptly clamped shut when he slipped his mouth over your nipple, eliciting another moan from your lips. Your head fell back against the sheets as your hands moved to tangle in his hair. “Want you,” was all you could manage, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I know,” Steve’s voice was low, rough, and the grin he’d given you was long gone, pupils blown wide – fuck, he wanted you too. He pushed himself up for only as long as it took to yank his trunks off, his fingers deftly untying your bikini bottoms before tugging them out from under your ass and throwing them unceremoniously to the floor.

Standing at the edge of the bed he stopped and took in the vision you were, all soft curves and tan lines and freckles. Coconut sunscreen and cherry red lips. He leaned forward and ran his hands up your calves, hooking his palms behind your knees, and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he knelt down. Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from yours even as his hands moved to spread your legs apart, thumbs pressing into your thighs.

His fingers swept inward, slipping against the slick between your legs and you saw his eyes flutter closed for a second as he touched you, felt you, jaw clenching as he groaned, “So wet baby, is that for me?”

“Mhmm,” your mumbled yes was tangled up with another moan as he slipped first one finger then two inside of you, his thumb taking up a slow, languid pace as it traced circles over your clit. Steve was so good to you. Took care of you. You came first, always.

He easily found a rhythm as his fingers slipped in and out, in and out, in and out. It was wrecking you and as he picked up the pace your whimpers grew to moans despite biting down on your bottom lip. “You’re so good, baby,” he pressed kisses to your inner thigh, “Want you to come for me.”

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, like a hummingbird caught in your ribcage, frantic and seeking release. One hand still tangled in his hair, the other desperately clinging onto a fistful of sheets as you felt yourself racing closer to the edge. He made you feel so good, his fingers were so good, but he was too far away. You wanted him on you, crushing into you, fucking you.

“Steve,” breathless you begged, “Need you.” And he slowed, knowing exactly what you wanted. What you needed.

“Yeah, okay baby,” he reassured you, climbing over the top of you as he fumbled in his nightstand drawer and grabbed a condom, tearing the foil between his teeth and thumb. Kneeling with a leg on either side of your hips he slid it over his length, pumping his hand up and down a few times before fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet, sweet like honey, and his heart was pounding in his chest when he looked up into your eyes.

He slowly eased himself into you, feeling how tight you were on him, and he let out a groan. “Jesus Christ,” his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out, you felt so fucking good, but he quickly opened them again to look down at you. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you felt your body slowly relax as you adjusted to the way he filled you, letting out a sigh, the most perfect melody to his ears, “M’okay.”

ALifting a hand to gently brush your hair away from your dewy forehead he took you in. “So pretty,” he whispered, "So damn beautiful." And then started rocking into you, your hips rising to meet him with each thrust. Slow at first, his forehead falling down to meet yours, one hand holding him over you as the other tangled your fingers with his.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed as he picked up the pace, both of you panting with the effort as you pushed each other closer and closer to your breaking point. You looked up at him as he fucked into you, his pretty lips parted as he sucked in breaths, moving faster and faster chasing his high.

Letting your hand go he moved his fingers back down to your clit and moved them in slick, heavy circles and the moan you loosed then almost shattered him. “Oh–oh god, Steve, I’m gon-gonna come,” you were gasping for air, as the movements of his fingers grew messy and faster, wanting you to find release before he did, your name leaving his lips over and over like a prayer. And then something in you snapped and your hips bucked heavy against his, your hand flying up to hold onto his bicep like a lifeline as each wave of your climax washed over you.

“Fuck, me too, so close,” Steve’s face almost looked pained as his movements grew hurried and uneven, and then finally his rhythm broke too and his lips parted as his breath hitched in his throat. He finished fast as you clenched around him, guiding him up and over the edge and slowly he rocked his hips to a stand still, both of you messy and sweaty and wrecked.

Letting his head fall forward Steve buried his face in you, pressing light kisses to your collarbone, the crook of your neck, your cheek. He smirked, exhaustion creeping over both of you, and brought his lips to yours, “It’s that damn bikini.”

Laughing you slowly moved to cup his face in your hands and shook your head. “Mental note to wear it more often,” your own little grin tugged up at the corners of you lips as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Steve laughed, but it was cut short as he eased out of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you, the fan on the ceiling pushing the warm, thick, summer air around his room. Resting your head on his chest as he settled, you listened to his heartbeat thud, thud, thud against your ear, your breathing slowly evening out along with his.

He ran his fingers through your hair idly, humming low and content, and kissed the top of your head. “So–” he started, voice tired and gravely, but happy, “I…I wanted to tell you that…uh, what I mean is…shit.”

“What is it?” propping yourself up against his chest you looked at him, concern knitting your brow together.

He caught the worry in your eyes and quickly shook his head, his hand finding yours and turning it over to press a kiss to your palm. “No, no nothing bad!” he reassured you quickly, his cheeks flushing pink. “I just,” he sighed, an uncharacteristically nervous laugh escaping him, “I just wanted to tell you I love yo–”

“Steve!”

“It wasn’t my fault–”

“Mike told me to–”

“I did not!”

Voices carried up through the open window cutting Steve off and he jammed his tongue into his cheek. Someone was gonna get it.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” irritation gave Steve a second wind and he crossed the room so fast you couldn’t help laughing as you watched his bare ass stop at the window sill. “I’m a little busy here!” he yelled down at the boys, but then you saw his expression change. “Wait, who the hell got pizza in the pool??”

Quiet. Then a barrage of voices.

“Dustin was hungry–”

“I told him it wasn’t allowed, Steve–”

“You know how he is!”

“They’re all lying, Steve!”

Putting both hands over his face he groaned, loud and exaggerated, before letting them drop to his sides. He thought for a moment, then decided he didn’t care and threw his hands up in defeat.

“You know what? You figure it out,” he shouted back down at them and then pulled the sheer curtains shut before coming back to bed.

Laughing he tossed the sheet over both of you, pulling you in close, smiling against your skin, his hands holding you soft and gentle and then he finally whispered against your ear what it was he was trying to tell you all that time.

I love you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

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