#hope you get a break from the wildfire smoke soon!

[quaranmine]

Well, it seems to me that the combination of me typing IWGttEoB and the wildfire smoke going over my house had finally affected my dreams because I just woke up from a dream where Mumbo is the fire watch lookout and Gem was the Thorofare Lookout. Yes poor Mumbo was a pathetic wet cat in my dream while Gem is teasingly telling Mumbo to 'get it together over the radio-

LOL! That would be an interesting AU of the story, honestly. I think their dynamic would be a lot of fun and Gem would make a good candidate for a fire lookout. Mumbo? Wellllllll....that's why Gem is teasing him in your dream

I quite often dream about fandom things and fanfiction, I think. Do I remember any of these enough to tell you about them? Sadly not

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Six: Telephone Call

Chapter Six: Telephone Call

warnings: smoking, angst, phone sex, male and female masturbation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after the party, you and Kento find yourselves almost too nervous to talk to one another, yet at your last chance meeting before the summer he drops a bomb on you. despite this, you two find yourselves getting busy over the phone a/n: sorry for the delay...but I found my inspiration for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @cherryblossombankai @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat @marikuchanxo

@harlekin6 @entirelysein-e @brokennerdalert

@sugurusprettygirl @hazzelle-kento @pixelcafe-network

Masterlist

The week that followed the disaster of that party, you decided to try and cry it all out. The memories were still so fresh in your mind. The look on his face; the betrayal and hatred for you. It hurt so goddamn much. You wondered if you’d ever be able to get out of this funk.

The promise of a summer vacation seemed nice, and possibly would be a bandage for the pain that was still seared deep into your heart. Knowing you’d have to come back to school at the end of the break didn’t seem very promising either. Knowing you’d have to face him again.

Your pride had been so wounded. He continued to act as if you didn’t mean anything to him, and you wondered every time you two crossed paths if you’d be able to face him like you once did. Kento seems to be perfectly content with not talking to you.

In fact, the rumors of him hating you have been spreading like wildfire. So your friends decide to spin it all around and make you see the positive in all of this.

“He was just one guy! You can meet all kinds of cute guys when you come out with us to the beach this summer!”

“Yeah! You’ll see, lots of fish in the sea!”

Still you were clinging to empty promises and tender wounds. By the end of the semester, you found yourself wanting to find the man who stole your heart and to tell him off. You wanted to scream in his face, punch him a few times and leave him discarded on the ground. Just as he had done to you, you would gladly do to him. You would find yourself feeling much better if you were able to feed him the same poison he had fed you.

Your mind kept thinking about all the fun you two had together during the school year. It wasn’t just hooking up and fooling around either; it was deeper than that. It was getting to know him, to know what made him tick, what made him laugh. Cracking the outer layers of the man who was Kento Nanami.

As much as you wanted to discard him and leave him be for the rest of eternity, you found yourself at an impasse. You were madly in love with him. You wanted to go all the way that night too. Everything had been hinging on him returning from getting those damn waters and him just fucking kissing you.

Since that night, you were dreaming of his lips on yours. You missed the way he made your stomach flip with just the sound of his voice. You longed for the all-nighters you two spent together. The sounds of the old N64 and the cursing from the AVGN videos playing in the background on your old and clunky laptop.

And while you suffered in silence, Kento was living his life as if you weren’t even a part of it at one point. You wondered if maybe he even cared that you were suffering. You wondered if he even thought of you. Given the way he doesn’t even look in your direction, you think you know the answer.

Behind those cruel hazel eyes, there was something else there that most people couldn’t see. Kento was wracking his mind with a way to get you back.

He was sure you hated him, so he didn’t even bother to try and talk to you since that night. But the days were counting down and soon you’d be gone for the summer vacation. Soon you’d be gone for a while and maybe when you came back you’d have a new man.

The thought of you kissing someone else pissed him off. It made him angry and jealous and fuck he was seeing green. Every time you wouldn’t even glance in his direction, his heart was breaking even more.

There was just nothing he could do to bring you back into his arms. He thought of every opportunity and every single action of kindness he could bestow upon you. And none of them could ever come close to show you just how terribly sorry he was.

It was killing him inside. It was tearing him apart completely. The thought of you leaving school and coming back with hickies on your neck, or wearing someone’s sweater, or even just having that look in your eyes from a new love, that would be the death of Kento.

Then the final day of school comes and everyone’s getting ready to leave for summer vacation. He’s been thinking about this day over and over. He keeps thinking about how he’s going to catch you right before you leave and tell you he’s sorry.

The words sound so good in his mind. They sound perfect. He can hear it all so clearly. So why does he feel like his tongue is overly tied and his brain is a fog when he approaches you near your friend’s car?

The giggling and talks of summer vacation stop when your friend notices him lurking nearby. Your eyes widen suddenly when you see Kento so close. The butterflies multiply a thousandfold when he comes up to you.

“K-Kento?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Your friends all move aside, making sure he’s not about to attack you or anything like that. They want to see that he’s here to make amends and not break your heart even further. Some of them even think maybe you two could remain friends.

“I…I need to talk to you,” his own voice doesn’t sound strong.

With a nod from your friends, you make your way over to him. They all lean against the car, ready to intervene if they need to. Then you turn your attention back to Kento.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Kento notices the way you cross your arms over your chest when you ask him this.

“I wanted to talk about what happened the other night.”

There was a beat of silence before you both looked at each other. You could see all the words he wanted to say in his eyes. He looks away bashfully before he fishes out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He offers you one, but you decline. Then he brings the cigarette to his lips and lights it. You note that the smell is so comforting to you. 

“I was being such a shithead, alright? It was stupid of me. Those damn girls’ words had gotten to me.” He says between drags of the smoke.

You tilt your head to the side, “What girls?”

He looks away, and you’re starting to put the pieces together. Someone said something bad to him that night. Someone had made him feel like you weren’t completely in love with him. 

“Those damn girls we saw when we arrived. I guess they must have felt entitled to tell me that you were using me.”

Your heart feels broken. This was the cause of the rift between you two. The words of some dumb girl and her posse of bimbos. People who had no idea that you and Kento were more connected and bonded than most people are with their parents, their pets or even their good friends.

“Wait…you saw them? What the hell did they say to you?”

Kento shakes his head, “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. I just wanted to apologize to you. I was stupid to leave you like that.”

You wanted to reach out to him. To hug him. To kiss him. You were desperate to hold him against your body once more. You wanted to hear his voice whisper sweet nothings in your ear once again.

And all too soon, your friends were ushering you into the car. You wanted to run back to him, but they were telling you that they needed to get a move on. Then you hear those three words from his lips…

I love you.

The drive back to your hometown was awkward and quiet. All your friends felt bad for driving off without giving you a chance to answer Kento. He would be thinking about this moment for the rest of the summer and you wouldn't know how to deal with it.

His heart clenched as he watched you get into the car and he desperately called out to you. Saying those three words, they weren’t supposed to come out just yet. No, they were supposed to stay deep inside of him until the perfect moment came. If it ever came.

He was silently cursing himself for messing it all up. How would you ever want to talk to him again? You were probably telling your friends just how stupid all of this was. And with this, he leaves to go stay at his friend’s place for the summer.

The text message comes later. Then the phone call. He’s happy to see you messaging him. You ask him how he’s doing. It’s a few days after summer vacation started. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about leaving you hanging. My friends are jerks,” you say on the other line.

Kento is hanging out on his bed, his head feeling fuzzy from just hearing your voice. “Nah, don’t even worry about it.”

The two of you have so much to talk about. Neither of you mention the party nor do you mention what he said on the last day you saw each other. You two just spend time talking on the phone and enjoying one another.

And with each day, you two find even more conversations to have. Until one day you send him a picture. It’s a picture of you in bed, wearing just an oversized shirt. It makes his heart race and his cock hardens immediately. He finds the courage to call you up.

“Tell me what you’d want to do with me if I was there,” his voice sounds so husky like this.

You’re barely awake but you feel the need growing inside of you, “Kento…I want you to kiss me.”

Just hearing you wanting him to kiss you excites him even more. He’s fisting his cock, moaning into the receiver. You hear the slick sounds of his precum coating his cock. You let one of your hands dip down under your shirt and you begin to play with your aching clit.

“What else? Come on…talk to me.”

“Want you to kiss me, touch me…need your fingers in my pussy.”

This causes him to squeeze his cock to prevent himself from cumming too fast. This was going to have to be enough until you two saw each other again next semester.

“Yeah? You want me to lick that cute little pussy?” He doesn’t understand where he’s getting the courage to talk like this.

You whimper, “I wanna cum all over your tongue.”

This makes it even harder for him to slow down. You’re both working towards a similar goal, moaning and panting for one another. Kento growls softly.

“I’m gonna cum,”

You groan, “Me too.”

Tighter and tighter becomes the coil in your stomach. You see stars when you fall off the edge with a quiet call of his name. Kento is right behind you, biting his lip so he doesn’t yell too loud as he spills his cum all over his fist and his abdomen.

Both of you are panting as you catch your breath. Kento is the first to say something, coupled with a breathy chuckle.

“Hope that’ll keep you happy until we can see each other again.”

You smile, “I’ll be counting down the days.”

[buckysgrace]

Thirty Two

San Diego, 1983

Billy

When he first heard about Kimberly, he hated her.

Absolutely despised her. He had heard of nothing short of how amazing she was, how incredibly smart, how respectful she was, how responsible she was. From the moment Neil had met her he was infatuated, and it drove Billy crazy. All he had was his dad, and now his dad was easily showing his love to someone that wasn't him. He was bitter.

He honestly hoped she got hit by a bus and he’d never have to hear about her again. His dad had always had high expectations for women. They could either act the way he wanted them to act or he would beat it into them. Billy was surprised Neil had found someone else that thought low enough about themselves to actually marry him. Most women turned and ran at the first threat of anger. Billy wished he could. 

He was even more surprised when he found out that Kimberly wasn’t the woman his father was marrying, rather the woman's daughter. He connected the pieces soon enough after that. She must’ve been near his age; someone Neil could dangle over Billy’s head to brag on how he should be acting.

He thought it would be easy enough to scare her away the first time they met. He’d run into his fair share of nerdy girls; they were easy to break and leave in tears. What he wasn’t expecting was her .

She had a heart shaped face, a dainty little nose and freckles that seemed to go on forever on her soft cheeks. Her eyebrows were thick, and he was quickly able to recognize that she used them to express herself. They were always moving; together, up and down as she thought and spoke. Her hair was red and curled against her shoulders. She was nearly his height and seemed to constantly try to shrink herself to be smaller. 

He was hoping for an easy target, someone he could easily hate and use to make their parents fall apart from each other. It was no use. He felt as if being mean to her would be similar to kicking a little puppy. He liked to think that he wasn’t that cruel.

“Billy,” His dad clapped him on the shoulder hard, squeezing tightly so he made sure that his son knew to behave, “This is Kimberly and Maxine. They’re Susan’s daughters.” He motioned towards the two girls. Billy glanced at the younger one, noting how she looked angry. Susan wrapped the two girls up, even though her eldest daughter seemed to tower over her and hugged them proudly. Billy could feel a sick feeling growing in his gut as his resentment began to grow again. 

“Well,” Susan sort of pushed the two girls forward as Neil did the same to Billy. They stood in an awkward triangle, none of them sure of how to approach the other, “You all get to know each other. You’ll be seeing each other a lot more.” That’s how they left them. Billy pushed his hands into his pockets, bouncing his foot from the nerves that were building inside of him. He wanted nothing more than to smoke but Neil had taken them from him already. 

“I like to go by Kim,” She finally spoke up, her voice sounding like he imagined syrup would sound like. Smooth and sickeningly sweet, “And this is Max.” She gestured towards her younger sister before she popped her knuckles. Billy analyzed her again, realizing how often she played with her fingers. Max shrugged, keeping quiet. It took him a minute to realize the younger girl was sizing him up the same way he was doing towards them. 

“Okay,” He wasn’t sure how to talk to her. The only time he really talked to girls was to flirt with them and he knew she was off limits. Neil had already beaten that into him, “Cool I guess.” He watched her cheeks grow rosy, then spread like a wildfire.

He noted how she didn’t blush like other girls. Her cheeks turned to the color of tomatoes and traveled clear down to her collarbone. It only seemed to intensify as he watched her. Her eyes kept darting away, like she was afraid to look at him.

“Do you have a sunburn?” He asked suddenly, tired of sitting in silence. She snapped her head to look at him, her eyebrows rising high in surprise as she opened her mouth to defend herself.

“No,” She stumbled out, finally meeting his eye contact. They were hazel. Her eyes were the warmest brown and the mossiest green mixed together. The sunlight seemed to dance upon them and give her a golden hue, “It’s not a sunburn.” She mumbled, sounding even more embarrassed as she tucked her rudish red hair behind her ear. It was past her shoulders and curled softly against her back. 

Billy wasn’t sure how he was supposed to hate someone that looked so innocent.

“Do you do anything cool?” The younger one, Max, spoke up suddenly. Billy spared a look at her.

“I’m playing baseball right now.” He didn’t feel the need to ask her anything in return. The truth was he played whatever sport would have him. The more he was at school, the less time he had to spend with his dad. Which meant the less he got beat.

“Oh, baseball!” Kim exclaimed, trying to look excited. Billy didn’t like that she had already made peace with their situation. He felt like he shouldn’t be the only one suffering, “My daddy took me to a baseball game once.” He resisted the urge to scoff, noting how Neil was watching them.

“Yeah? Who’d you see?” He grumbled, wishing he was out surfing instead of having to participate in this stupid conversation. He almost felt bad by the way her face fell. He meant the question in a genuine way but could piece together how she thought he was testing her. She looked to her younger sister for support.

“Dodgers.” Max answered simply, holding her arms together as she hid under her umbrella to keep her away from the sun. Kim nodded, looking a bit reassured as she turned to face the ocean again. They were the only group of people that were quiet. Around them he could make out the sound of laughter and children playing. He watched the two of them, trying to come up with some way to run them off. He thought about how it would feel to have other people in the house and wondered if it would finally free him of the chance of being beaten all the time. Billy immediately felt guilty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle watching Neil beat on a bunch of little girls. But he would.

It didn’t take long for Neil and Susan to get married after that. Three weeks. Billy had three weeks left of his old life before he was forced into a suit and another buzzcut as he stood behind his father at the altar. He was bitter, but he felt it slowly turning into something else as he stared at her .

He thought that if he believed in angels, Kim would be one. The pale-yellow dress was a bit too short against her long legs, resting high on her thighs. She looked happy; her plump lips curled into a smile as she watched her mother. He noticed a small dimple on the left side of her cheek, it just barely poked out, making it easy to miss. Billy felt bad for her, she would soon understand what kind of horrible situation they would all be stuck in. He thought that she looked to sweet to experience someone like Neil. He felt his eyes lingering everywhere, tracing over the curve of her body and back towards her soft features again. 

He thought about what she would taste like if they kissed. He wondered if she was as sweet as she looked. His mind wandered elsewhere, thinking about what she was wondering underneath her tiny dress. He wondered if her freckles traveled all the way down her soft body or if they faded away into her pale skin. He wasn't sure why the prettiest girl he'd ever seen had to be the daughter of the bitch his father was marrying. The realization that she was to be his sister didn't die down the fire inside of him, it only seemed to make it spread through his body. He thought of how easy she would be to ruin, how he’d easily get his old life back.

“Get closer, scoot in like that,” The photographer had squished them all together and Billy could feel an unknown feeling traveling through his body when Kim wrapped her arm around his waist. He stiffened, resisting the urge to shove her off of him. He hadn’t been touched in so long that it no longer felt comfortable to him. She beamed at him, not seeming to notice how freaked out he was from her touch, “Just a bit closer.” They were shuffling towards each other again and Billy could feel a warmth spreading in his stomach from how close she was to him. She smelt like cherries. He wondered if she tasted the same way between her legs. 

He wasn’t paying attention to the camera; he was too busy staring at her freckled cheeks and the curve of her nose. He could feel his heart race increasing as he watched her press a wide smile against her lips as she posed for the camera. He could feel the jolts of electricity traveling up his back from where she was holding onto him. He hadn’t felt such a fire inside of him before. He indulged, letting his eyes linger against her chest before he looked back at her pretty features again.

The flash had surprised him, he was drawn away from him and back towards the photographer, “Let’s do it again. This time everyone looks this way.” Billy cursed under his breath, shifting as Kim widened her eyes at the filthy words he muttered inside the church. If only she knew what he was really thinking about at the moment. He faced the camera this time, staying stone faced as the flash went off again. He just hoped he hadn’t looked too obvious in the picture.

“This is it. It's not much,” Neil said as he paraded his big house around to the three girls. Billy was fairly sure it was a lot for them considering the size of their apartment and how it only took four boxes for them to pack up and move. Still, they seemed to be a lot happier than what he was. He thought it was odd how Max tended to hang onto her sister's arm more than her mother's, "You two can pick out your own rooms." When his dad smiled at the two girls, he smiled brightly. Like he was finally getting his perfect family. It was making Billy resentful, making him feel like he needed to do something outlandish to get his father's attention again.

"We can have our own room?" Max asked, almost cautiously as she looked between her mother and Neil. He was smiling widely, and Billy searched for the familiar sense of hatred behind his eyes. He didn't notice it, seeing only happiness for the first time. It made him sick and even more bitter than before, wondering if he really did make his father miserable. Neil always said so, but Billy always brushed it off as his anger speaking. Now, he wasn't so sure. Max was off first, searching through the large house while Kim lingered nearby. She walked slowly, her fingers trailing against the wall. Billy found himself staring, thinking of the stories of fairies his mother used to tell him.

“This is nice,” Kim peaked into Billy’s room. Neil had forced him to take all of his posters down and hide away the music he listened to. He felt like Neil was making him pretend to be someone that he wasn't. He watched as her eyes lingered against his window nook, “I like the blue too.” She mentioned, referencing his painted walls. He was about to thank her when Neil spoke over him. 

“You can have it,” Neil said suddenly, “Billy won’t mind moving.” Her hazel eyes widened, glancing towards the blonde boy. He bit his lip hard, trying to keep his mouth closed. He has spent the past sixteen years in this room and now he was just expected to move without a fight? The anger was bubbling inside of him, but he tried to keep his cool as Kim's eyes lingered on his expression. He waited for her to react in joy as Neil let her get her way.

“Sure,” He replied through clenched teeth, glancing away from his father’s harsh gaze. He tried not to wince as Neil walked up next to him, clasping his shoulder tightly. Billy was used to his hard squeezes. Neil tended to do it in public a lot and no one ever seemed to notice the way it hurt his arm, “It’s all yours.” She was shaking her head before he could finish speaking, her eyes landing nervously on Neil's hand. She looked a bit panicked, like she realized she had stepped into a situation she didn't want to be a part of. 

“Oh no, no it’s okay. I liked the other one too. It has a cute garden windowsill; I could grow flowers in it.” She seemed even more excited as she spoke, trying to lighten the situation. She smiled towards Billy, walking away like she was the breeze as she followed her younger sister towards the other rooms. He stared after her, completely feeling awed at how casual she was. She was like fresh air and he felt like he needed more of it. He quickly moved his eyes away, feeling Susan watching him. 

It was fine for a while, mostly awkward as they tried to adjust with each other. Max didn’t speak a lot, but she liked Billy’s car and they spent most of their time speaking of it. They'd spend afternoons after school taking turns on his skateboard. Max wasn't bad, but had admitted that she hadn't been able to skate for a good year after her last one broke. It made him feel guilty, thinking of how many different sports equipment he had blown through the years and Neil had been quick to replace it. Kim would nod along, like she understood but looking completely lost as she watched them interact. Billy liked the way her eyebrows would furrow in confusion. How she’d look like she wanted to ask a question but had decided against it before she stuck her nose into another book. She spent many afternoons at the library and he was sure there were little books she hadn't read. He spent more time analyzing her, trying to figure her out than he spent actually talking to her. 

He learned quick enough that she was bashful and liked to draw and write for hours in her diaries. She would sheepishly close the door if anyone caught her writing, however, like she was too embarrassed to be caught doing so. He recognized her sweet tooth early on and the way she'd rather eat candy than a real meal. He wasn't sure how her teeth were still in her gums with the amount of sugar she'd eat. He'd watch every morning as she made her bowl of cereal and dump at least six teaspoons of sugar on top of that. It made his own teeth hurt as he thought about trying to eat the same thing. At times he'd notice her drawings that she'd create. She was good, but again, always too shy to share it. 

Neil put her on the highest pedestal. Her grade cards were always posted on the fridge as he would brag about her achievements. Her face would flush, and he could tell she was always uncomfortable with the way Neil would hold onto her. At times he could see how it bothered Max as well and he came to feel glad that he wasn't the only one that was constantly being outcasted. It felt like everything revolved around Kim at times, however, Billy still couldn't find it in himself to hate her. It irritated him.

He didn’t like the way Neil paid the two girls more attention than what he did to his own son. They were strangers and Billy bore the same blood, the same last name as the man. It didn’t matter what good thing he did, Neil never paid attention to him. No matter how many games he won or how good his grades were, Neil acted as if it was nothing. The only time he ever looked in his direction was if Billy was doing something wrong. He hated it, hated his whole situation and the people he was forced to live with. 

He decided he would be the one to break this family apart. He was good with girls, knew exactly what to do in order to drive them crazy. They flocked to him, twisting their hair and smiling dopey at him as soon as he smiled at them. He figured it would be easy. Kim was so innocent, so naive that he figured it would take no time at all for her to spread her legs for him. Then they could be gone and Billy would never have to think about her stupid smile again.

He was wrong. No matter how hard he tried to flirt with her, to make a move and drag her towards him it didn’t work. Any chance he got to make a dirty joke, to compliment her or simply interact around her she’d pool into a puddle of red and go on her merry way. Billy was stumped. He had never had someone resist him in that manner, to be so utterly unaware of just how badly he wanted her. It drove him crazy and alighted a new flame inside of him. It was like she was haunting him, each time he got the chance to be with another girl her face would appear right before he climaxed. She was driving him mad and she had no idea.

He tried to convince himself at first it was to ruin her image towards their parents, to show them that she really wasn’t this perfect person they bragged about all the time. He was jealous. He blamed it on formerly being an only child. His father never saw him as his pride and joy, but at least he didn’t have somebody else to favor. Not that he necessarily blamed Kim, she never seemed to enjoy the attention that much. She was nearly a toy for the both of them.

It was hard, so desperately hard to hate her. She’d show up to all of his games, no matter what school activities or outings with her friends she had planned. She'd sit in the front row in her cute little dresses, waving towards him each time he passed by. He spent many times in the shower after his game trying to scrub the image of her out of his mind. She was always kind to him, even when he was mean to her. She did her best to make him feel welcome and he thought her doing that was the worst for him. This was his house, his father, yet she was the one who was trying to make him feel comfortable. It made him realize just how small he actually was.

“What’s that?” He asked on an early spring morning, noting the gardening items she was tugging out of her room. She beamed, lighting up the gaping hole in his heart as she looked at him. She had on a pink shirt that exposed part of her midriff and he was surprised that Neil had allowed for her to wear something like that. He stared at her pale, exposed skin. He was right, thinking that her whole body was covered in freckles. He looked away, pretending to be staring at her overalls instead.

“I’m going to plant some carnations in my windowsill,” She replied cheerily. He watched her, feeling his tight lines fade from his face. He compared her to the warm breezes he felt when he was in the ocean. He didn’t think of her as sunlight, no, she was always too cold to be something so warm. He thought she reminded him of moonlight; soft and radiant in her own way that wasn’t overbearing, “They’re my favorite.” She replied as she walked around him. He watched for a moment, looking at the way her hips moved and imagining what it would be like to hold onto them.

He decided that as fun as it sounded to ruin her, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He didn’t understand what made her different from all the other girls he had been with. He usually had no issue leaving them to pick up the broken parts of their hearts, but something about her felt different. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to be the one to make her smile. He was suddenly thankful for her awkwardness, but made sure that the guys at their school knew to leave her alone. 

Yet, the thought of her being even more unattainable left him in dire need of her. He thought he was losing his mind. She would barely brush up against him and he would find himself hard. It wouldn’t go away either until he fixed it with his hand or with whichever girl he was with. It didn’t matter who he was doing. All he could picture was the dainty redhead and her plump lips, the curve of her breasts and, of course, her virgin pussy. He was sure he would never recover if he felt his cock inside of her. It would be sinful, but the closest to heaven he would ever reach.

It didn’t help that at first she had no idea of how to handle his lack of personal space. When they passed each other in rooms she would ruffle his hair, pat his arm or do whatever she could to place her soft fingers against his skin. He wondered if she knew that it burnt and sank straight into his bones. If they sat near each other she would always be too close, her thighs or breasts constantly brushing against his skin. He had spent many agonizing dinners with the largest boner he’d ever had while she ate her food, clueless, while he was picturing sprawling her over the kitchen table and having his way with her. 

“Can I ask you something?” He had asked her one morning before school as they leaned against his car. She was on the opposite side and he noticed she'd do that when he'd start to smoke. She was wearing a green dress that brought out the color in her eyes. Neil had smacked him the night before when he had asked why the two girls couldn’t just take the bus. Now, he’d be forced to sit next to her and not stare at her pale legs. She looked at the bruise on his cheek with curiosity but didn't say anything about it. He almost wished she would. He was sure that she thought he was just as bad as everyone made him out to be.

“Sure,” She bounced over towards him, walking around the car and resting her hands on her backpack straps as they waited for Max. She was always the last one to wake up, “What is it?” He almost hated to ask, looking into her warm eyes and wishing that maybe things were different. It wouldn’t matter. Even if their parents weren’t married he wouldn’t let himself fall for her. He’d leave her ruined, he was sure of that. He didn't do feelings. He found out early enough, that love was bullshit. It was better to avoid her. 

“Can you,” He huffed softly, never quite the best at saying things nicely. He rehearsed it in his head again, trying to make it sound as nice as possible, “Just don’t touch me. It’s irritating.” He kicked himself mentally, looking at the way her face dropped. He hadn't meant it bad, he just knew his dick would end up falling off if he continued to get hard each time she grazed against him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was bothering you,” He felt guilty all over again, feeling as if he had just run over a bunch of puppies in front of their mother, “I won’t do it again. I promise.” She nodded. She meant it, she never touched him the same way as she had been. Billy was at least glad she didn’t press the issue. He just wasn't comfortable having other people touch him. He did find himself missing the feeling of her skin against his in the following weeks. 

There were two blissful months after they married that Neil wasn’t beating him. He wasn’t hitting Billy as much and his cruel comments were only said if they were alone, which was rare. Billy still spent as much time as he could after school with his sports. If he was careful, he could time it well and not have to see his father without someone else being home. It worked for a while.

“What do you want?” It was rare that Max approached Billy. She seemed to be just as angry as he was. He had taken to calling her Mad Max. Partially because she knew exactly what to say to make people hurt and because she had chopped her hair off with a pair of scissors after Neil and Susan had been convincing her to look more girlish. She had balls, he’d give her that. She had inspired him to grow his hair out like he’d been wanted. Neil was pissed, but Billy continued to do it anyway. He felt like Neil wouldn’t do anything as long as he was trying to impress the girls that were adjusting to living with them.

“What do they taste like?” She asked, sitting on the steps next to him. Her haircut was odd and choppy. Kim had let it slip that this wasn't the first time she had cut her hair in an anger. He thought it was odd. Max was the younger sibling, but she always seemed much more worried about protecting Kim. He wondered if he would've been a good brother. He blew the smoke from his mouth, looking at her curiously. He handed the cigarette towards her, offering her to try it for herself if she was interested enough. She pushed her hair out of her face as she took it. He thought she looked a bit funny, her hair resembling an odd bowl shape. Susan had tried to fix the mop on her head but had given up after she only made it smaller.

Max pulled it to her lips, inhaling softly before pulling away and erupting into a loud coughing fit. He couldn’t help himself from the laughter that left his lips. Her face was beat red, matching the shade of her hair as she tried to catch her breath. She turned, glaring daggers at the older boy as she let his old skateboard fall to the ground. He had offered to get her a new one, but she had refused. She said she liked that one better than the rest. He shrugged it off, no longer using it as much anyways.

“Max!” Susan shouted, rounding along the porch. Billy muttered under his breath as he took the cigarette from the smaller girl's hand and put it out. He was hoping that she hadn’t seen, “I need you.” Susan watched Billy for a second and he knew then that she had seen it all. He shrugged, not thinking anything of it until later when Neil summoned him to their room.

“What?” He looked between Susan and Neil, feeling defensive over her frantic expression. Neil sighed, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his thighs, a position Billy was used to seeing. Neil always did this before he beat the shit out of him. 

“Did you give Maxine a cigarette?” He sounded as disappointed as he always did. Billy slowly trailed his eyes towards Susan, noticing how her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her lips were pulled together tightly. He understood why she had been so frantic to get the girls inside, now. She had to go and snitch to his dad.

“Yeah,” He admitted, knowing that his dad already knew the truth, “But she asked for it.” He did his best to defend himself but Neil already dropped his head with a sigh. Billy watched the way he tapped his foot on the floor before he stood.

“Tell Susan you’re sorry.” Neil approached him and Billy felt his eyebrows furrowing together. He felt a bubble of anger forming in his chest. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he couldn’t help that the little brat wanted to try smoking. He wasn't her dad, he wasn't her brother. He didn't care if she started smoking. That wasn't his problem. 

“For what?” He couldn’t stop his anger once it got to a certain point, “It’s not my fault she leaves me to watch her kid, if she’s so concerned with Max she shou-” He tasted blood before he felt his father’s fist. Billy stumbled back against the wall, fearful for a second as he gripped his mouth. His gums hurt so bad he was sure that he had lost a tooth. He turned to his father, surprised. 

“Neil!” Susan looked horrified as she glanced between the two of them, “What did you do?” She was rushing towards Billy’s side, trying to look at his lip before he pushed her away. Neil backhanded him.

“See, this is why you’ll never amount to anything. You’ve got no respect for anyone around you! She was trying to help you and you pushed her away, why would you do that?” All Billy could do was stare as he felt the blood forming in his mouth. He didn’t know why he did the things he did. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong to have Neil treat him this way. Everything he said made his father mad. 

“Neil! Don’t tell him that, Jesus,” She looked unaffected by Billy shoving her away. He felt a lump forming in the chest from the way she was looking at him. It reminded him of how his mom would look at him whenever he’d get hurt. The thought made him want to cry but he knew it would only get worse if he did so. Neil hated tears more than anything, “You can’t hit him.” Billy was surprised that she honestly had no idea about his father’s nature.

“I can’t?” Neil looked at her flabbergasted, “Don’t you tell me how to raise my son. You’re not a part of this. If you didn’t want me to discipline him you should’ve never told me about it.” Susan looked frantic, glancing towards Billy like she hadn't wanted this to happen. He didn't trust her. 

“I wanted you to tell him it was wrong, not to hit him! You made him bleed.” Billy thought about laughing, knowing this was far from the worst incident. The pain in his mouth was already fading away, it hadn’t been like when the older man had snapped his arm. He had spent four days in agony, trying to convince his dad that something was wrong. Neil simply beat him more, calling him a pussy. Billy thought his dad would kill him when he got the hospital bill back.

“He’s my son,” Neil responded through gritted teeth, not used to someone sticking up for Billy. Billy wasn’t used to it either and it made him feel cautious, “You discipline your girls how you like and I’ll do the same with Billy.” Billy felt the need to leave the room. He had never seen a woman look quite so angry at his father as what Susan did now.

“You can’t hit him. That’s barbaric, it’s sick,” Susan’s face curled into disgust as she motioned towards Billy, “I mean, you talk all the time about all the trouble he gets into but I wonder why. You can’t treat someone you love in this manner.” Billy thought that he should be happy that she was defending him. He had hoped for someone to do so for a long time. Now, all he felt was sickness. What did she know about his dad? She hadn’t even been dating his father for that long. Neil loved Billy, he was sure of it. He was just hard on him.

“Don’t,” Neil hissed out, his patience beginning to fade. Billy noticed the look on his face. He wanted to hit her, but he was restraining himself, “Don’t raise your voice at me.” Neil wagged a finger at her. Susan’s eyes widened but she didn’t look scared.

“Or what? Are you going to hit me too? Because I promise as soon as you do my girls, and I will be gone. Don’t think I won’t tell people what you do either.” She threatened him, looking completely serious.

“You would be nowhere without me!” Neil was screaming, his feet planted in front of Susan’s small figure, “You were about to lose the girls, I saved you. Me! You should show me some goddamn respect. Do they even know what you were doing when I found you?” Billy thought he had overheard too much and slowly began to inch his way back towards the door. He hadn’t known much about them, other than that they had lived in a small apartment downtown. 

Susan huffed, looking on the verge of tears. Billy didn’t understand the whole story. From how it sounded before, their dad wanted nothing to do with them. Maybe it was all a lie.

“You don’t get to compare our experiences,” She spoke finally, her voice shaking and no longer fierce. Whatever anger that had been inside of her was melting away. Billy realized suddenly that she was trapped, Neil had been her last option, “I won’t say anything again.” She said after a moment and suddenly Billy felt like a small boy again, wishing for someone to help him. Just like all the other women who had entered his life, Susan did nothing. It was easier for her to pretend that he wasn’t even there.

He thought again about popping his dad's perfect bubble. He was sure if he tried hard enough that he would rope Kim in. He knew that all girls became easy once you got their clothes off. Neil had taught him that a long time ago. Kim would be perfect. She was currently Neil’s pride and joy. He spent all day, all night talking about how perfect she was.

Still, Billy couldn’t hate her. He couldn’t imagine doing anything that would actually hurt her. She was sweet to him in a way that he had craved so desperately for so long. At times he’d find himself looking for her in crowded rooms and at school just so that he could stand next to her. She always had a gleam in her eye when she looked at him. It made him feel like he was special, that he wasn’t as small as what he felt. He liked when she looked at him, because she never looked disappointed or mad. They never spoke much, he couldn't ever find the right words to tell her. She made him feel comfortable and she didn't even know it. He liked that despite living together, she didn’t think that he was weak. Neil hadn’t poisoned her mind against him.

Yet.

“What was that?” The blonde girl on top of him stopped her movements. Billy groaned in frustration, he had already had a shit night and it just seemed to grow worse as loud music carried into his room from the living room. He still wasn't used to having other people in the house. It always seemed to interrupt his plans of getting laid. This was the third time that this had happened in a week. 

“Nothing,” He sat up, watching as she pulled her clothes together in a hurry, “Where are you going?” He asked, not quite satisfied with the throbbing between his legs. She huffed at him, pulling her clothes on.

“You didn’t tell me that anyone else would be here. They can’t see me.” She replied quickly as Billy stared at her. She was a friend of Susan’s; he had met her last week when her work had some sort of charity function that Neil forced Billy to attend. He had always had a lucky streak with older women and she had been no different. He had partially been hoping that Susan would come back and find them together. He thought it would be funny to see the horrified look on her face. 

“It’s probably just Max and Kim, they won’t care,” In truth, he was unsure if they even knew when he had brought girls over. The house was so spacious that you could avoid each other if you tried hard enough. Which Max seemed to be trying to do, “Seriously, don’t leave.” He tried to reach for her hand, but she was pulling away.

“This was a dumb idea, I’m married. Just, just forget this happened, okay? Please.” She slid her shoes on quickly and an empty feeling settled inside of Billy. He was always just a quick, regretful lay. No one truly wanted to be with him. He had given up that he would actually find someone a long time ago.

“You know the way out.” He snarled at her, reaching over to light his cigarette up. She glared at him, pulling his door open harshly and leaving it wide open. He huffed in irritation as the kitchen light shone into his room. He stood, wrapping his sheet around his waist as he made his way to the door.

“Hey, do you want any,” Kim stepped forward, her eyes widening as she took in his form. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, noticing the way her body turned red and her eyes lingered against his shirtless form, “Any pizza?” She squeaked out after a second. Her eyes were still lingering against his chest. He grinned, feeling his charm come back on as he leaned against the doorway.

“What kind of pizza?” He tilted his head as he watched her. She pulled her hazel eyes back up towards him, looking utterly mortified as she seemed to be thinking for an answer. Billy was sure that she had never seen a shirtless guy before. It was clear from how she began to fidget and look away from him. He thought that she looked cute suddenly.

“I think pepperoni,” She mumbled, looking up at the ceiling, “I don’t know, maybe cheese.” She was still looking up at the sky. He took a step from his room, holding onto his sheets as he glanced up with her. He could feel her cold skin pressing against his warm chest, and he noted how much wider her eyes grew in size. It took everything in him not to laugh. He wondered what he would do if he dropped his sheet from around his waist. He was almost a hundred percent sure he'd end up traumatizing her rather than getting a good lay. 

“Is there a spider up there?” He asked. He liked teasing her. It was fun watching her get flustered, almost as if it was a game to see how red she could get. He watched her gulp hard as she shrugged her shoulders.

“I think so,” She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing at him nervously, “I’m going to call so um.” She waved at him, turning away quickly and walking fast towards the kitchen. He grinned, resting back against the doorway as he watched her rush away. He bit his lip, thinking how badly he wanted to sink his teeth into her. 

Their gracing period had finally come to a halt. Neil was slowly growing angrier, and Billy figured that it was even worse as he couldn’t openly hit him in front of the rest of them. Billy had let his guard down, believing that he was safe as long as he was with someone else. Like usual, he was wrong. 

“What did you do?” Billy looked up unaware of Neil’s harsh tone. He was all too used to him speaking like this but by the way the room filled with silence he remembered that the three girls in the kitchen weren’t. He glanced up at his father’s fiery eyes, ignoring the feeling of everyone watching him. He wasn't used to a crowd gathering before he got beat.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” He didn’t mean for it to sound snarky but could feel himself cringing at how his words came out. Neil was on him in a second, gripping the collar of his shirt tightly and yanking him forward until he was inches from his father’s face. He was all too aware of the angry lines on Neil’s face. Billy knew those better than anything. This was his father and he had been hiding for some time.

“Respect and responsibility, right?” Billy nodded along, clueless. Neil must’ve noticed his confused expression because soon Billy was stumbling back into the kitchen island, his nose stinging from the swift punch his father delivered. He had never been able to pick up when he would hit. He could slightly hear the frantic sound of the chairs scraping against the tiles before Neil gripped his shirt again, “Why the fuck did you get a speeding ticket then?” Billy felt his heart sinking into his stomach.

Shit.

He had been careless, hadn’t even seen the cop when he had sped by. Max had bet him that he couldn’t get them home from the skate park in under ten minutes. Much to Kim’s dismay, he accepted. It had seemed to be all in good fun at the time. They had been laughing, even well after he got the ticket. He did his best to cover his tracks but figured one of them must’ve snitched. 

“You snitched?” He hissed out towards no one in general, but his eyes lingered on Kim’s horrified expression as she stood around the kitchen island. She had stood so fast that she had knocked the bar stool onto the ground. She was gripping the counter tightly, her fingers nearly white. Max was sitting there stony, looking as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Billy could notice Susan's figure retreating in the background. Neil punched him so hard that he slammed back against the kitchen drawers, rattling what rested inside. He groaned, feeling the warm rush of liquid beginning to pour from his nose. Neil used to never hit Billy in the face in fear of bruising, but bloody noses had become his specialty recently. When someone asked, Billy just used the excuse that he had fought someone. Their curious minds always bought his lie.

“You dumb fuck,” Neil hissed and Billy flickered his eyes up to noticed the envelope in his hands. He felt sick suddenly. He was used to checking the mail first thing when he knew he had done something wrong. He hadn’t been fast enough today, “It’s like you want me to get mad. Why did you speed?”

“Our fault! It was our fault,” He heard Kim’s frantic voice and closed his eyes tightly, knowing that she had made it worse without meaning to, “We asked him to go fast over those hills. You know, it’s fun. We didn’t notice the cop. It was our fault, just, just please stop.” He looked up into his father’s stern face, noticing a look of hatred cross his features as he peered back down at his son.

Billy’s nose erupted into agony as Neil dragged the opened envelope along his face, coasting the paper and his features with his blood. He kept his eyes clenched tightly together, trying not to show any of his emotions. It would just make it that much worse, “Do you realize what you could’ve done to your sisters?” Neil’s voice was gruff as he squeezed the paper over Billy’s face and slammed his head back against the counter. He felt dazed for a moment as his head felt as if it may explode. He bent over, wincing as he cupped his head in his hands, trying to will the pain to leave him. He was too distracted to hear the rustle of Neil’s belt, but he sure did feel the stinging that it left on his back. 

“Stop it! Stop!” He could vaguely hear Max’s voice after Neil delivered lash after lash against his back, his sides, down his legs and wherever else he could reach. He was breathing hard, trying to control his actions so he didn’t break down into tears. His whole body was stinging with pain, he hadn’t felt such agony before.

All over a speeding ticket.

“What did you do?” Kim’s voice was next, sounding a lot closer to him and shaky. He looked down at the white tiled floors, watching the blood drip from his mouth and slide into the cracks. He wished he could disappear, to hide away. They weren’t supposed to see him like this. He didn’t want their pity. 

“Hm,” Neil grunted and ignored Kim's question, as Billy tried to focus on breathing.  He felt his hands clench together as he waited for the next lash to come. It never did, “Some son I have. A worthless loser who needs two little girls to defend him.” It was worse than getting hit in the face. He’d rather Neil beat him than to speak to him in this way. Neil rose slowly, not even looking towards the two girls as he left his son a bleeding mess on the floor. He nearly collapsed when the door slammed shut and he realized he was finally safe.

“Billy, we didn’t tell!” Max tried to explain quickly as she knelt in front of him. He could see Kim scooting closer from the corner of his eye, holding a wad of paper towels in her hands. She looked alarmed, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. It made him more angry. He thought that they had been dumb to believe that Neil was someone nice. He was angry, not understanding why they didn't get the same treatment he did.

“It’s going to be okay. Let me look.” Kim’s voice was soft, and kind and he hated her for it. He hated both of them as he realized nothing would change. He would continue to be his dad’s punching bag and the rest of them would pretend like nothing was wrong. He was still breathing hard when he noticed her raising her pale hand to reach out and touch him. He gripped her wrist harshly, sending all of his emotions to his eyes as he glared at her stunned expression.

“Stay away.” He shoved her hand back towards her chest, noticing how the tears brimmed in the corners of her pretty eyes. He was shoving himself off of the blood-soaked floor with a groan, pushing past the younger redhead as he willed himself not to limp. Everything hurt so badly. It hurt him to walk, to sit, to breathe. He wanted to die, he figured that would be his only sense of comfort. 

Kim, he would find out, had a habit of not listening to him. When he heard the fidgeting of his lock outside of his door later that night, he braced himself as he stared out his window. He figured it was his father again, coming to finish what he started. He was surprised to hear the soft footsteps and concerned expression on Kim’s face. He stared at her, looking at the pink box and paper towels she was clutching tightly in her hands.

“Are you dumb or something? Get the fuck out.” He spat at her, still feeling his anger building inside of him. He could tell she was taken aback from his reaction, hurt even as he noticed the tears in her eyes again. He didn’t care. She was going to get him into more trouble by coming in when she wasn’t supposed to.

“You need to clean up,” She told him simply, taking cautious steps towards him like she was afraid he’d last out with his fists. It made him feel bad as he thought about his mother. He’d never hit a woman the way his dad did. She stepped in front of him slowly, sitting down a fair distance away, “I can help you.” 

“I don’t need help from some dumb fucking girl,” He glared at her, thinking about his father’s words. He hadn’t cared about the blood that smeared his face or the way that his body hurt. His father was right. He deserved it. He should’ve known better than to speed and he should’ve told him that he did it when it happened. This was his fault, as usual, “Just go.” He turned away again, looking out the night sky.

She glanced over both of her shoulders before looking at him again, “Is the dumb girl in the room with us?” She asked seriously. He stared at her. He’d never heard her smart back before. She looked back to her lap, beginning to open the pink box as she ignored his eyes. She still couldn’t hold his contact for very long.

“What’s that?” He motioned towards it, watching as she began to pull out Band-Aids and other supplies. He looked at them, noticing the neon colors and heart shapes that decorated them. She turned towards him sheepishly.

“My first aid kit. I mainly used it for Max when she’d fall off of her skateboard. That’s why they’re girlish, but it’ll work.” He watched her, knowing that he wasn’t going to let her put any of that on him.

“No thanks.” He said simply. He tried to scoot back to move away from her, but his whole body erupted in agony. His head was still throbbing from where Neil had smacked his head against the cabinet. 

“At least let me wipe the blood up then,” She spoke softly as if she was afraid that she could be mean to him, “Then I’ll go. I need to at least make sure you’re not sitting here, well like this. Please?” She sounded sincere, the moonlight catching off of her hazel eyes. He stared at them for a moment, making out the different colors and sadness that swirled within them. 

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure why he said it. Something thumped in his chest as he watched her move closer towards him, looking a bit unsure as she began to touch the wet towel against his blood-stained features. He winced, pulling away a bit but not from the pain in his nose. He hadn’t had someone touch him in this manner in a long time. He wasn’t sure how to react. It was like she knew as she withdrew her hand and approached him again after a few minutes. 

She touched his skin gently, dabbing the blood off of him so softly that he could barely feel her at all. He glanced at her, making sure there was no fear etched on her face. There wasn’t. She was concentrating, her eyebrows pulled tight as she focused on the task at hand. She was acting as if she touched him hard enough, she would hurt him. It almost made him laugh.

He watched as she worked under the moonlight, seeming to glow as the light casted against her pale skin. She was quiet and he appreciated that. He wasn’t sure what he would even say if he had words to tell her. He didn’t want to thank her, didn’t want to feel like he owed her something. 

“Do you want me to look at your back?” She asked hesitantly. He looked at the blood-soaked paper towels next to him and shook his head. He’d deal with that on his own some other time. She looked at him uncertain as he shook his head no, “What can I do then? Do you want medicine? Something to eat?” She was staring at him then and he noticed the swarm of pity filling in her eyes. He hated that look.

“You can leave.” He told her his answer, really meaning it this time. She had been in here for too long. If Neil was to come in and see her, Billy would be the one to get punished again. He didn’t need that to happen. She looked hurt but nodded, quickly putting her things away. 

She lingered at the doorway for a moment, glancing back towards him, “Billy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how mean your dad was.” She admitted, looking sorrowful. He found a new rage filling inside of him. She thought that just because she had seen a small incident that she had them all figured out. He could feel the hurtful words forming on his tongue so instead of answering her, he turned away. He ignored the throbbing pain in his body, willing himself to stay together as she quietly shut and locked him back into his cage.

Their dynamic changed after that. She was more cautious around Neil, understanding then of who he truly was. Of course, Neil only took that out on him. Yet, she was there hours later always ready to clean him up. He wanted to tell her no but felt himself drawn towards her kind nature. He didn’t understand how someone like her could pretend to feel bad for someone like him. No matter what he said or did, even if he made her cry, she was comforting him in the only way he allowed her to. 

The first few visits were quiet, neither of them daring to speak. After that, she grew more comfortable. She would ramble on and on about the most random things. Whether it was a new book she was reading, gossip she heard at school, or the newest Harrison Ford movie she had watched. He had learned that she really, really liked Harrison Ford and candy. He was sure she was just trying to make him feel better, but he lingered to each word, remembering the smallest details about her that he was sure she wouldn’t even remember in a week. The more he knew about her, the more interested he grew. He felt like she had started his heart again. Things didn't seem so dark when she was around and he found himself constantly wanting to reach out and touch her.

She had been reading something and he had just so happened to glance at the page when he felt his eyes widening, a smirk forming on his lips as he glanced at her, "What are you reading?" They were waiting for Max to get out of school. It always seemed to take twice as long. Kim snapped her book shut with haste, a blush slowly forming over her cheeks as she tried to act nonchalant. He knew what he had seen and he felt a familiar spark growing inside of him. Maybe they weren't so different.

"A romance book." She played it off, shoving it back in her backpack. He waited for her to look up again, watching how she tucked her hair behind her ears repeatedly. He had grown to learn that she did that when she was nervous. He grinned, not thinking that she could be so naughty. He wanted to know what else she read, if she ever looked at any pictures. More importantly, he wanted to know if she touched herself at night and who she thought of.

"Does your mom know you read those books?" He challenged, slightly teasingly as the redness in her skin dipped down her neck. She scoffed, shifting in the passenger seat as she shook her head and denied him completely. He didn't press the issue too much, but he knew what he had read. It drove him crazy, thinking about how she wasn't actually a total prude when it came to sex. He was beginning to believe she was going to be shipped off to be a nun. She took to hiding the books she was reading around him from then on, but he was well aware of the secret library she was hiding.

He was right about Susan. She had ignored any of the abuse and shut down her daughters any time they brought up how terrible he was being. He at least felt a bit better that Max and Kim weren’t pretending like this was normal. It made him feel less crazy. Still, the four of them seemed to fit into a small bubble that he didn’t belong to. Neil treated them completely differently than how he treated his own son, his own flesh and blood. He praised them, was hardly ever mean to them unless they spoke out of line. But he never hit them. Not once. It made Billy spiral, realizing he could fade away and no one would really notice.

“Billy,” Susan approached him in his room one afternoon, clutching a large envelope towards his chest. He looked at her unsure, still not trusting her. For a while he had hoped that she would intervene but she never did. She was like all of the other women his father dated, “Can we talk about something?” He felt his stomach sinking but he nodded, offering her a spot on his bed. She sat down, pulling the pictures of their wedding down from her chest. He looked at them confused before glancing back towards her.

“They just now got the photos developed?” He questioned. It had seemed like a lifetime ago. Susan nodded stiffly, opening the package as she pulled one out and handed it to him. He stared. It was the one where he had been looking at Kim. She was beaming, looking as elegant as ever and it was clear he was staring at her with intensity. He didn't like the look in his eyes. He looked too happy, too engrossed with the girl standing next to him. He glanced towards Susan, unsure of what to say.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but Kim isn’t like the girls you go out with,” Susan started, seeming a bit awkward, like she couldn’t look him in the eye, “She’s a good girl. She doesn’t need that, well she doesn’t need you. I hope that doesn’t sound cruel but she’s going to make something of her life and get far away from this. Please, stay away from her. I don’t want to bring this up to Neil but I will.” His jaw went slack at her threat. He found a rage bubbling in his chest at the accusation. Sure, he had thoughts, but he'd never actually do anything. Kim was his favorite daydream, the only way he found the ability to get through most of his days.

“This, this isn’t like that.” He held the photo up defensively, but she held her own hand up to cut him off. He was hurt. Was he not allowed a life away from this? If he didn’t hate himself before, he certainly did now after listening to her words. He could handle beatings, but words went straight to the little boy inside of him. 

“Burn it, get rid of the picture. It never happened. Just promise me, you won’t try anything with her.” Susan looked desperate. Billy felt a sickening feeling inside of him. He may have had the occasional fantasy, but he would’ve never actually done anything with her. He nodded stiffly, trying to keep from ripping the dumb picture up.

“I promise.” He nodded along, pretending like he didn’t feel awful about himself at the moment. 

He remembered the first time Kim had gotten in trouble. How he had winced, his whole-body clenching in anticipation as he waited for Neil to swing at her. He was surprised that it never happened. Billy had watched Neil beat his mother until she was a limp, bleeding mess on the floor but he seemed true to his words. He never hit the girls, but they found out quickly enough that they'd have to hide things from him. It had been over a diary she had written, and Billy was sure it was about how mean Neil was with the way he threw his tantrum. He had felt bad after, seeing the way she cried into her pillows. He had lingered near the doorway, trying to think of something to say to her but unable to do so. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how to do it. 

"Did it hurt?" He asked her curiously, looking at her new earrings. She had just gotten them done and had bounced into his room excitedly to show off her shiny jewels on her ears. He wanted to be irritated but he wasn't able to find it in himself. He sat up on the edge of the bed as she bent over. She had her hair pulled back in a headband with roses on it. She was wearing a green dress with puffy sleeves. He could smell cherries on her and wondered if she always smelt so sweet because of all the candies she'd eat.

"A little bit, just barely though," She hesitated for a moment, "I could do yours if you want. I mean it won't be as good. I heard you talking to your friends about it the other day." She admitted bashfully that she had eavesdropped on his conversation. He shrugged, not really caring that she did so. She did make him curious, however.

"How would you do it?" He asked, feeling a small spark of excitement growing within him. It was the similar feeling he got when he started to grow his hair out and listen to the music his dad didn't like. He liked feeling that he had control over his own self even if Neil would beat him for it later. He was sure Kim didn't know that, otherwise she wouldn't have done it.

"I just need a sewing needle and a potato," She rambled, bouncing on the heels of her feet as she turned from him and rushed out of the room. Billy sat; a bit startled at how excited she had been. It made his heart feel like it actually had a purpose, "It might hurt a little bit. I don't think it'll bleed though. Which ear?" She admitted. He felt his eyes widen as she crawled on top of his bed, straddling a leg between his. He tried not to focus on the way her dress bunched together or how close she was to him right now. He was sure his heart hadn't ever beat as fast as what it was right now. He motioned randomly, not really caring as he tried not to focus on how her dress dipped down and exposed her soft cleavage. He fought his internal thoughts, knowing how hard it would to be hide a boner if it popped up.

She was gentle with her touches, taking her time as she picked out the best spot to put the hole. The needle touched against his ear, and she apologized, but he didn't feel any pain as she poked it through. He thought it was weird to have a potato behind his ear but grasped the concept well enough. She flicked her hazel eyes towards him but looked away quickly after realizing he was already watching her. He liked the way she would part her lips in concentration and how she furrowed her eyebrows together as she worked. He was sure, that he had never wanted to kiss someone so desperately the way he wanted to kiss her right now. 

"Is a hoop, okay?" She asked after removing the needle and cleaning his ear softly. She wobbled a bit, off balance as he reached up to grip her hips to steady her. He felt his whole-body stiffening, trying to ignore the feeling that was rushing through his chest and down his stomach and clear to his toes. He watched the red forming over her face, but she didn't say anything as she slid the hoop in, "It was the only other pair I got there." He felt kind of bad taking her other set, but she looked proud as she glanced at his ear. He let go of her softly, wondering why he could still feel the curve of her body against him even though she had moved away.

As much as the two younger girls tried to include him in family outings and gatherings, it never worked. It was like Neil had found his perfect family and Billy was no longer included in that image. He'd been left out more than once and even if he was included, their parents acted like he didn't exist. Holidays and birthdays had never happened when it was just him and his dad. He thought the last time he had celebrated was when his mom was still around. He couldn't explain how badly it hurt watching Neil make a big deal out of the other two. He bought them cake, threw them a small party that was full of gifts. When they'd question why they didn't celebrate Billy's birthday he'd bitterly tell them that he didn't like parties. He was sure neither of them knew when his birthday was.

He had memorized her birthday. September 14th. She was six months younger than him, and she liked strawberry cake more than vanilla or chocolate. He had never eaten strawberry cake with mint ice cream before, but it was two of her favorites. He had gotten her a diary, pink with lace details around the edges. She hadn't written in a while, but her eyes had still brimmed with tears when he gave it to her. He grumbled in response, not sure how to handle someone looking at him like that. 

As much as they all seemed to get along, he was spiraling out of control, and he knew that. He was losing himself as the winter months approached. It was too cold to go to the beach and Winter break always tended to be bad for him. At least in the summer he could find odd jobs and busy himself. There was nothing in the winter to busy himself. It was always the worst time for him. He drank more, smoked more and did as many drugs as he could get his hands onto. He didn’t care what it was, but pills were easier to hide and take. He was well aware that he was angrier and more snapped more often than usual. It just meant that Neil would hit him in return, and it was wrapped into a cruel cycle. They only time he ever felt relief was when Kim would help clean him up. He liked her gentle fingers and soft voice.

He had been partially out of it when Max approached him, sobbing and saying she wanted to leave. She wanted him to take her to her dads. He had felt bad when he told her no, but he couldn’t imagine the beating he would receive from Neil if he snuck her away. He hadn’t actually expected her to leave on her own, but she did. He had no idea that she had actually left.

Kim was ever so lucky to be in San Francisco at the time. It had cost Neil a ton of money, but it was for a school trip, and she was Kim, so he had easily agreed to it. Billy was supposed to spend the night watching Max, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to know that she would sneak out of her window. She was caught by them, and Billy was beaten so badly that he went unconscious. He woke up the next day in the later afternoon and decided that he had finally had enough.

It had taken everything in him to drag himself out of the window, barely able to move but he did so anyway. He walked for hours and hours and thought if this is how his mom felt when she left him. He wished she had at least given him the fighting chance. He would’ve preferred couch hopping with her than to be with Neil. She used to call every day and he’d call even more if he had the chance to get on the phone without Neil knowing. He used to pray that one day she would appear again and whisk him away to safety, just like she promised. 

He knew now that it was a lie. She had gotten her escape and she had taken it. He was angry at her for it but deep down he knew that he couldn’t blame her. At least one of them got out. 

He sat up there, legs dangling over the overpass as he looked down at the flashing lights and honking cars underneath him. He thought it was funny that they were all concerned with some silly thing while he was waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. He had bought cigarettes and beer from a gas station not too far away and flirted with the cute worker behind the desk. He considered sneaking off with her for one last fuck but realized she’d probably be too freaked out over his bruised and beaten body to actually do anything. He had continued walking, not sure of where to go when he finally collapsed up here. His body was too exhausted to move anymore. So, he smoked, and he drank, and he wondered if anyone would miss him.

He had leaned forward, making peace with his ending before he was yanked back just as fast. Some luck he had, “Boy, what are you doing?” He was yanked up by an officer, looking to be around his father’s age. The older man paused as he stared at him, taking in the young boy's condition, “Are you okay?” Billy was exhausted. He couldn’t remember a time when someone had asked him that. Maybe it was the alcohol or the pure agony he felt at the moment, but he burst into tears. Sobbed like he had when he was younger, and his mom told him he was leaving. 

The officer waited until he was done, patting his back gently and Billy felt more comfort in a stranger than he had ever felt in his father. He was so sick of his life, mentally drained. He didn’t think he could go back, “M’fine.” He finally babbled out, wiping his eyes. He was so angry with himself.

“Let’s get you home, do you have a home?” The officer was guiding him towards the cop car, carefully watching the way Billy limped inside his car. He was beginning to panic. He had somewhere to go, sure, but did he want to go back? He had nowhere else to go.

“Yeah,” He told him the address, the seats burned against his back as he rested. He hoped they never made it, “Thank you.” He didn’t feel thankful at all. Instead, he felt the claws of fear beginning to sink into him. Gnawing at his skin as the cop drove him back towards his dreaded house.

“Someone do that to you?” The cop asked after a few minutes. Billy turned his head towards the window, doing his best to act like he was fine. He shrugged.

“It’s nothing.” He didn’t know what his dad would do if he ratted him out. Not that he thought the cops would do anything anyways. He was sure once his father spun his story about how horrible he was the cops would agree that he deserved it.

“Let me help you inside.” The cop insisted once he had pulled over. Billy felt his heart coming alive, thumping in fear. He didn’t let it show, kept his face neutral as the cop watched him. He finally nodded in agreement, hoping that anyone but his dad would answer the door.

Each movement up the steps left him biting his lip hard in agony. He was sure that he looked like a mess. He was still wearing his outfit from the previous day and hadn’t even tried to clean the blood from him. He wished someone would do the same to his dad, show him what it felt like trying to walk around like this.

He wanted to open the door, tell the cop he was okay, and he could leave now. It didn’t happen. The officer knocked and waited by the blonde boy. He leaned back against the porch steps, trying to enjoy the last bit of freedom he had. He was sure, once this was all over with, that Neil would never let him out of his eyesight again. He had been dumb.

“Mr. Hargrove?” The officer spoke up and Billy’s eyes snapped towards him, not remembering that he gave him his name, “Billy here was in a bit of trouble, nothing he caused, but he needed a ride back. I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me?” The officer towered over his father. Neil’s harsh blue eyes snapped to him, looking angry. Billy realized that Neil hadn’t even known he was missing.

“Of course,” Neil gulped hard, forcing a smile at the officer, “Thank you for bringing my son home. We’ve been searching for him all afternoon.” Billy hesitated at the door, feeling invisible again until the officer turned to face him.

“Head on in, boy. Go shower and get some rest. This is only between your father and I.” Billy did his best to walk straight, ignoring the stabbing pain that was traveling down his back and through his legs. He kept his eyes straight, ignoring the hateful look his father was sending him. Billy wished he had been brave enough to jump. He was sure it would’ve been less painful. 

He ignored Susan’s horrified look, heading straight to the bathroom and locking himself inside. He turned the water on cold, needing to shock himself out of the haze he was in as he stripped down and tried to scrub himself clean. He couldn’t ignore the pain from his injuries and inside of him as he broke down in the shower. He hated crying. He hated how weak it made him feel. He hated how he could only ever be angry.

Billy had thought that Neil would kill him when he returned. He thought that he would finally get rid of the son that he hated. He didn’t. Billy was surprised when he entered his room, not full of anger or malice. 

“I haven’t been a good father to you,” He admitted, sitting next to Billy at the edge of his bed. Despite it being warm outside and, in the house, Billy wore the longest shirt he could find and pants that dragged on the floor when he walked. He could feel his injuries well enough, he didn’t need to see them too, “Things are going to change now, I promise. Everything will get better after this.”

It was almost worse. Neil and Susan had raided his room, taking away any drugs or alcohol they could find. It took everything in him to convince them to let him keep smoking, he even promised to only do it outside. They controlled his money for a long time and soon after that, they agreed that California was too dangerous for their children. He heard them talking, and between him and Max they were too out of control. Kim was never mentioned once. Always staying in her stupid, perfect little bubble. She had looked towards him with questioning eyes, but he did whatever he could to keep her away from him.

His dad was different for a while. He didn’t hit him as much or nearly as hard. Billy could still see the deep anger that was threatening to spill over the older man, however. He knew it wasn’t over, whatever he had been planning. Max and his relationship had changed too. They had never really gotten along anyways but now he completely resented her. He had completely destroyed the old skateboard he had gifted her in a fit of rage, leaving her to find the discarded pieces. It was easier to have someone else to share the blame with.

Kim, as always, was oblivious. It took her a while to understand that something had changed but she seemed too afraid to ask what had happened. Of course, she didn’t do anything out of her usual to get in trouble. She was perfect, even without meaning to be. Billy sometimes wondered if Max was jealous of her in the same way Billy was. She had come to him on one of the nights of her return and gave him some ointment to care for his bruises. He never used it. It was like he needed a reminder so he wouldn’t do it again. He feared that even in death, his father would have some control over him. 

“We’re going on a-,” Neil exhaled softly, “A long vacation for a while. Somewhere far away so we can all bond better. I realize this has been hard on all of you. We should’ve given you more time to adjust.” He slid a small brochure of a quiet town towards them. Billy grasped it hesitantly. 

Kim peered over his shoulder, still unable to understand how close she could be. He had to bite down on his lip hard to ignore the feeling of her soft breasts pressing up against his shoulder. It was even harder not to glance at where her shirt had dipped down and exposed her cleavage, “Hawkins? Where is that?” She had pulled away, looking at him confused as if he would know the answer. He had shrugged, still feeling her touch against his skin.

“My father used to live a few towns over. It’s a nice little community, it would be a good break for all of us.” Neil emphasized but stared only at Billy. Billy had a gap forming in his stomach as he slowly searched through his words. He understood that this wouldn’t be a vacation at all, this would be permanent. There were no more spots in California for him to run to, so now Neil was going to whisk them as far away as he could. Away from the beach, from the memory of his mother and his past mistakes.

Susan and Neil kept up the vacation lie until the moving truck arrived. It was like all hell had broken loose as the two girls slowly realized that they wouldn’t be living here anymore. Kim was in a puddle of tears meanwhile Max was hot and fiery, threatening to tear everything down they had built. It only made the move that much quicker.

“I was supposed to come and get you,” Kim’s voice was soft as she stepped on the warm sand. Billy neglected to look at her, staring out at the waves as he rested his feet in the sand. She sat down next to him, pulling her legs towards her chest, “I don’t want to leave either.” She admitted but he was sure she had a completely different reason than what he did.

The truth was, it didn’t matter where they went. He’d always be alone, afraid of Neil’s shadow while everyone else moved on with their lives. He should’ve been quicker the other day, not been such a coward so that he wasn’t leaving everything behind. He hated everything.

He stiffened when she leaned forward, pressing her soft cheek against his hard shoulder. It felt completely unnatural, and he was sure, without a doubt, that she was the first person to ever lean against him. It took him a long time to relax, to feel comfortable enough to even exhale as her head rested against him. Instead of thinking about what she had under her clothes, he wondered what it would be like to hold her. To touch her softly. He wouldn’t try, he’d break her without meaning to. 

“I’m ready,” He said suddenly, moving away quickly. He didn’t need to think those thoughts, it was dangerous. He was reckless and she was anything but that. She nodded, trying not to look offended as she moved away from him. She stood first and he followed slowly afterwards, “You’re riding with your mom?” He looked for her confirmation, but she sent him a nervous look.

“Actually, Neil wants me to ride with you. He's still driving the truck and mom is taking her car.” She told him cautiously as she brushed the sand away from her shorts and skin. He felt his eyes lingering on her long legs. He wondered how he’d be able to spend all of those hours cramped in a car with her. 

It hadn’t been as bad as what he thought it would be. She was mostly quiet, looking out the windows and he was fine with that. He didn’t have anything to say to her. He was sure the only reason she was stuck in the car was so that Neil would make sure that he didn’t try to escape. Not that he had any plans to do so. He had no money, no other family. He was stuck, going wherever his father dragged him along to. 

“Can I turn a song on?” She was almost cautious as his loud music turned to a commercial. He had almost forgotten what they were doing, so lost in his own bitter thoughts. He glanced over at her, feeling his eyebrows furrowed together before he nodded.

“Sure,” He grumbled softly, “Just don’t lose the station.” He told her. She nodded softly, flicking through the stations. He felt his jaw go slack at the music, if you could even call it that, fill his ears, “What is this?” He turned, looking at her almost stunned. She looked at him bashfully.

“Reba,” She answered him slowly, looking defensive as he broke out into laughter, “What? Reba is cool!” She cried out. He wasn’t sure about the singer, but he knew that he didn’t like country music. Still, he felt more relieved after a long time. Almost as if everything would be okay. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. He felt a little happier, like maybe things really would change. Her hazel eyes warmed his insides, helping him seal that belief. 

“Whatever you say.” He was grinning so hard that it hurt. He didn’t know why this made him laugh so hard but it did. She was still stumbling over her words, trying to defend her music tastes. Her cheeks had turned red again and he had a strong urge to reach over and squish them together. She always looked so soft and sweet. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

Hawkins was shitty. San Diego seemed like a dream compared to how this town was. He had an easy time making friends, he fit in well enough. The only thing that he really liked was the power that other people had given him. It stroked his ego, the only one that seemed to have no interest in him was Steve Harrington. He didn’t know why that bothered him so much. Maybe it was the way he feared he could see right through him.

Kim was a completely different story. She didn’t mesh in like she had in San Diego. Max had even adjusted easier than her. 

Billy was surprised. Kim had her own little group of friends in San Diego and now she had none. He had heard her trying to talk, noticing how painfully awkward she had sounded. He thought she had it all put together, he was wrong. She seemed to be just as lonely as what he was. He was just better at pretending to fit in, he realized. 

By the third day he couldn’t take her moping anymore. She had been quiet, more quiet than usual on the rides to and from school. She had nothing to add when their parents asked about how school had been. She had lost the pep in her step, failing to find anyone to speak to. He felt guilty suddenly, realizing that she hadn’t done anything to be forced to move. He wondered if she secretly hated him for it.

“Come on,” He looked at the pitiful redhead sitting alone, her lunch tray untouched. She looked up at him, her sad eyes swirling with curiosity, “Let’s go.” He held his lunch tray with one hand, motioning towards the table of jocks waiting for him. She looked at him in disbelief, her large eyes widening.

“I don’t know them.” She mumbled, her cheeks already flushing red. She stood anyway, holding onto her lunch tray as Billy waited. He shrugged. He didn’t care if she knew them or not, he just wasn’t going to let her sit alone like some loser. She was so much better than that.

“You know me,” It was partially true. He knew her. He was sure that she had absolutely no idea who he was. He was fine with that, preferred it that way. She followed him behind like a little puppy with its ears perked high and tail wagging. He headed towards the familiar spot near Tommy, letting her sit down in his normal spot before he joined her. He began to pick at his hamburger before he noticed the questioning eyes from the group of guys. He sighed, “Kim.” He motioned towards her before he began to eat. That’s as far as he would go into explaining himself. 

It stayed like that for the next three weeks. She followed him like she was his shadow and normally he would get mad, but he couldn’t find himself to be angry when she looked up at him with those big hazel eyes. Girls had begun to flock to her but when he’d ask if any had made plans to hang out, she would respond with sadness that they had only been interested in him. It made him feel guilty all over again. 

Her friend, Addi, arrived not much later. As much as he hated to admit it, he soon grew to miss her constant lingering and badgering. He liked feeling needed, like he was important to someone. He still saved her spot next to him at the lunch table, just in case. 

“There’s a basketball game coming up,” He approached his dad cautiously. He had seemed to be having a good day, “On Friday night. You know, if you don’t have anything to do.” He hated how desperate he sounded. Neil pulled a beer from the fridge, sparing him a glance before he popped it open. Billy felt like throwing up, smelling his own desperation radiating off of his body. 

“I’m taking Susan out that night, but I’m sure you’ll do what you always do.” Neil never praised him, never told him if he did anything good. He hated how he was always dragging his feet along, seeking for some sort of validation from his father. His father had never been to one single game for any of the sports he played. He wasn’t sure why he thought Hawkins would be different. Maybe he really had been fooled into thinking everything was different. He attacked his wall that night, leaving a gaping hole in the drywall. He covered it with a poster, promising to fix it soon enough. 

He put all of his anger into sports when he played. He was sure that he even played dirty sometimes, but he didn’t care. He was crossing the gym, some cheerleader hooked around his arm as she raved about how good he had played. He didn’t care about what she was saying, he only wanted one thing from her. His footsteps faltered as he looked up, meeting those hazel doe eyes.

“What are you doing here?” It sounded like he was snapping at her when he didn’t mean to. He winced, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to think of how to rephrase his question. She looked a bit stunned but seemed to shake it off.

“I came to see you play,” She strained a smile, looking sincere as she spoke, “You played really well. You could be a professional.” She exaggerated as she complimented him. The girl next to him snorted and he suddenly wished he hadn’t agreed to take her out. Kim made it so hard, so frustratingly hard to do anything with her. He wished he could hate her. Yet, she had been the only one who had ever shown up to any of his games. His heart seemed to start again as he watched her curiously.

“You liked it?” He tilted his head, liking how bashful she looked as she played with her fingers. He watched her thick eyebrows pull down over her eyes. Her smile lit up the whole night sky from outside the school. He understood suddenly, why people risked dying in wars. He'd do anything to make her smile like that again as a feeling that resembled love filled his body. 

Only Billy didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her. He wasn’t capable of feeling love, he didn’t know what it was. His mom had told him that she loved him, and she left, never to be found again. It was a scam that people held onto, so they didn’t feel quite so lonely. 

“Yeah, I mean I didn’t really understand it but you played well.” She admitted and that was more than enough for Billy. He smiled back, feeling as if it was genuine as he admired her soft features. His eyes lingered against her tight jeans and the sweater she was wearing. It was so simple, yet it drove him crazy. He’d do anything to look at what she had underneath. 

“Are we going?” The girl on his arm questioned, tugging him back down to the Earth. He glanced towards her, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Sorry, I can’t,” He motioned towards Kim, “I have to take her home.” The girl let go of his arm and Kim looked at him alarmed, trying to disagree with him but he had already made up his mind. There was nothing the cheerleader could give him anyways. He wanted something else, someone else. 

“You didn’t have to,” She sounded almost remorseful as she walked next to him. There was a large distance between them as they walked out of the gym. He watched her curiously, not quite understanding her, “I don’t mind walking.” He knew well enough what Neil would do if he heard that he had left precious Kim to walk alone in the dark while he brought someone else home.

“No, it’s fine. Are you hungry?” He asked her, opening the large door for her as they stepped out into the night air. She held her arms around her chest, hugging herself as the chill air engulfed them. He thought of how cold she was all the time.

“Sure,” She seemed a bit unsure as she walked with him towards his car. He didn’t blame her. He had more tendencies to snap at her than anything. It was easier to do that than to actually think about her, “Where do you want to go?”

He just didn’t know how to handle her. She asked his opinions on everything, always giving him a choice. She was there for him in a way that no one else was. It made him sick; it made him want to warn her to run far away before he ripped her apart and she found out how terrible he actually was. 

He thought of her that night as he laid in bed, tossing and turning. It was so wrong, so terribly wrong but he didn’t feel relief until he pulled his boxers down and pumped his hard cock to the thought of the cute redhead sleeping in the room next to his. He thought of how he could’ve put his cock down her throat in the showers, how pretty her lips would look stretched around his thick length. He’d make her watch him, make her swallow his cum and leave none behind. He was breathless as he imagined her bright doe eyes watching him pushing his hard cock into her wet cunt. He came hard, like it had been the first time he’d touched himself. He didn’t embarrass easily but the thought of wanting his stepsister this badly left him a flustered mess. He didn’t understand why he wanted her so badly and he was beginning to hate himself for it. 

He had an easier time talking to Kim at first. He was still bitter with Max, and they ended up fighting more times than not. He liked irritating her but not in the same way that he liked to tease Kim. He still blamed Max for what happened. If she hadn't been dumb and left none of this would've happened to him. He'd pick on her and her friends, purposely doing things to see how far he could push her. She was just as fiery, getting on his nerves. Kim tried to be the median but usually failed, the other two were too stubborn for her to handle.

Halloween approached and he felt himself spiraling again. He was tasked with driving Max around to go trick or treating, even though Kim had wanted to join her. He wanted to be anywhere but with the little brat. Kim was on lockdown, forced to pass out candy because Neil had told her she was too old to actually get candy. Billy had already had enough of Max's rotten attitude and ditched her at the first opportunity. It was a small town; she couldn't go far. He had heard the kids talking about a party at school and that's where he found himself. He didn't remember much about that night, other than Neil beating him with his belt. The pain was just as terrible drunk as what it was sober. 

He was gone again, lingering in his own dark thoughts as the days grew shorter. He hated the cold and refused to wear one of those dumb, heavy coats. Kim would come out, looking like a marshmallow with all of the layers she was wearing. He wasn't sure how she had managed to be the only constant in his life or why she constantly defended him. He had heard her trying to explain his actions towards her sister more than once. He was lost and had no idea what he could offer towards her. 

She was spending the night with Addi when Max disappeared on him for the second time. There was a different amount of rage that filled in him, knowing that the young redhead had done this again after the last time he was beat so bad. When he had found her at the odd house, surrounded by three boys and Steve who had blatantly lied about where she was, he thought the worst. He had his own experience with woman at the age Max was now, he didn't need Steve to try and bullshit his way out of it. He took all of his anger out on Steve, knowing how much easier it was to hit someone else. Max had surprised him that night, smacking him in the head with a frying pan. It was enough to knock him down and keep him in a daze for a while until he was actually able to drive them home. They never spoke about it again, but he was furious. He wouldn't ever let her treat him that way again, he was sure of it. He still got beat by Neil that night, but the pain almost felt good at that point. Max had hurt his ego and their relationship changed again because of it. 

He remembered the next day at school, how Steve's eyes had lingered on his injuries. He was well aware of what the other boy was thinking. Steve knew he didn't get that many good hits in, but he never brought it up. It wasn't until Hopper caught him within the next few days, questioning his home life and father. Billy was nervous. No one had actually ever asked about his injuries before. He did his best to brush it away, play it off. He could tell the cop didn't believe him and was constantly on his tail about something from that incident. Billy began a routine of fighting some poor soul every time Neil would hit him in the face. Most of the time he was already bruised but people neglected to remember that after the fight was already over. 

"What's this?" He grumbled, looking at the cardboard box Kim pushed in front of him. She was grinning as she sat across from him on the couch. Max lingered behind her sister, her arms crossed as she watched him. He pressed his fingers to the box, unsure of what he was supposed to do with it.

"It's your graduation present!" Kim beamed, looking happier than what Billy was. He raised an eyebrow at her, not quite believing that they had actually gone out of the way to get him something. Neil hadn't even mentioned it. She scooted forward towards him, "Open it." She pushed at his thigh softly but then quickly pulling her hand away as she seemed to remember the way he didn't want touched by her. He glanced back at the box, popping it open slowly.

It wasn't much. There was a can of coke, a bag of Cheetos and a Milky way. His hands lingered against the objects, pushing them aside as he noticed the pack of cigarettes, the new lighter, and a random baseball card. He glanced towards her nervous face, watching the way her eyebrows drew tightly together. He gulped hard, feeling an ache in his chest. It wasn't much, but he loved every bit of it. It was nice, feeling like someone cared for him enough to actually gift him something. He didn't know how to handle it.

"Thank you, I love it." He mumbled, too afraid to look at her for too long. He could feel his heart strumming roughly in his chest again. He didn't know why she put such an effort into things when his father didn't even care enough to do so. She was a complete mystery to him.

Summer came and Billy was almost adjusting to the idea of being ripped away from his previous life. He had made some friends, if he could even call them that. He had gotten a job as a lifeguard at the pool. It wasn’t the most thrilling thing, but he liked what he did. It reminded him of being back home near the beach. He still wondered if his mom was looking for him out there. He tried not to linger on those thoughts too much. 

Much to his dismay, Kim decided to linger at the pool. It was like she was purposely trying to distract him, make his job ten times harder. She never even wore anything distracting. It was always some kind of ruffled swimming suit that seemed to cover her best assets. Billy was happy, but slightly disappointed at the same time. He neared where she was sitting with her friend feeling an unthinkable rage fill him when he had overheard Steve’s name in the same context as getting into her pants. 

He had no idea how he had managed to overlook that Kim had a crush on Steve. Of course, of all people she would pick him. It made him feel bitter and angry. He wanted her to talk about him in that way and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t do relationships, he knew that. He’d never be able to be in a healthy relationship and he was sure that no one would want him like that anyways. 

Their interaction had left him hot and bothered. He thought it would be quick, that he’d be able to jack off a quick one and brush his bad idea off later. He was just beginning to get into it, thinking about his favorite fantasy of him bending her over the front of his car when she barged into the room in typical Kim fashion. He was mortified, completely humiliated that she had caught him.  He had spent the rest of the day panicking, praying and hoping that she couldn't overhear any of his thoughts. 

He couldn’t tell who had it worse, him or her. She had completely given him the cold shoulder, ignoring him the next few days as he tried to think of a way to explain himself. Everything felt too awkward and he decided at this point, it was better to ignore he. He spent all day working and would wait hours until everyone had left to shower before he went home. Seeing Kim only made his dick throb and his thoughts were making him angry. He waited for Neil or Susan to approach him and complain about his horrible behavior. They never did.

It was worse seeing her at Tina’s party. He felt his interest growing as he watched her. He hadn’t ever believed that she had a bad bone in her body, that she would actually risk sneaking out and drinking. He tried his best not to think about her. She was unattainable, she had Billy drooling from his lips. He wanted her so bad. Just one bite and he would be satisfied. He was almost sure of that.

He was fucked, utterly and completely fucked when he heard his name coming from her bedroom. So quietly, so dirty that he almost missed it. His body warmed in a way he couldn’t explain as he imagined what she was doing at the moment. He wondered if she knew how to use her fingers yet or if she was grinding up against one of the many stuffed animals she had on her bed. He wished nothing more than to see her, to be able to touch her. The conversation he had that night told him a lot of things.

She wanted him just as badly. 

Everything that Susan had said left him, all of his guilt about his fantasies slid away. He was already damned. He didn’t think he could do anything worse. He accepted it. He was fucked up; he had known that for a long time. He finally felt like accepting it, as long as he was around her. She didn't make him feel like he was on his own, like he was completely alone. She was always sweet with him and cared for him in a way that nobody else seemed to do so. He hated how badly he wanted more of it. He wanted her, completely.

He didn’t care that it was just sex, he was perfectly happy with that. He didn’t need her around forever. She was just some girl. Once he was away from Neil, he’d be gone forever, and he wouldn’t ever think about her again. He hadn't even fully planned on taking her to a motel to take her virginity. He would've been happy to spread her out in his backseat. Something about seeing her dancing with Tommy left an unknown feeling in him. A feeling he had been trying desperately hard to deny. He didn't want anyone else to touch her, to be around her. He changed his plans, even though the motel was scummy she seemed happy. He thought that she deserved better and reminded himself it would just be a taste. They'd leave right away.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't pull himself away from her big doe eyes that seemed to never really look happy. He couldn't imagine pulling away from her and leaving her all alone. He didn't want to be the reason she was sad. He was sure that was worse than spending the night with her. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to touch her in case he broke her. He had never spent the night with someone before. It was different than all of the other times he'd been with someone. His heart ached in a way that he couldn't explain. He lingered away from her touches, fearing that he would grow addicted to them. 

Each interaction they had left him wanting more. She was like a drug. It was fun at first, seeing how easily she gave into him once his cock was inside of her. She made him feel so good, made him want to rub it in Neil’s face that he had corrupted his golden child. He thought that he could still make his life go back to normal. There was just one thing holding him back.

Kim.

He knew he was mean to her. He didn't want to be but didn't know how else to tell her that she deserved better than him. He didn't want her to get attached to him because he knew he would break her without meaning to. He wasn't able to take care of someone else in that manner. He didn't know how to do it. He had never learned, never been taught what real love was. 

He had hated the idea of her so badly at one point and now he wanted nothing more than to make sure she was okay. He was mad, mad that she had gotten hurt when Neil blew up. He wished he had done more, that he had finally been strong enough to fight back. He was a coward. He thought of how sweet she had been to him in the past. She never seemed to truly judge him, instead it was like she was trying to understand his actions. He thought it was cute, but he knew that she would never truly understand him. He had locked himself away a long time ago and barely knew himself anymore. He wondered what their lives could’ve been if Susan never married Neil and Billy’s mom took him with her. 

He watched Susan’s car back out of the driveway. It was hardly ever used; they had only bought it once they moved to Hawkins. Billy was sure that Neil had promised her it was a gift for their new beginnings. Everything seemed to be falling back to normal. Well, just about everything. Kim and he were far from normal. Swaying between some odd line that they had managed to destroy. She had sobbed for him, and he was utterly terrified that she may be thinking this was more than sex. 

He blamed himself for how he had indulged in her gentle touches. He liked kissing her, he liked holding her in his arms. It was painful trying to pull himself away. Guilt ate at him every time he did so and she watched him with those sad eyes. He didn’t know how he could do so many bad things to her, and she kept coming back, acting as if he actually deserved someone like her. 

He worked quickly before Neil came out again. He grabbed up the dirty books she so innocently tried to deny. He pulled out the new clothes she had bought, his fingers lingering against the lacey material of the lingerie. He left them in a pile on his bed, covering them with his blanket before he went into Max’s room. He really didn’t want to snoop in her room, not really believing that she had much to hide. He gently took down the pictures of her and her friends, not wanting Neil to try and call her any names for the number of male friends she had. Everything else seemed to be fine as he hid those too. 

He waited in the living room, trying to rest against the couch as he bounced his foot to try and calm his nerves. She had said she would try to call but he didn’t know when that would be. He hoped it was before Neil came out of his room and began to search for anything to get mad about. Billy wasn’t the one he was mad at this time, he was safe.

He waited, resting his head against the armchair and crossing his hands over his stomach. He was worried that they wouldn’t come back, then again, he hoped that they didn’t. It would be good that at least some of them got out of this hellhole. He was glad it was at least Kim.

His eyes felt heavy as he rested against the couch. He urged the phone to ring, so he could hear her voice to make sure that she was okay. He kept sitting up, glancing over to make sure it wasn’t off of the hook. His stomach began to twist as the hours began to tick by and he realized that she wouldn’t be calling. He shouldn’t be surprised. He was used to being forgotten, used to being a second thought. 

Still, the way she had cried over him made him think that maybe there was something different. That she wouldn’t be the one to leave him behind. He had been wrong about many things before and couldn’t see how this was any different. He was surprised when he didn’t feel anger, just the growing feeling of loneliness as he wondered what she was doing right now. He was sure she was just comforting her mother and sister. That was why she wasn’t able to call him.

Billy made his way to the kitchen, grabbing the rest of his beers before he locked himself away in his room. He was thinking too hard, too much. He needed to forget and there was only one way he knew how to do that. He popped open a can of beer, thinking about how the last time he had been so drunk that he didn't even know his former slimy teammates had tried to touch Kim. He had been glad when he beat Jason up. He was sure the broken arm was overkill, but it felt good. He wanted to make sure that he knew to never hurt her again. His friend, Chase, had gotten it worse but Billy was sure that Kim hadn't seen him yet. He wondered if she would think that he was a monster, that he was slowly becoming his father.

He dug into his dresser, ignoring the dirty picture he had taken of her. He was still surprised she had allowed him to do it. It made his heart flutter; he had looked at it at least once every day since it had happened. He dug far underneath where he had hidden the picture from the wedding. He pulled it out slowly, looking at her beaming face and the way he was watching her in the photo. Susan was right to be suspicious at the time. He could understand now as he looked at the picture. He didn't understand why he had kept it at the time, but he was glad he did. They didn't have any other pictures together and if Susan was to leave his dad, he would have nothing left of her. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut as he quickly pushed the picture away and tried not to think about what would happen if Kim left him. 

He drank more, wondering how he had managed to entangle her into his messy life. He rested the can on his table as he laid on his bed, careful not to disturb the items he was hiding. Neil hadn't moved yet, but that didn't mean he wasn't waiting until Billy went to sleep. He sighed softly, rolling on his side as he rested his hand on his pillow as he imagined he was cupping her soft face.

[ribcage-rodents]

Chapter one: A HP Rip Off

 The first week of school was always the worst, for Persephone moving to the larger junior high meant a longer walk back to the orphanage. She had never been fond of school, seen as a freak by the other kids and a fire-starter by the teachers. Although this year Persephone had completed the first full week without getting detention, a new record since second grade. At least Mrs. Hamphrey will be surprised she didn’t get in trouble yet. Persephone quickened her pace as she passed the Robinson house, they were an older couple with a big vicious dog. It always barked when she walked past. Today was no different, the dog threw itself against the fence as she passed, the fence creaked, Persephone tried to ignore it but the horrid sound of splitting wood caused her to break into a run.

The dog chased her through the streets. Animals, especially dogs, always seemed to hate Persephone, crows stalked her and rats flocked to her room. The smell of smoke filled the air as she broke through the orphanage gate, the sounds of deep barks transferring into painful whimpers, Persephone already knew what she’d see when she turned around. The dog cried as flames licked at its fur, it let out one last scream before exploding on the porch.

A yell came from the orphanage, Mrs. Hamphrey stood in the second floor window scandalized at the mess. “So much for not getting in trouble,” A burning dog would be a frightening unusual occurrence for most people but Persephone was different. Strange things followed her like a wildfire and had landed her in juvie more than once, whether it’s the school computer lab burning down or smoke filling her room.

Persephone tried to sneak past Mrs. Hamphrey but to no avail the awful woman caught her the minute she stepped foot into the orphanage. “Miss Thysia, would you please come into my office.” Her voice was strained, a key indicator that Perseohone was in deep trouble. The office was small and beige decorated with cross stitching works and few family photos. Persephone sat in one of the two small chairs opposite the desk. Mrs. Hamphrey’s face was red. “In all my years of working with orphans I’ve seen some truly appalling behavior but nothing could have prepared me for you. I’ve heard of delinquents killing cats but blowing up a dog is inconceivable. Between you burning down the computer lab and that time you boiled the tanks at the aquarium I’m afraid that you are too troubled for our facility. We’ve tried juvie and it obviously didn’t help. I believe we are going to have to send you to a specialist nature center, I am calling the trip organizer the minute you leave my office. You will leave as soon as possible so I suggest you pack up your things.” Numbly Persephone left the office, usually she worked to defend herself but it was obvious that Mrs. Hamphrey wouldn’t hear a word of it. The Nature Center is essentially a death sentence for kids, the ones that return are completely stripped of their personality. Persephone was going to pack her things but not for the Nature Center but to run away, there was no way she was being shipped off to that facility.

As she entered her room it was devoid of her roommates, she preferred it that way. They were all scared of her just because she’s caught the room on fire a few times. A green-wax sealed envelope sat on her bed. 

To Persephone, Wisteria Castle Orphanage

Cleasaíocht agus Draíocht,

The Twenty-ninth of August

Dear Persephone Thysia

We hope this letter finds you in good health as we cordially invite you to attend the Cleasaíocht agus Draíocht. Please board the 413 train to the fairy ring gardens. We eagerly await you.

Sincerely,

Esus Glindor

 It was an oddly vague letter with a few dollars inside for a train ticket. “This is probably a stupid prank,” She thought but it was a way out, she could buy a train ticket and ride as far away as possible. The short walk to the train station was bitter cold, Persephone shivered in her light jacket. The train was filled with tired students and desolate workers; there were no other eleven year olds with moderately empty bags. 

She chose the caboose car, it was relatively clear except for a few other passengers. Over the next day it emptied, pardon one other student entered the cart. “Oh,” She had never seen anyone who looked that extravagant, with a dark green silk dress with pink floral embroidery and a matching scarf wrapped around her head. But most extraordinary was the curtains of thick lilac hair pooling over shoulders and down her back. Persephone blinked the jealousy of fancy clothes and expensive hair stylists away. “Uh, hi I’m Persephone,” Deep indigo eyes took her in, making her immediately aware of her shabby hand-me-downs and frizzy hair. “Hello,” She spoke in an odd lilting accent, “My name is Andromeda Von Etoile,” “Jesus, even her name is fancy,” Persephone moved to load her single bag into the overhead bin but tripped on the cuff of her too long jeans, Andromeda smiled slyly.



The cart was filled with uncomfortable silence until the next stop when three more students filed in. A horse-faced girl sneered at Andromeda as she helped a short round girl push her bags into the overhead bin. Persephone could sympathize with her envy. The girl pushed her own bag to the ground to free up space for a quiet chubby boy with a mop of dark hair that hung in an unattractive wreath around his head; he chose to sit next to Andromeda regardless. Clearing her throat Persephone worked up the courage to introduce herself again, “I’m Persephone,” “Carmine Ketchem,” The horse-faced girl said. “Hera MacAlasdair,” Added the round girl in a chippy brogue pushing honey corkscrew curls behind her ear. All eyes moved to the quiet boy, “Uh, Alfred Redl Renner,” His voice was as timid as he looked. “Andromeda Von-” Carmine cut her off with a snort, “Musha, I’m surprised you can even say your entire name with all the air you use up being a blowhard,”



Andromeda’s eyes turned icy as she spoke “And I’m surprised that you can stand upright under the weight of that ego.” Tension stretched until Hera spoke up, “I wonder who we’ll be shackin’ with,” She seemed the type to take control of a situation almost like a motherly figure. “We share rooms? With how many people?” Andromeda asked. “You didn’t know?” It was the timid boy, she looked into his sad, downward-sloping eyes, they were a little too far apart, it made him look strange like an alien. “Garish kids like you probably bribe the board for private housing,” Carmine jabbed at the same time Hera spoke up, “Usually about four,” Andromeda nodded.



The last of the common passengers filed off as the conductor announced the next stop to be the Fairy Ring Gardens. A cruel smile crawled over Carmine’s face, “You realize the school is all the way up in the Hillas right, we have to stay in sleeper cars for the night,” Andromeda looked as if this information was as interesting as the morning weather report but nevertheless turned unusually pale.



The rest of the trip continued with idle chatter from the three girls, the timid boy sat with downcast eyes and fiddling hands. Andromeda watched the world pass by through a crack in the curtains. At the stroke of eight the conductor called for light out. “Who’re bunkin’ with?” Andromeda froze under the sudden attention, “Oh please garish type don’t share, I’m surprised you don’t have a servant here to load on your princess bed,” She turned sharp eyes to Carmine, desperate to prove her authority, “Well I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sharing after all doesn’t your family all pile on the stained mattress in your one room hovel like a pack of stray dogs,”



“Alright, lets-” Carmine cut Hera off, eyes flashing dangerously. “Did you just call my family a bunch of urchins?” “Well you have the mange of one,” “That’s it!” Carmine snarled. Andromeda squared her shoulders and bent her knees but between Carmine’s fury and Hera’s protests the squeaky wheels of the refreshment cart warned them to act docile.



“What’s going on in here!?” He was a tall, lanky man, only a year or so post graduation. “Nothing sir!” Hera spoke though it was obviously a lie from Carmine’s red-faced fury. His tired eyes moved from one passenger to the next, he shoved a hand into his pocket. “S’alright.” He didn’t offer any food or drink but the tension in the car seemed to leave with him. 

Persephone had idly thought of telling him the truth, but causing unnecessary trouble wasn’t worth it, instead she turned towards Hera. “Why didn’t you turn them in?” “They are both volatile in different ways, I don’t want to be on the bad side of either,” She spoke as if the answer was obvious which Persephone didn’t appreciate.



“I will share a bench with someone, or I will even sleep on the floor,” Hera proposed. The night continued without incident. The first several moments felt suffocating. “Do you think someone is gonna be haunted this year?” Andromeda rolled over at the grating sound of Carmine’s voice. “Why would anyone be haunted?” Silence followed Persephone’s question. Carmine eventually spoke, her voice eerily dramatized, “Decades ago our school was a hospital for sick witches and victims of witch-hunts on account of the healing water. Hundreds of people died and it’s said that the evil Abbadon was raising a dead army when he was vanquished.” “Do you think they might possess a student to achieve revenge?” Alfred’s soft voice wavered in fear. “What are you still doing here?! Boys and girls can’t share rooms!” Hera yelped, Alfred in turn sheepishly gathered his carry-on and left into the dark hallway.



“I hope I’m not haunted..,” Persephone admitted, “Don’t worry they go after the garish type not halflings or changelings” Carmine said at the same time Andromeda snorted. They shared a glare. Persephone didn’t understand any of the terms they used but she didn’t feel like getting patronized by Hera again so she kept her mouth shut. “How can you not believe in ghosts? I mean look at the world we live in,” Andromeda raised one brow to Hera’s question, “I’m intelligent,” Carmine’s temper boiled over again. “You spoiled garish rat! You think you are so much better than everyone else just because your parents are rich!” In response she merely smiled and rolled to face the window a quote echoed through the car.“‘The man that squanders life away in decrepit darkness hunting the damned is one that craves the companionship of mottled flesh and sunken eyes for he has no vibrant joy among the living.’ Sir Arthur Decorum, The Tiresom of Men, 1829.

When the train finally stopped the sun had painted the sky pink and orange. When Persephone woke up Andromeda’s bench was empty. The students slipped off the train with their bags in toe. As a group they wandered from the train platform into the surrounding woods. Early morning dew drops collected on their shoes as they neared a large circle made of white mushrooms. Slowly the students began to dance, Persephone joined them. 

A gentle tingling sensation started at her fingertips and the souls of her shoes and slowly traveled up her body. The sunlit woods started to fade around her, falling into a blur of green and brown until like Christmas lights red mushroom caps painted a circle around them and the world refocused. It was suddenly colder and the woods around them were far thicker.



“Are you ok?” Persephone turned to find a warm smile and kind eyes. “Usually changelings are kinda weirded out their first time here,” “Uh-” Persephone eloquently responded. “Oh sorry, I don’t mean to confuse you, uh your parents weren’t good folk right?” Persephone ignored his question in favor of her own. “What is going on here!? Why does everyone have such colorful hair and what’s wrong with your ears! How’d we get here!?” She panicked.

“Oh right, you’re probably pretty confused. We are good folk.” Persephone stared at the green haired boy. “Good folk as in fairies and leprechauns and druids?!” He nodded. “Yup, we are fairies, I’m a full fae that’s why my hair is green and my ears are pointed. You got a bit of unnatural red in your hair. Are you sure one of your patients isn’t a good folk?” Persephone grimaced. “My parents are dead.” He blanched embarrassed.

“Is it possible one of my parents could have been a faerie?” Persephone shook the thought from her head, there was no way. “There would have been signs if I was magic.” “I am not part of the fae I need to leave.” She said heading back towards the fairy ring or mushrooms. “Wait! You have to at least be a changeling if you were able to make the fairy ring work, you have to be magic to get here.” Persephone shook her head. “I don’t know what a changeling is but I promise you I am not one. I don’t belong here, this was a mistake.” The boy grabbed her arm. “A changeling is a faerie with human parents, I think you are a halfling on the count of your hair, both fae and human parents. Plus you do belong here, come into the school at least, if it was a mistake one of the teachers will be able to tell.” The boy dragged her along with the other students up to a jagged cliff side. An older faerie pulled against the rock face opening a secret door leading to a splendid interior.

Persephone held tight to her bag while the other students dumped theirs in a pile by the doorway. She took in the extravagant architecture and indoor waterfalls. She watched as staircases rotated from landing to landing lazily, several of the hallways were made of water, they didn’t seem to flow freely but were tranquil like an aquarium and yet fish seemed to jump through the surface.

Her admiration was interrupted by a man dressed in splendid crushed velvet navy robes appearing before them, three professors at his sides. Silver stars danced across his robes as he spoke. “Welcome students to the School of Cleasaíocht agus Draíocht! Or more simply known Cad! We are in for a wonderful year of music, dance, festivities, competitions, and of course magic!” A round of whooping and applause filled the cramped room. “But first we must get you accustomed to your rooms.”

A woman in burgundy who perfectly embodied the fairy-tale evil witch, stepped forward, “Alright, you’ve had your fun now let's get you settled in,” She called on all years seven through five then turned on her heel and began to march towards the nearest staircase, a gaggle of students followed after their teacher. The next Professor was charged with fourth and third, she was dressed in blue. Her voice was as stern as her face, the students followed without argument or fanfare. Finally the last teacher, a thin sallow man in indigo robes. He simply motioned forward the remaining students with a sneer.

Persephone stood in place trying to find the door so she could leave. The older man gently tapped her on the shoulder, “There will be plenty of time to admire the school later my dear for now you must find your room ” He said with a wink. “There;s been a mistake, sir, I don’t belong here.” She said hoping he wouldn’t be mad. Instead he smiled brightly. “Quite the contrary my dear you are the most important student here.” Persephone stared at him shocked. “Why don’t you come to my office?”

She followed the older man through the exquisite school to a round room filled with magical trinkets and a large oak desk. “I have the rare power of divination power. I have premonitions.” He stood motioning to a large crystal ball sitting on a pedestal along the edge of the room. “You see the future is fluid, it can easily change depending on any miniscule decision one person makes. I saw one possible future and millions of hypothetical courses it could take, you stood out to me. I knew that I needed to keep you safe until I could get you to our school, now that you are here we can work together to stop the unseelie from taking power.” Dark smoke swirled in the crystal ball, slowly forming the mask of a devil-faced-man. “You see there are two courts in the faerie world, the seelie court and the unseelie court. The seelie court understands the importance of humans in our world but the unseelie wants to destroy all human life including changelings and halflings. They believe that humans diminish the faerie power. Their leader was vanquished by me but it opened up to a greater much more powerful threat, one that resides inside our school. I have reason to believe this to be Andromeda Von Etoile, her family is from the Glades. Her mother’s side of the family, the Bludstones have been almost completely stripped of all power after the last uprising due to their involvement with the unseelie court but her father’s side, the Etoiles have never been proven to be in league with the unseelie but it’s highly expected.”

Sir Glindor met her eyes seriously, “You are the light, the savior of the world. “I’m the savior?” Sir Glindor nodded gravely, “If you choose to be,” Like most children Persephone harbored a fantasy where she starred as the chosen one in a fantastical world but now that a destiny had been dropped at her feet she felt sick. Sir Glindor walked her towards the first year housing.

The common room was dark with walls showcasing the bottom of the murky lake. The rooms were not much different except there were no roaring fires to warm or lighten. Persephone was assigned room 202, she met with Carmine, Hera and a pale girl named Etain inside, each one already picking out their bed. 

The rest of the day was filled with idle chatter and card games. Carmine remained abrasive but Persephone began to enjoy spending time with her roommates. Dinner came quickly and they ventured to the dining hall, a spacious room filled with circular tables both on the ground and sprouting from the walls like mushrooms on trees. Although the spread was extravagant Persephone found herself not very hungry, too consumed with this new world, her new destiny. 

Sleep was not easy to find, still feeling like an intruder at this magical school and stressed over her meeting with Sir Glindor, yet eventually she did doze off. She woke up in a different room, this one was round and made of rotting wood. A bubbling cauldron was in the middle of the room, a tall man stood behind it stirring it almost lovingly. In place of a face he wore a devil's mask with a wide smile. He stared right at her, silently. As he stirred the cauldron it’s green flame spread across the floor licking at the walls. Persephone struggled to get away, the piercing scream of her mother filling her ears.

She sprang up from her bed. Taking a few deep breaths Persephone crept from the room, phantom burns seared into her legs, her plan was to calm down in the common room but the fires were suddenly no longer comforting but rather smothering. In a moment close to panic she left. She followed a small blue fish through the hallways as it swam.“If I can’t sleep maybe I can at least explore the school a little bit,” The winding hallways and rotating staircases took her deep into the school though she didn’t care much of getting lost merely trying to drive the dream from her mind.

As she reached a new hallway a noise alerted her to someone else. A shadowy figure lurked behind a statue of a hag, Persephone half expected the monstrous man from her dream to come lurching from the darkness but instead there was a flick of periwinkle hair. “Andromeda! I knew she was up to something.” Taking a deep breath to gather her bravery Persephone stepped forward. “What are you doing out here?” But there was no reply, carefully she crept forward but once she reached the hag Andromeda had disappeared.

[riftofthestars]

chronicparagon​:

The night stretched on, but after her nightmare, Harmony couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in bed, but has no luck after she saw her past haunt her once more. She can barely smell the terrible smoke as the hellish flames ravaged the forest that she knew and loved as a child. She can never forget the searing agony of fire devouring her flesh, even after all these years. Her life hung by a thread, a burning thread that almost snapped in two. 

She surrenders and gets up from bed. A black sweatshirt goes over her lavender camisole and black shorts: Typical bedclothes for her. Harmony steps into shows while brushing her hair, only to set the brush on her nightstand before leaving. The quiet walk through the night helps a little. Harmony often finds comfort in the stars shining bright in the heavens. 

But the silent trek comes to a stop when the scent of smoke reaches her. The smell made her stomach twist into a knot before sinking within her. Her heart quickens as she thought about where the smoke came from. Where is that coming from? That scares her, very much so! 

Sweat forms on her palms as she quickens her pace. Worried mingle with silent prayers for the source of the smoke to not be something dangerous. Oh, she hopes there is no wildfire. Though terrified, she can’t let any possibility such a terrible happen again. She must know, just to be sure! The source of the smoke is a fairly short distance away, but it seems so far away from Harmony. The trail seems to stretch despite actually closing in to the source. She quietly pleads that there is not the beginning of a growing inferno. 

Not another one. Dear God, no another one! Please, please, please! 

She follows the curve on the trail, stopping to see the smoke is not from a wildfire or even a bonfire. No, it’s from a cigar. Some relief washes over her from this fact. A hand rests over her chest as she takes in a deep breath to calm herself, only to see that the man standing alone with the cigar is familiar. Is there a reason why he is on his own tonight, too? Would he tell her? It’s hard to say, but perhaps Harmony can offer some help. 

At least, lend an ear. 

“Hey.” Her soft voice shatters the silence as she approaches the Jailer. “I see you’re up late too…Are you okay?”

@riftofthestars​

The Jailer watched smoke rise from the lit end of his cigar and mix with the one he blew out. Most of his mind was empty, simply taking in all of the sensations that stuck to him the same way water to a duck did: the chilling air of the night, the warmth in his mouth and at the back of his throat, the scent of the smoke that disperses in the wind. Although somewhere, in the back of his mind, thoughts never stop racing like a dream he plays over and over again as he is waking up. 

Notes, dates, names, places, numbers. Notes. Notes. Notes. There is some relief in knowing the stress comes only from the overload of work this time, rather than the corpse he carries within himself. Even dead, that thing still mutters with a thousand voices sometimes. But knowing that is not the cause relaxes him some, only for that relaxation to disappear as soon as he hears someone’s steps coming his way.

While calm on the surface, he curses out whatever soul had to make their way towards him while he puts on his mask and pretends to have just finished smoking.

He snuffs out the cigar with his hand before breaking it in two, and realizes that he had forgotten his silk gloves just as he puts the remains in a trash can. Stress must have made him forget them behind. The fact that he recognizes that voice only makes this situation worse.

He could hide his hands in his pockets, which he does, while his shirt is able to cover up his arms. 

“I could ask you the same.” He turns to face her, knowing he will be unusually stiff when compared to their date. “I have heard you running as if you were chased over here. Is someone after you?” At least he is managing to sound calm while he looks over Harmony. 

[schuylerpeck]

Hey, my hair smell like dried grass and I love you.

Friends asked for help with their harvest and the evening unfolded into the memory of a simplest time. Nails black with dirt, kneeling in the potato field, filling and emptying old paint buckets, the repetitive motion like a song or a prayer letting the mind drift through the clouds. Patient like an ember, the longing for a slower life consumes my patience more and more. I both fear and hope for the day it'll finally burst into flames.

One by one, as the occasions unfold, I lead my friends to a little end of the world. There's not much there –after all what else is there to expect at world's end ?– and the road nearby drowns it with a constant growl but it's lovely still.

Autumn rain still carries the rumbling of summer storms, the air still smells like warm asphalt and we find refuge in the closest library. Have you noticed how all libraries smell the same ? I never did until today, sat on the ground in the poetry aisle, browsing idly through an unfamiliar anthology. It smells like paper indeed, but also of the plastic they cover the books with and, faintly, of this strange vanilla~like aroma carried by ancient ink.

At night, I fight against sleep to stay in a strange in-between, lulled by thunder and the crackling of droplets on the blinds, knowing too well each storm may be the last of the season. Often I wonder if it'll turn into an white night (as we call all-nighters here), but it never does.

My gifts for you today, for no other reason than we're here in this world at the same time, are both the lullaby of raindrops against the windows, the scent of old books, and the hope that we can one day go together to a little end of the world, be it the one I already know or another.

I hope you sleep tight, when night reaches you. I don't know you but I love you.

Hey, the crickets’ song is picking up and I love you.

the more I write you, the less my day-to-day comes to mind in what I want to share. it’s always the deeper wonderings that poets want to wander in, isn’t it? I bought a desk and the seller told me it was his grandmother’s. my knees are pleading with me to take the mornings slower. today, the hairdresser and I swapped stories of when the sea almost stole us from the shore. I’ll always love how days frame themselves in verse, but here in the everyday, it feels like I’ve been toeing the edge; getting by on little bites, but eyeing the full meal.

my best friend and I took to the trees; the last trip of the season, though my heart sinks with this recognition. smoke from wildfires further south snaked across the sun and thickened the clouds, turning the sky an eerie yellow haze. I could look out in real-time, see my dog rolling blissfully in the dirt, the yarrow dry and gone to seed, even hold my hands close against my face, and almost still believe I was thumbing through old sepia photographs. we sat and read, wrote, and walked in silence at times, contented by the hush of the mountains and feeling no inclination to break it. out of the concrete, far from email’s reach, the best timekeeping (or rather, the lack of it) is left to the woods. we threw around guesses all afternoon until we watch the blood-red sun sink past the treeline. we must’ve eaten dinner by 8PM and crawled into our sleeping bags right after; too eager for sleep. the night erupted with crickets; trees relaxing their shoulders, swaying in the breeze. here, where I feel so alive in every moment, even as I giggle to myself, flitting between fear and reassurance and fear again under the stars—in the wild of the forest—I wonder my place in it all. a voyeur? a visitor? a child’s face pressed close to the glass?

I tucked sweet-smelling herbs into my pocket and want to know how to use them. an owl sang to the moon and at first, I mistook it for a coyote howl. I want to know its name. I know someday soon I’ll leave the city and not pass along my forwarding address. days like this, it couldn’t come soon enough. and if for no other reason than we are here at the same time, my gift to you, in between an adorably small pinecone and a poem written from the hammock, is the hope that we can come back and plan for a longer stay. no longer little sips of living or saving our best laughter for a Saturday. no little bites of wonder, but open fields and thickets of it. are you hungry to explore it too? I’ll grab my jacket and meet you.

I hope you sleep tight, when night reaches you, thoughts still tinkering with words. I don’t know you but I love you.

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs: 2

It’s been almost a week since Steve, Sam and Bucky came to fight the wildfires. You’ve got a routine down with the guys, and so does Cooper. You always have food ready for them when they leave and when they come home. Coffee is always ready for them when they leave and Cooper is waiting at the door for them when they get home.

Each man has taken huge comfort from your therapy dog, and he loves all the extra attention he’s getting from the three men. Cooper does force his way into each of their rooms at one time or another over the week and you’ve got a feeling that those won’t be the only time you’re alone on the couch.

Cooper had followed Steve into his room tonight and you’d gone to bed alone.

You wake as you’re being lifted. “What the hell?” You gasp with a start but you’re shushed softly, his scent fills your nose and you calm quickly.

“It’s me Fawn. I’m putting you to bed.” Steve says softly as he carries you up to your bedroom. “I’m gonna share a room with Buck, you can’t keep sleeping on the couch.”

“No, you’re fighting the fires. I’m just hanging out here.”

“And getting up at all hours to take care of us.” He argues as you try to get out of his grip. “Fawn, I’m not backing down from this one.” He says, his Alpha coming out as he tightens the hold he has on you, his face is close to yours, close enough for you to see the little flecks of green in those blue eyes of his. You sigh and loop an arm around his neck,

“Fine.” You grumble, you’ve heard the Alpha command in his voice, the voice that you literally can’t argue with. “But wouldn’t it make more sense for Sam and Bucky to share?”

“You’d think. If they have too much together time they get snippy. So I’ll just bounce between the two beds.”

“Are you sure?” You hope to change his mind but his face tells you that isn’t happening.

“Yes. You’ve opened your home to us, let us borrow your dog and taken care of us. You deserve your bedroom.” He says shoving open the door with his foot. He sets you gently on your feet and then gives you a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He leaves and closes the door gently behind him. You climb into your bed and sigh softly, it is nice being back in your bed. Not that you’ll ever tell Steve that. It smells like him, it’s comforting and you fall asleep quickly.

You’re up a couple hours later, you pass a sleepy looking Steve in the hallway and a slightly confused Cooper. You head down the stairs and get some coffee going for Sam and pop the blueberry bagel he likes into the toaster. Then you move on to Bucky’s food. You take the plate you’d prepared the night before out of the fridge and peel off the cover. You turn the oven on warm and slide the plate in then go back up to bed and find Cooper sprawled out across it,

“Move over Coop.” You grumble as you climb back into bed. You’re asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

The next time you wake it’s 8:30 and you’ve got to get food ready for Steve. You can hear him in the shower as you head back down to the kitchen. You like to make a full breakfast for the first meal to make sure that they don’t get hungry too quickly while they’re working. Today you’re planning on doing breakfast burritos, something that you can each assemble on your own. Steve comes down a half hour later, just as you’re wrapping up your own burrito.

“How did you sleep?” He asks reaching for a shell.

“Pretty good, Cooper is a bed hog.”

“I’ve noticed he likes to be almost on top of you when he sleeps with you.”

“Part of his training. The weight can help people with anxiety or stress and you all have such high stress jobs.”

“We really appreciate both of you. You sound like the best host from what we’ve heard from the other guys.”

“I’ve always been a caregiver so it’s nice having people to help. Even if I can’t help in the same way that you guys do.”

“Believe me, knowing that we can come home to a bed, good food, a kind soul and a therapy dog is more help than you’ll ever know.” You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face,

“Good. Any requests for dinner tonight?”

“Something pasta?” He offers finishing off his breakfast.

“Okay.” You agree and hold a hand out for his plate.

“Thank you, for everything.” You nod as he stands up and heads for the door.

“Be safe.” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

“I will.” He says, a pleased scent rolls off of him before he heads out to work. Your conversation with him has given you an idea, but you’re going to need some help.

You get to calling other therapy dog handlers in the area. You know that it’s a big ask for them to come to the base of the mountain when it’s on fire but it’s for a good cause. You’ll set up with as many dogs for as many shifts as you can, every couple of days to give the dogs a bit of a break, the handlers too but mostly the dogs.

You’re able to get fifteen people in the area and you have two dogs per shift, even the 4 am shift. You’re able to rotate the dogs in a couple of shifts, so that no one is going too often and the dogs can get a little bit of a break.

You’re so excited that you’re able to do this for them, and you get to start today. You decide to head to basecamp to let Steve know. You want to make sure that the firefighters stop at Blots coffee shop before they head back to their homes tonight. You head toward base camp, it’s only a few miles up the mountain and park near one of the trails you know that skirts the forest. The smoke is worse here than it is near your house but it’s not terrible. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder then make your way up toward Pancho’s Bar where you know they run the fire fighting operation.

As you walk the air gets thicker with smoke, it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe but you can taste the smoke on every inhale. Before you get to Pancho’s you see Steve a little further down the street talking to two other firefighters. He seems so much bigger in all of his gear, as you make your way toward him he sees you and his brows furrow. He pushes past the other firefighters and makes his way to you with long strides.

“Fawn?”

“Hey,” you say and Steve looks, almost worried.

“Fawn, what are you doing up here? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve got a surprise for the firefighters. Down in town.” You tell him suppressing a cough, “I didn’t want anyone to miss it so I thought I’d come up.”

“Oh, hey Grey.” You have to stop yourself from frowning at Brock, he’s such a jerk and his smell is always so sour.

“Brock.” You say before you start to cough.

“C’mere,” Steve says pulling his face mask away from him you step closer and when he hands it to you you take it. “Take a couple of deep breaths for me okay?” He says and cool fresh air tinted with his scent flows into the mask that you hold over your mouth and nose. It soothes you more than you’d like it to. “The smoke is way worse up here. You should head back to town.”

“Please let people know to come down to Blots for the surprise okay?”

“So how do you know Grey?” You do frown this time.

“Sam, Bucky and I are staying at her place.” Steve says gruffly not looking at Brock but keeping an eye on you. You hand Steve back the mask and give him a little smile. “I’ll make sure to tell people. Please go right back to town.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Bye Grey!” Brock calls and before you can leave Steve stops you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“Why does he keep calling you that?”

“Because I’m boring. Like the color grey, there’s nothing exciting about me.” Anger crosses his face and he glares in Brock’s direction.

“That isn’t-“ he pauses as you cough again and he once more passes you his mask, “breathe.” You do as he says, “we’ll talk about this back at the house. But that’s not true okay? It’s not true.” You nod then hand back the mask. “How did you even get up here?”

“There’s a trail that Coop and I use a lot, on the edge of the woods and it’s quick and easy.”

“Straight home okay?”

“Yea.” You agree before realizing that he’s just given you an Alpha command, you glance over your shoulder at him and when you see he’s watching give him a little wave before you start walking back down the mountain. You feel his eyes on you until you round the corner. The wind has picked up a bit since you’d come up but it’s nice, and moving the smoke further up hill. It probably doesn’t make fighting the fires easier but at least it’s not pushing anything downhill.

You hear the crack but it doesn’t register until it’s too late. The branch hits you in the shoulder and you collapse under the weight of it.

You’re dazed, you must’ve hit your head because it’s throbbing but you’re not sure if you’ve lost consciousness or not. Your right arm is pinned under the massive branch and your left has some wiggle room but not enough to do you any good, especially with the throbbing pain in your left shoulder. You try to push with your legs to slide yourself out from under the branch but have no luck. Your phone is in your right pocket, right where you can’t reach it. But your watch might be able to help you still.

“Friday?” It beeps twice, “call Steve.” He’s the first person you think of.

“Calling Steve on Stark Phone.”

“Call him on watch!” You say but it doesn’t. “Damn it!” You watch the watch until it says connected. “Steve! I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m pinned under a branch. Halfway to my car. God please be able to hear me. I can’t reach my phone. I really need help.” You take a steadying breath to try and keep yourself calm. “Go down the hill by the forest, you can’t miss me. Please help.” You try to free yourself again but it’s hopeless, the branch is too heavy and you manage nothing.

God you hope that Steve heard you, or that his voicemail did. You don’t know how long you lay there, occasionally struggling against the branch but you suddenly hear him.

“Fawn!”

“Steve! I’m here!”

“Fawn! Keep yelling Honey!”

“I’m here! By the woods! Steve!” You can’t see him yet but you swear that you can smell him, so you keep yelling, “I’m here! Over here!”

“I see you Fawn! I’m coming.” Sure enough a set of hands lift the log off of you and another set pulls you out from under it. “Don’t move.” Steve says easing you gently back onto the ground. “Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t know. I think so?”

“Buck, check for concussion.” He orders from where he’s holding your head.

“Bucky? What time is it?”

“Almost 7. Sam called about an hour ago, but I didn’t answer because I was busy. When you called I knew something was wrong.”

“Steve calm down.” Bucky growls pulling a flashlight from his pocket.

“I feel like such an idiot.” You whisper as Steve takes a deep breath. Bucky shines a flashlight in your eyes then holds up a finger.

“Follow the finger.” He says and you do as he says and he gives you a smile. “You’re good.”

“I’m just glad we found you.” Steve says softly. “And that you’re okay. Does anything hurt before we move you?”

“My left shoulder but that’s what the branch hit first.”

“I’m going to just check it really quick okay?” Bucky says and you nod, he gently probes at your shoulder. He hits where the branch did and you hiss at the jolt of pain, a low growl comes from Steve. Bucky runs you through a couple of moves to see if it’s dislocated and once he’s satisfied that it’s not he gives you the all clear and Steve helps you to your feet.

“Buck, let Fury know I’m going back with Fawn.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Last time I let you go alone you got hit by a branch.”

“That’s what we call a freak accident.”

“I’m still not letting you go alone.”

“But you’ll miss the surprise!”

“I’m staying with a therapy dog. I don’t need to go meet other ones.” He huffs, you can practically feel the irritation rolling off of him. You frown but he has a point, you glare up at him, “Let’s go Fawn.”

“Stop it.” You snap, even though your stomach lurches at your defiance of his Alpha command.

“Stop what?”

“You keep Alpha commanding me!” He looks surprised for just a second then schools his expression.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly, “I didn’t mean to. When an Omega does something dangerous it just kind of happens.” You stare at him, how the hell does he know you’re an Omega?

“I’m not an Omega. I’m a Beta.” He looks sharply over at you his eyes narrowing.

“Huh,” he doesn’t say anything else but gestures for you to follow him down the mountain.

When you get to your car you look over at Steve, still in all his gear.

“Do you need to go get anything?”

“Buck can drive the truck back rather than getting a ride. Do you want me to drive?”

“If you don’t mind.” You hand him the keys, you’ve got one hell of a headache and your shoulder is throbbing but Bucky gave you the okay to go. After you get in the car and buckle you sigh softly before muttering, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Causing problems. I was just so excited about the dogs that I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have gone up.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He agrees, “I had a big long speech ready for you but you beat me to it.” You laugh softly then wince, laughing hurts. “Let me know if we need to take you to the ER.”

“I will.”

“If you’re comfortable I’d like to take a look at your shoulder and probably ribs before we go to bed. Bucky is our best EMT but I still know what I’m doing.”

“Fine,” you grumble and he shoots you a look. “I’ve learned over the last week it’s just easier not to argue with you. Besides, I don’t need you Alpha commanding me again.”

“Damn right it’s best not to argue with me. But I won’t Alpha command you to do anything, at least I won’t on purpose. Please let me know if I do again okay?”

“Oh, okay.” You’re surprised, but you do appreciate it.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Serving Under Fire

Bretheren we have been betrayed! Long years of patience, long years of sacrifice, all undone by the feeble heart of one who once swore an oath to our cause.  We must find him, we must return what he has stolen, ‘ere else the Lady will scorch us down to our very bones! 

Synopsis: The Enkindled Earth,  A Pyromaniac cult seeks to overturn the established order and reshape the very land itself. Their plans for a great, earth-shaking ritual are only forestalled when a member of their order remembers his conscience, and steals a powerful relic essential to their calamitous aims.  Now on the run from his fellow cultists, and from the authorities, this turncoat’s ultimate fate as well as the fate of the realm now rests in the party’s hands. 

Adventure Hooks: 

it’s easy to brush off the threat of the Enkindled in the early campaign. They’re raving street preachers, weirdos who dress in rags and dance around bonfires in the countryside, village outcasts who’ve found solace in a strange religion.... Then they get together and start burning temples, and people start to pay attention. Bounties are set out, the party gets involved, and soon the heroes are battling through a smoke filled cave while a babbling madman lobs clods of bubbling pitch at them. It’s a grisly job, taking the cultists alive, and it’s worse because the martial that gave them the bounty insists on the party attending the public execution of their prisoners before handing out their pay. Even to the last miniute the Enkindled exalt their cause, claiming that the earth itself will shake with thier lady’s wrath. 

In a way you could almost see the cultists’ point of view, their movement started in response to the enclosure of public lands by a series of greedy lords looking to rationalize their holdings and maximize their profits. While tax policies arn’t usualy of any relevance to an adventuring party, they may begin to care about it when they hear tell of a dungeon that was known to exist on this enclosed land... land that is now patrolled by a lord’s well paid men looking to prevent trespass or poachers. 

There’s been rumblings out in the badlands recently. Plumes of smoke on the horizon and dark clouds that blow in carrying sulfurous rains. No one knows quite what causes it, but numerous badland predators such as minotaurs and basalisks have been seeking new habitats recently, and someone needs to hunt them down before they go seeking it in civilized lands. 

Setup: The Enkindled Earth serve a sorcerer by the name of Agdellena, a pyromancer of terrifying potential who’s gathered the dissolute around herself the way you’d stack dry wood and tinder on a bonfire.  Always a charismatic and willful woman, Agdellena’s path of destruction started when her parents sent her to a convent in hopes of breaking her defiant spirit. After enduring over a decade of harsh “ discipline”, Agdellena’s powers awakened, consuming her abusers ( and fellow victims) in a pyroclast along with the temple itself. Now free and surging with elemental power, she strode out into the badlands clad in the soot-blackened robes of the high-priestess, ready to revisit the pain she’d suffered upon the world at large. 

While the Enkindled may speak of revolution, renewal, and an overturning of the established order, Agdellena’s aims are far more literal: using her followers to gather enough power to create a massive seismic event that will litterally “overturn” the landscape, countrysides swallowed by ash and wildfire as cities fall into the earth or are buried in lavaflows. To achive these apocalyptic ends, Agdellena has spent nearly two decades out in the wastelands perfecting her magic and gathering her powerbase, and has achieved the skill required to rip elementals free of the landscape and bind them to her will, having them tutor her in their primordial magics. 

With their help she built the Collignis, an arcane focus made to collect the power of burning holy places and the furvor of her own followers, storing it up like a metamagic battery until it was needed for the shaking of the earth. The Collignis was stolen during one of these temple burnings when Lels, an idealistic member of the Enkindled who was given an ecstatic revelation by the god who’s  temple he had just set alight. In that vision Lels saw the scope of Agdellena’s plan, and the destruction of his home, a small village that he’d left and joined the Enkindled in order to spare from the poverty forced upon it by their neighboring lords.  Ceasing the Collignis he reduced his fellow zealots to ash and ran, hoping to find someone who’d believe him before the cult caught up with him and reclaimed their holy relic. 

Further Adventures: 

The party can encounter Lels in a number of ways, either by intercepting an Enkindled temple burning ( which just so happens to be the one Lels has his revelation at), or by meeting up with an allied authority who the repentant cultist gave himself into the custody of. Desperate to be heard but wracked with guilt, Lels will gladly give up information on cult activities in order to get the party to believe him about the threat of the lady out in the wastes. 

The lords and magistrates who the Enkindle defame critically underestimate the threat they represent. Too set in their ways and intolerant of any form of disorder, these elites are content in throwing dissidents and reformers alike into their dungeons and sending groups of sellswords after any who resist. The party may find their battle against the cult impeded when they get caught between a group of innocents and the feudal enforcers. 

To reclaim what was stolen, Agdellena will summon a meteor like elemental and send it chasing after the Collignis. Crashing in when it’s most inoppertune, the party gets a preview of their enemy’s preview as they must battle the creature while protecting the relic and escaping from the building set alight by it’s landing. 

[90stvshowgoth]

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

[talktomeinclexa]

The South Tower

by: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: September 11 Attacks

Status: Complete

Summary: When a plane collides with the South Tower of the World Trade Center, Clarke and Lexa are trapped inside.

***

The deafening sound of an explosion makes the windows of the 97th floor of the 2 WTC tremble and the cup of coffee in Clarke’s hand shake, spilling its content all over her top.

“Son of a—” she yells, surprised by the hot liquid spreading all over her chest. Good thing she got it 15 minutes ago and has been too busy to drink it until now, or the burn would have hurt tenfold. “What was that?”

The shouts and panic-stricken faces of her coworkers do little to reassure her. Like everyone else, the junior graphic designer walks toward the windows, anxious to find out what happened.

About 200 feet away from them, the top of the north tower is engulfed in flames, dark smoke rising into the clear blue sky and obscuring the view. Whispers spread like wildfire, but Clarke is too shocked to catch any of them clearly. What on earth happened? An accident? A bomb?

The fight-or-flight response soon triggers, and several people make a run for the elevators, only to be stopped by Thelonious Jaha, the CEO of Arkadia Marketing Agency. “Please, calm down. There is no need to panic and risk getting trapped in the elevators or trampled in the staircases. I will call the authorities to inquire what the official recommendations are. In the meantime, return to your desks. We have a meeting scheduled in ten minutes,” the middle-aged man says with his usual reassuring voice bordering on patronizing.

A few people grumble at his priorities, but all workers comply, not wanting to risk his ire. The difficult financial situation Arkadia is in is no secret around the office. The upcoming meeting with Mount Weather, Inc. might make them or break them.

Clarke checks her watch with a sigh. 8:50 A.M., leaving her just enough time to try to salvage her top and wash away some of the coffee before the Rorschach stain becomes permanent. It will give Cage Wallace — MW Vice-president and notorious fuckboy — yet another reason to stare at her boobs, and the thought makes her skin crawl.

Hoping that no one will have a last-minute-question-that-absolutely-cannot-wait, she rushes to the toilets closest to their office. Luckily, everyone else is still recovering from the shock, and she has the whole place to herself. Or at least she thought so until the door of one of the cubicles opens, and a man bearing a striking resemblance to Ian McKellen yells at her, “Fly, you fool!”

“Hmm, yeah, okay. Thank you,” she mutters back, too surprised to wonder where he came from or why he was in the ladies’ room. He’s gone before she can stop him, the door slamming behind him with an ominous sound.

Cleaning her top is as tedious and useless as she feared, and she barely makes it back in time before Jaha calls for the meeting to start. Her chest feels damp and her blouse transparent, and for the 100th time in less than 10 minutes, she wishes she had brought a cardigan that morning.

“Good morning, everyone, and thank you for being here today,” Jaha begins before pointing at the two men behind him. Their crisp matching suits cost more than Clarke’s monthly salary, and she does her best to avoid the younger man’s lecherous eyes. “Let me introduce Mr. and Mr. Wallace, the CEO and—”

Before Jaha can finish his sentence, another explosion occurs, and the entire tower shakes. People scream and fall from their chairs, and Clarke feels pain erupt in her leg when someone lands on her ankle. She tries to stand but lets out a cry of pain when the nerves flare up and the joint begins to swell.

Chaos erupts around them, and this time even Jaha rushes toward the stairs, not caring if any of his employees follow.

Clarke drags herself near a chair and hauls herself up until she can sit on it. Her ankle hurts like hell, and if it’s not broken, it’s at least severely sprained. Just her luck. How is she going to evacuate on a bum leg? Hop the 97th floors down?

“Can you help me?” she yells as a man walks past her, a slice of cheese on his head. Is everybody losing it, too, or did she inhale something she shouldn’t have?

“Clarke! Clarke, where are you?”

“Lexa?”

It’s her wife, radiant as always despite the anguish on her stunning face, and the blonde can’t begin to question why the lawyer is there, on a Tuesday morning, in her office. Instead, she hugs her, the smell of wood and rain she came to associate with the brunette comforting her in seconds.

“Clarke, we have to go. The tower is going to collapse. We can’t stay here.”

The artist wants to calm her wife down and tell her that everything will be okay, but words elude her. What is Lexa talking about? How can a building as modern as this one fall?

Before she can find her voice again, some of Clarke’s coworkers return, their faces half-burned and covered in soot. She recognizes some of them, although she didn’t remember them wearing formal, dark clothes during the meeting.

“We’re trapped. The staircases are burning and full of smoke. There’s no way out.” Wells Jaha, the CEO’s son, stares at her with a defeated look on his fair face. A piece of metal protrudes from his neck, and blood dribbles down to his chest, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Long minutes pass in silence. Arkadia’s employees spread around, praying, hoping for a miracle, waiting for the firefighters to reach them before they suffocate. Clarke has no idea how long has passed since the second explosion. Her watch — a gift from her father for her 18th birthday — remains obstinately stuck on 9:03 A.M.

“Lex,” she whispers when the smoke finds its way on their floor and threatens to swallow them whole. “You have to go. You’re fit; you might make it out if you find stairs that aren’t condemned.”

The brunette stares back at her with a sad smile, one of her hands caressing Clarke’s leg. “And what about you? I don’t think I can carry you all the way down.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Clarke wraps her hand around her wife’s nape, pulling her closer into a devastating kiss that tastes like fire and smoke. She doesn’t care that some of her coworkers can see them. She can’t give a fuck about what Diana from HR might say about “inappropriate PDA in the office” and “her life choices.” She kisses Lexa like she needs her to breathe; like her life depends on it… Except it doesn’t, not anymore, and there’s nothing the other woman can do to save her now. “You have to go, Lex. I won’t make it, but alone, you have a chance. You need to live for the both of us.”

A tear rolls down Lexa’s cheek, following the cut of her jawline until it drops from her chin, but she makes no move to stop it. Oblivious to it, she takes Clarke’s hands into hers and presses their foreheads together. “Not without you.”

Clarke lets out a wet chuckle and shakes her head. There she is, her adorable, stubborn wife. Of all the times she could choose to appear, does it have to be now, at the world’s end? She opens her mouth to protest, but soft lips swallow her words, and she closes her eyes and surrenders to their silent declaration. Because Lexa loves her more than anything in the world, more than life itself. Just as much as Clarke loves this infuriating, wonderful specimen of a human being.

The smoke is hiding the ceiling now and getting thicker, leaving them with less and less oxygen to breathe. Some people are passed out on the chairs and the floor, mercifully unaware that they might be running out of time.

“Shit, my phone can’t get a signal,” Clarke groans, looking at the uncooperative icon showing no bars. 9:55 A.M. Soon, she thinks, no questioning how she knows.

“Here, try mine.”

After smiling at her wife in gratitude, Clarke dials her mother’s number and crosses her fingers. The line rings, and rings, and rings.

“Hello, you reached Dr. Abigail Griffin. Please leave a message, and I will call you back.”

“Mom? It’s me, Clarke. Please, Mom, pick up. Pick up. I… I’m at work. There’s been an accident. Or maybe an attack, I don’t know. People said it was a hijacked plane. Anyway, I’m trapped. I can’t go down. Mom, I—I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m so sorry. For everything. For all our fights, for not listening to you more, for putting you through this again. I love you, Mom. I love you so much.”

The line cuts off as she finishes her message, and she lets the phone fall on the floor. Lexa is there to catch her when she leans forward and buries herself in the brunette’s lean frame.

“Shh, I got you. I got you.”

“I don’t want to die. Oh, Lex. I don’t want to die. I don’t want you to die.” Clarke makes little sense, her body shaking under the strength of her sobs. The other woman holds her tight and rubs circles against her back, rocking her back and forth gently.

“I know. I’m here, love. You’re not alone. I’ll always be with you.”

The floor under them trembles as the fire finishes burning through the beams and compromising the entire structure. The building groans and gasps, fighting the last seconds of its lost battle. Blue eyes meet green ones, the panic and sadness overwhelming the two women plain in them.

“Oh, God. Lexa.”

“I love you, Clarke—”

-------

“Clarke. Clarke, wake up, love. Wake up.”

The blonde jerks and gasps, her eyes brimming with tears staring at the bedroom’s ceiling. She can feel her heart hammering in her chest and her wife’s hands pressed on her shoulders, shaking her gently.

“Lex?”

“You’re okay. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.”

Strong arms surround her and pull her closer to the other woman’s chest. Her nose nuzzles the skin hidden under chestnut locks, the smell reminding her of home and calming her heartbeat.

It was more than that, and they both know it. Even though the nightmares are rare after ten years, they have experienced more than their fair share of them. For Clarke, it’s usually the guilt of sleeping through her alarm that fateful morning. The knowledge that all her coworkers died, trapped on the 97th floor, wishing they, too, hadn’t made it to the office that day. For Lexa, it’s Costia — her girlfriend who used to work two floors above Arkadia — dying on the phone with her when the building collapsed under her.

They have done the work, seen therapists, accepted that they can’t change the past. Still, every now and then, something triggers the nightmares, reminding them how their lives were turned upside down in an instant. With the tenth anniversary of the attack coming, they planned on booking an appointment with their former therapist to prepare for the potential onslaught of emotions. But Obama’s announcement the day before that bin Laden is finally dead took them by surprise and reopened old wounds.

“You were there, Lex. You were there, with me, in the tower. We were both trapped, I was injured, and you refused to leave. You can’t do that. You have to live; do you hear me? Promise me that you will save yourself.”

The brunette takes her hands into hers and presses them against her upper chest, the nightgown so thin Clarke can feel the warmth of the skin under her fingers.

“I’m alive, Clarke. We both are. I know it was scary, but we’re okay. It wasn’t real. Come on, say it.”

The blonde takes a few breaths and clears her throat, remembering the exercises the therapist prescribed to help with their panic attacks and nightmares. “It wasn’t real. We’re okay. We’re alive.” It helps a little, and she can feel the tension in her shoulders ease by a newton or two.

“Come on,” Lexa eventually says, pulling her out of the bed. “I know what will cheer you up.”

Clarke follows her in silence, too shaken to fight back. She knows where her wife is taking her anyway. It’s their little routine when one of them can’t fall back to sleep.

Tiptoeing down the dark corridor, they push a door open as quietly as they can and lean against the doorframe. Their son is lying in his bed, the glow stars on his ceiling offering just enough pale light that they can see his strawberry blond hair poking from under his blanket. The five-year-old dreams of rainbows and dragons, unaware of how his presence is enough to mend the cracks in his mothers’ hearts. How they would die for each other but choose every single day to live for him.

“We did this,” Clarke whispers, and she smiles when Lexa molds herself against her back and wraps her hands around her waist, chin pressed over her shoulder.

“Yes, we did this.”

It wasn’t always easy. The two young women who met during a grief counseling session shortly after the 9/11 attacks were in pieces. If their shared tragedy brought them together, their guilt and Costia’s ghost prevented them from admitting their feelings for a long time. Yet, time heals all wounds, even the ones on one’s soul. With gentle nudges and encouragement from their friends and families, the two women learned to be happy again. Accepted that they were allowed to.

A few years later, their family grew from two into three, bringing a new sense of purpose into their lives. They learned not to waste any opportunity or take things for granted and married as soon as the law let them. Some things are worth fighting for, after all.

“I want another baby,” Clarke admits suddenly. Lexa’s arms tense around her before relaxing, and the blonde turns around, her lip caught between her teeth. “I think I’d like to be the one to carry this time. Would that be okay with you?”

Lexa stares at her, her eyes shining despite the relative darkness of the room. The corners of her mouth twitch and meet her ears when she grins with all her teeth. “Okay.”

[falling-pages]

Okay how about first cuddles with Bakugou? Like he is almost feral about being held and having reader snuggle into them. And then....then he realizes the powers of a good cuddle. His body relaxes and accepts the cuddles. You know, just Bakugou leaning how to be a soft boy. 🥰🥰🥰 Hope this helps!! Happy Writing!!

This T_T my heart absolutely melted. This was absolutely self-indulgent on my end and I’m so happy you requested it!!!!

I decided to make it a part 2 of this one shot since so many people asked for a part 2 🥰🥰🥰 Lol also it’s long so I’m sorry

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Friday Night pt. 2:

Third-Year Bakugou Katsuki x Third-Year gender-neutral Reader

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Genre: Fluff, pining, cuddles, first kiss, just Bakugou going feral when he finally gets cuddles

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Bakugou didn’t sleep like you thought he would.

Even with the fever ripping through his body, he laid there so peacefully. On his back, eyes scrunched shut, mouth in a thin line, the first time you had ever seen him not scowling, actually. It was like sneaking back into school after hours and watching the teachers work silently, in their natural habitats.

You didn’t know what you were expecting him to look like unconscious. Snarling snores, maybe. Resting on his stomach, gripping the sheets in his fists hard enough to rip. Probably thrashing, screaming and cursing at his dreams. Imploding smokey holes into the mattress.

But not...this. Not so peaceful, not the way he turned and slightly smiled at whatever his brain came up with. Not the way he would gently breathe in and out of his nose. Not the way his right hand sat limply at his side, his left crossed protectively over his worst wound near his stomach. Not the way his hair stuck out on the pillow gently cushioning his bruised face.

Neither Bakugou nor Aizawa would tell you how he got hurt, raising your suspicions. With graduation looming and the hero license exam nearing, you had figured your teacher had taken some of the top third-year students out for extra training. Bakugou had garnered more control over his quirk, granted, but he still needed the extra training. He liked to push himself too hard, take too many missions. Your outburst earlier in the evening sunk that into his thick skull. 

Some part of watching him felt wrong, knowing he would blast you into outer space if he caught you looking. But this was your job tonight, to sit by his side and watch over him as he healed. 

He suddenly gasped in his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he clutched his deepest wound. The air rushed out of his now-open mouth, accompanying the slightest whimper. You lurched forward and activated your quirk, falling to your knees to look within him. 

It staked your heart to see him in so much pain, but nothing was wrong, just some blood rushing to his wound. Not too heavy to come through the bandage, though, so you blinked and let it be. 

And then you took a calculated risk. Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was wrong, maybe you thought “to hell with it” about his malicious tendencies. You knew it wouldn’t cure him, and you knew he would probably disintegrate you into a pile of ash and smoke, but you wanted to try. That tugging feeling in your stomach wouldn’t leave you alone, so...

You kissed him.

Well, his forehead. It was hot and dripping with sweat, and you knew it was dangerous, you knew his power was stored in his sweat, but you did it anyway. You had to. You had to try something to ease his pain. 

He shifted beneath your touch, and you dove back into your chair and tried to act nonchalant. 

Like that would work. Nothing escaped Bakugou, even when he slept.

His eyes peeled open, eyebrows quirked as he took in his surroundings. A brief whiff of smoke aired from his palms until he realized where he was. In “some extra’s dorm.”

“Hey--” his voice crackled like his bombs as his eyes fully adjusted to the dim lamplight. His peaceful facade remained. 

“Hey,” you whispered back. Even injured and half-asleep, he still intimidated you. 

“What happened?”

You breathed, relief flooding your core. He hadn’t noticed. “The pain woke you up. But you’re alright. Go back to sleep.”

His eyes trailed lazily across the room, until they met yours. Those crimson red irises could strike fear into the hearts of friend and foe, but when they looked at you, they were soft, confused, trusting. Sleepy.

“That’s not all.”

You settled back in your chair, fiddling with the wicker arms. “That’s what happened.”

“You kissed me.”

You suddenly prayed to every god that you would die. Shiiiiiiiiit, he felt that? 

Panic covered your hands, making you lose feeling in your fingers. A buzzer sounded in your head, like an evacuation alarm. You cleared your throat. You wracked your brain for an excuse, but came up empty. Lying to him was a surefire way of getting blasted through the nearest wall. And, if the way he looked at you was any indication, you’d better tell the truth. “Only on the forehead.”

Bakugou studied you. Now his eyes were calculating, cunning. Now you couldn’t tell if he were looking at you as friend or foe. “You know my sweat could blast your face off.”

It would be a mercy compared to what you were about to go through. “You...just looked like you were in pain. I wanted to help.”

He stared at you for a few more painful seconds. His gaze pierced your sternum like a knife. Then, as if Heaven itself opened, he smiled.

He smiled. 

“I wouldn’t mind another,” he murmured, turning his head back to the ceiling. Try as he might, you saw that grin, joining the blush running across his cheeks. As much as your crush feelings were hyped, you couldn’t help but feel more relieved at the fact that you were still in one piece. 

You crept forward, hesitant to do as he suggested. He was a bucking horse, a wildfire that changed direction with the wind. It was all you could do to avoid getting burned. 

As you leaned over him again, your size dwarfed by him, that calculating sheen stayed put. Was he going to burn you as you were defenseless? Was he going to blast you? He wouldn’t. He had better instincts than to hurt the very person taking care of his injuries as he laid helpless in bed.

But if he was being vulnerable with you, then maybe you should be vulnerable with him.

When you were just a few inches away, Bakugou’s eyes still open, he suddenly reached up and yanked your head down, interlocking his lips with yours. You sputtered, jerking to pull off, but his hand kept you there, eyes fluttering shut as soon as you made contact. After a moment, when you felt your soul reenter your body, you shifted to support yourself better, kneeling half-way on the bed, crossing your chest just above his.

He was warm. You could feel his warmth even while you sat feet away. Unlike Deku, whose skin was always cool and clammy, he was warm. Either by his quirk or fever or just himself, he was burning up, fiery to touch, like a cast iron brand digging into your side. That’s how he made his way in this world, torching the earth and salting the fields if he didn’t get what he wanted, setting off explosions to mold and shift reality into what he desired. He was molten lava, desperate, eager, wanting, burning and terrifying to touch, a spark set ablaze to decimate anything in its path.

Pulsating, and beating, and alive.

But when you lowered your fingertips to his shoulder, and you flinched--breaking the kiss to softly gasp--he frowned, focusing on your face, the way your eyes looked at your hand and how your sensitive fingers rubbed together.

“You okay?” he whispered, gravel voice hushed in honor of the moment.

You heard the pain laced beneath his voice and turned to look at him. Your hand fell on the mattress beside his chest. As his eyes bore into your head, you watched him, the way his muscles rippled, the way his very soul seemed enchanted by your kiss. If you activated your quirk, you were sure you could see the way his blood danced beneath his skin, the rush of chemicals to his brain, the excitement flaring in his nostrils.

He was an inferno incarnate, breathing and wild and alive, letting you touch him with all the slow calmness of an ocean breeze.

You slowly blinked, losing yourself in the imprint of his lips on yours. You unconsciously reached up to your mouth, tracing the outline of it with your fingertips.

As you make a sound of satisfaction, he smirked, trailing a hand up your calf to rest placidly on your thigh. “I said, extra, you okay?”

“Umm. Yeah.” Your eyes follow his hand, expecting it to burst like his grenades. “You’re just really hot.”

He scoffed, smacking your thigh--but gently, just feeling your skin. “Damn right I am.”

“No, not like that.” You rolled your eyes. “I mean, you are hot--attractive, I mean--but your skin...ummm, it burned me.”

“Oh,” he grunted. His eyebrows furrowed, losing that playful edge. He took away his hand, bunching around the sheets instead. 

You massaged your sore fingers as he contemplated. You nearly missed his hissed out, “Sorry.”

So it was a night of firsts--the first time he heard you curse, the first time you heard him apologize, your first kiss and his, too, as far as you knew.

“It’s okay.”

Bakugou moved, waving your helping hand away in case he burned you again. Once he sat up, he leveled his eyes to yours and very lightly, gingerly, took your hand and raised it to his pouty lips. You waited for the sting, but as he kissed your fingertips, all you felt was warmth, like molten chocolate, like a woolen scarf, like the sleepy feeling of an open oven door. 

He finished by rotating your hand in all angles and degrees, making sure to cover every inch of your palm, knuckles, and wrist in his love. The residual buzz traveled from your hand into your heart. 

“It’s my emotions,” he murmured against your skin. “My quirk acts up when I’m emotional.”

He kept his eyes nearly shut, only focusing on pressing more adoring kisses to your skin. When you returned your other hand to his chest, he shuddered, staring back at you with wide eyes. You saw what he was about to say--“Don’t touch me, I don’t want to hurt you”--and folded your finger against his lips.

“You won’t hurt me,” you whisper. “You’re powerful, but I’m not afraid of you.”

You moved your hand down and leaned forward, returning his kiss. The hand he once possessed smoothed under his jaw, outlining it with a finger to pull him close. You tasted the hesitancy in his lips, no longer masked under the bravado of his previous kiss, and smiled. You searched for his hand and found it, bringing it to your waist, giving permission to the boy who rarely waited for others’ approval. But he waited for you. He respected you.

I know you won’t hurt me. 

And that single move was when he realized he was so, so feral for your touch.

His long, powerful arms wrapped around your middle, hauling you completely onto the bed and scooting you into his lap, hugging you as close as he possibly could. There was no soft bone in his body--he devoured you, desperate for your love, your lips, you, you, you. A boy who had been scared to touch all of his life--knowing what it did to people, what he could do if he tried, the damage he even did on accident--was now clutching someone who wasn’t scared, someone who cared, whose hands knotted in his hair revealed just how desperately you needed him, as well. 

You filled him with your love, and he you, and you felt a tear escape, the kind that you cry when watching a sunset, or eating ice cream, or listening to your favorite song, when you’re so happy that smiling just isn’t enough.

Bakugou felt the wetness on your cheek and paused, cradling and dipping the back of your head so he could kiss it away. “What’s wrong, Firework?”

You veins ran hot at the pet name so naturally falling from his lips. “Nothing.” You smile, biting your lip. “I’m just happy.”

He nuzzled your forehead. “Good. Now, let’s lay down. You need to sleep.” 

You smoothed the bottom of your pajama shirt as he stretched to turn off the lamp. As you began to wriggle out of his grasp, he suddenly grabbed you tighter and held you as he shifted, lifting the blanket and dragging you both below. You began to protest on account of his injuries, but he squeezed you tighter against his chest. 

“I’m not letting you out of my arms again,” he whispered, with a kiss to the head.

Once you both were situated in the dark, you rested your head on his shoulder as he scratched your back. The long, slow strokes nearly lulled you into sleep, but one question filled your mind.

“Baku--”

“Katsuki.”

You couldn’t see him, but he moved his face nearer yours, catching your hand planted on his chest. “Call me Katsuki.”

“Okay.” The draw of his informal name sent a chill down your spine that you’re sure he felt. “Katsuki, why call me Firework?”

He smiled into your hair, shifting your weight onto him. Drowsiness choked his voice. “Because fireworks are beautiful, brilliant, and I like to look at them.” His knuckles found your cheek, and he brushed them against it. “And you are beautiful, brilliant, and I like to look at you.”

Satisfied, you closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of his warm skin and arms cradling you, desperate, never willing to let you go, and you never wanting him to.

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[mrsalwayswrite]

A Ship’s Arrival (Ivar x reader)

Here is my (second) contribution to @ofmanderley 300 followers celebration challege! Thanks again for doing this challenge! 

My prompt was a gif set you can find here. Check it out! 

Fun Fact: Hnefatafl (‘King’s Table’ in English) is the board game most commonly associated with the Viking Age, I’m guessing this is what Ivar and Aslaug were playing in Season 4 when he was a child.  

Warnings: fluff, Ivar being a prickly boy who is really a softie. 

Words: 2600

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

(Note- this gif is not mine. It is apart of the gif set I chose, so all the credit goes to @ofmanderley​)

  Earnest blue eyes stared out over the water with all the intensity of one seeking answers from the gods themselves. Those who worked the docks bustled around him, making sure to stay out of his way and his reach. The youngest Ragnarsson ignored them, too focused on watching the water between the fjords and leading to Kattegat. His piercing gaze eagerly sought for the ship's promised arrival. He knew it made more sense for him to watch and wait on the overlooking hills; from there he could see farther and be out of the way. But he did not care. He wanted to be here when the ship docked. If he was above Kattegat, it would take too long to crawl down and be at the docks in time. 

 He looked up at the bright sky. Sol drove her chariot upwards; the sunrise having faded hours ago. Now the azure sky matched the glistening water below. Tonight was a full moon. The thought released a torrent of emotions through him, threatening to overwhelm his otherwise shrewd mind. The feeling he chose to focus on, that he hoped would drown out the fear and insecurity within him, was a giddy excitement. 

 Tonight, you were supposed to return. 

 *****

 The festivities raged around him, filling the Great Hall to the brim with useless noise of laughter, conversation and drunken singing. Ivar sat at one of the long tables near the thrones, only one filled with his beautiful mother. Alone, he watched the revelry around him in his usual aloof manner, shooting glares of disdain frequently. Sipping on his horn of ale, he wondered how soon he could leave, or how much trouble he would get in if he stabbed one of the drunken men that kept knocking into his table and bumping his crippled legs. 

 He considered crawling over to sit on the empty throne next to his mother, but seeing her glassy gaze as she stared into her horn, he knew he would be just as alone beside her as he currently was. 

 Used to being ignored, surprise filled him when someone slid across the table from him. Expecting one of his brothers, a sharp barb laid on the tip of his tongue, only for it to dissipate when he realized who it was. 

 You relaxed on the bench across from him, elbows on the table and leaning slightly forward. What startled him the most was the way you were obviously studying him with your head slanted to the side, eyes intent upon his face. Without a word, he matched your scrutiny, unwilling to lose this silent battle to some maiden. He had seen you before around the Great Hall, although you two had never spoken, let alone made eye contact. This was the first time either of you acknowledged the other's presence. 

 Your father was an accomplished tradesman, recently expanding his route to include Kattegat. The first time he came to inquire about trading here, he spoke with the Queen. With her approval, he left with promises to return soon. This time he arrived with goods from foreign lands that caused many to marvel. What most caught Ivar's attention- this time your father brought you along. 

 After several minutes of the silent staring, each moment further making Ivar grit his teeth and his fingers itch for an axe to bash into your head. What upset him the most, you looked so serene staring at him; like his furious gaze, that sent many before you cowering in fear, had no hold over you. He refused to break the silence, to break the stalemate you two were obviously locked in. He could read the stubbornness in the curve of your lips, the slow blinking of your eyes that remained solely focused on him. Clearly you forgot he was Ivar the Boneless, being obstinate was a specialty of his. 

 Finally, you broke the silence. "I heard you are one of the best players of Hnefatafl."

 "It is a game of skill, cunning, and strategy. Things I excel in, unlike most." He scoffed, trying to determine what you hoped to get out of your statement. There were none that could beat him in the game, only Floki ever came close. He wondered not for the first time if his father was around, if he would actually provide adequate competition for his youngest son. 

 "I bet I can beat you."

 His jaw threatened to drop at your blasé statement, said so easily, so casually, like it was a fact. His blood boiled. How dare you think yourself better than him? Leaning forward, he snarled at you. "No."

 A smirk caused your lips to turn upward, infuriating him even more. 

 His fury spilled forth with vitriol coating each word as he sneered at you. "You are just some tradesman's daughter. Just like any other useless, pathetic girl. I am the son of Ragnar Lothbrok. You have no chance of ever beating me."

 You leaned forward, your posture reflecting his. Though your demeanor was serene, like a still lake; while his body trembled like a wildfire, threatening to burn everything within reach. 

 "Prove it."

 His mind froze for a brief moment, unable to believe what you just said. "Are you…. challenging me?"

 "It's only a challenge if there is any hope of you actually beating me."

 His rage resurfaced, clearing his mind of the surprise. A dangerous excitement coursed through his blood. This would give him an opportunity to teach you your place, to remind you of those who will always be above you; and he planned to destroy you in both the game and in tormenting afterwards. Oh, this could be the most fun he had in a while. "Tomorrow."

 Your smirk widened. "Tomorrow." You confirmed with a single nod. Without another word, you rose gracefully to your feet and walked out of the Great Hall.  

 *****

 The dagger spun easily in his hand, twisting, turning, an extension of his hand. The sun had risen to its zenith, the light making the water sparkle and shine. Still, Ivar refused to move from his spot on the dock. 

 His mind drifted to the new axe he was working on at the blacksmith's. It was supposed to be done by now but his impatience had gotten the better of him one day. After that, he was forced to start over completely. He wondered if you would want to come watch him work. Would that interest you? 

 Suddenly, his attention was diverted to a ship heading towards the docks. He straightened up, eagerly watching its arrival. As it drew closer, his excitement dissipated like smoke, replaced by annoyance. The ship was one he recognized as a larger fishing ship. Not a tradesman's ship. Not your ship. 

 Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. He should return to the Great Hall, either to spar with his brothers in the training yard or help his mother. Do anything but sit here pointlessly. Waiting around for some girl sounded like something he would cruelly tease his brothers for doing. Yet here he sat, unmoving. His gaze focused once more on the horizon, as if his will alone could summon you to appear faster. 

 *****

 Over the next fortnight, countless games of Hnefatafl were played between Ivar and you. To his immense pleasure and frustration, you were good. Not just good enough to barely entertain him but good enough that Ivar had to actually work for each win. The only other person who came close was Floki. But here you were winning, just as many times as he won. He internally debated if he loved or hated that.

 Soon your competition expanded to other activities, making even mundane activities into fierce battles. He was slightly better than you when it came to archery, which brought him immense pleasure. You were better at fishing, which all the brothers found humorous. Even at meals, you two would compete who could chug your ale the fastest. Something Queen Aslaug disliked immensely but kept silent about for her joy of her youngest son finding a friend overshadowed her displeasure at some of your antics. 

 During this time, the two of you were hardly apart. Though on numerous occasions, Ivar still considered splitting your head with his axe. He found that each day the violent feeling lessened and his excitement to see you increased. His brothers tried to tease him but his mother quickly silenced them with a sharp look. It did not matter what those fools thought, none of them ever held his interest, his attention, his respect like you did. 

 When the fortnight drew to an end and your father began preparations to leave, Ivar found himself trying to create excuses to delay the impending departure, no matter how ridiculous they sounded. 

 That last night found you and him sitting alone on the dock, looking up at the starry sky above. All the dock workers were either at the meal in the Great Hall or in their own homes. 

 "Father says we'll be back on the next full moon. Trade here has been good." You said, tracing a knot in the wood below you. 

 "Why do I care?" He scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "You are an annoying person to have around. I plan on feasting and celebrating once your ship leaves tomorrow."

 "Good, you waste your time, so when I return, I will beat you in archery since I plan on practicing every day."

 "You could practice until Ragnarök and still never beat me."

 You shrugged, his mockery amusing you more than anything. You had learned over the past two weeks that taunts and ridicule flowed from his mouth easier than any kind word. "We shall see."

 A comfortable silence settled around you two once again. The gentle crashing of waves and the call of seagulls filled the air, lulling you both into contentment. You shifted to lay down on the dock, raising a hand to trace the constellations in the sky above you. After a couple of minutes, Ivar laid down next to you, your shoulders touching, as he watched your hand. 

 "Next full moon?" He confirmed quietly, his raspy voice just above a whisper. 

 "Try not to miss me too much." You quipped. 

 He chuckled, turning his head to look at you beside him. "I won't."

 "Good. I won't miss you either." 

 Smiling, you mirrored his action. Time froze as you two stared at one another, realizing how close you actually were. As if on its own accord, Ivar's gaze drifted down to your lips, so close to his own. Suddenly, your tongue darted out to wet them causing Ivar to jerk his eyes back up to meet yours. Insecurity and doubt prevented him from moving, from kissing your lips like he had dreamt about so many times. At first, he had rejected the dream, convincing himself it was pure foolishness, that he could never be interested in someone like you. Yet over the passing days, the dream never abated. When alone with his thoughts, sometimes he would retrieve the dream from his mind and turn it over like a treasured item to admire before putting it back on its shelf. 

 With widening eyes, he laid there stunned as your gaze dropped to his lips and that hand that had been tracing the stars now gently caressed his bottom lip. His mouth opened in a gasp, beyond astounded by your action, but more surprised by the feelings it invoked in him. 

 A shout from the end of the dock shattered the intimate moment. You rapidly sat up, your attention fully on the person who yelled your name. Moving slowly, Ivar pushed himself up and looked down to the end of the dock to see your father standing there. You waved in acknowledgement, a nervous giggle slipping from your mouth.  

 "I have to go."

 Even as disappointment tainted his world, he refused to let it show, making sure to keep his tone harsh and mocking. "Finally, I was starting to doubt I could get rid of you."

 You laughed, starting to rise to your feet but froze for a moment. In the next moment, you scooted closer, grabbed his face and kissed him. It was only a gentle press of your mouths, full of innocence and familiarity, yet it felt like a promise. Before he could respond, you pulled back and practically sprinted down the dock. He watched you disappear amongst the buildings of Kattegat at your father's side. Once gone from view, he turned back to look at the stars. Though his focus remained solely on the tingling sensation on his lips and the memory of your first shared kiss. In the moment, Ivar wondered if the gods were finally smiling down on him. 

 *****

 Footfalls approached him from behind. The steady steps slapping against the wooden boards of the dock let Ivar know who it was without him even having to look. The ruffling of his hair confirmed the person's identity. Only one person was allowed to do that to him. 

 "Still waiting I see." Ubbe asked, looking out over the sparkling water. "Mother is getting worried. You've been here most of the day."

 "Let her worry. As you can see, I am fine."

 "Mmmm…. you sure it is just friendship between you and y/n? I have never seen you wait for anyone else so relentlessly to return from a trip."

 "Say another word and I'll gut you." Ivar narrowed his eyes at his brother, a growl clawing at his throat to erupt at the teasing. 

 Ubbe just chuckled at the threat. He reached over to ruffle Ivar's hair once again but Ivar smacked his hand away with annoyance. 

 "I'll come back for you for the evening meal." Ubbe started to turn when something caught his eye. "Ivar…. a ship."

 Ivar tried to straighten up further in a futile attempt to see farther. It was a few more minutes before he was able to see what caught his brother's eye. There slipping through the water was a ship, one he recognized. A smile lit up his face without him even realizing, diminishing his usual severe expression into a boyish glee. Though he made no comment, Ubbe certainly took notice.

 The ship slowly approached, the men at the oars bringing the ship closer to Kattegat's docks. Ivar found himself tapping his hand on the boards beneath him as if that could somehow speed up the ship's arrival. 

 As the ship prepared to dock, your face popped up over the side, eyes scanning the dock furiously. When your gaze landed on him, a smile split your face that rivaled the warmth of the sun. Soon as the ship was tied off, you scrambled awkwardly over the side and ran straight at him. Ivar barely had time to brace himself before you dropped to your knees beside him and cupped his face, bringing your lips to his. This time, he was ready. He grabbed your head, keeping your mouth on his. What was meant as a sweet kiss quickly turned greedy with the way you both demanded attention using teeth and tongues. 

 When the two of you separated, lungs screaming for air, you stared at each other, your lips swollen and eyes alight.

 "Did you miss me?" You asked breathlessly. 

 "Not at all." He quipped, though you both knew it was a lie. Especially when he pulled you back in for another searing kiss that left no doubts of his true feelings towards you. 

[entropicquilibriumofchaos]

Master of Puppets

After a year away at college, Margaret Byrnes is called home to Hawkins, Indiana when her father turns up missing after an earthquake swallows half of the town. Something is different about Hawkins, though, and she stumbles right into it, quite literally. After along fall and a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger named Kas, Margaret will have to reconsider every thing she believes as her world mixes with a strange world on the other side of her hometown.

Eddie Munson/Original Female Character

READ IT ON AO3

Chapter 1 - Welcome Home (Sanitarium)

It had been a week since the earthquakes that rocked Hawkins, Indiana. A week since the four great, fiery maws that had opened up and swallowed half of the town. A week since she had gotten the call that flipped her life on its head.

It was like coming home to a home to a warzone, she thought as she passed car after car leaving Hawkins. Or like driving towards a wildfire that everyone was evacuating from. It seemed like the whole town had packed up their lives and started to flee for the safety of anywhere that wasn’t Hawkins. But, here she was, driving headfirst into the flames.

Not literally, of course. Most of the fires had been put out by now. Still, the smoldering ruins of her hometown shocked her to the core as she pulled into the driveway to the house that she had called home up until last year. She twisted the key in the ignition and the engine died out as she grabbed the bulky backpack that sat in the passenger seat and hauled it over her shoulder. 

There was a strange sense of deja vu that washed over her as she opened the door to the small trailer that had once housed her and her parents. It opened with an audible creak and you could tell that it perhaps wasn’t as structurally sound as it once was. Just one more thing to keep her busy as she waited on news that part of her hoped wouldn’t come. 

It had been a week since the earthquakes that rocked her hometown. A week since her father had gone missing in the aftermath. 

Her mother called her as soon as she had gotten the news. Her parents had divorced before she started high school, but lived together until she had left for college. Afterwards, however, her mother moved to the East coast and her father stayed in Hawkins. 

She didn’t waste any time getting back to Hawkins. A quick note to her professors and a teary-eyed goodbye to her few friends she had met in college and she was on the road. The recently new-looking 1984 Cutlass her father had saved up for and bought her was now covered in dust and bugs from the near-cross-country trip. 

A quick look-around the trailer to see if things were still in place sufficed before she dumped her bag onto her old bed and made her way back to the car. A few more trips with two coolers and an armful of grocery bags unpacked the car fully.

But she couldn’t settle in just yet. She jumped back into the car and it roared to life as she twisted the key once more and she sped down the dirt road to Hawkin’s High for the first time since she had graduated. 

The ride felt longer than it should’ve. She spent most of the time gawking at the crumbling buildings and following the smoke that was still rising up in spires around the town. However, the deserted appearance of Hawkins disappeared as she approached the school.

As she parked her car and slammed the door shut, she spotted a familiar face ushering some younger kids through the school doors. 

“Robin!” She yelled, suddenly breaking into a sprint towards the young woman.

Robin froze in place, her jaw dropping as she dropped the clothes that she had been handing out. She wrapped her arms around the other girl as she barreled into her with astonishing strength. The two almost collapsed if not for the sturdy-ish man behind Robin catching them both. He let out a surprised yelp as they fell onto them before pushing them back onto their feet. 

“Christ, Robin! Stand on your own two feet, will ya?” He groaned, but Robin wasn’t paying attention in the slightest.

“Mags! Holy shit is that really you?” She exclaimed towards the girl who had buried her face into her chest. 

Margaret, Mags for short, lifted her head and her tear-filled eyes met her best friends for the first time since she had left. “Yeah, it’s me,” she barely choked out. 

“Uh, Robin? Are you gonna introduce me to your friend here?” The man behind her interjected, but Robin waved him off. 

“When did you get home?” she asked the shorter girl, putting her hands on her shoulders and steadying her at an arm's length. 

“Just now. I stopped at the trailer to drop my stuff off, but then I came straight here.” Mags answered, slightly out of breath. 

“Come on, let’s go inside and get you something to drink okay?” Robin said, leading Mags into the school before grabbing the man by his bicep. “Get some water for us, will you Harrington?”

He nodded, still a bit confused by the appearance of this random girl out of nowhere. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Robin led Margaret into the gym that had been transformed into a sort-of help center for Hawkins after the earthquake. The first thing that she noticed was a bulletin board that read in red lettering “ROANE COUNTY: REPORT MISSING PERSONS HERE”. She released herself from Robin’s grasp to float over to it, drawn by curiosity and fear. A pit formed in her stomach as her eyes found the flier that she had dreaded seeing.

 A missing persons poster, with a picture of her father pasted onto it and his name in bold letters. 

“I’m so sorry, Mags.” Robin whispered, grasping her hand. 

“He’ll turn up somewhere,” Margaret said in a steely voice, “I know he will.”

Robin sighed and put her arm around her friend and rested her head against hers. Before she could say anything a cough made her straighten up and turn around. 

“I- uh, grabbed some water for you guys.” the guy from before said, holding two glasses of ice water in his hands. 

The three sat down on a nearby, unoccupied cot. Mags took the water gratefully; she had been parched from the drive. 

“Steve, this is my friend Margaret,” Robin introduced, “She was in the band with me.” 

Steve nodded, “Hey, I’m Steve.”

Margaret chuckled solemnly. “Yeah, I would recognize the hair anywhere,” she responded dryly. Steve’s mouth dropped open slightly and a confused look crossed his face. “We graduated together. I didn’t really expect you to remember me anyway. It’s no big deal.” 

His face softened with understanding and Robin nudged her lightly. “Be nice, Mags. We’ve all been through it.” 

Mags’ shoulders slumped forward slightly and she sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve reassured, “I was a total dick in high school. But, I think I’ve shaped up a bit… Robin can vouch for me.” 

Robin nodded vigorously and Mags eyed her friend with a curious gaze. Robin snorted and shook her head. 

“You know I like girls, Margaret,” Robin retorted quietly, her face contorting in fake hurt.

A smile touched Mags’ lips and her dry lips cracked slightly. “I didn’t know if maybe something had changed!” she said, holding her hands up. A moment passed before she put her hands back onto her knees and stared at her shoes. Suddenly, her white laces seemed very interesting. “Like everything else.” 

Robin rested her hand on Margaret’s back and rubbed gently. Words wouldn’t help, she knew. 

They caught up briefly before Robin was called back to help out with a new donation of clothes that had just come in. She gave her friend a sympathetic look, but Mags just grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m gonna head back to the trailer anyway; I’m dead tired,” she assured, yawning for effect. “Could you stop by tomorrow to help me clean up a bit? I think a couple things need to be fixed as well.”

Robin nodded, “Of course. I’ll bring my tools!”

This time, the smile on Margaret’s face cracked wider. “I’ll see you tomorrow, loser.” 

The taller girl’s face dropped slightly as she held her grip on Mags’ hand, “Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself? It’s dangerous out there these days.”

Mags just shook her head, the ghost of a smile still haunting her lips. “I told you I’ll be fine. Plus, my dad left his rifle on the mantle and you know I know how to use it.”

Robin huffed, “Yeah, I know. Just.. be careful okay? Things have changed around here.”

[nriacc]

Nothing Revealed in a Common Crisis ~ Teaser

Here’s a teaser of Part 1 of NRIACC ~ Only Ones Who Know. 

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: You all finally get the teaser ahhhhh!!! We are so excited to finally start sharing content with you! We would love to hear what you think of it so far once you’ve read the teaser and we’d love to hear your theories on what you think is going to happen. Really hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading x

Part 1 will be out in full, May 21st 2021

An @imagine-that-100​ and @ghostlightqueen​ collaboration.

| N’s Masterlist | Dot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist (Coming Soon) |

~*~*~*~ July 2003 ~*~*~*~

“Excuse me, can you pull over please?” You ask loudly after practically leaning over Alex who sat directly behind the driver of the black taxi.

The driver nods his head and begins to reduce his speed after you asked him that through the perspex that separated him from the rest of you.

“Thank you,” You tell the driver, before getting out of Alex’s personal space and sitting back down next to the disgusting couple that were getting off beside you.

Thank god you weren’t too far away from home now.

Alex asks you with wide eyes, “Why’d you do that? What’s happening?”

You look at the brunette who looked like he felt more uncomfortable about being seated backwards than Matt getting off with the random girl beside you.

Alex was meant to be staying at Matt’s house tonight after their gig and the night out you’d had afterwards. But in the pub Matt had gotten lucky and the girl wanted to go home with him.

You living two roads away from Matt Helders meant that you always shared taxis home with him but tonight was just insufferable. And you weren't going to let Alex suffer through it once you parted ways, either.

“You’re staying at mine. I’m not leaving you with that,” You inform Alex, looking over to Matt sticking his tongue down the random girl's throat.

The more you looked at Matthew and the blonde the more you wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle. Hands were beginning to roam now, too, and you didn’t want to be in their vicinity any longer.

It would be very unfair of you to leave Alex in their presence. Especially when you had your whole house to yourself and you were only round the corner from where he was originally meant to be staying.

“What about your Mum?” Alex asks, concern on his face as the taxi slows.

“She’s away for the weekend so it’s fine. House is empty,” You assure him as you open the door once the red light has gone off.

Both you and Alex get out of the taxi but before you close the door you pull a £10 note out of your pocket for your share of the taxi fare.

“Matt, you’re disgusting but here’s a tenner,” You say throwing the money at him.

Matt nods at you when he takes a quick break from the blonde. You shake your head at him trying not to smile at the cocky bastard.

You hear Alex tell the driver, “Then to the original address please mate” when you close the black door.

You’re more than thankful to see the taxi drive away. You didn’t want to endure anymore of that disgusting PDA.

Both you and Alex breathe a sigh of relief when you’re just in each other’s presence again. You’re glad to see the taxi’s lights disappear from sight down the long road.

“They’re vile,” Alex sighs before lighting up a cigarette.

“I was ready to jump out the taxi but the red light were on,” You tell him truthfully with a little chuckle.

You both walk in silence for a few minutes, just smoking and both reminiscing about the night you’d just had.

Alex and the lads had a gig in a venue in town where your friendship group had all gone to support him. You were always really close with them all, your little group always meeting up after high school and now most days after college.

But now it was summer and the group could meet up more often which was great. And whilst you were still in Sheffield, you would be making the most of every group event.

So when Matt suggested going out on the pull to a club after the gig, you were all up for it. However, the night didn’t go to plan.

You were in the queue for the club for about half an hour and then when half of you got in, the bouncers stopped Alex and asked for his ID.

This obviously put an end to that idea because most of you were all 17 except for Nick and Jamie. So it was lucky that those of you who got in actually did.

But once one of you had been stopped you all didn’t have a chance then. Alex tried to back chat the bouncers which didn’t really go down well, so you ended up shouting everyone back outside.

You didn’t abandon your mates. If one of you couldn’t get in, you all wouldn’t be going in.

Alex was pissed off about it for a while until you all found a bar that was known for not IDing people to go in that wasn’t too far away. So his mood thankfully picked up when you all got there.

However it seemed like he was a bit down as you walked down the long roads towards your house.

So as you stubbed your cigarette bud out, you questioned him, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex shook his head, stuffing his hands in his zip up hoodies pockets after throwing what little was left of his fag to the ground.

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you only called him out again on it when he kicked a stone along the pavement in a huff.

“Alex, I’m being serious, what’s up?” You ask again, noting that his shoulders were hunched to.

He tried to brush you off again, this time saying, “Nothing, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything you want, right?” You feel the need to remind him.

You’d known him since you were 3. If you desperately needed someone to turn to and the girls weren’t around Alex would more than likely be your go to.

“Not this,” Alex shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“It can’t be that bad,” You tell him.

Alex just shakes his head again, really not wanting to get into it with you because he didn’t think you’d understand. So this time he changes his answer to, “It’s not bad, it’s just embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than when I wet myself in primary school and you never let me forget about it?” You shake your head.

Alex laughs a little at that, finally looking toward you when he says, “Because it was funny.”

“I was five years old Alex, give me a fucking break,” You chuckle, attempting to defend yourself.

Both of you laugh at the memory of him bringing it up countless times over the years. He was such a teasing friend but you’d known him since you were toddlers so you would let him off.

You had enough embarrassing stories of him that you could bring up if you needed too.

“Come on,” You try again, “What’s up?”

This time you seem to get somewhere because Alex tells you, “I really just feel like shit.”

“Why?” You ask, sticking your bottom lip out a little. “I thought you had a good night?”

“I mean yeah sure, I had a good night with you, but that’s not what I mean,” Alex tells you, and when you don’t reply he looked round at you noticing you were waiting for him to continue.

He sighs when he just gives in and tells you, “I just mean I was hoping to get off with that girl in that green dress but it didn’t happen.”

Ah, you understood now.

“Didn’t get a pull, again,” Alex scorns himself before once again kicking the stone on the ground a lot harder this time.  

You watched as it clattered it’s way down the darkened pavements and you nod understanding his words.

“Oh, yeah, I know what you mean,” You tell him honestly. “I was gutted about that too, that guy in that leather jacket was fit.”

Fit was the highest compliment you northerners would give people. You weren’t meaning it in an athletic sense but if you deemed someone as fit that meant that you found them very attractive.

Alex nods processing your words. He vaguely remembered you chatting to a guy in a leather jacket in the bar. But he’d had a few drinks since then so his memory was a tad hazy.

After a few seconds of silence between you, Alex just sighs, telling you his full truth, “I just feel like I’m behind...”

“You know what I mean... Like everyone else either goes home with someone or pulls them and does stuff in the club,” Alex lists off thinking back to previous nights out.

You nod, “Yeah and I hate it.”

“I hate it, too,” Alex agrees.

A thought whirls around your mind for a few moments, before you actually grow the balls to say it out loud, “I hate that I’m still a virgin.”

“Same.” Alex says in what seems like relief that you’d said it too.

Your friendship group was a close one. You all knew who’d been sleeping with who and who's single and who’s done things and who hadn’t.

It wasn’t a surprise to either of you what you were hearing the other say out loud.

If anything though it got a weight off both your chests.

“You know like I just don’t want the first time something happens to be someone fingering me in a club or something,” You laugh a little as you turn the corner onto another long road.

“Yeah, I get that,” Alex nods chuckling too.

Some of the stories that your friends told in the place you all went out was truly mental. But gossip was gossip and it spread like wildfire.

Alex continues showing his understanding with, “Like, you’re not necessarily after being in a relationship or whatever but you at least don’t want it to be a randomer.”

“Literally,” You nod, “I’m glad you get it.”

“Well you know... The same things go through my mind,” Alex tells you.

He’s just glad he’s not the only one feeling a bit left behind.

“What, getting fingered in a club?” You ask him playfully with a little laugh.

“Fuck off,” Alex laughs and nudges you to the side.  

You both laugh for a second and once you’re next to him again he continues, “I just mean like I wanna just get things out of the way... Like I don’t want it to mean nothing, but I also don’t want to be completely shit at everything if I’m doing it with someone who I’m going to be in a relationship with.”

“Oh my god that’s literally it, isn’t it?” You nod, “Like I just feel like after the first times’ done and dusted, I could be a little slag then if I wanted to be... Because then I wouldn’t be scared of some wanker taking my virginity just to then fuck off.”

“Literally,” Alex smiles at you, understanding completely.  

“Have you done anything?” You ask him after a few moments of silence. The only round to be heard was your footsteps.  

“No,” Alex shakes his head before asking, “Have you?”

“No,” You offer him a sad smile.

Alex returns yours with his own and you both just walk down the road in a comfortable silence for a minute. You’re about 5 minutes away from your house now.

“I feel like you could write a sad song about us,” You say not wanting to get lost in your thoughts again.

“I wouldn’t wanna broadcast our lives like that,” Alex chuckles a tad, shaking his mop of brown hair.

You grin at him, “Very considerate of you.”

“Well you know, I’m a nice guy,” Alex smiles, his chocolate eyes looking at you.

You smile, “I know you are.”

“Gentleman really,” Alex adds in jest which makes you laugh.

“Pushing the boat out a bit there Al,” You chuckle before you both share a laugh.

A silence falls between you then as you both continue to walk down the road. Thoughts start forming in your mind then, you never really were a fan of silence because it gave you a chance to overthink and create some crazy ideas.

You then walk silently faster before turning towards him and stopping in front of him.

Alex stops walking too and looks at you curiously.

“What’s up?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask after building up a little confidence.

Alex’s frowns a little, “What?”

Where was this coming from?

“Can I kiss you... Like properly?” You ask, confidence shooting way down though when you see your friend is not so keen on the idea.

“Erm...” Alex trails off looking at you like you’ve gone mad.

Then you feel a bit stupid.

You shake your head, starting to turn back to start walking towards your house again. As you do, you begin to backtrack, “Just ignore me, I don’t know what I’m thin-“

Alex’s hand then grabs your wrist and whips you back around to face him. The brunette then takes a step towards you, cups the back of your neck, and attaches his lips to yours.

You’re a bit taken aback by his actions, despite you asking for it. But you quickly relax into the gesture.

Your hand that landed on his chest after him pulling you back around clutched at his hoodie as you got your bearings with each other. You bring your hand up to lace into his hair and as you do that Alex deepens the kiss.

He was almost hesitant at first when his tongue connected with yours. But after a second you both got more confident with it.

The night was a humid one so it meant that when the kiss started heating the both of you up, it got you both really hot and bothered. He was a really good kisser, something that you’d never really given much thought to before.

But as he was kissing you, you felt a giddy nervousness in your stomach. Something that made you crave him more.

And Alex seemed just as keen on you too, he was pulling you close to him. With one hand around your waist and the other still cupping your neck, keeping you in place.

His lips were soft against your own yet they moved at an increasing pace which you happily tried to keep up with. It was like you were both catching up for a night of failed attempts at a pull.

But you were finally getting it now. Your tongues were moving against each other’s in a way that screamed for the other to continue and never break apart.

When Alex’s fingers dig into your hips you pull the tiniest bit tighter on his hair as you hum into the kiss. You were really enjoying it, completely invested in it and his hold on you felt possessive in the best way.

It was like you were both kissing each other that frantically to make up for the lost time you’d had at the pub.

The kiss only stops because you’re startled away from each other by a car razzing it’s way down the street. The exhaust had obviously been tampered with to make it sound much louder than it was.

You pulled away a little shocked that you’d both just pulled each other like that in front of some random house around the corner from yours. You could hear the car that had just made you both jump over the sound of your own rapid heartbeat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: AHHHH WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!?!?! What do you think is going to happen???? Apologies for no Matty yet but he comes into it a little later. Don’t worry though, the whole story is equally balanced out. Really hope you all enjoyed it, can’t wait for you to read the full part on May 21st. 

Let us know if you want to be added to the taglist x

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

Stop crying your heart out (Number 5 x reader)

ASK: I saw the post you reblogged about Five crying and I was wondering if you could do one like that, where Five is so frustrated, hits the point where he breaks and reader tries to comfort him (if reader could be taller than him I would love that) maybe at first he doesn’t want to get comfort bc makes him “weak”, but eventually gives in? I just love angsts. 

A/N: Not the most angsty but it is a lil, hope this was what you were hoping for!

Words:1176

Anger is fire. Smouldering embers ready to set fire to anything it comes in contact with, spreading and engulfing with no remorse to those in its path. It can either grow and blossom or wilt and die like a plant, it just needs the right conditions to keep it alive. Someone taken over with anger is unstoppable, unpredictable and uncontrollable, not caring who they hurt in their path, just like fire. Eventually, all fires must come to a stop, wether its life is ended by opposing forces or it burns itself out but either way, it doesn’t go out without a fight.

Anger is destruction, annihilating everything within reach and leaving a wreckage behind it. Once it had taken over, nothing would stop the carnage it caused to the person who was infected and their surroundings, total demolition occured. But he was a gazelle in an ever expanding jungle, swift, sagacious, secretive. Only he knew where the jungle was but he couldn’t hide his scent forever, soon the hyenas would catch up and finally have the last laugh.

Buzzing filled the quiet room, reaching out desperately trying to find the source of the noise in the ungodly hour of the night. Finally, your hand lands on your buzzing phone, squinting to read the screen before answering, not even being able to get a word as words rushed into your half asleep mind. Objects came into focus as your eyes adjusted to the darkness that resided in your room, not even being able to understand the fast paced words that were hurtling towards you. “Klaus, please slow down.”

“Something’s up with Five.”

Rain pounded onto the streets as you ran towards the Academy, thunder roaring in the sky. Coldness seeped into your core as your clothes became drenched from the rain, puddles splashing as you collided with them at full force, droplets splashing up as if an atom bomb had gone off. Feeling like a fish in an ever expanding pond, finally being caught by predator, your heart raced thinking about the worst case scenario that could be happening in the Academy.

But you weren’t paying attention, being careless with your steps in your haze of worry. Head first, you collided with the rough ground, air forcing its way out of your lungs and hands burning as they tried to brace your fall. There was no time to think about the ever growing burning radiating up your palms and into your palms and up your legs, almost meeting in the middle but you didn’t care, you had to make sure he was okay.

The dark doors loomed down on you as you reached out to knock before slowly pushing it open. Moonlight illuminated the hallway as you stepped in only to throw you back into the darkness of the unknown, back into the ever expanding pond in which you were oh so small. Shaking from the cold, you slowly made your way up the stairs, knowing exactly which turns and twists to take to get to Fives room. A small crowd was gathered anxiously by his door, shocked eyes took in your shaken and soaked figure adorned with grazed knees and hands.

A small smile came over your face when you saw the Hargreeves siblings, only to drop when you heard the silence echoe in the corridor with nervous looks between you and Fives door. Taking a deep breath, you twist the doorknob, not knowing what to expect. Five had these moments where every now and again he would forget where he was, forget that there wasn’t an impending apocalypse; or at least that we knew about, but when he got like this he was a bomb, just ticking away waiting to explode.

When he explodes it’s as if a petrol bomb was thrown, his flames of anger and sorrow charing everything he touches, unstoppably spreading until he burnt himself out. All anyone could do is wait it out, wait for the wildfire to stop spreading to then care for the embers after to make sure they went out. It was a hard task for everyone involved but always took an even harder emotional toll on Five, just as he gets better it happens again and there was no clear trigger that lights him up, there was never any warning.

As you closed the door quietly behind you, your eyes rested on the complete carnage that lay ahead, writing upon writing was scribbled all over the walls that had been freshly painted, books lay sprawled across the floor, open at random pages with some even torn out or wrote on. Snapped pencils and scrunched up paper piled over the trash can and littered onto the floor, almost providing a trail that led somewhere, someone. 

Five was bunched up in the corner, his knees tightly pressed against his chest with his face covered by his hands almost making himself appear as small as possible. Slowly, you approach the quivering boy, unsure if his embers will turn into a flame as you touch him or will die out into a smoke; he was unpredictable.

“Five?” Kneeling down next to him you cautiously place your hand on his shoulder, unsure of his next actions.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Suddenly he sprung up, muttering to himself, going back to pacing around his room. Words such as ‘apocalypse’ and ‘end of the world’ flowed from his mouth. All you could do is stay on the floor and repeat his name but it only fell on deaf ears, it was like he couldn’t even see you were in the room. 

On the fifth repeat of his name his head snapped towards you sat on the floor as if he had only just realised where he was at all, his eyes scanned the torn apart room as you stood up and got closer to him. His frantic eyes met yours but never really saw you, his eyes were clouded with fear. “The world is going to end in ten days.”

“Five we’re not in 2019 anymore.” Carefully you grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at you to try and break the trace like frantic state he was in. “You’re safe now.”

All of a sudden, a heartbreaking sob wretched its way out of him, almost involuntarily. His fire had been put out as the aftermath rolled over, tears streamed down his face as he struggled to breathe through his sorrow. Pushing you away, he turned, not wanting you to see him in the state he was, he couldn’t be seen as weak.

Anxiously, you stepped in front of him and held him close, wrapping your arms around him so he couldn’t escape. He weakly tried to pry from your grip, his sobs only growing stronger but you stay put. Eventually, he gave up trying to push you away, allowing you to hold him before reciprocating the hug. You gently rest your head on top of his, bringing your hand to stroke his hair as he continued to cry.

“You’re safe now, Five.”

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 4)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 4: darling can’t you hear me?

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. this chapter is musically driven so i would recommend listening to ‘hit me baby one more time’ by britney spears, ‘sos’ by abba and ‘end game’ by taylor swift, while reading the chapter. also there is slight smut in here. i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated.

warnings: smoking, drinking, slight smut, cursing

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

main masterlist   series masterlist   chapter 3   chapter 5

Tom and Y/N had been individually invited to their common friend Lily’s house warming party. They, however, decided to go together as friends.

Most of the people Y/N knew in London were all in the same circle and were all present at Lily’s. Lily was a smart woman and a social butterfly, but she was not the smartest when it came to befriending real and trustworthy people.

The house was packed with people. Everyone was taking a swing at the karaoke machine attached to the TV in the living room.

Y/N and Tom made their way to the kitchen where all the drinks were.

“Remember, you’re driving us home.” Y/N said, snatching the beer from Tom’s hand.

“Why can’t you drive?” Y/N chugged the whole beer at once.

“Oops”, she said, wiping her mouth from the back of her palm.

They both diverted to their separate ways, trying not to confirm the obvious. They were the talk of the town, or the party in this case. They were knee deep in rumours. Everyone had been gossiping about something they had heard from a friend of a friend.

Rumours spread like wildfire and in their case, most of the rumours were true. But the biggest red herring of the town was that Haz and Y/N were separated and were on the verge of filing divorce, and Y/N was getting the heat of it.

Those who were sober enough to sustain a conversation, came up to her and asked her the exact same question.

“So what is up with Haz? How is he? Haven’t seen him around in such a long time”, asked a girl, whose name Y/N couldn’t remember.

She was clearly out for ‘the scoop’ everyone else was.

“Oh he’s nice, he’s actually coming to London next week”, this was the thirteenth time Y/N had repeated that sentence tonight.

“So will he be accompanying you to the premier?”

What is she, a tabloid journalist?

“I don’t know actually, we haven’t talked about that”

---

Tom hated parties, he preferred intimate gatherings, where people would have meaningful conversations instead of the shallow small talk. He was an ‘intellectual’ in that sense, as Y/N had pointed out. He was insufferable since he couldn’t drink as he had to drive Y/N home, and she was nowhere to be found. He found himself entering the bathroom in Lily’s room to escape. Little did he know, Y/N felt the same way. He entered the bathroom to a modern masterpiece.

Y/N was sitting inside the bathtub with her legs hanging out of it. Her white wine glass was to her left, next to a Marlboro box with a lighter poking out it. The shower curtains were pushed to the right side of the tub.

She had a cigarette in her left hand and her phone in her right. He could only assume that she was playing candy crush like the middle aged woman she was. He couldn’t help but take a picture.

Y/N didn’t notice him until she heard the sound of the phone camera.

“I see you lasted an hour out there”, she said, ashing her cigarette on the box.

“Which is more than you”, he sat on the edge of the tub.

“Ugh, I couldn’t take their questions about Haz anymore, like seriously why do they all need to ask me the exact same question individually, I should literally just announce my life’s status with a fucking lou-“, Y/N was interrupted by Tom’s sloppy kiss.

She tastes like wine

He found himself on Y/N's lap and started kissing down her neck. She smelled like her Gucci Bloom perfume mixed with alcohol and smoke. Tom made it to her breasts and started sucking them, in an attempt to leave his mark on her.

There was a knock on the door. “Go away”, Y/N screamed, between small, light moans. “Um, okay”, the person said from behind the door. Y/N moved her hand to the rim of Tom’s shirt and started to pull it up, accidently toppling the wine glass next to her, spilling wine in the bathtub.

Tom broke away to see what had happened. “You’re a mess, darling”, he continued kissing her. “But I’m the mess you love”. Both of them were so intoxicated at the moment, they ignored the use of the word ‘love’. It was something which neither of them had said out loud before, but felt deeply.

“We should go, they will think we are canoodling together”, Tom said.

“But we are canoodling together”

“Yeah but still”

“Fine, but you owe me one”, Y/N said in frustration.

Tom got up from her lap, Y/N stuffed her phone and the cigarette box in her pocket.

“What are we going to do about that?” Tom pointed at the wine glass on the bed of the tub.

“Its white wine so it wouldn’t stain and we were never here”

Y/N opened the door and merged into the sea of people, leaving Tom behind.

---

She found herself in an utterly boring conversation with Lily and her ‘girl squad’. They were talking about the latest Dior makeup line.

How can someone talk about makeup while drunk?

She noticed that Alan was done with his powerful performance of ‘hit me baby one more time’. “Who is next?” he asked the crowd, raising the microphone. Y/N found an opening to escape the conversation. “Me!” she got up, grabbed the mic and climbed the wooden coffee table.

“Who wants to recreate the ‘SOS’ scene with me from ‘Mamma Mia’? Of course I’ll be Pierce Brosnan” she screamed into the mic.

“I’ll be your Meryl Streep”, Tom walked over to the karaoke machine to take the spare mic.

Y/N turned on the music, “I want everyone to sing the chorus with us”

“Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find, I try to reach for you but you have closed your mind”, Y/N stepped off the table and started to walk towards Tom, never losing eye contact with him.

“Whatever happened to our love? I wish I understood, it used to be so nice, it used to be so good”, Tom turned his back to her just like Meryl Streep in the movie.

“So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me, S.O.S. The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, S.O.S”, everyone sang this part excluding Tom.

“When you're gone, how can I even try to go on? When you're gone, though I try, how can I carry on?” Y/N sang this part alone. Tom turned slightly to look at Y/N, he could see it in her eyes that she meant every bit of what she was singing.

“You seemed so far away, though you were standing near. You made me feel alive but something died, I fear”. It was Tom’s time to shine. He noticed that almost everyone in their audience had pulled out their phones to record it.

“I really tried to make it up, I wish I understood. What happened to our love, it used to be so good”, Tom tried his best to overact.

“So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me, S.O.S. The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, S.O.S.” they all sang it, together, on top of their lungs.

Tom and Y/N were, now, standing back to back.

“When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?” Y/N repeated the lines after Tom.

“When you're gone, though I try, how can I carry on?” they held each other’s free hand in a way no one could see it.

The music stopped playing, they turned to look at each other. “Now don’t expect me to do the dirty dancing lift with you, I don’t want to break my back”, Y/N spoke into the mic. The whole room burst into laughter.

---

They were on their way to Y/N’s Camden apartment, their home for the time being. Tom was driving and the local radio was playing at a low volume. Y/N was looking out the window, it was past midnight, and the streets were stranded.

“And now, ‘End Game’ by Taylor Swift”, the radio jockey said.

Y/N was not paying attention to whatever was playing but Tom was. He turned up the volume for her, knowing her, he knew that she wouldn’t want to miss it. Y/N finally noticed the chorus and got excited. She looked over at Tom, giving him a glance that said ‘you know me so well’. He noted the glance, grabbed her right hand delicately and pulled it up to his mouth to give it a kiss.

She took her hand back to increase the volume even more. They had stopped at a red light.

“I hit you like bang”, Y/N sang along, making a ‘bomb blasting’ gesture.

“We tried to forget it but we just couldn’t, and I buried deep hatchets but I keep maps to where I put ‘em”

“Reputation precedes me, they told you I’m crazy” Tom also sang with her.

“I swear I don’t love the drama”, he let her sing this part alone.

“It loves me” she bopped Tom’s nose, scrunching her face.

I love her so much

“I love you so much”, he said.

She looked up, grinning like a devil, saying nothing.

Shit did I say it too soon? Yeah it’s too soon, she’s going to fucking leave me now

“Is it cool that I said that?” he was confused by her silence. The light had turned green and the cars behind them were honking, but his eyes were stuck on her beautiful devilish face.

Just before he turned his wild eyes on the road, she said it.

“I love you too, Tom.”

@mysticapples17​