#i had a single choice for this prompt and i damn well took it

[storms-path]

Au Ra August 2024: Day 11 - Duality (DUAL WIELD!)

"I have to say, this is pretty terific!"

Aren't you tired of being a tank? Don't you just want to go apeshit?

[the-al-chemist]

Before Moonrise

A/N: this was meant to be a sweet, ship-py story for @hphm-ship-week (prompt: Sunset). But then, I handed the mic to Chiara, and she kind of just ran with it. I guess it really is the quiet ones…

Warnings: mention of canon character death, allusions to chronic/stigmatised illness, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them descriptions of injuries.

It was the tiredness that was the worst thing. Not the pain in her muscles or her chest, not the hunger that left her almost shaking between mealtimes, not the constant low-level irritation and short-temperedness that she had to fight to keep under control, not even the taste of the Wolfsbane potion or the niggling fear that this time it might not work. It was the Godric-damned tiredness that got her every month, her fatigue growing with each night the crescent waxed.

By the time the full moon came around, Chiara was always exhausted. Perhaps if that weren’t the case, she would have the energy to fight against her transformations, to stop herself becoming the monster she hid from the rest of the world. But, in all the years she had been dealing with her lycanthropy, she had not had a single month where she had been able to muster the strength to fight it.

At least she had the Wolfsbane potion. Chiara was lucky, as lucky as a werewolf could be. Those few occasions on which she had faced the full moon without it had been horrific, her pain unbearable, her dread and self-loathing all-consuming. She had scars from those transformations that would probably never heal: one up her thigh, one on the side of her ribcage, another curving up and over her shoulder. She hated all of them equally. They were all reminders of how she would never be rid of the monster within her, even when the full moon was not high in the sky.

She would never be rid of the wolf.

But, she could predict when it would rear its ugly head. Even if the growing symptoms in her own body weren’t enough, Chiara had her lunar chart memorised. She knew exactly what time the sun would go down, and when the moon — the dreaded full moon — would go up. As long as she was safely back in her little private room by then, all would be well. Well-ish, anyway.

The only problem with her plan was the lack of predictability that came with volunteering in the Hospital Wing. Granted, Chiara should probably not have been volunteering on the day of the full moon, but with Madam Pomfrey still Medusified, what other choice did she have? Only to tell the Healers from St Mungo’s that she would not be able to work the full moons due to her affliction, and risk ruining her chance at a career in Healing after she left school. Madam Pomfrey took no issues with her lycanthropy, but not everyone was so open-minded. Not everyone would want a werewolf for a Healer. No, she was just going to have to push through the aches and the exhaustion, try not to make any stupid mistakes because of them, and make a swift exit before sundown.

If a swift exit was even possible. She should have known by now that leaving the Hospital Wing was always easier said than done, and today was no exception. Every time Chiara thought that she was done, another student would come in with another ailment. Oliver Wood, a third year Gryffindor, had taken a Bludger to the shoulder during Quidditch practice. As soon as he had walked out the door, in came Barnaby Lee, who had been bitten by Hester, apparently a Murtlap he had been feeding on the shore of the Black Lake. No sooner had she sent Barnaby back to the Slytherin common room with his hand in a bandage than two first-years presented with bloody noses after getting into a physical fight. Normally, Chiara might have spent longer listening to them tell her why they had each been so upset that they had resorted to violence, but by that point, the sun was dangerously close to the eastern horizon. She told them that she didn’t care who had started it, fixed their noses and vanished the blood from their faces, and sent them both packing.

A wave of her wand, and the Hospital Wing was spick and span and ready for the following day, and she was ready to face the night ahead. She shut the heavy doors behind her as she walked out, and turned the key in the lock. Finally, she was able to leave, and not a moment too soon, for the sky had already turned pink with the setting sun.

But, as the lock clicked, she heard someone say her name.

“Chiara?”

It was Jae Kim. He had his hands in his pockets, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he looked at her. Perhaps he had done something to one of his legs?

“I was hoping you’d be here,” said Jae.

“Why, are you not well?” Chiara hoped that he was well. She did not have the time to tend to him if he wasn’t.

“What? No, I’m grand. Fit as a fiddle, me.” Jae grinned, but kept fidgeting. “I just wanted to chat, that’s all. I mean, if that’s alright with you.”

Of all the times to want to chat. Chiara had to stop herself from sighing out loud.

“I’m actually on my way back to my dormitory, Jae.”

“That’s alright, I can walk with you.”

Chiara couldn’t come up with a good reason why he shouldn’t. Not on the spot, anyway. After almost six years of deliberately keeping her distance from her peers, she was running out of excuses. Or, maybe, she just didn’t want to keep her distance anymore.

It had started as a self-preservation mechanism. The closer she got to others, the more likely it would be that they would discover her secret. If they did, the consequences would be disastrous for her and her future. And, as for the rejection she would face, she didn’t think her heart could take the pain. It was far easier to reject everyone first. At least, it had been, until Rowan died and put everything in perspective. Chiara had spent five years living in the same quarters, attending the same lessons, and eating at the same table as Rowan. And yet, they’d barely ever spoken, let alone become friends. Now that she was gone, it was as if something had clicked for Chiara. Now, she’d had enough of being isolated, of isolating herself from everyone around her.

So, she nodded her head, and let Jae accompany her on her walk back to the Hufflepuff common room, the sun getting lower and her stride becoming faster with every brisk step that she took.

“Oi, what’s this?” Jae asked her. His cheeks were pink trying to keep up with her. “I didn’t realise it was going to be a race.”

“It’s not…”

“Or are you just that keen to get away from me?”

“No, I just… Sorry.” Chiara slowed down. It would be more time-efficient to walk less quickly and talk at the same time than to rush back to the basement and stand around chatting for Godric knew how long. “What was it you wanted to talk about, anyway?”

“Oh, I, er…” Jae’s cheeks turned even pinker. He was giving the sky a run for its Sickles. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that I’m really glad you decided to join the Circle of Khanna.”

Was that it? “It was the right thing to do.”

“Yeah, definitely. You’re always doing the right thing,” said Jae. He let out a soft laugh. “What’s it like, being so good all the time?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Chiara told him. “I’m definitely not good all the time.” Before Jae could ask her what she meant by that, she added, “We all have our flaws, don’t we?”

“Some of us have bigger flaws than others though.”

If only Jae knew how true that was. He wouldn’t think her half as good if he did.

“I think you’re probably a better person than you give yourself credit for,” said Chiara, and Jae’s eyes lit up as he smiled.

The walk back from the Hospital Wing to the basement wasn’t short, and Jae had clearly not had that much to say to her, but he kept on walking with her, chatting about nothing consequential and making silly jokes as they went. It was quite nice. It was like having a friend. It was as if she was normal, just like everyone else. She had been tired all week, but now she felt as if she could keep on walking and talking like this all night.

But, of course, Chiara wasn’t just like everyone else. And she couldn’t keep walking all night. She had to get back to her room and lock herself away, before the wolf returned.

“Well, this is me,” she said, once they reached the pile of barrels that hid the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. “Thank you for walking with me.” A pause. “So, goodnight, then.”

“Yeah. ‘Night,” said Jae, but he didn't leave.

Was he just going to stand and watch her as she tapped the barrel sequence to unlock the door? Had that been his aim all along? Was he planning on breaking in later? Well, if that was the case, so be it. She had to get inside, whether he was watching her or not. She turned around and drew her wand.

“Chiara, wait a minute.”

Did Chiara have a minute left to wait? There was no clock in the corridor, nor any windows down here. She no longer had any way of telling what the sun was doing, nor the moon.

“I didn’t just want to talk about the Circle of Khanna, I wanted to…” Jae cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say that I think that you’re really kind and really pretty, and just… lovely, really.”

Chiara blinked. “Well, that’s nice to hear.”

It was nice to hear. It was lovely to hear. Chiara hadn’t known it before that moment, but she had been longing to hear someone say those things about her. But, Jae wasn’t done.

“Yeah, I kind of fancy you a bit, and I’d like to get to know you better…”

It would be better if she turned away, but she didn’t.

“…and I wanted to know if you’d maybe like to go out with me sometime.”

It was time for her to leave, and yet, she stayed.

“We could go and get some food, or a drink, or something. I don’t know. It might be fun.” Jae paused. “So, er, what do you think?”

Chiara didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t been expecting this. And every moment she spent trying to work out how she felt would be another moment closer to moonrise. She couldn’t do this, not now.

“Can I let you know another time?” she asked. Jae’s face fell. “It’s not that I don’t… I just really have to—”

“No. No, it’s fine.” It clearly was not fine. “Forget I asked. It was stupid. Anyway, I’ll let you get on.”

Finally, Jae turned and walked away, obviously crestfallen. Chiara wanted to call after him, to go after him, but she couldn’t. She had to go to her room, her private, lonely little room. It used to be her safe haven, but now it felt like a prison cell. Even through the window, she couldn’t see another soul, only the grass, silvery in the glow of the rising full moon.

She had only just made it back in time. Thank Merlin she had not gone after Jae. He might have fancied her, and he might have thought she was lovely, but he wouldn’t if he knew the truth. And, as flattered as she was by his interest, as much as she hated that she had hurt his feelings, maybe this was for the best. She was ready to try and make friends, but she wasn’t ready to let someone love her, not yet.

And then the moonlight struck her, and her chest was filled with a pain even worse than that of a broken heart as the wolf took over her once more.

[sheikahwarriork]

Got a prompt for you

Dimileth Post-Timeskip pre-Gronder unplanned pregnancy

(thank you so much anon, i had so much fun writing this!! hope you enjoy it too :3 <3)

wordcount: 1.2k

“Fuck!”

“… Fuck indeed”.

Byleth looked up at Mercedes, biting her lips. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”

Mercedes sighed, visibly worried for her professor. “I think… you should at least tell him, professor. The final choice is entirely yours, of course, but he has to know”. She hesitated. “He needs to know”.

Byleth lowered her gaze. “Sadly, I think you’re right”.

The former mercenary was standing in front of the Cathedral, unable to step inside. She caressed her belly almost unconsciously. ‘You’re not a mistake. I just… I'd rather prefer you not to meet your father when he’s… like that’.

The belly didn’t respond.

Byleth was angry. Furious. She had never felt such rage, not even to Kronya the day Jeralt died. And the worst part? She didn’t even know who exactly this rage was for. Herself? Maybe. Destiny? Not exactly; destiny was Sothis, and Sothis was long gone. Him? Well, yes, of course; but not only. Biology? That one, too. Maybe especially it.

Byleth’s gaze wandered inside the Cathedral, immediately recognizing his figure, standing in front of the old Goddess statue, as he did every single fucking day since they reunited.

Okay, maybe that anger was totally for Dimitri. What did he do, since she woke up, since she found him? Kill, talk to the dead; kill, argue with Byleth; kill; and kiss her. He kissed her. He fucking kissed her. That damn bastard, who once was so afraid of his feelings he even took back his love confession, had the gall to grab her and kiss her like she was water and he was lost in a desert. He kissed her at the worst time possible because she had waited for it for so long, and that wasn’t the right time. She had kissed him back. Byleth missed her Dimitri; missed the sweet prince, missed the caring student, missed her kind friend. She shouldn’t have kissed him back. She should have scolded him, have stepped back. That… that wasn’t her Dimitri. Her lips weren’t for that… not-Dimitri. She should have gone away. She hadn’t, of course, because when Dimitri’s hungry lips captured hers, she felt… desire. Longing. Fire; a burning sensation she thought would kill her instantly. It hadn’t. She indulged in the fire, she lost herself in that fire. She was fire; she had been since the beginning.

Byleth shook her head; it was pointless to think about… that. What is done is done.

She stepped inside the Cathedral; he didn’t turn to her, his shoulders startled slightly, the only sign he noticed her presence.

Oh, the anger was back. Like a tsunami. “Oi, asshole!” Byleth shouted, unable to stop herself. “I have something important to tell you, so at least, look at me”.

Dimitri hesitated for a moment, but apparently something in Byleth’s tone caught his curiosity, since he did turn to her. He just shot her a vague questioning glare.

Byleth sighed. She thought about the advice Mercedes gave her, about what to tell him, how to tell him—

“I’m pregnant”.

It didn’t go exactly as planned.

Dimitri’s eyes widened, the hand holding Areadbhar twitched. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her for forty seconds straight.

“… Who”, he eventually said.

Byleth furrowed. “What?!”

“Who dared touch you”, Dimitri growled, his voice raising in tone.

Byleth blinked a few times. “What the hell do you mean”.

Dimitri was getting closer; he stopped a few inches from Byleth’s face.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill whoever dared to touch you, no, whoever dares to even look at you—”

‘Oh… oh heavens, no. He can’t be that dumb, can he?’

“What are you talking about?”

“… The baby’s father, of course”, he hissed, visibly annoyed. “Who is he”. Dimitri looked away, almost as if he was unable to hold her gaze. Almost as if he feared the answer.

‘Oh. He is that dumb’.

“Who do you think he is?” Byleth asked, almost casually. He was going to pay for his dumbness, and she deserved some fun.

Dimitri turned to her, anger in his eyes. “Don’t tease me, you! Tell me who dared touch my—”

“‘Your’ what? Am I yours now?” Byleth interrupted him, folding her arms, holding his gaze.

Dimitri gasped and fell silent. Byleth, still looking him in the eye, grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly.

“This is yours. This— is ours”. ‘You dumbass’, she also thought, but decided to keep it to herself.

Dimitri’s eyes went from their joined hands to her face, looking at her in disbelief.

“Keep in mind—I’m not asking you for help or… or opinions. I don’t need them and don’t care about them. I’m just telling you because you have the right to know—”

Byleth stopped talking when Dimitri suddenly dropped to his knees, their joined hands still placed on Byleth’s belly. It took her a few seconds to notice he was sobbing. Desperately sobbing.

“I’m sorry”, Dimitri was mumbling. “I’m so sorry”.

Yes, Byleth was generally angry with him, but she didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite, in fact. That’s why she yielded and took his face in her hands, looking at him. “Why are you apologizing, Dimitri?” she asked softly.

Dimitri startled, as he did every time Byleth called him by his name. He tried to turn away, but Byleth kept holding him, looking him in the eye. “Answer me”, she demanded.

“I…” Dimitri gasped, searching for words. “Your… child… deserves a better father. A better person. All I know how to do is kill… I have to… They… are telling me this is wrong; I do not have the right—”

“Dimitri”, Byleth interrupted firmly. “A soon-to-be-human is growing inside me. A child will be born. I will be their mother, you will be their father. Now, tell me. Who is more important? The long-gone ones, or the coming ones? Who do you want to dedicate your life to? What, who does your life belong to?”

Dimitri’s eyes were shut, tears along his cheeks. “I… want… it to be yours. Both of you”. His eyes opened. “But, tell me, professor... Please, Byleth, tell me... How do I silence their desperate pleas? How do I... How do I save them? Ever since that day nine years ago... I have lived only to avenge the fallen… How could I be a fitting father for a small creature if I can’t even please those that are already here…”

“Those are not here, Dimitri”, Byleth whispered, her forehead touching his. “But I’m here, and they… they will be soon”, she added, bringing his hand back to her belly. “You just need to choose. Not necessarily now. I’ll… wait for you; I’ll always wait for you.” Her vision was blurred. Was she crying too? ‘I miss you, Dimitri. I miss you so much. Please, don’t leave me alone anymore…’

She would wait until the end of time, if needed, to have a glimpse of her Dimitri back. She knew it, and it hurt. Because she was aware she’d never stop loving him. And, sometimes, to love means to wait. And, often, waiting is painful.

Lost in her tears, she didn’t immediately notice Dimitri’s hands softly caressing her cheeks. When she did, she opened her eyes to meet Dimitri’s resolute gaze. “And I’ll always choose you, my beloved.”

[terresdebrume]

#14, Joe Liebgott ship of your choice <3

Prompts from the "Things you said" prompt list, with 14 being "When I wasn't meant to hear." Send me a number and a character/pairing if you want to see more writing! :D

Thanks for the request! I feel like it took me forever to answer, but in my defense I was at work and also this thing turned out to be 2.5k long :P No particular warning except for the mention of past suicidal thinking towards the end-ish. Also, this is Webgott, because I'm nothing if not consistent (in shipping choices, anyway).

____

Joe looks up from the cutting board, sniffing against the sting of his onions, and glances idly at the kitchen clock, then frowns when he sees the time. Mrs. Obradovic called David out on the phone almost half an hour ago, saying something about an old friend on the line. Joe assumed it would be Chuck or Christenson, asking David round for a night out on the weekend like they do sometimes, but you don’t pay for half an hour on the line to shoot the crap with a guy you see once a month.

As for the others, well. David wasn’t popular with Easy, and Guarnere is the only one who ever bothers calling, usually to let David know to expect his invitation to the next reunion soon. No way Guarnere has that much to say to David though, especially not on a long-distance call. Curiosity piqued, Joe sets his knife down and abandons his half-chopped onion on the cutting board. He wipes his hands on the apron David got him last Hannukah, with the edges fraying where Joe tore off the lacy frills, and quietly makes his way out of the apartment.

They live on the second floor, under the roof. It’s not a bad spot. Too hot in the summer and too damn cold in the winter, for sure…but it’s also soundproofed from when the rest of the building belonged to a single family who didn’t like to remember they had maids and whatnot living up there. Painfully snob, yes, but it does allow Joe to fuck David until he screams without worrying about being overheard, among other things. Pretty good deal, if you ask him. He makes his way downstairs, inhaling the scent of curry behind the downstairs neighbors’ door, and is stepping on the first landing when he hears David’s laughter.

“Well,” David says, sarcastic, “aren’t you just hilarious today.”

Yeah, this is definitely no one from Easy. If he used that tone with any of them, they’d stop calling, and fast. Chuck and Christenson’s connection to David is already more geographical than anything else, Joe doesn’t think they’d take well to being spoken to with that kind of lazy arrogance. Hell, he’s a floor up and not involved, and it’s already grating on his nerves. He’s stepping down on the stairs, ready to go and pull faces at David for speaking like the snotty Harvard upstart he used to be, but then David sighs and says: ‘Of course I do’ in a tired tone that makes Joe pause. Then, before Joe can make his mind up on taking the next step, David adds:

“Who wouldn’t miss space and functional heating?”

Joe’s entire body goes rigid. Downstairs, David is slumping against the wall, one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other fiddles with the cord. He seems. Normal. Casual. Like there’s nothing wrong with him chuckling and saying:

“Mmh. I haven’t had lobster in ages.” There is a pause filled with the light whistle that hasn’t left Joe’s ears since the war. “Definitely. And wine. I haven’t had a really good wine in years.” Another pause, and Joe watches David shake his head. “They’d never take me back.”

Something gives Joe’s gut a violent squeeze, like an icy fist around his bowels. He feels the blood climb into his cheeks, the burn against the back of his neck. in his palms, his nails sting. In the hallway, David’s head tips back, to the ceiling in an open-mouthed, beseeching look. It’s a bad angle, from where Joe is, but there’s no mistaking the sudden tension in David’s shoulders, the way he shifts until both of his feet rest on the ground.

Seething, Joe turns around and thunders back upstairs, slamming the front door closed on the way to the kitchen. The ingredients of his mother’s potatoes and leek soup recipe glare at him from the cutting board. Potatoes, leeks, onions, all grown on the damn roof nobody else uses, because Joe figured it’d be good to have something to lean on in case they hit a rough spot at work. Didn’t even consider planting some vine up there, schmuck that he is. Joe strides to the counter in two quick steps, because that’s all it takes in the tiny unit, and picks the onion back up. He peels it with prejudice, and attacks it with his knife as soon as he’s done, barely registering when David’s slippers click through the hallway and into the kitchen.

Though, of course, the situation can’t hold for long.

“What’s going on?” David asks, and Joe stays silent. David sighs. “Joe. What’s going on.”

“Nothing,” Joe mutters.

He’s not surprised when all that gets him is a click of the tongue and David stepping closer. Damn kid is oblivious at the best of times and rarely inclined to use that big brain of his for common sense, but, well. They have been fucking since Lansberg. Five years is a long time to spend in and out of a guy’s bed without figuring out some of his lies. Even so, Joe doesn’t look up from where he’s making the most finely chopped onion of his life.

“Look, I know I said I’d handle dinner—”

If Joe were honest, he’d admit he’d completely forgotten about that. David’s dinners usually consist of sandwiches and cold cuts anyway, so the benefits of leaving that up to him rarely outweigh the costs. But Joe is not always an honest man, and so he says:

“Don’t sweat it.” Then, when it feels like David is relaxing by his side, he adds: “It’s hardly a loss anyway.”

David draws a breath in, sharp and short as his body recoils. Joe keeps his eyes on his hands, ignoring the sting as he reaches for another onion over the countertop and begins peeling it.

“You said you liked my sandwiches,” David says, something confused in his tone, and it’s such an inane response, Joe finds himself looking up to glare at him.

“They’re fucking sandwiches, Web, not some kind of hot cuisine or whatever the fuck you thought you were doing with it.” David’s eyes go from bovinely confused to shining with hurt, the slant of his eyebrows matching the line of his mouth as it falls open. Then his jaw sets, like it always does, he’s glaring right back at Joe:

“You know what? Fuck this. If you wanted fancy dishes all you had to do was teach me to cook something.”

“I don’t give a shit about fancy dishes,” Joe shouts back, acutely aware that’s the heart of their current problem. “I’m fine with normal food.”

“Wha—how the fuck am I not okay with normal food?” David exclaims, voice pitched higher than normal. “I’ve never complained about your cooking, have I?”

“Well,” Joe says, as snide as he knows how to be, “Maybe you should have. Maybe we should both have complained more. Save ourselves some regrets.”

“Regrets?”

David’s face changes again. From the flushed tone of his temper, it falls into the stoniness of all their true arguments. It’s a cold, impassible face, and if Joe weren’t so fucking pissed every time he sees it he’d maybe take the time to envy it. There’s nothing to read on a face like that, not even when you’ve spent the past five years in and out of a guy’s bed, brushing your teeth over the same tiny sinks in the mornings. It’s the kind of face that could hide anything. Does, too, apparently.

“What regrets are you having, then, Joe?” David asks with the voice of a stranger.

“Not my regrets,” Joe corrects, mouth filling with the bitterness of the words. “I’m fine with what I got.” Then, because the chill hasn’t left his guts and it needs something to get out, Joe hisses: “I have enough space.”

David’s face doesn’t change, but Joe sees it anyway: the line. It’s in the way his shoulders stiffen, the way he straightens up. Joe could stop at that line. Could step away from it and let them go back to their evening. But the fist hasn’t left—presses harder on his insides, on his throat, behind his eyes, and so Joe ignores the warnings and says:

“I don’t give a shit about fancy wine.”

Joe can see David’s jaw working at that, eyes fleeing Joe’s to roam around the room. He’s cottoned on, then. Joe braces for the next step: the narrowing of David’s eyes, the flush climbing up his throat. He leans into Joe’s space to hiss:

“You’re being fucking unfair. And you know it.”

“Unfair? It’s not fucking unfair, Web, it’s honest.”

David’s got nothing to complain about here. He’s not the one who’s been busting his ass for nothing for the past five years. Joe fucking found the space, didn’t he? Painted it, furnished it, arranged it so David would have a fucking space to put his bags down once he finished his precious little degree. Kept it up, too: Joe’s the reason they haven’t have to resort to living in filth. And yet, because it’s not the fucking Fairmont—

“It’s not fucking honest,” David hisses again, arms rigid by his side. “You know I like good things. This isn’t a secret; you make fun of me for it at least three times a week.”

Joe glares at David as he speaks, blood beating hard at his temples. The ice in his stomach spreads out, up and down through his ribcage, his armpits, his spine. He clenches his fists again, but no warmth remains there. He is frozen in place, watching as David says:

“I won’t apologize for it. I won’t. I won’t.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Joe spits out. “Since things clearly aren’t working for you here, what now? Back to New York to beg?”

David’s entire body sags. His shoulders round up, his shirt creasing with the change of posture. Joe, eyes glued onto David’s, is vaguely aware of David’s hands seeking refuge in his pockets. The ice in his chest climbs up, warming, until it boils over the apple of his cheeks and the back of his neck. Still, he stays silent. Watches as David takes an open-mouthed breath, then sighs.

“They’d never take me back,” he says, but this time instead of the flippant thing he’d said on the phone, it comes out quiet and defeated.

It must have been someone from there, Joe realizes too late. Someone calling this other guy named Kenyon to convince him to abandon some kind of lark and come back home. No one in Easy ever really cared to know anything about David beyond his arrogant pride in his Harvard days. Even Joe didn’t ask about it until after the war was over, and getting to know David didn’t feel like volunteering for more scars when he inevitably dropped.

“Exactly,” Joe says, reining in the tension in his voice as best as he can, “so forget about them.”

David scoffs, then turns away from Joe, head leaning back again. Joe listens to the way he breathes in deep, watches the rise and fall of his shoulders. Hears the roughness of his throat when he says:

“You’re not being fucking fair.” Joe hates how quiet he sounds. “You still have your family. I’ve got nothing.”

“You don’t have nothing,” Joe retorts immediately, and flinches when David snorts.

“And what if you get tired of this?” He asks, twisting his head until he can glare at Joe with one withering eye, the apple of his cheek glinting in the slice of afternoon sun that makes it through the kitchen. “What do I have, if I don’t have you?”

David turns away again, breathing in deep. For a moment, Joe watches him. What does David have, outside of him? He’s been here two years. His things are all over the apartment. Joe’s family has almost never set foot in it, and never without warning. And Joe, who is cruelly aware of the ocean that exists between knowing something in the abstract and knowing it for real, is very good at tidying David’s things away. He. Didn’t mean to come to…that. It’s just.

Joe got lucky. More than lucky: he got granted a miracle. He told his Ma about the way he looks at men when he was at his lowest, as a last ditch effort to severe the only tenuous link he still had to sanity and the outside world. Thought that, with that done, he’d finally have the fucking guts to end it all. Instead, he finished explaining and found himself engulfed in his Ma’s arms, head pillowed on her bosom like it had when he was a short and skinny kid, and the sound of her voice in his ears saying ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’ until he had no choice but to believe it. But even so. What if.

Funny, how Joe never really bothered with those two words, before the war. Oh, he’d had plenty awareness of the consequences of his actions. If this, then that. Simple. But ever since Tipper stepped out of that house in Carentan, it’s been what if. What if it were me, what if I’d gotten there sooner, what if Web gets bored, what if Ma changes her mind. What if. And now, here David is, with the same two words stuck in his hands like shrapnel.

Joe looks at him. At the breadth of his back, and the way his shoulders stopped heaving. At the hair that’s starting to get too long at his nape, and the slippers he never fucking puts back on the shoe rack. At the blotchy flush of his nape, and the spot of skin behind his ears that is Joe’s favorite place in the entire world. Joe looks at David, knows the same things he knew yesterday, and the same he will tomorrow. He swallows, and makes himself say:

“You’re never gonna have nothing.”

David’s laughter at that leans a little too close to hysterical. Then, in something that’s almost a whimper, he says: “Joe.”

Joe steps up behind him, lacing his arms around his waist. He feels David’s hands come down and rest on his wrists, as light as a bird waiting to take flight. Then, he raises his nose just enough for it to rest on the spot behind David’s right ear, the one that smells of sweat, aftershave and the occasional dab of pomade. He squeezes David’s waist, just once, his heart pounding.

“You’re not gonna have nothing.”

The birds of David’s hands land more firmly on his wrists, anchoring themselves there as David leans back into Joe’s chest. They stay there for a long time, Joe alternating between nuzzling at David’s neck and placing kisses there, until David’s stomach growls and they’re both hungry enough that they end up eating sandwiches and cold cuts after all.

And the next morning, before David wakes up, Joe calls in sick from work, and drives to his Ma’s house to invite her over for Shabbat.

[unforgivenn]

Confined

Inspired from @whumpasaurus101 's writing prompt from here (hope you don't mind me tagging you :3)

Cw: Blood mention, Failed escape attempt, Breaking of pet, begging, pet names, swearing, creepy asf whumper

Word Count: 658

Alex paced around his room picking at his nails and pulling strands of his dirty blonde hair. There were specks of blood over the room. He couldn't take it much longer. He had to run away from here, from the person who ruined his life, the person who hurt him every single day, the last of all humanity gone in him. Was he breaking? Scars littered all over his body and tears were threatening to fall as he just couldn't take it any longer. But he was determined to take the risk.

'... But what if I get caught. Ethan will kill me right there and then... But then again.. What if it was crazy enough to work.. Maybe.. Maybe there was a village nearby and- and he could ask them for help.. Maybe...' Alex shuddered from the thought of what Ethan would do if he got caught.

The sun was setting.. It would be night soon.. He could leave while Ethan was sleeping..

Once Alex was sure that Ethan was asleep he went towards the door to find it locked.

'Of course its locked..'

He took out a pin from underneath his mattress that he had managed to secretly grab from Ethan and started picking the lock. A few seconds passed and the lock opened. Alex pushed open the door slowly careful not to wake Ethan up. He tiptoed towards the front gate which took him a while to find. He had never been anywhere else than the basement and the so called "punishment room" which Ethan called.

Alex was panicking. His mind a fogged up mess of thoughts. His breathing started quickening as he started having second thoughts about his choice.

May-Maybe I should just go back before he gets to know.. No.. NO! I can't live this fucked up life any more.

It was too far to go back now as he started hearing Ethan yelling his name and stomping towards the front door. Alex pushed the door open as he started running as fast as his legs could but Ethan was picking up with him as he heard him demanding Alex to turn back now. Alex spotted a closed bathroom not too far as he sprinted towards it, slamming the door shut and pressing his back onto the door while his breathing grew uneven.

"Oh Alleexxx, lovvee, why Dont you come out now and maybe I'll reconsider your punishment. How does that sound? Hm?

Silence.

"ALEX YOU REALLY DON'T WANT TO SEE WHAT I'M CAPABLE OF!"

No, he didn't. He really did not want to see what his captor was capable of.

He tried to move his legs but it was as if his foot was pinned and hammered to the ground.

"No no no. This cannot be happening right now. move god damn it"

His eyes filled with tears as the stomping grew louder and louder. There was no getting out. He was going to be in this fucked up place forever. Suddenly the door to the bathroom broke open as Ethan stormed inside. Alex stumbled backwards as he looked towards his captor terrified of what was to come.

"No.. Oh god.. Please no.." He couldn't help but let out a sob only for Ethan to grin at it.

"Well well well. We can't certainly leave that unattended now can we? It seems as if my little dove has forgot his place. Well somebody's got to show it right?"

Alex flinched when Ethan got hold of his jaw forcing him to look him in the eye.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you"

"Y-yes sir"

Ethan's grin only seemed to grow wider at that.

[bluesdesk]

Hello!! I know I’m really inactive but I've joined the CTCGiftx2024! My giftee, @najikasunart, wrote some prompts that I tried to mix (hopefully into something that makes sense XD), and damn I really loved working on the resulting fic!

I think it might be one of my best fics so far, if not the best! Here it is!

Sky and Wild centric! Hurt/Comfort, nobody dies, there's some blood! And some happy moments at the end, 8008 words :D

You can also read it here, under the cut!

Words (and their consequences)

Sometimes a bad choice of words can cause one to be hurt. Other times, those words might destroy who happened to hear them. The latter is way rarer, but when it happens, it's really difficult to get those words off the mind of a scattered person. The heroes know it well. One time they were talking about magic, at the beginning of their adventure, and Warriors, not paying attention to his words, and still mad at Cia, said that dark magic was the worst and everyone using it should be damned. Twilight took it really badly, and decided he'd keep his wolf form a secret. Four got silent and left the conversation. Legend took a couple of rings off his hand and put them in his bag. Warriors noticed, and gave them his most sincere apologies, but Twilight couldn't get past that and kept the secret until he could, until the damn lizalfos almost killed him.

Of course, the heroes aren't perfect nor do they know everything that might hurt another companion. They try their best to avoid any topic that could be triggering, but battles can be exhaustingly hard, and make the chain forget.

This time, they were fighting against Dink again, that had chosen to shapeshift from lizalfos to Dark Twilight. Days had passed since they left the unknown Hyrule, they had other smaller battles, and traveled through a few portals. Twilight had recovered enough to fight but he surely wasn’t in perfect shape. The monster, now a dark silhouette, had passed days in contact with Twilight, a part of it getting into his system and studying every single inch of him, until Hyrule’s magic was too much for it to handle and it left the body allowing the rancher to heal. Anyway, Dark Link had enough info at that point.

The battle took place in a vast field, no sign of recent civilization, the grass looked wet and a bit slippery. They hadn’t gotten the chance to look around and recognize the era, as they hopped off the portal and found Dink standing there, eyes red, holding what looked like a sword behind his back, and with a horde of blue and red bokoblins behind. Sky felt like something was oddly familiar with that weapon, and realized in shock the Dark was holding Demise’s sword. If Ghirahim was there too, the battle was going to be a bloodbath! With a scream, badly sounding like a “hyaaa”, the Dark unleashed the other monsters, before Sky could say a word. They were from his era. They were in his era.

And so it began, the heroes trying to come up with a plan as fast as they could, Sky instructing them, shouting while fighting, on how to handle those monsters. In the meantime, Time and Twilight were the closest to Dink, as it was mimicking Twilight’s movements, Twilight’s best movements, from when he didn’t even have a scratch. The two heroes had noticed, and chose to defend themselves rather than attack, to at least tire it and distract it from attacking the others, who were fighting the secondary enemies, moving as fast as they could to reduce their number and then help with Dink. Warriors went closer to Sky to confess he somehow knew the demon lord and the imprisoned, yes it wasn’t the right time for that but he felt the need to tell him what he faced must have been at least terrible. Sky had only enough time to reply with “yeah”, and then back to swinging his sword, parrying with his shield, and mostly concentrating on the goal: clear enough monsters to go help Time and Twilight, and maybe face Ghirahim if he was still in there.

He hoped Ghirahim was at least asleep like Fi.

A blue bokoblin targeted him and he dodged the attack, then proceeded to cut through its skin. It attacked again in vain, Sky already knew their tactics. With the last swing of Fi, the bokoblin fell on the ground, screamed, then disappeared, leaving only black blood behind. That wasn’t any news for them, of course, given the fact Dink was right there. Another blue bokoblin, another precise sequence of attacks.

And then another, another…

Until someone screamed. One of them. Warriors was next to the chosen hero and wasn’t hurt, Time and Twilight were still around Dink, Hyrule was running towards a bloody Wind. Wind’s right side was bleeding! Sky rushed there to help, those monsters were from his era, they should have all targeted him, not Wind! He was there quickly enough to stick his sword into the abdomen of a red bokoblin, luckily that was enough to put it down. He proceeded to cover Hyrule as he carried Wind away to get medication.

Less heroes, but less enemies, he thought. Just one, precise stab, and an infected red bokoblin was gone. The others were having a harder time with them, maybe it was Fi’s power to be unbearable for the monsters.

He continued slashing and parrying until he felt like he was going in a loop, something was wrong. Giving a better look at all the area, he noticed the number of monsters had remained exactly the same. They were respawning… Ghirahim could do that, he once spawned them to prevent him from reaching Sun!

Hyrule ran back to the battlefield, Sky signed him to take his place, while he turned around and joined Time and Twilight, informing them they needed to destroy that sword first or all their efforts would be in vain.

Warriors heard that and joined them. Now four heroes were against Dink, Wind was out and the other four were slowly moving behind to be back to back with the first quartet. They’d defend them as they tried to destroy or damage Demise’s sword. As Sky imagined, Fi was fighting her own battle against Ghirahim, both still into their respective weapons, both half asleep, but they were there.

While Time, Twilight and Warriors attacked Dink, Sky was trying so hard to hit the sword and shatter it.

But the Dark was swift. After several times he was losing hope… then saw a feeble blue light coming from the Master Sword. Was Fi helping him somehow? He concentrated. Just one, precise, fast motion. Now!

The Master Sword clashed with its counterpart so hard everyone heard it. The weapon fell from Dink’s hands, the tip into the ground. When he gave Demise the fatal blow, the sword fell in that same way, then disappeared. He thought he had destroyed it along with the demon deity. And this time, it disappeared too. Was it enough? He didn’t know, but took the chance to swing Fi directly at Dink as it was unarmed.

Dink dodged and laughed maniacally, as the sword reappeared right in front of the hero’s eyes.

Sky couldn’t believe it. The following blow sent him out of the battlefield, right where Wind was resting, his back hit a tree and he screamed in pain, both for the impact and for the blood coming from a dangerous scar on his chest. Luckily, he had an enhanced red potion. His condition was so bad, he had that potion that could be used twice, and drinking only half meant his recovery would be full but take one hour at least…

He swallowed it all.

It took him ten minutes to be able to walk again, too long minutes, in which Warriors was hit on the head, lost consciousness, and was rescued by Legend. Yes, Sky should have waited more for the potion to have full effect, but he didn’t care, he had to get back there. He couldn’t make another “brother of the sword”, as Wild liked to address them, get hurt like that! Yes, when he met Legend and Wars on his way back to the field, he had a spare normal red potion he could give the captain. No, he didn’t have another one besides that. He only had a last resort he had never used during this adventure. Only one. Immense power, invincibility, then total exhaustion. He hoped he could avoid using that.

When he got there again, Hyrule scolded him for getting up too soon. He needed to rest, or he wouldn’t heal properly, and anyway he would be vulnerable as he wasn’t at his best! Sky knew he was right, his back was still hurting, but now it didn’t matter, he didn’t have time to listen to him, so he turned away and faced the other heroes and… Dink? Where was it?

The faces of the others turned from confusion to horror when a scream reached their ears and Sky turned around again to see Hyrule with a huge cut right where Twilight got his. The Dark had taken advantage of that short discussion to attack him easily. Sky and Legend shielded him from the other monsters as the traveler healed himself, his magic was just enough to make the wound not fatal, he then fainted, and Legend carried him away, next to Warriors and Wind who were slowly recovering but in no shape to fight. Without the healer, Wind, and Warriors, and everyone else getting tired, the hypothesis of a defeat was getting closer.

Dink reappeared next to Time, who managed to parry without getting hurt. Sky had helped Wild with the bokoblins while Legend was out of the battlefield, then went back to join Twilight and Time as they circled Dink. They were tired but they’re excellent fighters, and with a lot of concentration, Sky managed to make the Dark unbalanced by hitting Demise’s sword other times, and the other two took advantage of that moment to impale it with their swords, causing the dark to scream in a voice that sounded like Twilight’s but distorted and horrific. It laughed maniacally again, and the sword went floating above everyone. It had really woken Ghirahim up. Sky got ready. Everyone looked up for a moment but Twilight took a second too long, he was so tired, almost at his limit. For the lack of dark blood, Dink turned back to its formal lizalfos shape and hit Twilight right on his still healing scar with its heavy tail. The pain and exhaustion were so strong the rancher fainted. Without looking back or stopping at all, Dink had run away and disappeared in the forest around the field.

Legend, Four and Wild noticed the bokoblins weren’t spawning anymore, and went back to reduce their number. Time took Twilight and brought him away, feeling his rage increasing. Of course he would heal quickly this time but damn it, it still hurted. And moreover, they had 4 heroes unable to fight! This was the worst battle ever, and it could go even worse. Wind and Warriors were awake and reassured him they were going to be fine, Wind’s side had a huge scar instead of a deep cut and blood, but his strength was yet to be restored. And Wars had a huge bump on his head, and Hyrule and Twi were k.o.

In the meantime, the moment Sky was sadly waiting for happened. Demise’s sword emanated a disgusting red light, and in no time the heroes were facing the man with a pale skin, a red cape, and a strange hairstyle. Ghirahim’s target was Sky of course, but the chosen hero was ready and blocked all his attacks. He knew him too well to commit any mistake. Time came back, he was furious. Sky looked like he was keeping up well. Like the other time, he could help the others with Din’s fire. Then, everyone would be free and they’d all concentrate on Ghirahim. It could work. Maybe the fire would startle the enemy a bit too.

So Time went for it, a sphere of fire emanated from his sword, magical fire, that destroyed all the smaller enemies without hurting any of the heroes or the nature around. Ghirahim though didn’t even flinch, instead he quickly left Sky alone and targeted Time with his red diamond shaped blades. Time was on his knee, about to stand up after using the spell. Sky was quick enough to notice his enemy was about to change the target and shouted “shield!”. Time took the mirror shield and protected himself from all the blades… except the one stuck just above his knee. He held back a scream of pain and stood up when the magical blade disappeared. Ghirahim laughed and walked closer and with his hands was about to create another set…

When his arms dropped and his expression changed to anger and pain. The Master Sword firmly in his shoulder, Sky holding it tightly with both his hands.

Everyone knew that wasn’t enough but the damage was surely high. Ghirahim lost his temper, leaving Time alone and turning back to Sky with a crazily furious face. “I never imagined you’d become this quick”, he said with his voice sounding way more metallic and serious. “But you know I can do much more than this!”.

Everyone watched as Ghirahim changed shape, color, and nature. Almost everyone, except for Sky and Warriors, had been questioning how a human could appear from a sword, now everyone knew ghirahim’s true form. Legend, Wild, Four and Time walked closer to help Sky, but Ghirahim sent them away with something like an energy wave, as a circular gate made of diamond shapes appeared around him and Sky. Legend and Wild tried to run into it, jump over it, damage it, but nothing worked, it looked like they had an invisible tall wall all around. They realized they could do nothing but watch. Legend went to check on Hyrule and the others, he and Twilight were slowly regaining consciousness. The others looked for any potion, or fairy, or anything that could help Sky after the match in case he got hurt (again) and realized in shock they had no red potions left. Nor stamina. Only some magic ones, Hyrule would most likely use them to heal the others but he still wasn’t ready.

Four’s mind felt so divided and it wouldn’t shut up. His worries, sometimes Green’s, sometimes Red’s, for his friends clashed with Vio’s and Blue’s questions about Ghirahim. Was there a way to defeat it? The sword itself? Or was it going to disappear again and reappear later to doom them all? If it could be destroyed, why hadn’t Sky done it during his adventure?

Wild had some meals left but nothing with enough healing qualities, he surely couldn’t give him a ton of like… apples, to reach the properties of a potion. He was getting terrified. Ghirahim was no other than a demon god’s servant, assistant, and weapon. Ghirahim’s master was the source of all evil. And Sky was already tired and hurt, and he had no potions and nobody could help. If he allowed himself to loosen the guard for a millisecond, Ghirahim would kill him with nobody able to stop it! Were the heroes going to lose a member for real this time? Was he about to lose a brother of the sword again? He needed to stay calm and avoid acting like days ago, he had promised Four he wouldn’t lose control again.

And Sky and Ghirahim were fighting. Sky's movements were precise, but certainly not his best. Maybe he was just so tired. After long minutes of swords clashing Sky felt the exhaustion and the pain increasing rapidly, Ghirahim laughing, that disgusting noise making the situation even harder and more hateful and he damn knew he wouldn’t win like that, he would collapse. Why did he feel pain again? Did he get new injuries? He quickly found himself unable to do anything useful, he was just defending himself. He couldn’t move enough to attack. He was getting slow. The others outside the gate were watching the show breathlessly.

Sky’s last resort was there, the white colored potion. He hesitated a bit, while dodging a set of diamond blades. He had to drink it. He’d destroy Ghirahim, and get his damn rest. When he got the potion, Luv and Bertie told him to be extremely cautious and only use it when he had no other option. He’d be too exhausted to fight at all after the three minutes of invincibility, he had to be sure to defeat the enemy in that short time.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

He gulped it all in one sip, and in no time felt his energy coming back, his strength increasing, his skin getting thicker. A diamond blade was thrown at him, it met his arm, stopped and fell, like it had impacted on a wall. No scratches, no pain. Sky felt like a superhero. Three minutes were enough. He charged at Ghirahim, Fi was pointed towards the enemy’s huge diamond on his bust. This time, it was Ghirahim trying to defend himself how he could. Could a sword spirit feel fear? Sky didn’t know. Three minutes.

The others were all watching, Time could almost see himself wearing the Fierce Deity mask and fighting Majora in Sky and Ghirahim. They were all surprised and even Wind got closer to the gate to watch.

Finally, they heard a scream, and glass shattering. They all stood up as the gate disappeared, and looked at Sky, the most furious he could be, standing still with the Master Sword in hand. At his feet was Ghirahim, with his diamond broken. Sky was taking deep breaths that slowly turned into panting, almost wheezing, and then a smirk. He had really done it! He couldn’t believe in himself, he had destroyed it!

The three minutes were ending. The others didn’t know anything about the potion nor the side effects.

In no time Sky felt like he had been struck by lightning, his movements got so slow and then he couldn’t move, he was just… standing there, unable to do anything other than breathing. His right arm, with Fi, was slightly shaking. He realized he couldn’t control his body.

His relief and satisfaction instantly turned into terror. What was happening to him?

Like his fight with Demise, his enemy had gotten a fatal wound. Right in the chest. But somehow, for he didn't know what force, the enemy still had the strength to pronounce a last sentence.

Ghirahim lifted his head, and a forced laugh came out of his mouth. Sky wanted to stop him, give him another final blow, end him once and for all. But he couldn't move. Even his voice felt stuck there, and now his hand was visibly shaking and he still couldn't do anything about it!

And Ghirahim started talking, Sky couldn’t concentrate.

Was he stuck there? Was he going to cast another curse? Was Sky going to die right then because of all the potions he took in a relatively too short time?

Wild appeared in front of Sky, furious, with the Master Sword in hand, that he quickly pressed into Ghirahim’s already broken diamond with all his force, enough to make Fi stick in the ground beneath him. Ghirahim's sentence ended with a choked wheeze, in the middle of a curse he was about to cast but then lost all its value. In no time, only a broken and powerless sword was left, that Wild put into his slate for later.

Wild must have taken Fi from Sky's hand, though the chosen hero hadn't noticed, or felt, anything.

Only that his head was spinning and the pain from before he took the guardian potion had come back stronger and he felt like falling but his knees didn’t bend at all.

Wild quickly and quite scarily turned his face to Sky. Oh Hylia he was so angry. He looked so done.

“Why didn't you finish it?”

He raised his voice.

“SKY. WHY didn't you finish it??”

Sky was really trying to answer. His voice came out so low it looked like he was whispering.

“I…”

The world got blurry. Everything had happened in like 2 minutes. From when Sky stopped moving to when Wild talked. Was he slowly losing consciousness, was he slowly fainting? Sky felt like he was going to fall any second now, he just wanted to rest, to move, to scream. But Wild didn't seem to understand, maybe from the outside Sky looked better than how he really felt. Wild spoke again.

“You what?? It could have cursed us! Or killed you!”

And yes Sky now really felt like he was a failure, if he and Ghirahim were alone that monster would have cursed everyone and then killed him with the remaining strength! Sky knew it! A failure! And he needed to scream and the world was spinning and his ears were ringing so loud, he was about to faint and Wild was right there in front of him literally showing him how easy was his one job he didn’t do!

“YOU DESTROY THINGS NOT ME!”

was the only thing coming out of Sky's mouth, sounding so broken, and so loud.

“AT LEAST IT'S A THING! YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT!” Shouted Wild. He had snapped again.

And after that, Sky finally fell. Heavily on the ground, pale.

Four reached Wild, his eyes so blue, and looked him right in the eyes, getting mad at him for losing his temper again. Wild came back to senses, Fi still in his hand. He left her on the ground and quickly kneeled down to help Sky, rambling, a sequence of “Oh Hylia” and “I’m sorry” escaping from his mouth. How hadn’t he noticed anything? Sky had been right in front of him, surely already pale and dizzy and unable to move, and he hadn't noticed anything! He let his anger towards Dink, Ghirahim, his own failure and fear to lose another one, and who knows what more, win. And of course he wasn't angry at Sky at all, he was extremely worried he could get killed or cursed by his enemy in its last moments that he didn't really look at him and notice Ghirahim wasn't the main problem there. The same had happened with Twilight. Four had helped him again. This time, though, Wild had snapped back to his senses much faster. He could help.

Sky's heart was beating… too slow. His breath wasn’t normal. Something was so wrong there, pure exhaustion couldn’t make one so messed up. He alerted the others and Legend quickly ran to Hyrule.

In the meantime Wild tried to wake Sky up, but nothing worked, and he started crying. The downfall duo came back and the healer examined Sky. His wound from Dink had closed in a too forced way, too soon and thus too badly. His back looked bruised and hurt, like if a vertebra or 2 were in the wrong position and pressing against his skin. He was full of fresh smaller cuts, almost the same one Time had gotten from the diamond blade. But the main problem there was inside. A cocktail of potions, as Hyrule defined it, taken in a too close time and all super powerful. They had acted like poison together, the guardian potion made the process slower until the magic effect lasted, and then it quickly got him, because that clear potion itself left the hero without any strength to resist. Sky had been poisoned by the potion he had taken, and he had taken them to get back to fight Dink and Ghirahim, to save his companions, to prevent them from getting hurt. Did he feel like everything was his own responsibility?

Hyrule used his spell, luckily none of Sky’s injuries were infected, but he had to work hard to fix what the potions had done, and he wouldn’t wake up for hours until he regained some strength. If only he had rested when he got hurt the first time he wouldn’t have been in that situation.

____________________________

Sometimes a bad choice of words can cause one to be hurt. Other times, those words might destroy who happened to hear them. The latter is way rarer, but when it happens, it's really difficult to get those words off the mind of a scattered person. That had just happened

____________________________

Sky found himself in a void area. He was floating. Yeah, that looked pretty much like his prophetic dreams, but il felt vivid. A light lit up and Wild was talking in the distance, he couldn’t hear him. He needed to reach him, but he found himself unable to move, like before. He was floating there, just watching.

The void turned into a beach and a kid, probably 12 years old, in a light blue shirt and curly blonde hair approached him. His rolled sleeves showed arms full of scars, he was crying. He looked at Sky and seemed to have found a little relief. “Please stranger! My sister has been kidnapped, I must save her but it’s hard! Please help me!”. Sky wanted to help, that was Wind, during his first adventure. The kid looked so scared. But Sky couldn’t move. After he didn’t know how long, the little Wind went away, disappointed.

He had failed him.

And then he heard a small voice calling him. Another kid showed up, he was younger, 10 years old at best. He had freckles and curly brown hair. “Sir… I got lost, I’m scared, I don’t know how to go back home and there are monsters all around. Please help me!”. The black void was now Hyrule’s land, and the hero was just a small unarmed kid. Sky really needed to do something! But he couldn’t! And little Hyrule left with nothing but sadness on his face, into a too dangerous, desolate land. Sky still didn’t know how he survived.

He had failed him.

And then the land shifted into a field, and a forest in the distance. Another little kid showed up, blonde hair, long ears, and already a sword and a wooden shield in hand. He was on the verge of tears. When he noticed Sky he too felt relieved and ran into him. He was asking for affection, he had just lost his father and left his siblings in the forest, and his sister Saria made him understand he wouldn’t come back. He asked for directions, for a hug, for company. And Sky didn’t answer. The kid ran away, sobbing. “This is unfair! I just want to go back home!” Was the last thing he said before he and his land disappeared into the void.

Kids. They were just kids. He wanted to cry but he was stuck there and couldn’t even do that, that feeling was the worst he had ever had. Wild reappeared in sight and Sky regained his speech, like if Wild was controlling his abilities. Wild came closer, and said he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was only showing him the truth: he couldn’t do enough, he was too slow, back then with Demise and recently with Ghirahim, he had let the demon curse everyone and the repercussions had echoed in all the eras, forcing teens and kids to endure endless suffering. Then, he disappeared again, leaving him floating there.

And then other kids and teens appeared, he tried to interact with them, to talk, but they couldn’t listen. They asked him for help, he answered, they either couldn’t hear him or were disappointed at his answers. And they were all his current companions, reversed to their age on their first adventure. Wind, Hyrule, Time, Legend and Four were so damn young. And Wild appeared and introduced them as they walked.

He had never had such long dreams of that kind. But that oniric Wild, he was right. Sky had failed them all and wasn’t worthy of being with them. They were all in danger with him around, he’d slow them down and they’d end up getting cursed or killed because of him! He wasn’t meant to hang out with those real heroes, he couldn’t even kill his own enemy! He needed to go away before they found out about the curse, or they would never forgive him. Yes they’d be questioning his absence for some time, but then they’d realize they’d be faster and generally better without him getting in the way.

After some time, probably hours, Wild reappeared in front of him. This time, he could not only see and hear him, but also feel his presence, he looked so real. His hands were covered in flames, and he was slowly going closer. Sky quickly found himself on the floor, able to move his arms and hands again. He mumbled some incomprehensible sounds and tried to defend himself as the oniric Wild hovered his flaming hands around his face and, as soon as they made contact with his cheeks, he screamed.

____________________________

That woke him up. He was terrified. He was sweating, he was panting, he was panicking, he was…

in a bedroll and Wild, the real Wild, was in front of him, cupping his face with warm, absolutely not burning hands. He had cooked something, since there was an amazing smell of food. In fact, he noticed a steaming cup of pumpkin soup laying right next to Wild. Sky’s breath was going back to normal as Wild guided him in inhaling and exhaling, and the others all stood up and came closer to see him finally getting up after…

“You’ve been knocked out for 3 days” Hyrule said, getting closer and kneeling down to check on him.

Sky looked around while Hyrule checked his wound. They weren’t in that field but somewhere else entirely.

“We’re in a new era, still unknown to us. We’ve traveled through a portal shortly after the last battle”.

Sky realized the others had carried him around, defending him, wasting their potential for him, while he was totally useless. On the other side of the bedroll, Wild was patiently waiting for Hyrule to finish, with the soup now in his hands. He looked like he had understood Sky’s intentions, and told him everything will be alright, no need to worry. Hyrule, instead, chose to be more direct, telling him he should have taken one potion and then rested like everyone else did, instead of taking not one, but two enhanced potions together and then rushing into battle when his body wasn’t ready and then taking another absolutely not healing potion that erased his already lacking strength and had side effects his body still couldn’t bear. He concluded by saying the situation was worse than he imagined, if it took not hours but 3 days to heal. He was fine now though. He just needed to stay away from danger and potions for a few days to heal completely. Wild gave Sky his soup and Sky stared deeply at it, telling Hyrule “you will never see me do that again”.

Hyrule looked satisfied, smiled at him, patted his right shoulder, and walked away to inform the others about the situation. Wild had to go too, but after standing up he stared, worried, at Sky eating his soup. Something about what he said was extremely strange, if it was any other hero saying that, Wild would have thought the boy had secretly planned to do something extreme. But Sky would never do that, he was always so sunny, bringing happiness… unless he was in a fight with his worst enemy that nearly killed him and then someone even told him he was useless. Damn. Sky looked fine though, enjoying his soup. Maybe it was just him worrying too much. He walked towards the others, who were sitting on some logs and bedrolls around a fire with a pot on, and asked if anyone wanted more soup.

____________________________

During that day, Sky had been acting quite normally, only a bit thoughtful, less smiley. He and the others had a training session, walked around in search of a town, found a spring of fresh water and filled all their water bottles, finally found a small village and bought arrows, potions and food. They asked around for monster sightings but the people there knew nothing. They booked a room in an inn and prepared to spend a relaxing night for once. Of course, everyone thought Sky was still recovering from that battle that hurt him physically and mentally, and didn’t question his lack of smiles and laughs.

Instead there was a deeper reason, he had to escape. That night nobody was taking shifts, as they were all in the safety of beds. Sky had been questioning himself many times during the last hours if it was the right thing to do, he loved his companions, but every time the thought of them being slowed down by his presence, he was more convinced he had to leave the heroes. They’d thank him later. If it wasn’t him, if Wild or Legend or Four were fighting Ghirahim instead of him, they would have ended it sooner and less pathetically and they surely wouldn't have frozen in front of it and maybe they wouldn't even have needed the guardian potion. Ah yes, the only thing he managed to do in all of it was poisoning himself apparently.

But Fi… the others were her masters too, he couldn’t bring her with him. It would be like stealing everyone’s most valuable weapon. Yes that Master Sword was his, the others had their own in their own times.

In their own times, not there. Was he really going to leave without her? Maybe he’d go back, maybe when everything had ended he’d join the others back to take Fi and bring her home with him. Or maybe not, maybe Fi was destined to travel with those real heroes. After all, Ghirahim was dead now, wasn’t it? Demise was gone too, and Sky’s other tools or a simple sword were more than enough for the smaller monsters in his era.

He was losing a too long time there thinking about it. The right thing was obviously leaving her with the group! So, Sky took his other tools, a few food rations,his sailcloth, and a potion… no, no potions. Hyrule had told him he had to avoid potions for some days. He finally closed his bag and, as quietly as he could, left the inn. He wasn’t heard or seen by anyone.

____________________________

Everyone slept so well that night. Twilight woke up early to watch the sunrise, without any worry, just for that day. The rancher hadn’t paid attention to the silhouettes of his companions sleeping in their beds, why would he have to anyway. They were all warm and safe and the village was lively, really no sign of any monster, he had started to question why they were there, maybe Hylia was giving them some rest, or maybe, like the other time, the enemy was hiding in the woods. Twilight was sitting on the steps of the little stone staircase leading from the ground to the entrance of the inn, just looking around and enjoying the peace. There was a round square with a fountain in the center, and the buildings were around it. All around, there was a field and then a forest. They were most likely high in altitude, probably on a mountain valley, as he could see the silhouettes of mountaintops, and everything was made of wood and stone. It was really peaceful.

Twilight was later interrupted by Four, looking quite surprised.

“I thought Sky would have woken up after all of us, instead he got up before me and Hyrule! Hyrule wanted to check on both of you, but Sky isn’t inside. Were you two together?”

Twilight’s face showed pure confusion. Nobody had opened or closed that door before Four that morning.

“Strange, there’s no chance he got up before you and went for a walk. And if that was the case he should be here now already. But I assure you he’s not inside the inn. The Master Sword is on his bed though.”

After some minutes in which the two stared at each other in total confusion, Hyrule and Wild showed up.

The first two informed them about the situation and as Hyrule joined them with a confused face, Wild realized his concern from the day before wasn’t unfounded and quickly alerted the other 3 and rushed in to wake the others up. There was no time to lose. Maybe Sky hadn’t heard his apologies, maybe everything that happened had impacted him more than what everyone could have imagined.

The 8 heroes were all in the bedroom. Silent. Looking at the Master Sword and then at each other, all ready with weapons and shields and tunics. Though usually, Sky would have charged them all with optimism and energy and they would have taken the path all together smiling and laughing at someone's horrible joke. Time couldn’t understand how they had ended in that situation, yes he and Wild had had that messed up discussion but was that alone enough to cause Sky to react that way? Maybe, everyone realized, he had been told he was useless before, maybe in his quest, by someone important, and that had left a huge scar that had been reopened. Wild had a similar story, if someone told him he was a failure, if one of his companions died because he wasn’t fast enough or good enough to save them, he would have done the same, like he almost did when Twilight was hurt. Of course, not because of that single episode, but because of everything behind it. Maybe, the scar had never truly closed and Sky had forced himself to be optimistic and happy to avoid showing them he felt like he wasn’t enough. If that was the case, the chance he would do something extreme was higher. They had to find him as soon as possible!

They didn’t know that place nor where to look. Their initial research was inconclusive. They looked around the village, in the nearest woods, they took the opposite route of the day before, they asked some villagers, but nothing. Where had Sky gone? Was he really that far? They even divided and searched in groups, but came back to the inn with nothing. It was already afternoon, in about 3 hours the sun would have setted. They were getting tired. They absolutely didn’t want to leave Sky alone, but they had no idea on what to do.

Wild took the Master Sword and held it eye level. Sky had said Fi was way more than a voice. She was a companion… and a guide! Maybe she could help, if she was still there.

They couldn’t talk with her or see her, but maybe…

Wild walked to the center of the square, near the fountain, and held the sword with both his hands. He started moving it aimlessly, upward, downward, forward. He needed to understand how to make it work.

Then, he noticed a feeble blue light appearing for a moment then disappearing, something was happening. He swung it again and again and noticed the light appeared always when held horizontally. The others noticed too and came closer. Wild held it firmly, forward. The light was there, but so dim, almost nothing. Slowly, he started turning around, completing a segment of a circle. And then a semi circle, still nothing more happened. The others looked surprised and confused, but they felt there was something right with what Wild was doing. And after another bit, a visible blue light lit up.

They didn’t know what it was, how it happened and what it meant. But maybe Fi was really trying to show them the way, they could follow her direction, it was worth trying.

For maybe the first time after he woke up in the shrine, Wild was not only following directions, but also giving the others directions. He had been in charge of using the Master Sword as he had found out how it worked. Nobody else’s Master Sword had any ability other than being able to seal darkness and channeling energy for a spin attack, so the heroes were all extremely curious. Even Time found that interesting, and Legend and Four were trying to understand the magic and logic behind the ability.

The path they took was full of obstacles, but of course the shortest. Fi was guiding them towards the forest, the dense vegetation and tall fir trees created patterns of lights and shadows, that reminded them they now had about 2 hours to find Sky before they found themselves traveling in the dark. The ground was slippery and some slopes were steep, and yet they were almost running, the sword giving them hope.

Wild couldn’t deny that looking for Sky, with him as the leader, was making him feel useful and put aside his own recurring thoughts about his failure. Maybe being alone for so long had enhanced those, and now adventuring with some companions was finally making him see the truth. He couldn’t say he was totally over it, or he wouldn’t have lost control when Twilight was dying and when Sky was about to be cursed, but he was surely healing. After that adventure, when he’d eventually go back, he needed to explore his land with Flora and help every citizen. That thought made him smile softly.

Four and Legend, walking next to him, noticed it and asked if he sensed they were getting closer. Wild answered the smile was for something else, but they surely were, every step in the right direction was shortening their distance. Or at least, they hoped so. They chose to believe in Fi’s light, that, they had noticed, was somehow getting brighter.

They couldn’t believe Sky could have walked that far by pure force of will. They were taking a huge shortcut, with Fi’s help, and they had already taken 2 hours to get where they were. They still hadn’t found him and they only had one hour. Twilight checked his amount of oil for the lantern, Legend and Four checked their own tools. Wars used to have a lantern during his quest but it broke, luckily Legend said he had another one in case they needed more light. Nobody was surprised by his statement. Classic Legend.

Then, Four noticed something. There were monster footprints on the muddy ground. Lizalfos, most likely.

So there were monsters in that era! Monsters they had to catch and destroy before crossing another portal. Near the monster’s, a human pair of footprints was imprinted on the ground, coming from the right, turning and going straight ahead. And the Master Sword was pointing right in that direction.

Did the monsters take Sky? Or did Sky chase them? There was only one way to know.

The heroes were running, now with the footprints and Fi’s help together following the path was a piece of cake. Maybe they were still on time. They were getting a bit worried, but Sky was the best at fighting, yes his shape wasn’t the best but he could make it. As they got deep into the forest, they noticed it was full of fireflies. The sun had set now, but thanks to the little creatures they could still see quite well.

They stopped abruptly when they heard the noise of swords clashing and monsters screaming. They were all on top of a small C or gulf shaped cliff, about 2 meters tall. On the ground below them were 3 green lizalfos, armored and with what looked like a huge arm guard, one with its spiked tail already cut off and black blood dripping from the open wound. The man the heroes were looking for was right there. Sky was fighting the monsters alone with his whip, beetle and bow.

The heroes, ready with their swords and bows, were ready to jump down and help. Wild had Fi with him and he of course wanted to give her to her master!

But Sky made eye contact with him for a brief second before dodging a tail attack, and be it because he had Fi in hand, or because of the fireflies, or because he had understood he and Sky were extremely similar in a way, Wild got the message. They had to stay there. He turned back and looked at the others.

“Everyone stop!”

The others looked at Wild extremely confused, but did as he said. Four asked why, Warriors stated he wasn’t going to leave a companion in danger alone.

“I wouldn’t either! But that’s what he wants and what he needs. If we jump there and kill even one of those infected monsters for him, he’d feel like we think he isn’t good enough. Instead he will defeat them all!”

Wild turned back at Sky and swung the Master Sword to make him notice it. Sky raised his right arm, after hitting one of the lizalfos with the whip, and Wild threw him the sword, which the chosen hero catched perfectly from the handle. He smiled, and nodded in gratitude. As he slashed the monster, Wild continued.

“I made him feel useless. That probably hurted him way more than we imagine. Like talking about my own failure, it still hurts even now, you’ve clearly seen it. He probably needs to prove himself, and me, he can do this, fighting without our help. I don’t want to steal him another opportunity to end an enemy for good”

The others agreed with Wild. Sky was perfectly capable of defeating 3 infected lizalfos on his own, and if that could make him feel better, if that could heal his pure soul, then it was the right thing to do.

The monsters screamed.

In few, fast and precise moves the lizalfos were all nothing but black smoke, blood, and a bunch of tails and horns. Wild was the first to jump down and immediately threw himself on Sky to hug him tight. It was finally time for him to give the hero his formal apologies, apologies Sky knew were the truest and most genuine he had ever heard. Of course he hugged Wild back and reassured him he felt better now, he had been so mad at himself for having failed again and those lizalfos were all he needed to release the anger. The others reached them shortly after, after letting the two heroes have a moment for themselves first.

They all hugged Sky and Wild or gave pats to their backs, and then promised to remember they were all valuable, worthy, and strong enough. Wild joined them promising that he’d be extra careful and try his best to not snap again, and Sky followed. He wouldn’t escape again. He would always try to remember he’s worthy, and in case he felt like the day before, he would discuss it with the others.

“Look, Hyrule said your body isn’t even at its best, and yet you managed to keep up with 3 empowered lizalfos without the master Sword! And those looked huge and armored!” Wind said.

They walked away, back to the village and the inn, chatting and smiling, with their lanterns all lit on, and a bunch of fireflies following them, attracted to the light.

Maybe the heroes could spend that night enjoying the peace of that village, the sound of water coming from the fountain, a warm dinner, and play their instruments, or maybe they could get the rest they all needed. Either way, they had to spend it carefree.

____________________________

The day after, as they were walking in that forest again in search of other footprints or monsters, Sky noticed a dark figure moving swiftly between the trees in the distance. Wind quickly took his telescope and saw Dink opening a portal. As the heroes rushed there, Wild stated that Sky, other than being the best swordsman ever, also had a sharp eye. They all smiled, someone laughed.

With positivity and optimism, they all got into the portal, ready to chase and fight Dink again.

[kureis-writing-hell]

The Virus Made Me Do This

I had a little prompt idea with my lovely @tristansarchive where I do his current fav ship and he writes my own (still looking forward to it babe). I had a lot of fun! I love Jerome with all my heart and I think I could do him better actually, but idk how to now. Next time :3

It's an au where someone makes a soulmate tracker, deadly virus and uses it to kill all baddies in Gotham. I'm pretty sure everything is explained well in the fic!

TW: a little, a tiny bit incestous ig. The characters are twins. It can be read whatever considering soulmates doesn't have to be romantic, but it's written with all the shippy intentions.

*

The urge to open the door was so heavy Jeremiah couldn’t stop shaking. Or was it really that? He could be just afraid. Yeah. Definitely it was fear and anticipation. Fear of what, though? Meeting Jerome after all those years? Facing the brother he selfishly threw under the hypothetical bus and left alone to bleed out under the care of their mother? The fear of seeing Jerome dying?

Maybe all at once?

Jeremiah shook his head. No. All he was scared of was Jerome. His brother and whatever was hidden behind this door. Jerome was a sick maniac and if Jeremiah allowed himself to think anything else, he would crumble himself, probably lose his mind and end up sharing the room with his twin. And Arkham wasn’t really Jeremiah’s style.

It wasn't Jeremiah's fault that the new Gotham virus had a DNA sort of targeting, and he shared his DNA with Jerome. Jerome, who was one of the biggest threats to Gotham. Jerome, who murdered so much people. Of course his brother would have crazy enemies. And of course the vigilante who made killing all baddies in the city their lifetime goal would target Jerome as well.

Suddenly, Jeremiah felt a pang in the area where his heart was. A painful ache. He grasped his chest, curling a little. There was immediately a hand on his back, Ecco trying to comfort him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing comforting circles into his shoulder blade. The ache began lessening enough for Jeremiah to straighten slowly and look at her.

"It's just a little pain. I'll be fine."

The worried look the woman sent him didn't help Jeremiah's own worries. The virus was deadly. There was no cure and the GCPD was trying to sweep the case under the rug because the virus targeted only criminals. And Jeremiah. Jeremiah and his damned, cursed DNA.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Ecco looked at him in that soft way she always did when Jerome came out between them. She knew a lot about both of the twins, thanks to Jeremiah. He had no secrets to hide from her, after all. She knew everything.

"I'll be fine." Jeremiah fixed his glasses nervously. "I have no choice. You heard the doctor. I have to be with him."

The virus was bizarre, but honestly, everything in Gotham was. It targeted people based on their DNA, so obvious someone had to be behind it all. It killed within a few days since the first symptom showed up - a heartache like pain. But it was getting weirder from there.

The virus worked as some sort of magical matchmaking as well. Besides the obvious deadly purpose, for some reason, it also pushed people to go find their soulmates. There weren't a lot of cases just yet but everyone, Jeremiah included, felt an urge to be very close to some people. Then the symptoms lessened and the time the patient had stretched to a week or so. It was still deadly, it just took more time to finish the victim.

Jeremiah still refuses to believe that. There had to be some sort of more logical explanation as to why he wanted to spend every single second of the rest of his life with his bonkers twin. Jerome wasn't his soulmate. He was the worst curse Jeremiah could be graced with.

"I'll go with you," Ecco finally sighed and reached for the door handle. Jeremiah grabbed her hand.

"No. No need. Just stay here. He's tied to the bed, he won't hurt me."

After a moment of contemplating that Ecco finally nodded and stepped aside.

Jeremiah swallowed, fixed his glasses again, bit his lip and finally opened the door.

The gap was small enough for Jeremiah to squeeze through. He closed the door softly behind himself, gathering all his nerves, looked up from the floor and met a pair of green, wide eyes.

Saying that Jerome was tied to the bed was understatement. He was basically the one with the bed, there were so many belts around his body. That brought some relief to Jeremiah. But then Jerome smiled.

Jeremiah knew about the scars, but didn't think they would look this macabre. Jerome had a permanent smile on his face, that looked even creepier when he smiled himself. Showing all of his teeth to Jeremiah.

"That's a shocker." Jerome let go a giggle and licked his dry lips. "And I thought I would have to blow up half of the city to get you out of your hole!" He laughed the same, weird way Jeremiah could remember from their childhood. The sound used to make him smile too, but now he only shivered.

Jeremiah noticed he's clinging to the door with his back. He slowly straightened, fixing his clothes, still shaking like a leaf. Jerome was watching him closely.

"Who would think all it took for us to meet again was a little cold. And look! We can be one again! Bonnie and Clyde! Jules and Vincent! Kill and Bill!"

The laughter filled the room again. Jeremiah opened his mouth, not sure what he wanted to say. It wasn't just a cold. They were never "one". Jerome you're delusional.

But Jerome was faster. He shut his mouth, looked at Jeremiah again and his eyes widened. He gasped.

"No! You got it too! You can feel it too! Of course you got it, I heard the whispers, it's related to DNA!"

The pure, glowing glee on Jerome's face made Jeremiah want to punch him. He didn't move from under the door, though. That, of course, gave Jerome a free space to continue.

“Hey, hey, did ya know? Some birdies sing that this shitty virus is a destiny tracker! It makes people want to die in the arms of their loved ones, or some bullshit like that. Isn’t it hilarious?”

“And cruel.”

Jeremiah barely opened his lips, barely even whispered, yet the words seemed to jump around the room like an echo. Jerome quieted down, watching Jeremiah with high lifted eyebrows. There was a smile, dancing on his chapped lips, but a different one than from a moment ago. Not a crazy, manic grin. A soft, amused smile. And it was even worse than before.

“Cruelty can be fun too.” If Jerome wasn’t tied to the bed he would shrug, with that infuriating smile still visible on his face. “Don’t you agree? Don’t tell me you’re not even a little amused right now, being oh so cruel to me.”

“I-I’m not-” Jeremiah’s words jumped a little, he stuttered pathetically and so shut his mouth down. He wasn’t amused. And it wasn’t him that was cruel right now, for sure.

“Oh please. You vanish for years and then show up out of nowhere, without even giving me a little kiss? That’s not how brothers should greet each other!”

It totally is - Jeremiah thought bitterly, and then marveled at Jerome’s expression once again. Give it to his unstable twin to throw something like that right in Jeremiah’s face, with the softest, gentlest expression ever made by a human being.

Then, suddenly, the expression was broken. Jerome grimaced, even whined a little, curling as much as he could on the bed. Jeremiah recalled his own pains, mainly his heartache, and without thinking jumped towards his brother. He grabbed Jerome’s shoulder, trying to will the other’s pain away. And, right then, when Jeremiah was ready to take his pain and bear it on his own, Jerome grinned.

“Oh, so you do care.”

In a second Jeremiah blushed, all the way from his forehead to his barely visible collar bones.

He stepped back, angrily taking his hands away from his twin. Jerome followed his movement with sparkly eyes, with that sunny smile stretched across his face. Jeremiah had to remind himself that they were both under the influence of the virus. And that it was Jerome he was dealing with.

The things he wanted to do, Jerome had to feel twice as hard. He was always the more intense of the two of them. 

“Can’t you be serious for once?!” Jeremiah stomped his leg, tightening his fists in frustration. Jerome giggled at the showoff.

“Why would I?”

“We may die!”

“So?”

Jerome’s question was so out of nowhere Jeremiah had to pause and get confused for a moment. He didn’t understand why his brother wasn’t at least a little concerned. He was crazy - that’s for sure - but did he also want them to die in agony?

Suddenly, Jeremiah gasped and clutched his chest again. He curled a little, feeling the jolt of pain across his chest, his heart. At the same time Jerome swore and gasped. It made Jeremiah look up, search for his twin, suffering as well right now. Their eyes met. Identical, green eyes. It didn’t matter that Jerome was covered with scars now. Jeremiah didn’t even find his look scary or grotesque now.

“Maybe it would be nicer if we hugged?”

Jerome was rasping but still sounded unusually soft. He had to notice it, because he grimaced slightly and wiggled his eyebrows, to add to his words a little, nasty context. Jeremiah wasn’t fooled though. He still didn’t come closer again, keeping his hand over his chest.

“I’m… not really allowed to do that.”

“Oh now you’re following rules?”

Well, he was right. And it wasn’t like anyone was there to witness his embarrassment. He still frowned at Jerome.

“You won’t try to run?” Maybe Jerome was tied to the bed, but Jeremiah knew him. His twin knew how to escape every situation.

“Please, I can barely stand right now. You probably do too, huh?”

He was right. The virus came with a general weakness of the body. And pains. Mostly joint pains but also muscle pains that were a living hell if Jeremiah moved too much. Honestly, he would kill for a nap right now. And, could be the virus or not, Jerome’s chest looked like a nice bed. For the first time since entering the room Jeremiah allowed himself to look Jerome over. He had to exercise. A lot.

Trying to hide the comeback of his blush Jeremiah crouched and began untying his shoes. He didn’t see how Jerome’s amused eyes glimmered with excitement. He knew they did, though. Of course. Jerome didn’t change even a tiny bit since they were kids, maybe minus losing the final screw. 

“This is only for a moment,” stated Jeremiah, rather trying to convince himself than point it out to Jerome. “I have to go home soon,” he lied. After all, the doctor told him that to keep them both from dying too early he had to stay in close proximity to his brother.

“Sure, broski.”

Jeremiah straightened and glared at his twin. Jerome was smiling cutely at him, obviously knowing he was being annoying and doing it on purpose.

“It’s only because of the virus.” Jeremiah lifted his chin a little, feeling a tiny wave of confidence. “Once it’s over I will vanish again and we will never see each other ever again.”

A look slipped through Jerome’s scarred face. For a moment Jeremiah let himself enjoy the hurt expression - oh so rare - that his twin allowed to slip. But then he felt guilt that always showed up when Jerome was as much as mentioned. He immediately lowered his head, suddenly unable to look into Jerome’s eyes again.

Jerome, of course, noticed.

“Then I hope we’re gonna die,” he rasped, cheerfully, making Jeremiah shiver.

Oh, he meant that.

Without adding anything more, worrying that he will back off if he procrastinated even a moment longer, Jeremiah slipped his shoes off. He grabbed an itchy blanket from a nearby chair - Arkham’s rooms were unbelievably cold, especially in the medical wing - and began climbing onto Jerome. As if they were kids again. As if no time ever passed.

But he paused. Right after putting his hand by Jerome’s side. Jeremiah blushed again, fixing his eyes on his hand. If he looked at Jerome right now he was sure he would just run out of the room. He could feel Jerome’s eyes on him, expectant but amused. It was so easy to imagine the look on his face for Jeremiah. And even easier to imagine Jerome’s laughter if he got up and ran. And then the guilt that would for sure come next.

So, Jeremiah gritted his teeth and slowly slipped into the bed, onto the hard mattress and Jerome’s chest.

It required a little wiggling. Jerome was tied, so he couldn’t move. Jeremiah had to find a position comfortable enough for him and his twin. His hand painfully landed on Jerome’s stomach, which Jeremiah quickly, and silently, apologized for, then he got stuck on all four, trapping Jerome under his body, making him giggle uncontrollably. It was a disaster, and for a very hot, embarrassed moment Jeremiah thought about chickening out again.

When he was about to shake his head and move away, Jerome lifted himself a little. It was too late when Jeremiah noticed that the belt on his stomach was tied too loose. Jerome’s tight hit Jeremiah’s, Jeremiah yelped, slipped on the mattress and fell onto Jerome’s body, hitting his face right onto his twin’s chest.

Jerome, of course, erupted in a loud laughter. Jeremiah fixed his glasses, glaring at his twin angrily. Without a word, deciding that it couldn’t get worse, he covered both of them with the blanket and hid his face in Jerome’s Akrham uniform.

“Arent’cha glad I got some friends around this place? They left a few holes here and there a bit loose, y’know?” Jerome kept laughing. Then choked, coughed and giggled again. “Maybe friends is too big of a word. Pawns? Sidekicks? Toys? What do ya think?”

“I think you’re sick,” Jeremiah murmured into Jerome’s chest, not sure if the words were aimed at his brother or at himself. Then he inhaled Jerome’s scent and realized it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“Duh! You too. We got a virus, don't you remember? Did my cute lil bro get dumber with age?”

“Probably.” Jeremiah closed his eyes. That nap was so close now. Sounded so nice. But then Jerome decided to start wiggling, waking Jeremiah up again. “What are you doing?”

“My back is itching as all hell.”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. Before relieving his twin, he took off his glasses and put them on a nearby table. He came back to his position, wrapped arms around Jerome and scratched his back a little.

“How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

He didn’t even try to point Jeremiah towards the itching spot. Only after a moment Jeremiah noticed what Jerome made him do. Hug him. The virus was affecting them both after all.

Jeremiah was drifting off again, snuggled to Jerome, when he heard his brother open his damned mouth again.

“Would be pre-tty awkward if I got a boner now huh.”

Deciding to ignore that Jeremiah let the sleep overtake him.

[rcsplendent]

for muses of your choice ! <3 🤡💋🥵⚖️💔✈️🦁🩰🚨😈🚫

answers under the cut bc i'm insufferable & added gifs to every single one. also i used a randomizer to pick who got each prompt so this was xtra chaotic !

🤡 ... a time where they felt guilt / embarrassment.

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐄𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐎𝐕 :  " guilt ? ... "  ( he's silent for a while, thinking. )   " i'm not sure. i — well. what i mean by that is there are too many to choose from. but, erm ... i suppose the first one that comes to mind is ... when i was a child, i used to pretend to be sick to get out of lessons. and, um. one day, i pretended to be ill so i would not have to do my mathematics lesson that day. but that meant my father was unoccupied for the morning, & so he made viktor do extra training. i ... think viktor must have trained for eighteen hours that day. and i wanted so badly to tell the truth so viktor could rest. but ... i knew the consequences for lying would be ... disastrous. so i never confessed. i think viktor collapsed from exhaustion. i felt awful. i still do. "

💋 ... their first ( or simply a very special ) kiss.

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐀 :  " it's a funny story, actually ! i was sixteen, maybe. i spent most of my time at sea, but i had stayed home one summer to help my father with a construction project. he was building an orphanage. and there was this girl, angelica — her mother was supposed to run the orphanage, so she was helping out, taking care of the kids while it was being built. but she kept feeding these damn cats all around the build site. it drove me insane — we were already behind schedule, and the cats were really throwing a wrench in things. so i confronted her, you know — told her to cut it out or find somewhere else to take the strays. she called me a selfish pendejo & got up in my face. we were bickering, you know, going back & forth, and suddenly she just ... grabbed my face & planted one on me ! i was so shocked i didn't even react. she ran off & i went on with my day, & she avoided me for the rest of the summer. we didn't talk about it until we were older — she doesn't know why she did it, either. she's got a wife & four beautiful kids, now. good friend of mine. "

🥵 ... a sexual experience.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐑 :  " i - i've never done anything like that. or, well ... "   ( he glances off to the side, thinking, before shaking his head quickly, his face bright red. )    " nevermind. that's all. "

⚖️ ... a time where they judged another person ( correctly or incorrectly ).

𝐘𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎 :  " the only time i ever make incorrect judgments is when i overestimate my opponents. i've got to stop doing that, honestly. i'm too kind. "

💔 ... a time where they experienced heartbreak.

𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐍 :  " oh, well ... there was this girl, last summer. we were exchanging letters back & forth. i was always so excited to read hers, & she always wrote back so quickly, so i thought we were ... i don't know, honestly, what i was thinking. she stopped replying after a few months, & then i found out she'd gone & gotten married. she'd been betrothed the whole time. "  ( he smiles, albeit a bit sadly. )   " not a big deal. "

✈️ ... a time where they traveled to a foreign place.

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐑 :  " well, after i got booted from boarding school — unjustly, might i add — i went to france for a bit to study. some little all-boys school down in nice. lovely city, right on the water. the people there were kinder than the fucking assholes i was at school with in england. i spent most of my nights sneaking out to go to the beach — don't tell rhysand i said that. "

🦁 ... a time where they felt truly proud of themselves.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐈 :  " i went out with a hunting party a couple of weeks ago & took down this absolute beast of a stag with one arrow. kept the hide, but i had my men deliver the rest to a butcher in a village nearby. had it been smaller i might've had it preserved, but with this one ... it would've been a waste of resources. & god knows i'm not hurting for food. it's only right. "

🩰 ... a hobby / passion.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐀 :  " well, i haven't got a lot of time for hobbies ... but when i do have a rare evening to myself, i quite like making things. leatherwork, metalsmithing, woodworking. sometimes, when i'm on patrol, i'll pick up a branch if i see one that looks like it's got something interesting going on under the bark. that's not always the case, but sometimes i get a real gem of a thing, sturdy & strong. i'll whittle them into walking sticks or staffs, or i'll cut it into pieces and use the wood for knife handles. i make the blades, too. the general before me insisted i learn how to make the weapons i use to be able to fully appreciate them. he was right — i've taught theo the same thing. i've got a few blades i'm quite proud of. i don't use them in battle. couldn't bear to lose them. "

🚨 ... a time they got in big trouble.

𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐍 :  " yeah, yeah. everybody always wants to know about the times i've gotten caught. hate to break it to you, but it's all confidential information & i am not legally allowed to share. "  ( he rolls his eyes. )  " it's always because some fucking snitch got caught & squeaked because they thought it'd make them go easy. it never fucking works. "

😈 ... a time where they did something devious.

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 :  ( he smiles coyly. )  " i am a god-fearing man who's never done anything devious in his life. have some faith in me. "

🚫 ... a time where they experienced rejection.

𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐐𝐀𝐉𝐀𝐑 :   " i cannot think of a single time anybody has ever dared to tell me no. except my wife, perhaps. "

[taruchinator]

🍸 Teen & Up Audiences

🍸 4.7k Words

🍸 Gift for the DekuBowl Secret Santa event!

Izuku walked closer to the front bar, which caused the brunette to raise his eyes and a smirk quickly forming on his lips. “Well, it's about time! I was starting to get worried that something happened to that pretty face.”

At this point, he was quite used to Rody's smooth talking. And even though some stuff still got his heart pounding, most of it he was able to brush off with a chuckle. “Hello to you too, Rody. I'm assuming you want the usual?”

With a wink, the young man leaned back against his chair. “You know me well, Zu.”

As Izuku chuckled and proceeded to prepare the drink, he could've never forseen what the man in front of him was going through, and how the grenette would be the one to save him.

Call me Santa, cause here I come in my sleight delivering SS event fics left and right! This time bringing you something for the BNHA DekuBowl Secret Santa~

This fic goes to Giulia, who gave me a very interesting prompt revolving around a pub, and with me being stuck in RodyDeku hell atm, I just couldn't pass this up 🤭

“Oh Izuku~ Your boyfriend is here again!”

As soon as those words left Sero Hanta's lips, Izuku Midoriya could only sigh in annoyance as he finished arranging the set of shot glasses back into the cupboard without even sparing his co-worker a glance. “He's not my boyfriend, Sero. You know that.”

“But you want him to be, don't you?” The raven-haired man walked further into the back as he bumped shoulders with Izuku, giving him a wink while doing so. “Didn't he ask you out last week?”

“He asked me if I was doing something after work. I told him I was studying for finals and he left it at that.” As much as he was trying to keep his voice as calm and collected as possible, Izuku couldn't help but feel some warmth creep into his face as he recalled the memory. 

He started working part-time as a bartender a few months ago, all thanks to a recommendation from his friend, Shinso. He needed the extra money to help pay for his college tuition fees now that his mother had finally agreed to retire, much to her dismay and Izuku's relief. As a single mother, she always took care of him, even as an adult— but now it was his turn to take care of her. 

The first few weeks were the trickiest— everything from getting along with his new co-workers Sero and Ochako to learning his way around the pub. Thankfully, he was eventually able to master most of the skills required and felt confident enough to be serving drinks left and right to customers of all kinds. 

Which was about the same time when Rody Soul came into the picture. 

About three months into Izuku's new job, a young man with chestnut-brown hair walked into the building one night, demanding a shot of tequila and refusing to make eye contact with Shinso, who was on duty at the time. When the shots kept coming and the customer didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon, his friend eventually had to tap out and let Izuku take the shift. 

He would never forget the first thing that scraggly, mucky, stupidly handsome man had said to him. 

“Damn. Did I really drink myself to death and go to heaven, or are you just one hot devil?” He'd said with a straight face, eventually melting into a smirk. 

It was the stupidest and most cheesy pick-up line Izuku had ever heard in his life, and yet it made his face flare up almost instantly. The rest of the night was no better, as the stranger— who later introduced himself as Rody— continued his flirtatious ministrations as he made small talk with the grenette until it was time to close. The freckled young man figured that the brunette was simply drunk, and as such, tried to shrug off the night's endeavors. 

But to everyone's surprise, Rody Soul came back the following week, requesting to be served by none other than Izuku Midoriya himself. 

Ever since, the brunette had become a regular, coming every week for a dose of his favorite liquor of choice accompanied by his self-proclaimed “favorite bartender”.

“Oh! Deku's boyfriend came back? I thought he only dropped by on Tuesdays.” A female voice quickly brought Izuku back to reality as he found Ochako joining the duo in the back, peeking from a curtain to look at the various customers sitting at the front bar. 

This time, Izuku's face did visibly heat up at the girl's matter-of-fact comment. “Ochako, he's not my boyfriend!”

Turning to look at her distressed friend, the girl scratched at the back of her neck as she raised her hand in an attempted apology. “Right, right, sorry! Can't blame me for the way he treats you, though! Besides, you like guys like that and he's not ugly or anything so I figured-”

“Please 'chako, you're killing me here…”

“Ahhh! Sorry!”

“Hey!” A fourth voice chimed in, causing everyone to freeze in their spot and Izuku to sigh in relief. 

Shinso stood at the back room entrance with arms crossed and stared at the trio with furrowed eyebrows. Sero immediately began placing glasses into the cabinets like Izuku had been previously, while Ochako headed for a clean tray and a few bottles of whiskey before heading out to serve at the tables again. 

Looking over to the grenette, Shinso sighed and then gave him a small smile as he nodded to the door. “Your number one customer is waiting.”

A pout formed on his lips. “Not you too…”

Walking past his chuckling friend, Izuku straightened the tie around his suit and took a deep breath before finally arriving at the front. 

It was Friday, yet for some reason the pub wasn't as lively as it usually was. That didn't mean it was empty by any means, since Izuku could clearly see Ochako walking among multiple tables to take orders and place drinks. The front bar was relatively full— three to four people maximum. And among them, was the fluffy chestnut colored hair that the grenette had grown so familiar with. 

Rody seemed to be scrolling aimlessly through his phone, a neutral expression gracing his features as he tapped his fingers against the wooden surface in an attempt to keep himself distracted. Izuku found the sight quite endearing. 

As soon as he walked closer, the brunette raised his eyes and a smirk quickly formed on his lips as he pocketed the phone without a second thought. “Well, it's about time! I was starting to get worried that something happened to that pretty face.”

Izuku couldn't help but roll his eyes with a smile. At this point, he was quite used to Rody's smooth talking. And even though some stuff still got his heart pounding, most of it he was able to brush off with a chuckle. “Hello to you too, Rody. I'm assuming you want the usual?”

With a wink, the young man leaned back against his chair. “You know me well, Zu.”

Chuckling softly, Izuku nodded as he reached for a glass and began preparing Rody's signature drink: Sex On The Beach. Something fitting for his character, no doubt. As he rummaged for the ice, he began their usual small talk. “You came twice this week! What's the special occasion?”

Rody could be heard chuckling as his hands were placed on the wooden surface once more. “Looks like someone's keeping track of my visits. I'm quite flattered~ Unfortunately, it's nothing too exciting. My younger siblings are on a playdate with some friends so I'm free of babysitting duty today.”

Izuku began pouring the vodka and preparing the cranberry juice as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Oh right, you did say you had siblings. Roro and… Lulu? I didn't know you took care of them!”

After finishing the drink with a tiny umbrella, the grenette passed it over to the brunette who accepted it gratefully. “Haha, it's actually Roro and ‘Lala’, but you almost had it! And yeah, you know how it is when parents have their hands full. They like giving the eldest some extra responsibility, especially to make sure the young ones turn out okay…”

The way Rody's eyes darted to his drink while saying that made something stir inside of Izuku. He had never seen the brunette wear that expression before. It seemed like his family was quite important to him, which was actually something he could relate to. “I get that… It's… only been my mom and I for as long as I can remember. She took care of me all the way to college, and even then she wanted to keep helping me! I didn't let her, though.”

Rody's gaze rose from its position on the glass to look at the young man in front of him. “So that's why you're working at a dump like this…” 

As the grenette's eyes widened, Rody caught on to what he'd said and immediately waved his hands as a blush decorated his cheeks. It was… a cute display. “I-I didn't mean that in a bad way! I just always wondered what a guy like you was doing in a place like this when you're clearly real smart and stuff, but if it's for your mom…”

Izuku tried to spare the other of any further embarrassment as he trailed off, quickly filling in the momentary silence. “Yeah! I mean, my mom is retired now, and someone's gotta pay the bills. Plus this place isn't really that bad, actually.”

After hearing that, the brunette seemed to quickly regain his footing as best as he could, showing the other man a grin that could rival the sun itself. “Well… I for one am grateful, since thanks to that I got to meet you.”

It was Izuku's turn to have his cheeks lit aflame at the nonchalant comment. No matter how many guys he met on the job everyday, there was always something about Rody Soul that made him want to come back for more. “W-Well, I-”

“Deku! I need some more vodka, please!”

Both men were startled and brought back to their senses as Ochako appeared out of nowhere, holding an empty tray with a pleading look in her eyes as she leaned against the counter. Izuku tried to act normally as he rummaged through the cabinets and handed his co-worker the desired bottles, but the moment was definitely ruined. 

“Deku?” Rody questioned with his usual snarky attitude back in full swing. 

Izuku blushed once more as he turned to look at the shot glasses he'd have to wash later. “It's a nickname. Ochako came up with it, but it's honestly not something I get called outside of work.”

“Well I think it's rather cute. It suits you.” A buzz suddenly came from Rody's pants, which caused him to reach for his phone and check. He widened his eyes slightly, and quickly leaned forward and took a hold of one of the foam cups Izuku had on display for drinks to-go. He poured his untouched drink inside and began rummaging through his wallet. 

Placing the money on the counter, Rody stood from his chair and winked at the freckled bartender as usual. “I'd love to stay longer, but I think now is a good time to go pick up those little rascals. Same time next week?”

Izuku couldn't help but gulp as he nodded and smiled shyly. His throat felt like he hadn't had a drop of water in days. “Y-Yeah! Come back anytime!”

Before taking his leave, Rody's expression softened once more with a small smile. “Hope everything went well with your tests last week.” Without waiting for a response, the young man walked out the door, leaving a flustered bartender behind. 

“He remembered that?” Izuku couldn't stop the warm fuzzy feeling spreading on his chest full force, and he had to do everything in his power to try and not let it show as more customers began asking for their refills. 

Oh, that guy was going to be the death of him someday. 

“See you tomorrow, Deku!”

“See you! Stay safe!”

Ochako was the last one to leave the building once they set the ‘Closed!’ sign outside the front door. As per usual protocol, she waited with Izuku until he gathered his belongings and only left until he was ready to turn off the lights and close up shop. As he finally grabbed his duffel bag, the freckled young man went to grab the locks for the door as he'd done many times before.  

The neighborhood around the bar wasn't necessarily the safest, but there were definitely worse places to be at in the middle of the night, so Izuku never felt intimidated when it was his turn to close. Once he stepped foot outside, the stillness of midnight was rather soothing as all that could be heard was the clicking of the locks as they were snapped shut. 

Or at least that's how it should've been, until the grenette was startled by a sudden crash. He instinctively turned towards the sound— it came from an alley on his right. 

Around these parts, robbery and assaults weren't necessarily common, which was why the noises were quite alarming for the boy to hear. His first thoughts immediately went to Ochako, as she had left not so long ago and he couldn't recall if she had someone picking her up that night. 

Swiftly yet quietly, the grenette ran into the alley and hid behind one of the dumpster containers as soon as he heard the crashing again, this time clearly the sound of someone being smashed against a wall. 

As Izuku dared to peek around the corner, his body froze instantly. 

It wasn't Ochako. 

It was Rody.

The unmistakable chestnut hair that was usually tied in a ponytail was now disheveled, loose and wild as the rest of his clothing, and was that blood on his shirt? His expression was the worst part— eyes wide as saucers as he held onto the hand that had him pinned by the neck since he was most likely being refrained from getting any oxygen. 

The hand in question belonged to a tall buff man, appearing to be in his late 30's. Everything about him sent red flags, and Izuku's fear was confirmed as soon as the stranger spoke. “I'm gonna ask you again, Soul. Where's the money?”

Rody shifted around the man's loosened grip, giving him a nervous grin. It was only then that Izuku noticed the blood dripping from his forehead. “I-I already told you. I have it in my apartment! If you just let me get there, I'll bring it back to the place we agreed on!”

The buff man scoffed in annoyance. “You really think I'm that stupid? I'm not letting your weasel ass go anywhere without showing me something. The boss is tired of waiting, and you know what he's like when he gets angry…”

“I totally get it, I've kept him waiting, I know! If you want, there's some cash in my wallet. Back pocket. You can have it as my fee for being late.” Rody spoke rapidly as he turned his gaze downwards toward his pants. 

Izuku kept his grip steady on the dumpster as he contemplated what to do. Should he call the police? Would they even make it in time? He didn't even know what was going to happen! 

The stranger did as Rody said, and felt up for the cheap leather wallet in the brunette's back pocket. As he opened it and counted the inside, his face twisted in anger once more. That wasn't good. “You think this is a fucking joke? This doesn't even cover your interest rate!”

As the wallet was thrown to the ground with the few bills inside flying away, the grip on the young man was tightened yet again. “I don't think I'm making myself clear enough. If you don't give me what I want, I'll have to go to the boss. If I have to go to the boss, then he'll find a way to make you pay. You have little ones at home, dont'cha? I'm sure they would fit nicely with the other rejects in his penthouse…”

The moment he said those words, Rody's eyes went dark as he placed both hands against the man's arm and twisted as hard as he could, making him cry in pain and release him. The brunette could barely stand— legs wobbling like jelly and balance completely thrown off— but his gaze was unwavering as he growled. “If you lay a finger on them, I'll fucking kill you...”

A moment of silence passed, until the tall man started laughing as he massaged his assaulted arm slightly. “You've got guts kid, I'll give you that! Maybe that's why the boss has been so lenient with you.”

After that however, his body moved quickly as he landed a punch against the young man's stomach, knocking him down into the ground with more blood dripping from his lips as he coughed. Izuku griped against the fabric of his shirt and clenched his teeth at the sight. 

Picking Rody up from the collar of his shirt like a ragdoll, the man smirked up at him. “It's a real shame I'm making sure to get those brats myself! And trust me that I'll be taking my sweet time. Who knows? Might even have a little fun while I'm at it.”

Something in Izuku snapped. His legs moved on his own as he left the safety of his hiding spot and made himself visible while approaching the two individuals. “Hey!”

Both men were startled by the sudden new voice. Rody's eyes widened slightly as he let out a small gasp, while the buff man only raised an eyebrow in annoyance. “Well what do we have here? More rats in this neighborhood than I thought. Beat it, kid! We're in the middle of some business here!”

Izuku didn't back off, but instead came closer and held an unwavering gaze. “Let him go.”

“D-Deku… D-Don't…” Rody's voice came out raspy has he silently pleaded for the grenette to back off, but the other man was already intrigued. 

“Oh, I'm sorry! Is he a friend of yours? Well in that case, you probably know about all the stuff this little street rat has done to me and my employer. Just setting the record straight, so I'd advise you to keep moving while I'm still feeling nice…” The man's grip tightened around Rody's neck, which caused Izuku to act on his own again. 

Walking backwards, he swiftly used his momentum to land a punch between the taller man's collar bone and ribs, effectively knocking the wind out of him and making him release Rody on the spot. “I don't know and frankly do not care what he did or why you're doing this. All I know is that you're assaulting a beaten up man and threatening to kidnap children. So if anyone should back off, it's you before I call the police.” 

Breathing heavily, the man looked up and huffed out with anger returning full force. “You little shit!”

As he ran towards the young man, Izuku was ready for him. He ducked as a punch headed his way, causing the man to lose footing and giving the grenette a small window of opportunity to run behind and sweep under his legs. The man didn't fall, but instead turned and threw another jab which landed on Izuku's shoulder, causing the freckled boy to grunt slightly. 

Feeling confident from landing a blow, he tried grabbing at his neck, but Izuku was sharper as he stopped the palm with both hands and immediately kicked him in his lower abdomen, causing the man to cry out in pain and hold onto his unborn children. 

Using as much strength as he could muster, the grenette threw himself against the man's face using his elbow as a weapon against the guy's nose, effectively causing him to crash against one of the dumpsters causing it to fall forward and knock the wind out of him again. 

As soon as the guy's head hit the sharp metal, his whole body fell limp and unmoving to the floor. He was unconscious. 

Silence settled into the darkness once more with only Izuku's heavy breathing resounding against the cool chilly air. 

Turning to his right, Rody was staring wide eyed, more blood dripping onto his shirt, causing the bartender to snap back into reality and run towards him. “Rody! Are you okay?!”

“Y-Yeah…” The brunette's gaze remained on the freckled man as he ran towards him and held onto him for dear life, examining all of his wounds carefully. “I… You… You shouldn't-”

“It's alright. You're alright now. Let's get you patched up. We don't know when that guy's gonna get up again.” Izuku dismissed him immediately and began holding his torso to try and get him to a standing position. 

He pretended not to see the way Rody's eyes were building up with tears as they made their way to the bar. 

“Ouch!”

“It'll be quicker if you hold still…”

Izuku quickly opened up the bar again and went for the first aid kit as soon as he left the young man to rest in one of their lounge sofas in the employee's back room. 

He'd managed to stop the bleeding on his forehead, which was thankfully only caused by some scratches and bruising. The rest of his body was now being washed in all the antiseptic alcohol the grenette could find, as he tried to make sure none of the wounds would get infected. 

They'd been silent for the most part—only talking when Izuku asked for Rody to move a certain way to clean him up better— and the bartender would've thought they'd stay that way all night until the brunette finally spoke. “Why aren't you asking me anything?”

“It's none of my business. It would be rude to ask.” Izuku tried to keep his voice at a normal level. He hadn't lied back in the alley. He could care less about whatever Rody might be involved in, since he knew deep down that he was a good person and most likely had his own reasons. 

“If it wasn't your business, you wouldn't have stepped in.” Rody retorted dryly. 

“I couldn't just leave an innocent person to get beat up like that!” Izuku replied as he went to grab another cotton swab since the one he was using was now all bloodied up. 

“‘Innocent’, huh? Well, I'm kinda glad you still see me like that…” The brunette kept his voice above a whisper, and Izuku could only frown in disapproval. 

“Rody. Whatever you're involved in, I'm sure-”

“I lied!”

The sudden shout caught the grenette off-guard, which Rody noticed, causing him to lower his head in a silent apology. “I lied. Partially. Roro and Lala are at a sleepover with a friend. I asked if they could stay there tonight because I got a text from that guy outside, asking for his money. I knew he'd come for me, so I didn't want him following me home…”

Now the pieces were starting to line up. That was probably why Rody had decided to come to the bar that night. As a way to lure the man to a different location away from his siblings without putting them in harm's way. Izuku stopped cleaning the wounds to look at the man. “You did it for a good reason. If it weren't for that, they might have been caught in some real trouble…”

Rody scoffed as he turned to face his savior. “If I hadn't done anything stupid, I wouldn't have to be worrying over them like this! I borrowed money from dangerous peeps by getting on their boss' good side, but with the little money I make back, it ends up being more than I can give back…”

“Loan sharks?” Izuku questioned curiously. 

Rody nodded. “I never meant for it to happen. But I had to find a way to bring food to the table for them and I…I just couldn't do it alone. Not all of us were blessed with supporting parents. Some just leave you to fend for yourself, and it sucks.”

Izuku looked down at his hands and contemplated the information given to him. He knew how it felt to have one parent abandon him, but never both. That was something he could never imagine happening to him, yet it was Rody's reality as he had to take care of both himself and his younger siblings. 

And that immediately made it clear to Izuku that the brunette had done nothing wrong. 

“You're trying your best, Rody. Sometimes our best isn't enough, and we do things we aren't proud of. But I can guarantee that Roro and Lala would still see you as their hero, even if you told them what you did. Because you're the one who's kept them going all this time…” The grenette replied almost automatically as he knew everything in that statement was true. 

Rody stared wide eyed for a moment, but quickly turned elsewhere as pink dusted his cheeks. “Y-Yeah well, thanks I guess. Not like I would ever tell them, though. They'd try and fight the guy off themselves with nothing but their bare hands, hehe…” The brunette chuckled softly, causing Izuku to smile too. 

“You know... I know it's not much, but… I could talk to my friend and recommend you for a job here. I think we're in need of another waiter. Poor Ochako has to do it all by herself and sometimes she can get a little mixed up with the orders.” Izuku chuckled as he recalled some instances where some angry customers would complain about their drinks getting mixed up and a flustered Ochako in the middle. 

“You'd do that?” Rody looked perplexed by the offer, to which the bartender merely looked sideways as he replied. “Don't get me wrong, the pay isn't great. But it's a start… right?”

Rody stayed silent for a moment, but quickly smirked as he tried leaning against the chair he was in like he normally would. “I'll consider it. Although if I'm gonna be working with you, I'm not sure if I could concentrate.”

Izuku rolled his eyes as he went back to cleaning up the young man's wounds. “Good to have you back, Rody Soul.”

“Speaking of which, when did you learn to fight like a freaking ninja?! What even was all of that?” Rody tried to keep the momentum going as he brought up the fight from earlier. 

The grenette sighed as he brought out some gauze to wrap around the brunette's torso. “I got beat up a lot when I was a kid. So, I ended up getting some self-defense lessons during high school. I'm glad they finally paid off.” 

“Well, it was ridiculously sexy, I'll tell you that.” Rody wiggled his eyebrows while grunting from the occasional jab of pain. 

“Hahaha! Come on Rody, you don't have to keep the act even while you're bleeding out in my co-worker's break room.” Izuku said nonchalantly. 

This however, brought some confusion to the brunette's eyes. “What act?”

Izuku's eyes widened slightly, but he returned to his ministrations trying not to let it show. “You flirting with me. Don't you get tired of it?”

Now it was Rody's turn to avert his gaze as he started shifting in his seat, squirming slightly under the other boy's eyes. “Yeah um… I'm pretty sure I come off as just a playboy to you, huh? Also why would a smartl guy like you go out with someone like me? Pretty dumb if you ask me.”

“What? Wait, I never said that. If anything, why would you wanna go out with someone like me?” Izuku finished the wrapping and stared at Rody with incredulous eyes. 

Rody blinked once. “Because you're cute, funny and easy to talk to? What's your excuse?” 

Izuku blinked twice. “Because you're hot, funny and a nice guy?”

One second. 

Then two. 

Finally three went by before the duo's face flared up and leaned close to each other. 

“You're saying you'd go out with me?!”

“You're saying you'd go out with me?!”

As the question left their lips, another blush crept across their cheeks, quickly followed by bursts of laughter. 

With a soft smile, Rody wiped the tears from his eyes as the chuckle died down. “To know all I had to do was ask. Today was supposed to be the worst day of my life and I somehow ended up with a new job and boyfriend all at once.”

Izuku returned the smile, until the realization hit him. “So, we're dating?”

Rody merely smirked in response. “Only one way to find out.”

They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like ages, slowly inching forward until their fingers interlocked, quickly followed by their lips. 

As the kiss deepened, all Izuku could think about was how he was going to explain to everyone the next day that he now had both a new employee and a new boyfriend all in the same person. 

Well, that was something future Izuku could worry about. 

Present Izuku had his hands quite full already. 

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[sagehqs]

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Leaning her head softly against his shoulder, Sage had no choice in the smile on her face. All thanks to Owen, it seemed the smile was a new, permanent feature on their face. Even when she wasn’t around him, all she had to do was get her thoughts remotely in his direction and that smile crept up. Being with him in the same room? That damn smile never left their face, only unless to flare dramatics as they so often tended to do with him around. Something about him, perhaps everything about him, lit their entire being up. Thoughts of him lingered and danced in the back of their mind, with or without being prompted – but Sage didn’t mind one bit. In fact, his presence in their mind was beyond welcome. This had been the happiest they’d been in a hot minute, so anything to keep that feeling was well received.

If they could have taken back the whole moment of pulling their hand back, they would have – his little sound of protest sending a pang through their chest. “Have I told you how much I like the way you think?” Overly fond of the statement, they couldn’t do a single thing to prevent the admiration that took over their features. Having leaned fully into their feelings for Owen, they were completely helpless under his entire existence. He was brilliant, which paired insanely well with how passionate and considerate he was. Those three features alone would have swept Sage off their feet, but those were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to him. So far his worst trait was not being able to cook, and within an evening they found a solid compromise to that. He, in their opinion, was damn near perfect – and they relished in that completely. For once in their life, they weren’t on the hunt for red flags, they were completely happy with the green ones, and the abundance of them.

With a grin, her hands pulled up, over her heart for a moment, batting her lashes at him before signing, “My hero.” However, she did raise a finger in an addendum. “Can you fight them without killing them? While they might not realize how dangerous to me they are – they’re still endangered and deserve to be protected.” They had to add that, having a small side passion for different variations of pollinators. As he pulled back to the thought of cooking together, they beamed and nodded along enthusiastically “No, exactly! It’s so much to do, especially when you do it alone. Like… prepping and cooking is a lot, then you have all the dishes. It’s a very stressful time. But this?” With a small scoff, they shook their head. “This has been easy and so much fun. I’d absolutely love to cook with you again.” Pursing her lips, she giggled as she added, “Well, pending the results of the cornbread.” With a wink, they did their best to keep a straight face.

Welcoming the kiss, they giggled quietly, utterly thankful that this was the result of spilling feelings. They truly couldn’t have handled it had their situation gone in a different direction, so they were going to cling to each moment that they possibly could. At the invitation to come over in just a few days, Sage nodded and bit at their lip softly. “I’d absolutely love to. Oh, yes please – I’d love to see your place.” With an excited scream, she tapped his arm excitedly, “I’ll get to meet Lady. Oh my god. I know you make it out to be easy to get her love, but I really hope I don’t fuck it up with her.” Laughing at the idea, she shook her head and took a deep breath. “That’ll be so much fun. I’m looking forward to it.” They were, that was very clear; any chance to see him and explore his world was an opportunity that they were going to take.

Kisses on their forehead would forever and always be their favorite, so having them in passing caused her heart to flutter and cheeks to heat. As she carefully worked on the crust, occasionally catching Owen’s glances and returning the goofy face and eyebrow wiggles as they did. Dusting her hands against her apron, she moved to rest against the counter, laughing loudly as she watched Owen do his little dance over. Watching his hands, she shook her head dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Don’t go blaming me for that – everything you’ve done you’ve been able to do this whole time. I would, though, always be willing to help you cook, though. Like I said, this has been a blast and I would gladly do it again.” Whatever chance they got, whatever opportunity to see him they could have, they were going to take advantage of.

“A self-portrait?” Literally cackling at their own lack of artistic ability, they quickly shook their head. “It would be a stick figure and it would still probably turn out really, really badly. I can do random shapes at best, anything more than that is going to look pitiful.” Shrugging just a little, they carried on, “I actually need to watch more baking shows – I’ve been slacking. I’ve been watching dumb cartoons recently.” At the question of the pie filling mix, Sage raised their brows and gave a small shrug, “Going to be honest, we’ll have to check Google on that one. This might be my first time making a pie since I was a teen.” They admitted, quickly pulling out their phone and checking for a good recipe. After a few moments of searching, they looked back up, giving a grin. “Good thing you asked, apparently it’s sugar, it all gets heated before baked, and we need corn starch to thicken up the filling.” With a little sigh, they moved to get a new pot for the filling and moved it over to the counter for Owen to fill. “I truly expected the pie to be easy – but apparently there’s a little more to piemaking than I figured.”

A soft and fond smile made its way onto his lips as he watched Sages hands. "I'll look into more accessible options. Promise." He replied, a gentle look still staying on his face. Having people care was still such a strange thing to him, even after all these years of being in a family. There was some scars that remained from his time in foster care, and having those in his life that truly cared about him, what happened to him, was one of those. Something he struggled to wrap his mind around from time to time. He didn't have that in those years he spent bouncing from home to home for a few years. But if him having more accessibility in his place gave Sage a peace of mind, Owen saw no harm in doing so. And really, it was probably something he needed for himself after all. Making a mental note to get searching for things tonight or tomorrow.

Owen watched as Sage placed the pan into the oven, his eyes roaming over the food that was currently everywhere. The fact they had managed to make all of this, well, Sage more so than him, was pretty impressive. And he was even more excited to sit down with them and have a nice meal, to taste what they had been working on for the last hour or so now. And he knew that moments like these were indeed what he wanted more of. He didn't need crazy nights out or going to bars. Maybe it was because he was getting older but the simple little things like this meant more to him than anything else. This is what he cherished and what he hoped him and Sage could have more time of.

There was no stopping the small sound of protest as Sage took her hand back so they could sign once more. The smile easily settling back onto his features, nodding along as he kept his eyes on their hands. "Exactly- I think they would go so well together. And it's something different, not just your every day apple pie." Laughing some as he watched Sage moved towards the fridge but kept their eyes on him. A move he knew all too well, he was constantly doing that, especially around Sage. Though weeks ago he had told himself it was simply because he didn't want to miss anything that was being said. But now, Owen knew the reality of it, for him at least, all those weeks ago had simply been because he didn't want to take his eyes off of them,

The kisses against his cheeks made Owen beam. Every kiss sent his heart soaring in the best way possible. And he found himself craving a constant stream of kisses and touches, any kind of contact that he could get from Sage. "Noted. I'll fight off the bees for you." Though mentally made a note to keep epipens for both of them in his backpack, where he also kept his overly filled first aid kit at all times too. The nurse in him just couldn't escape. As he brought his hands up, Owen backtracked the smallest bit. "But really- I never thought I could have fun cooking. It always stresses me out-" He made a slight face at the admittance. "But this has been so fun, the best time I've ever had cooking, and I swear, I could do this every day with you." Another hint of red across his cheeks though he closed the small space between them now and placed a kiss to the corner of Sage's mouth. "I have an overnight shift tomorrow but the following day- If you want to, I mean- We should do brunch. I can offer up my place to make a mess in." He grinned, also wanting her to finally get the chance to meet Lady as well. That and after having been in their place, Owen wanted to show them his as well. Wanted her to pick out a favorite spot on the couch or in a chair, a place that they could claim as their own. There was just something so deep and personal about being in each other's places and having them become like their own.

"On it." He beamed, placing a quick kiss to their forehead before he moved, grabbing the berries, and moving over to the sink. The more time he spent cooking with Sage, the more confident he was feeling, like he wouldn't make a total mess of things. And he was feeling more at ease moving around their place as well- which was such a welcoming feeling for him. As he worked on washing the berries, Owen looked up and over at Sage, wiggling his eyebrows some at them, laughing as he did so. Trying to remember when he had least felt so at ease, when the last time he was truly himself around someone that wasn't Sage. With the berries washed, Owen brought them back over to the counter, wiggling his hips as he walked over, wiping his hands on the apron that he was still wearing. "I'm going to get an ego from cooking with you, I can feel it now. I peel potatoes and wash berries one time and suddenly here I am thinking that hey, cooking isn't bad- maybe I could do this." Though he had a feeling that most of it was because he had Sage around as well. That it probably wouldn't go this well if he was cooking on his own.

Reaching for the can opener, he set to opening the fillings for Sage, and setting them off to the side once he was done. Crossing the small space between them, he watched as she cut the pie crust. "Is this where you get all fancy and make like-" He waved a hand as he searched for what he wanted to say. "A self portrait or something on top of it? Because let me tell you, I've watched enough of the British Baking Show to clearly know that's what supposed to go on top of it." Owen teased with a crunch of his nose and laugh before he nodded towards the berries and fillings. "Do I need to mix that all up and add sugar-" Having a very vague memory of something along those lines when it came to pie mix. "Before I put it into the crust?" Wanting to double check before he went ahead and just dumped it all in there and made a mess of it, especially when things had been going so well in the cooking department on his end.

[harringtonstilinski]

That’s A Bet - Steve Harrington (Smut)

Author: @stilinskiparker Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 5,418 Warnings: fluff, confessions, language (have ya met me), ending is rushed ‘cause it’s 11:16pm and i’m tired. Tropes/AU’s: Best Friends to Lovers | Fake Dating | Soulmate AU | if you can think of any more, let me know! Smut: no | yes; couch sex, m+f (wrap before you tap), oral (f receiving) Requested: Nope. Based off a prompt based off this list A/N: Hi, friends! If you’re under the age of 18, pls do not read. This bitch took me, no joke, like 5.5 hours to write. BUT, I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Working at Family Video wasn’t my first choice. I was coerced into getting this job by my best friends and little brother. How my little brother, you ask? Well, he and Steve Harrington started hanging out two years ago when Dart went missing.

Steve and I had been friends for years before we both met Robin Buckley, when they both worked at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the Mind Flayer tried to kill us all.

I worked at the mall last summer, as well. I worked at The Great Cookie. I could see a little bit of Scoops when I looked across the lower level of the mall. And, yes. It was as amazing to work there as one would imagine. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would fill my nostrils every day, and it was amazing! Of course, on my lunch break, I would run over to Scoops to steal a waffle cone before eating my actual lunch from either New York Pizza, Hawkin’s Heroes, Burger King or Imperial Panda.

But, like I said, the Mind Flayer decided to try and kill us all, so it basically destroyed our place of work, so we had to find a new place… or places.

Like I said before, I was coerced into getting this job at Family Video, and working with Steve and Robin was a blast! Their banter made me laugh every single day we worked together, and getting to hang out with them was a plus.

What was negative for me, though, was watching Steve flirt with most of the girls that came in the store. Hearing him set up dates and him telling us about them the next day was heartbreaking to me. Also hearing about the sex he’d had with them was a shot in the foot with a Nerf gun.

So, here I was, leaning against the back of the counter at the front of the store, quietly groaning after Steve had told us about another one of his dates that ended in sex at Lover’s Lake before he’d walked out to his car to retrieve a movie he’d ‘rented’ from the store.

“You okay over there?” Robin asked.

I shook my head before sighing deeply. “Robin, I’m so sex deprived, I would take you to the back room if I was into girls.”

She chuckled, putting her hand on my back. “That’s okay. No offense, but you’re not really my type.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” I groaned, turning my head to look at her. “I swear, I’m gonna fuck the next person that walks through that door.”

Feeling her hand slide off my back and seeing her stand up straight, Robin held her hand out, smirk on her face. “You’re on.”

I stood up straight, putting my hand in hers, shaking it. “Damn straight. Now, to wait for my sex partner.”

The bell ringing above the door caused Robin and I to turn our heads in that direction. “Do you think I’ll be in trouble for not returning these on time when I was supposed to?”

Slouching a little, I scrunched my mouth to the side as Robin started laughing. She patted me on the shoulder before she said, “I definitely have to hear about this one.”

I looked at her with a look that held annoyance. “Ya’know what. Go. Go put returns back.” I turned her and lightly pushed her to go do her job. Turning back to where Steve was standing, I tilted my head in confusion before turning around at the sound of the keyboard clacking.

“Nope, that’s my job today,” I said, walking towards him. “Let me check these back in.” I went to take the tapes from him, my fingers brushing over his. My breath hitched in my throat as the bell rang again above the door.

Looking to see who the culprit was, I noticed it was just a customer. Rage filled me at the sight of the beautiful girl. I tried not to roll my eyes as she walked to her right as I turned back to face Steve. “You got a customer anyway.”

After successfully taking the tapes out of his hands and sitting down at the computer, he heard him lightly scoff.

“Y/N/N, wha–” he started.

“Go!” I breathed, closing my eyes.

After hearing him walk away and ask if there was anything he could help the girl look for, I opened my eyes, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it away before looking at the tapes he’d brought back in, confused as to why he’d chosen these movies; The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Rocky IV, Sixteen Candles, Back to the Future.

I smiled a little and shook my head, typing in Steve’s information and then the title name in the computer, as I did with the other four before getting up and putting them away myself.

“So, how’s Friday night sound?” Steve asked. 

I watched as he went around the counter to the computer, typing in the girl's information so that he could mark the movie as rented. Knowing he wasn’t talking to me, I put my attention back on the movies in my hand, the last one to be put back on the shelf being Back to the Future.

I went to turn around, but the smell of his cologne hit my senses. I tried to take in a quiet breath, but the sound of his voice alerted me that I, in fact, did not.

“We still on for movie night?”

With furrowed brows, I turned to face Steve. “You promised that last customer a date for Friday night.”

Chuckling, he hung his head for a moment before looking back up at me, amusement laced in his eyes. “She said she had a girlfriend.”

With my eyebrows meeting my hairline, my mouth dropped open in shock. “W-well, then. I guess we’re still on.”

With a smile ever present on his face, he said, “Awesome. I’ll ‘rent’ The Breakfast Club again and be at your house around 8?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Sounds good.”

Feeling a set of eyes on me as he walked away, I looked over Robin, seeing her mouth the words his house, his house.

“A-actually, Steve?” I walked over to him behind the counter, my fingers laced at my stomach. “Can we do movie night at yours instead? I really don’t wanna hear Dustin asking me if I can take him somewhere or hearing him on his little radio thing talking to Suzie.”

Steve smiled, nodding. “Yeah, that’s actually perfect.”

“Awesome.”

~~~

Wednesday and Thursdays shifts went by extremely slow, whereas Friday’s shift went by sort of fast. I mean, it started out slow, but since it was Friday, everyone was coming to Family Video to rent the latest movies or to rent their most favorite movies of all time.

When my shift was over, I went straight home to shower, shave and change. I tried not to get too dressed up since it was just movie night at Steve’s house, but I put a little bit of makeup on, slightly dressing up my outfit, which consisted of a pair of jeans, Converse and graphic tee.

I packed a bag of clothes for the next day just in case I decided to stay the night. I did that almost all the time when we did movie nights at his house. I would leave the bag in my car just in case things went awry. 

I was nervous about movie night, and understandably why. I was going to try and have sex with my best friend, who I’ve had a crush on for years! It escalated after seeing how he interacted with Dustin during the Dart fiasco. 

Taking a deep breath, I spritzed myself with some perfume I knew Steve liked, grabbed my bag and walked out of my room. I was reaching for my keys when I heard a knock on the door. Confused, I walked to it, looking out of the peephole and saw Steve on the other side.

What he had in his hand confused the shit out of me, so I opened the door, the same confused look on my face revealed to him, making him chuckle.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve asked.

“For one, you’re picking me up, and two–” I looked down at his hand. “You have flowers.”

“Those better be for my mother!” Dustin yelled from the kitchen.

“Dustin!”

Steve laughed, ducking his head for a moment before looking back up at me. “They’re, uhh, they’re for you.” Handing me the flowers, he smiled. “And, I thought picking you up would be a better choice since I drive by here anyway to get home.”

Feeling a presence beside me, I heard Dustin say, “No, you don’t. You live on the other side of town.”

“Did you just get off work, or something?” I asked.

Putting his hands up, Steve exclaimed, “Alright, alright!” He sighed, putting his hands down. “I just felt like picking you up for movie night. You always fall asleep during the movie, so I figured that you’d just stay the night.”

“Wait,” Dustin said. “You’re having movie night without me?”

I looked at him, seeing a little bit of hurt in his eyes. “Dusty, it’s nothing against you, I promise. It’s just that– Steve and I haven’t had a movie night to ourselves in a really long time.” I put my hand on his shoulder, leading him to the hallway. “And I have a bet with Robin. Can’t tell you about it, but I have a bet with her.”

“About Steve?”

“Yes,” I nodded, once. “About Steve.”

Dustin smiled. “Well, alright then.”

We walked back to the door, seeing a very confused Steve looking at us. “Everything… okay?”

“Yup, perfect. Now, go. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I hugged my little brother, thanking him for letting me have a night alone with Steve. After I pulled away, I grabbed my eyes and shoved them into my bag while walking down the small steps to our door and down the driveway to Steve’s awaiting car.

The ride to Steve’s house was filled with laughter, singing the songs on the radio that we knew, and stolen glances.

Deciding to be a little less humorous, I asked, “This… isn’t going to end up with us at Lover's Lake, is it?”

Letting out a shocked laugh, Steve looked at me. “I didn’t plan on it! It’s just two friends hanging out, watching a movie, right? Like we always do.”

A little hurt by his words, I nodded and looked out the window, quietly saying, “Yeah.”

Noticing the change in my demeanor, he put his hand on my thigh, asking, “Hey. You okay?”

I looked down at his hand, wishing that my thigh could be a permanent spot for it. The words I wanted to confess started to bubble up in my throat, but I swallowed them down and decided on, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. I’ll perk up once we get to your house. You know how car rides make me a little sleepy.”

Steve nodded, rubbing his thumb on my thigh before pulling his hand away. The action of his thumb caused a shock wave to my core and stomach, as well as a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.

~~~

“Two hits; me hitting you, you hitting the floor. Anytime you’re ready, pal.” As Andrew took Bender down the ground, I felt a tap on my shoulder, so I leaned my head in that direction, eyes still glued to the TV.

“I still don’t get why he did that,” Steve whispered.

“Because Bender’s a burnout, Andrew’s a jock, they don’t like each other,” I explained. “Bender was also making Claire feel very uncomfortable. Now, stop asking and just watch the movie.”

After Bender stabbed the knife into the top of the wood on the chair next to him, I leaned back over to Steve to explain Bender a little further. “He also has a really shitty home life. I’m talking, abuse. It gets explained in just a little bit.”

“Gotcha,” Steve whispered in my ear.

As the movie played on, Steve and I kept stealing glances at each other. I only knew he was stealing them at me because when I would turn my head to look at him, he’d quickly turn his head back in the direction of the movie.

I cleared my throat during the Impression of the Life scene and turned my head towards Steve, looking at the side of his face. “Hey. Uhm. Are your… parents… out of town?”

“They’re always out of town, you know this,” he replied, eyes locked on the tv.

“No, Dad! What about you?! Fuck you!”

“Shit, you were right–”

“Wait, just wait.”

“Looks about the size of a cigar. Do I stutter? See this is what you get in my house when you spill the pain in the garage. Now, I don’t think I need to sit with you fucking dildos anymore.”

Steve cleared his throat as she started bouncing his leg. “Ya’know, uhm… that girl I told you and Robin about last night? The one that didn’t seem interested.”

I sighed and sat up, crossing my arms. “Yeah.”

“Well, I left something out.”

“Hmm. What’s that?” My replies were coming off as short. Every other movie night, Steve and I wouldn’t be sitting as close as we were; his arm around my shoulders, my head resting on his, my farthest leg in between his, almost as if I was sitting with my legs crossed.

I stole a glance at him as he swallowed, seeing him looking down at his lap. 

“She, uh… she wanted me to use a toy on her,” he said. “She said that she hadn’t… ya’know… finished, and that her toy or whatever could do the job.”

“Sounds more like a personal problem to me,” I said. “But at least you two got to have sex, right?”

“Y/N/N, do you know what that does to a man?”

“Awww, Stevie got a bruised ego?” I sassed. It came out harsher than I intended.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I stood up then and grabbed my bag off the chair. “I’m leaving.” I started walking towards the front door as I mumbled, “Robin can win this stupid bet, I don’t care.”

“Hold on,” Steve said. “A bet? What bet?”

I stopped and slightly turned towards him, eyes filled with the tiniest bit of rage. “A sex bet.”

“A sex bet?!”

“Yes, Steve! A fucking sex bet. I’ve been so sex deprived that I told her I was gonna fuck the next person to walk through the door at Family Video, and guess who just so happened to walk through with five VHS tapes. You. I went along with her little bet because I, for one, need sex because I haven’t had it in so long, and two, I’m so in love with you, it’s stupid.”

He looked at me like I was crazy, like he was mad, like he was confused all wrapped into one, but ultimately settled on amused. “You’re in love with me?” “Yes!” I exclaimed. “I’m so goddamn in love with you, I feel like I can’t breathe around you! Every time you’re near and I smell that fucking cologne you wear all the time, I swear to fuck, I wanna drop to my knees when you’re around. And every Tuesday when you come into work and tell us all about the sex you’ve had, I get a little angry every time because I wish in my heart of hearts that it was me you were filling up, making me feel good, making me cry out your name in pleasure during my climax. Making– what are you doing?”

I hadn’t realized that in my ramble and confession that Steve had moved closer to me and removed my bag from my shoulder, dropping it to the floor. “I’m taking you back to the couch,” he said, taking my jaw in his hands.

“Why?” I whispered.

He leaned in closer, whispering, “To make you feel good,” before placing his lips on mine, soft at first, waiting to see if I was going to kiss him back, which I did… quite firm, might I add.

Our lips moved in a messy sync for what felt like ever, before I felt him squat a little, grabbing the backs of my thighs. Without him asking, I jumped, wrapping my arms around his neck before he turned us around and led to the couch, only to turn around again to sit on the piece of furniture.

Before he was able to lean back, I grabbed the bottom of his shirt that wasn’t tucked into jeans and pulled up, lifting the material up and over his head to discard it on the floor by his feet. Our lips locked again in a few more messy kisses before Steve’s tongue made its way into my mouth, exploring. 

It was as if we were one, moving almost all parts of our bodies in sync with the other. Tongues not fighting for dominance, hands roaming on shoulders and arms, neck and hair. He put his hands in my hair, pulling just a tab, causing me to take a sharp intake of breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I forgot you were tender headed.”

I chuckled, “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

He smiled, saying, “Good,” before putting his lips back on my own just to move his lips to my cheek, jawline and neck, where he searched for my sweet spot; at the junction where my neck and shoulder meet.

I gasped in pleasure, grinding my core down on his denim covered length, a groan sounding him from. I pulled back, hand over my mouth as I looked in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Steve looked confused with a smile on his face. “Why?” I moved my mouth to my hair, pushing some of my hair behind my ear as I asked, “I didn’t hurt you?”

Tilting his head back on the couch, he said, “No.” Picking his head up, he looked me deep in my eyes, his smile never faltering. Chuckling, he said, “It felt good.”

“Oh,” I said, putting my arms down, fingers landing at his belt buckle. “Okay, well… do you wanna continue?”

I looked at him as he put his hand on my cheek. “You have a bet to win,” he whispered before kissing me once more.

I giggled into the kiss, making the both of us smile into it. “It’s like you’re kiss deprived or something.”

He chuckled, moving his hands to the top of my jeans where the bottom of my shirt also sat inside of. “I can think of another set of lips I can kiss.”

I feigned a gasp, eyes still closed, mouth still on his. “Steven Harrington.”

“Y/N Henderson.”

I opened my eyes, his still closed. “Well. What are you waiting for?”

That made his eyes open real quick, his fists pulling my shirt up and over my head, revealing the white bra I had put on after my shower earlier. As I went for Steve’s neck, he went for my shoulder, pressing kisses along it while sliding the strap off my shoulder.

“Take it off,” I breathed. “Take the fucking bra off.”

He chuckled, expertly unclasping my bra. I huffed a breath as he did so, putting my hands on his shoulders, pushing myself to look him in the eyes. “If you keep laughing, I’ll walk my ass home.”

He chuckled… again, but gripped my hips with the tiniest bit of force. “I’ll stop, baby, I promise.”

Stunned by the pet name, I raised a brow. “Baby? So, we’re at that stage in the frien– relation– us.”

“Yes,” he said. “Unless you’re just looking to fuck.”

I feigned thinking on it for a moment before yelping, Steve grabbing the button of my jeans, pulling me forward, also causing me to giggle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Yes, I am looking to fuck, but I also want to be with you. You’re it for me.” I put my hand on his cheek, bringing our foreheads together, eyes closed. I whispered, “You’ve always been it for me, baby.”

The kiss we shared next wasn’t like the others we’d been having, all hungry and fervent and shit. No, this kiss… this kiss was slower, much more passionate. Open mouthed, but not rushed. Taking more time to explore each other's mouths.

As we kissed, I took my bra off the rest of the way, the material having fallen to my elbows at the talk we’d had just moments prior. Feeling Steve’s bulge in his jeans, I decided that now would be the next time to take his belt off of him and unbutton his jeans to release the strain I knew he was feeling.

After I unbuckled his belt, he placed a hand on my back, sitting me up straighter to cup one of my breasts, bringing me forward to place his mouth on my nipple.

“Steve,” I moaned, one hand going to his hair and the other pulling the belt out of the loops. I dropped the belt to the floor, putting my free hand in his hair as he lapped at my nipple with his tongue.

As he switched breasts, he looked up at me and placed his lips on mine for a wet, chaste kiss as the hand he’d been cupping my breast with covered it completely. Removing the hand closest to the hand on my breast, I placed it on top of his, his fingers spreading to attempt to lace our fingers together.

When he was satisfied with the pleasure he was giving me through my breasts, he bit his lip and wrapped his arms around me, flipping us to the side so that my back hit the couch, all of those movements causing me to giggle.

His lips went right back on mine as he popped the button on my jeans. He placed his fingers on the inside of the material, ready to pull them down my legs. Shoes were long discarded by the door the moment we arrived at his house about an hour prior, movie long forgotten about.

Instead of heading south like I thought he was going to, he instead moved north, towards my face. Giving a light kiss, he said, “I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise.”

“Then do it already,” I said. 

Steve gave one last kiss on my lips before moving down, placing kisses between my breasts and down my stomach to the top of my jeans. He pulled the denim down, kissing the newly exposed skin as he did so.

Grabbing at my panties as he went, he stopped kissing once he got right above where the tops of my panties would sit. He lightly tapped at my bum, silently asking me to lift it, so I did, making it easier for him to slide the rest of the materials down my legs and to the floor.

The look he was giving made me a little insecure, so as I tried to cover everything exposed, he laced our fingers together, looking at me with the most sincere look he’d giving me tonight. “Don’t ever hide from me,” he said. “You’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl–”

“You’ve been with?”

“In the world,” he whispered. He looked down at my area and back at me, a smirk on his face. “You shave your vagina?”

“One, never say the word vagina again, and two, yes. It’s a personal preference.”

“If I can’t say vagina, what word can I say? Pussy?”

“Oohhhh, who knew Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington had a dirty mouth,” I sassed.

He shook his head and looked back down, kissing the top of my pussy. “So soft,” he whispered. “Bet it tastes good, too.”

As he grabbed the underside of my thigh to spread my legs open, I whispered, “Then maybe you should have a taste.”

With no hesitation, Steve dipped down and kissed the very top of my slit, bringing it tongue out to lightly lick where he’d kiss before going further south to my clit and entrance. He licked from the bottom of my entrance right up to my clit, where his tongue found a home. 

“Oh, my– fuck,” I moaned, placing my hand on the crown of his head. My free hand went to one of my own breasts, cupping it. It felt as if I had died and went to Heaven when his tongue moved from my clit to my entrance, lapping up the juices I was producing. 

He pulled back a little to say, “Taste so good,” before diving back in, causing me to arch my back a little.

I was done for when he inserted two fingers into my pussy, pumping in and out, stretching me for what I knew was to come. “Steve,” I moaned. “I’m so close to cumming. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna–” I moaned, my pussy tightening on his fingers. He never stopped until I pushed his head away, repeating the word “Okay” like a prayer.

As I was catching my breath, Steve kissed his way back up my stomach and breasts until his lips met mine, the two of us sharing a passionate kiss.

While essentially making out, I unbuttoned his jeans and started to push them down his legs until I couldn’t anymore. I let out a whine mid-kiss, a wholehearted laugh coming from the half-naked man above me.

He stood up, removing his jeans and boxers, grabbing his length to stroke it. I went to sit up to do the work for him and take him in my mouth, he shook head, crawling back on top of me. “No. Tonight is about you. I’m making you feel good.”

“But–”

“You can work on me another night,” he said, voice so soft, I thought I missed what he said.

I nodded, putting my hands on his cheeks for another slow, passionate kiss. At the same time our lips met, the head of his penis met my entrance, sliding up to my clit and back down to my entrance before doing it a couple of more times.

Once he was satisfied with how wet got himself, he looked me in the eyes, silently asking me if this was something I still wanted to do, so I nodded because, of course I did!

He looked back at himself, and watched as he slid into me, a quiet groan of pleasure coming from him. He huffed out a small laugh, looking back at me. “Taking me like a champ.”

“You’re the biggest I’ve ever had, Steve,” I replied, hands smoothing back some of his hair. Deciding to add a little humor, I added, “Just don’t cum in me too fast. I can already feel you trying not to bust a nut.”

He laughed as pulled out some just to push back in a little harder than I had expected him to, a loud moan pouring out of me. “Say shit like that again, and it’ll be harder.”

All I did was look him in the eye, breathing, “I like it hard. But, seeing as this is our first time, can we try… maybe a little slower? Still hard, but not rough?”

Steve nodded, placing his forehead against mine as he started thrusting in and out of me, slow at first, gradually going a little faster and a little harder, but not too hard. It was that perfect hard thrust. I can’t really describe it. He was making me feel too good!

With one foot on the ground and the other leg bent on the cushions of the couch, Steve stood to the best of his ability, grabbing my hips and pulling my bottom up off the couch, ever so slightly.

He reached a spot that, even I never knew existed.

“Oh, my god, Steve,” I yelled in pleasure. “I’m gonna cum again!”

“Me, too, baby, me too,” he grunted.

Hearing the new pet name sent me over the edge without realizing it. It didn’t even register to me that I yelled out his name, probably loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.

I was too busy coming down from my second high that I didn’t even notice that Steve pulled out and started jerking himself, sending white hot stream of cum along the top of my pussy.

When I finally opened my eyes, having closed them during my climax, I saw Steve stand fully, both feet on the carpet of the living room. Looking down, I scooped up a dot of cum, bringing my finger to my mouth, smiling once it hit my tongue. “Taste so good.”

He shook head, smile ever present on his face as he turned away to retrieve a warm, damp washcloth to help clean us up with. He helped me put my panties back on, but gave me his shirt to wear as he put his boxers and jeans back on.

When we finally sat down and cuddled each other the best we could on the couch, we caught the last little bit of the movie, watching as Bender walked across the football field, fist in the air.

Steve put on Sixteen Candles, knowing that that movie was also a favorite of mine. At the scene where Sam and Randy are looking at Carole Mulford in the locker room showers, Steve and I decided to lay down on the couch, sleep hitting us like a bus.

He laid down first, letting me lay on top of him, my ear to his chest listening to his heartbeat. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was feeling a blanket cover me, a kiss to the top of my head, Steve telling me good night, and Sam screaming on the phone with Randy the night after the dance.

~~~

The following day, Steve and I woke up at the sound of his father yelling at the both of us. We quickly grabbed our clothes and headed upstairs to his bedroom, laughing once the door was shut.

“I thought they were out of town!” I giggled.

“Must’ve come back early,” he said, putting a clean shirt on.

I put my jeans back on, and buttoned them before turning to the mirror and fluffing my hair out a little bit. “I forgot to remove my makeup last night. Damn.”

“Yeah, well, we were a little preoccupied.”

I smiled at him, turning to wrap my arms around his neck after having walked the few steps over to him. “I’d like to be that preoccupied again.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, kissing me before I could nod. Activities that ensued after caused us to be late for work. The two of us piled into the car, and he took me home for a few seconds so that I could retrieve my work vest.

Once I was back in the car, Steve drove us to work, where we were getting chewed out by Keith for being late. He went ignored, though, as he always chewed us out for even clocking in on time.

Robin, Steve and I had our own little private meeting about what would be going down at the video rental store, the three of us ultimately deciding to go about our normal jobs; Robin shelving returns, Steve with the customers, and myself on computer to put in the returns and call customers about their past due returns.

During a break Robin had from putting returns away, she leaned on the counter next to the computer, causing me to smile.

“What do you want, Robin?”

“How’d it go last night?” she asked.

“And this morning?” I said, looking at her from the corner of my eye.

Her face lit up with delight and happiness, but also with sadness. “That means I lost?!”

“Lost what?” 

I looked over and saw my little brother standing at the front of the counter, what looked like to be a shirt in his hand. “Dusty, what is that?”

“Clean shirt,” he said, tossing it to me. I caught it as he said, “Ya’know. Since you and Steve fucked last night.”

My eyes went as wide as saucers, mouth dropping open as I said, “How did you–”

“Bye, I love you!”

“That little shit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! okay, so, i just wanted to let anyone know that was curious while reading what the word area means in this type of fic. i used the word area because that’s what i describe to my daughter about the body part her and i share. i know that actually teaching her that we have a vagina is important, but she’s 5.5 years old, and that’s just my parenting style. if she has any questions about it when she gets older and hears the word, then i’ll let her know that we have a vagina. but enough with my little rant. let me know what you thought about this! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i saw a post in the steve harrington x reader tag that said if you’re gonna write a smut where s.h x reader get caught doing the nasty, don’t let it be one of the younger s.t. characters. let it be like a parent or something. and i totally agree with that. so, from here on out, all my smut fics will not have dustin or one of other kids walking in on s.h. x reader having wrestle time. at the end, dustin says he knows about s.h. x reader having sex. he called robin and coerced it out of her, lol. THAT’S how he knows.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: none yet!​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @stilinskiparker.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on July 7, 2022

[an-entity-i-think]

QPR!Mergana Prompt:

Blah blah merlin reveals his magic earlier they figure out how to defeat Morgana without killing her blah blah she's redeemed even though her and Merlin are still like HIGHLY suspicious of each other and everyone thinks that either one of them would kill the other at any given moment if given the choice.

The council refuses to allow Morgana to be placed third in line for the crown after the king and queen because 'she'll kill them and then take the thrown legally why on earth would we agree to that?'. Which Arthur and Gwen are annoyed at cause she's redeemed! Have some faith smh

Meanwhile the council is looking beside them where Morgana and Merlin are glaring at each other like theyre about to start civil war all over again cause Morgana 'accidently' threw some hummus in his hair and Merlin 'accidently' spilt some of his wine on her dress and should someone get between that?

But I digress. Someone says 'if she marrys someone of suitable nature to rule *with* her in case the king and queen are dead or otherwise unable to rule, then we can probably agree with it' and everyone sits back and is like damn yeah that's so true random lord nobody cares about

But Arthur of course who found HIS true love (and is now a feminist, good job Gwen and Merlin!) Looks at his sister like 🥺 I'd never force you to marry 🥺 is there anybody you'd be happy to marry? 🥺 if not we can try to argue for something else? 🥺

And Morgana bored as hell, twirling a knife around, but with not a single slick of hesitation is like, 'Merlin.'

And everyone's eyes widen in shock while Merlin uses magic to turn the knife into a well known thorned purple flower (ouch), responds, again without a single slick of hesitation, 'Yeah, sure.'

And jaws drop.

Arthur and Gwen, both on the same page of absolute confusion are like 'what' cause neither of them have seen either of their best friends show any sort of attraction towards the other (and even though they ignore their hostile interactions cause neither of them have been hurt... permanently since she came back). They look at each other like 'did we miss something? Are they together? Is all this hostility some sort of foreplay?)

It is *not* foreplay.

But to understand we'd have to go back to when Morgana and Merlin were friends. You know, when they both were happy and hopeful for a better future.

Because they were *friends*. And even though maybe they weren't *best friends* because Morgana had Gwen and Merlin had Arthur, they were still close! And they still cared for each other and talked about things that they couldn't really talk to their other friends about!

And one of those things is that Morgana doesn't think she'd ever want to have sex. Ever. Like she is repulsed by the idea, girl or boy. And the idea of being married off? And being forced to have an heir she doesn't want? With someone she probably doesn't even like?

Well. That scares the fuck out of her.

And she shares this with Merlin who of course holds her hand because both of them are generally emotionally healthy at the time with physically affection and he shares that he doesn't really care for the idea of sex either. That he isn't completely repulsed by it and wouldn't mind doing it with someone he loved to make them happy but that he doesn't really see them importance of it and what all the fuss is about and that she isn't 'broken' or whatever else she believes and they cry and hug and it's nice and friendly.

They have many conversations where this comes up, a knight will make a dirty joke within hearing range and they'll look to each other across the room to make an 'ick' face before both holding back laughs.

They'll talk about how to respond Gwen and Arthur practically undressing each other with their eyes with equal disgust and fondness.

Maybe Merlin even tells her of Freya and how he thinks he might have loved her and how he doesn't think he wants to again because it took all this time to even maybe like someone romantically and it didn't end well and even though he hears everyone crave it he thinks well maybe he was in love with the idea of loving someone and having someone by his side more than he loved her and does that make him wrong somehow?

And this time it's Morgana's turn to say 'no it's not wrong!' Because she's never understood why her friendship with Gwen and him were supposed to be 'less' than whatever hypothetical romance she'll be forced to have with a man. Because everyone around them always say 'it's like friendship but more' when describing how they fell in love and it makes her stomach turn because why is one love more than another? Can't they both be important? Why is it more and why can't it just be different?

And she says that she thought it was just because she couldn't stand the idea of having sex with someone so she assumed that was why she's never had the feeling of butterflies in her stomach but she goes on with 'if you're wrong then so am I, but since you said I'm not broken then neither are you'.

And they hug and maybe they'll joke around and kiss each other on the hands to show intimacy between friends and neither of them are worried about how it could be misconstrued because they both know there's nothing romantic or sexual about it and they just smile happily.

And maybe Merlin will give her flowers because he knows she likes the purple ones even though they're thorned and maybe she'll show him how to make it into a crown and put it on him just as he puts one on her because well neither of them will be crowned because well he's just a servant and she's just a ward but that doesn't matter in Morganas room while they giggle like peasants and dance like royalty.

Not every talk is as kind as others and especially as Morganas magic gets stronger she gets more and more distant because well Merlin never thought she was broken before but well everyone has a line right?

But one night when he snuck in, he had a rough day where he almost died again and he can't tell anybody (shed also just woken up from another nightmare) so he goes to his friend and she knows he doesn't want to talk about it from the ruffle of his eyebrows (and she doesnt want to talk about it, he can tell from the slightest downward frown) so they lay on the bed and she offers her hand which he takes and they hold each other tight and curl up to share warmth with their hands held between them and neither of them can sleep but sharing this is enough for now.

And maybe- it's been a few minutes or a few hours they're not sure but the sun hasn't risen yet so when Merlin begins to talk it has nothing to do with what's bothering either of them at the moment but both of them love plans and ideas so when he says, 'if one day you are betrothed against your wishes, we could get married instead. Then neither of us would have to worry about being with someone who doesn't understand because I trust you not to take what I don't want to give and I hope you trust me for the same.'

And maybe Merlin hasn't told her about his magic because he's scared and isn't sure and maybe Morgana won't tell him about the dream (nightmare) she just had about a sister because she doesn't think he'd understand but sometimes trusting someone more than anyone else doesn't equal telling them every single thing about yourself even if it hurts to discover it after.

So when Morgana says 'well what lf they try to hurt you for it? What if they think you've enchanted me or something else just as silly. You know how Uther is.'

And they both think 'I fear him more than you know and I'd never wish you harm.'

But Merlin just smiles the tiniest smile with the hint of a dimple that always makes Morgana smile back when she sees it and says, 'Well, we'll protect each other won't we? In sickness and in health?'

And later, much much later, Merlin will give her a cup of tea and end up choosing the lives of thousands of people over her not only cause it was the right thing to do but also because he thought that's what *she* would have wanted too once upon a time when they kissed each other's hands.

And even later than that she will leave him chained up and for certain death on the side of her sister not only cause she thought he betrayed her and thought she was broken after all but also because she doesn't understand why he wouldn't support her birthright even after placing a crown on each other's head while giggling and dancing.

But for that moment in bed before anything terrible happens between then with hands entwined she snorts a little before they both grin. They stare at each other as if measuring the earnestness in each other's eyes before their smiles gentle.

'Promise?' Morgana asks. Because even though she's never been a damsel in distress who needs a prince to save her, the idea of having someone by her side... and that person being someone she trusts is something she's never allowed herself.

But of course Merlin just squeezes their hands tightly like an oath all on its own, 'I promise,' because even though he'll never be a knight, he doesn't need a sword to be there for someone he cares about.

So they smile at each other with love. Not a love that's 'more' than friendship, but they both think separately that maybe it is a little different than their love for Gwen and Arthur even if it isn't the same different kind of love between lovers.

And maybe they fall asleep like that with smiles on their faces before waking up just as dawn hits where they will pull away and Merlin will kiss her on the forehead just as she kisses him on the cheek and they will hug and go their separate ways just before Gwen comes bustling in to begin her servant work for the day. Surprised her Lady is smiling, she asks happily, 'No nightmare?'

And Morgana looks up in surprise, before smiling gently in a way that Gwen can't quite decipher, 'Oh I didn't dream at all.'

And they'll smile at each other and later at dinner she'll stick her tongue out at Merlin behind Uther and Arthur's back when they talk about the next princess for Arthur to woo and even though later it will not be well between then and even later than that it will be even worse-

Eventually they end up in the council room where there are talks about Morgana being crown princess if she is betrothed. And her brother and best friend look at her with worry in their eyes because they'd never wish her to do something against her will but for the briefest of moments, so quick only Merlin would notice, she looks down at the purple wine stain on her dress and thinks about the purple flower crown that was placed gently upon her head and says calmly, assuredly, 'Merlin' as her choice. Because hadn't she already chosen so many years ago?

And his eyes may only flicker towards her, but she only needs to look at her knife transform into a thorned purple flower, thorns just missing her hand, for her to know he's remembering the same moments as her.

'Yeah, sure.'

And maybe everyone thinks they were hiding some sort of torrid romance from them, or that they're crazy, or even that all their hostility is some sort of foreplay for hate sex of some sort.

But they don't know about the long talks they shared while laying on the ground side by side and kisses on each other's hands and flower crowns and giggles and dancing and-

They don't know how it feels to kill and be killed by someone you promised to protect and were promised to be protected by.

They don't know how it feels to go into a battle to the death with someone and wake up to see a glare on their face while their hand is entwined with yours.

So maybe the council will murmur about how the court sorceror would never let her kill for the crown and maybe Arthur and Gwen will murmur worriedly to each other about if this is a good idea? And did they miss something?

And maybe he'll trip her so she falls when she stands up so she knocks the leg of his chair so he falls with her and maybe both of them were *somehow* cushioned so it's an annoyance and not a bruise.

Just as they've always been physical with their affection (it's so important to share how you feel), they try to be emotionally healthy and share their disdain too (best not to bottle it up).

Because, well, even though she'd never take a cup of tea from him and he flinches when he sees her near some chains- when a certain song comes on well they must share a dance, don't they? And if they see some purple flowers, well, flower crowns just must be made- it'd be wrong not to.

And well, if they're married, it's quite normal for them to entwine their hands while they sleep dreamless and warm even if he wakes up with a scratchy pillow and she wakes up with hers covered in slime.

After all, what is love without some pain? And truly, love and hatred are but a slippery slope.

A promise is a promise after all.

[specialagentlokitty]

Elijah x reader - only you

You beg for asks for characters I'm not super familiar with, but I can give some general prompts I'd like to see for them! Any of the three u asked for with the prompts "I wish you'd ask me to stay.""If you leave now, you're not coming back." And "I'll always come back to you." In that order, I'm feeling angsty with happy endings. Do with this what you will, in your own time (this ask is also a Go Feral At Will And Write Whatever You Want pass). Take care!!! - Anon💜

You didn’t want him to go, you didn’t want him to leave. He was familiar, and he was kind and understanding.

You wanted Elijah to stay, even if no one else wanted him there, you did.

But you couldn’t say anything to him, standing on your porch, you stared at him, watching as he sent a message to someone before he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

“Thank you for being hosting me (Y/N).” He smiled.

“Yeah… you’re welcome…” you whispered.

Looking away, you knew what was going to happen. They were going to stake him, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening.

Elijah sighed, placing his hand under your chin, he lifted your head so he was looking at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked.

“Nothing… just school stuff…” you mumbled.

“Now, don’t lie. What is it?” He asked.

You smiled weakly and shook your head at him.

Bringing your hand up, you lightly wrapped it around his wrist.

“It’s nothing Elijah, really. I know I didn’t have much choice in housing you, but it was nice to have you here, really.”

“It was nice.” He agreed.

You lowered Elijah’s arm, and let your hand fall back to your side as you avoided his gaze.

“I wish you’d ask me to stay.” He whispered.

Snapping your eyes towards him, you stared at him in shock. He was smiling softly at you.

“What?”

“I wish you’d ask me to stay, perhaps it would make things different. Perhaps I would stay if you so wished.” He smiled.

Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head softly as you looked away.

You’d grown fond of the vampire though you wouldn’t admit it. Yes, he was after Elena and wanted to use her to kill his brother.

Yes, sometimes he hurt people.

But never had Elijah laid a single hand on you, never had he hurt.

Yes, you housed him. Because you had no other choice, it was part of his agreement with Elena to keep her compliant with him.

But he helped when you needed it, and he looked after you when you weren’t feeling too well, and he protected you from any vampire that tried working their way in.

He was different around you then he was with the others.

Maybe it was him keeping you warmed up to him so he could use you, maybe it was because it was who he really was, maybe it was because he actually cared for you.

But you had no idea.

“I must leave now. But again, thank you.”

You watched him walk down the path.

“Elijah!” You called.

“Hm?”

He turned around to face you.

“If you leave now, you’re not coming back…” you mumbled.

You knew he could hear you.

You just hoped he understood.

He chuckled, walking over, he took his blazer off and wrapped it around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

With that, he was gone.

Walking inside, you closed and locked the door behind you, skimping against it as you pulled his blazer tighter around you and buried your head in your knees.

Eventually you managed to get up, and you went straight upstairs to your room.

Elijah never slept, so he would sit downstairs and read all night, he’d only come upstairs if you couldn’t sleep.

Sometimes you’d try teaching him how to play games, but he just couldn’t quite figure them out.

Crawling into bed, you stared at the pillow opposite you and held his blazer.

Damn it.

You shouldn’t have gotten attached the the evil original who wanted to kill your friend.

But he understood you.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard for you to accept the fact that they were going to stake him.

At the end of the day, between Elena, the girl who’s family practically raised you when yours left, the girl who was like a sister to you, and Elijah, the vampire you just met, you were going to choose her.

And you always would choose her, because she was family.

Even if she wouldn’t choose you over Stefan, you’d choose her.

“I’m really sorry Elijah…”

You laid like that for hours until you finally fell asleep.

For the next few days you kept quiet, and everyone understood why. You genuinely cared for the original, and they took him away from you.

Sitting on the grass outside the school, you were reading one of the books he left behind.

“(Y/N)?”

Looking up, you smiled at Stefan as he sat down.

“I’m really sorry for what we did, but we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know… I don’t blame you for it.. it just… reminds me of the past I guess… but you didn’t have a choice, we’ve got to keep Elena safe.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He smiled.

“Anytime.” You smiled back.

Stefan sat with you for the rest of lunch, but you decided you didn’t want to go to history or English, so you went home instead.

Heading to your bedroom, you kicked your shoes off and grabbed the blazer from the back of the chair as you climbed into bed.

Holding it tightly, you closed your eyes as you sighed.

“You know, I believe I may be better comfort then that.”

You shot up, blazer falling from your grasp as you stared at your doorway.

Elijah stood there, looking dishevelled, blood on his shirt but a smile on his face.

Holding his arms out, you scurried to get off the bed and ran at him, jumping into his arms.

Elijah chuckled softly, holding you gently as he walked over to the bed and laid down, you still clinging to his chest.

Smiling down at you, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and closed his eyes, resting his chin there as he sighed.

“H..how…?” You weakly asked.

“I’ll always come back to you…” he whispered back.

When he was staked, you were the only thing that went through his head. What would happen to you, who would protect you and keep you safe.

He could only think about you, and how much he didn’t want anything to happen to you.

How much he actually cared for you.

Now, holding you in his arms. Elijah was going to be dammed if anything happened to you while he was around

[shingia]

not many people would be willing to be used as a way to prove eren jaeger wrong. but jean kirstein would, as long as he gets something out of it...

CHAPTER 8: FIREWORKS

↳ jean kirstein x f!reader | series masterlist

↳ cw: drinking, cursing, suggestive? but still sfw lol

↳ the time it took me to write this chapter its not even funny anymore (i lost the draft after writing 3k :D). ANYWAYS enjoy<3

<- CHAPTER 7

“i still don’t see why we can’t just print more money”

at this point, everyone but eren knew that connie was just messing with him. but even mikasa - who was usually so prompt to scold connie for his tendency to drive eren crazy with his question - wasn’t planning on putting an end to their bickering.

you had been waiting in line in front of the club for thirty minutes now, a bit of distraction was well-needed.

“oh for fuck’s sake, connie” eren threw his head back in despair, “INFLATION”.

“fuck inflation! we created that, it’s literally just a concept!”

on your left, niccolo seemed rather puzzled by their interaction. you had to admit, connie was good in his role. maybe even too good.

“every damn week… the same conversation...” sasha sighed, and the shiver that ran up her spine made niccolo pull her a bit closer.

mikasa and you were beginning to suffer from the cold as well. the jackets you were wearing had been warm enough when you had left the apartment to go for drinks around 9pm. but two hours had passed, and the weather wasn't as mild.

the few drinks eren had bought you earlier had made things better for a little while, but the warmth of your dizziness was fading away a bit more with every minute you were spending waiting outside the club.

as for armin, he had avoided being dragged to tonight's party by pretending he wasn’t feeling well. you all had doubts, but eren had eventually accepted to just leave him alone. and imagining him cozily tucked in bed with a movie probably playing on his laptop was almost making you reconsider your plans for the night.

"didn't you tell me jean was supposed to come?" you heard niccolo ask sasha, who checked something on her phone before shoving it back into his pocket.

"he'll meet us later, they went out for drinks with pieck, porco and colt", she replied, resting her cheek on his shoulder, "i just hope they won't have to wait in line as much as we did".

"with porco? no way. they'll get in in no time".

maybe eren heard niccolo's words. maybe he was just growing too impatient. either way, that last sentence had him muster enough courage to engage in an intense negotiation with the bouncer; a discussion of which you heard only snippets. one thing was sure, his ego would be hurt if jean could get in faster than him.

your shoulder pressing against mikasa's, you could feel her shivers getting more and more frequent in the past minutes. and that probably explained why both of you were the first to enter the club when the bouncer finally let you in.

"you poli sci guys really do have a way with words, huh?" connie grinned as he patted eren's back on his way inside.

"you could have done that earlier though," niccolo teased him, but didn't have much time to hear eren's reply since sasha was already out of his sight.

the first thing you thought about when you stepped inside, was that armin had made the right decision by staying home. he would’ve hated every single thing about that club. from the sticky floor to the deafening beats of music that pulsated in your ears.

the crowd reeked of liquor and sweat; yet you were not able to spot one person that didn't look like they were having the time of their life.

the people here had no choice but to dance or to drink, and both seemed to be fogging their brain with an intoxicating feeling of euphoria. especially the ones swaying their hips on the stage, who looked like they ruled the entire nightclub.

as usual, sasha was the first one to dive into the crowd. and for once you were not hesitant to follow her. the strobe lights moved like lasers all around you, masking most of your movements. there was no shame and no guilt in quickly giving in to the music, especially when sasha seemed so eager to do so.

"don't let go of my hand!" she advised you, practically screaming into your ear. and that's when she pulled you towards one of the rare free spots of the room, leaving you just enough time to grab mikasa's wrist not to lose her in the crowd.

it was like fireworks all around you, and inside your head. the only constant source of light was the one coming from the bar area, like a lodestar to follow.

mikasa, sasha and you decided to dance in a tight-knit circle, practically touching shoulders to make sure you wouldn't get any unwanted company.

"sash!" mikasa patted sasha's shoulder as the end of the fifth song melted into the beginning of the sixth. she cupped her hands around her ears. "there's a guy checking you out!", she told her, eyes riveted on a guy of about your age, who had been trying to get closer to the three of you for a few minutes now.

you had spotted him about a song ago. but knowing mikasa, she had noticed him and guessed his intentions much earlier. it was one of the perks of going out with her: she was always the guarantor of your safety.

sasha nodded, almost like she was used to this kind of situation. and perhaps she was. you had no way of knowing actually, since she had gone clubbing without you many times.

but it’s the way she managed to quickly grab niccolo's attention, who had been keeping an eye on her from the bar. with a quick movement of the fingers, she beckoned him to come closer; and it took no more than that for niccolo to get up from his stool and elbow his way through the crowd.

"you okay?" you read niccolo's lips as sasha loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. she nodded, looking chill as ever as his eyes swept the crowd.

the smooth transition from one song to another suddenly made the people around you jump and down, like the entire room shared a unique heartbeat.

some elbows landed in your ribs, some feet stepped on mikasa's, yet sasha and niccolo didn't move an inch. like a frozen picture in the middle of chaos, they were peacefully sharing the most unabashed and sloppiest kiss you had ever witnessed, and in the meantime destroying the stranger's hopes of even talking to sasha tonight.

still trying your best to avoid bumping into the people around you, mikasa and you watched him roll his alcohol-fogged eyes before turning away with his shoulders slumped in defeat. the crowd engulfed him in a couple of seconds.

"wanna get a drink?" mikasa asked you, and only you since neither niccolo nor sasha seemed disposed to listen to her right now.

your only answer was to nod and grab her wrist once again as she dragged you to the bar, walking through the crowd the exact same way niccolo had just done.

"i'm so sweaty already," she grimaced with disgust, wiping the beads of sweat on her neck, "how long have we been there?".

you shrugged, there was no way of knowing since you had left your phone in your purse. probably thirty minutes.

around you, people were jostling their way to the counter, without really paying attention to who was here first. squinting to get a better view of the menu hung on the wall, you skimmed it without even knowing what kind of drink you were craving. something cheap, that's all you were looking for.

"a rum and coke please," you eventually ordered, leaning over the counter to be heard by the young barista.

but a voice rose behind you immediately after, and a hand rested on your shoulder: “it’s on me”.

mikasa and you simultaneously turned around. and the voice only made sense once you were able to see the face that went with it.

"oh hey porco!" you exclaimed, genuinely happy to see a familiar face now that mikasa and you had lost the rest of the group, "you don’t have to, i’ll pay for myself!”

but another voice brushed your concern off, as porco engaged in a friendly discussion with the barista.

“his brother owns the club, trust me it's no problem".

this time, you knew who it was without even seeing his face.

“hi there,” jean greeted you with a smile. he’d had a few drinks himself, undoubtedly, “you look good”.

“thanks,” you mirrored his expression, “you don’t look too bad yourself”.

your drink and mikasa’s came rather quickly (much quicker than if porco hadn’t been involved, you figured), and in your case, it was drank even quicker. alcohol tasted much better when you didn't have to pay for it. and that's something porco and jean definitely agreed to, since they proceeded to order three more drinks each.

but mikasa did not abuse the galliard brothers generosity. and neither did you, technically. you were just politely accepting porco's drinks and, according to him, helping marcel by "trying out new cocktails he wants to put on the menu".

however, tonight was initially about spending time with your main group of friends. and now that mikasa had gone back to the main crowd, where she had apparently spotted eren, you figured it was time for you to do the same.

"where were you?!" sasha exclaimed when she noticed you amongst the dozens of people around her. of course you wouldn't have heard her if she hadn’t pulled you by the arm.

"the bar! did you know the owner is porco's brother?” you asked her, but she obviously couldn't hear a word of what you were saying; you were too close to the dj to understand people without reading their lips. and it wasn't impossible that the drinks you'd had were making your articulation a bit approximative.

her hair, which had been tied in a neat ponytail just half an hour ago, was now hanging low in a bun that threatened to undo every second. but she was having fun, hips moving in sync with the music and occasionally reminding the guys around her of her relationship status by sharing a few kisses with niccolo.

you didn’t usually mind hang out with these two, but the more time passed, the more dancing on your own was getting kind of lonely. besides, you didn’t want the strangers around you to notice it and take that as an invitation to keep you unwanted company. you would’ve wanted to spend some time with eren, but he was nowhere to be seen.

on the other hand, you had a friend like connie who was not hard to spot in a crowd at all, especially in a club. standing in the middle of the stage, he was dancing with a bunch of complete strangers, visibly having the time of his life.

the mixture of several alcohols in your system was starting to take its toll; nevertheless, you staggered towards the stage without being interrupted by too many people.

towering over most of the crowd, connie had a good view of the entire room. still, it was rather impressive how quickly his eyes landed on you, especially since the flashing lights only lit your face up every other second. but you weren’t even near the stage yet that he was already motioning you to come and join him.

but connie wasn’t the only one benefitting from a clear view of the crowd.

if he was being perfectly honest, jean would say that he had already been keeping an eye out for you, frustrated by how short your conversation at the bar had been. it was therefore not very surprising that he spotted you right after connie did.

he wasn’t hard to spot either, being taller than most people. in the end, you didn’t know whether you had walked up to him, or if he had.

“where did the others go?” he asked, pulling you by the waist to the side of the stage, where fewer people were gathered.

you shrugged. you didn’t really care about where they were anymore. you were just glad that you had someone to stay with now.

“are you drunk?” he asked, but without an ounce of judgment in his voice, solely basing his question off of the giddy expression plastered on your face.

“no, i’m tipsy. huge difference,” you corrected him, poking his chest with a moralistic finger.

he laughed at that gesture, running a hand through his hair to keep the strands from falling into his eyes now that he was looking down at you. he would’ve liked to answer your statement, but you let out a gasp before he could even say a word: “ohh, i love that song!”.

not wanting to prevent you from going back to the crowd, he reluctantly let go of your waist, but still kept a cautious eye on you as you took a few steps back, and watched you join a group of girls whose energy seemed to match yours.

on the stage, connie was doing perfectly well on his own, dancing with his chest pressed against the back of a girl who had been eyeing him for quite some time now.

as for jean, he was just taking advantage of the fact that he still had a drink in hand to stay back and watch. but although he was very curious about how things were going to turn out for connie, you were making it impossible for him to stop looking in your direction.

well, not impossible, actually. because one thing did catch his eye and make him look away from you.

a few steps on your right was a guy whose eyes seemed to be set on you as well; and although jean wasn’t one to make quick assumptions about people, he was ready to bet that his intentions weren’t exactly praiseworthy.

he put his drink down on the nearest surface, knowing it would most probably be pushed to the floor in a few seconds, and decided to step in.

the first thing he did was resting his hands on your shoulders, before slightly bending down to make sure you‘d hear him: “there’s a weird guy checking you out,” he told you, lips brushing against your ear. he waited until he was sure you had recognized him before slowly moving his hands from your shoulders to your hips, “do you mind?”.

you hadn’t noticed the guy at all, therefore nothing had come to trouble your unusually carefree attitude. with a bit of help from your previous drinks, you put your hands over his, making sure he wouldn’t take them off this time.

“i don’t know, do i?” you replied as you raised your head to look at him, and planted a kiss on his jawline, which was already close to your mouth anyways.

the stranger wasn’t blind, and was quickly forced to understand that you weren’t inclined to talk to him, let alone let him lay his hands on you. he walked away pretty soon. and although it did not escape your notice nor jean’s, neither of you moved away from the other.

you still had no way of knowing what time it was. the only clue regarding how much time had passed was how much your legs and feet started to hurt after several songs.

“wanna go back to the bar and sit down?” jean offered you when he sensed you were getting a bit tired, and the enthusiasm with which you nodded made him laugh once again.

but the two of you had barely started making your way towards the bar that sasha - who had just left niccolo with porco and pieck - leaped on you, her fingers wrapping around your arm like a prey she had finally gotten her hands on: “bathroom break!” she exclaimed in a singsong voice, before pulling you towards the nearest bathroom, right next to the stage.

when the door closed behind you, the sudden change of scene made it feel like you had just entered a soundproof capsule, where the previously deafening music was just muffled noises.

a few other girls were in there as well, but you had no idea of knowing whether they were long-time friends or complete strangers. the atmosphere was so good-natured that you were starting to wonder whether this might not be your favorite room in the club.

“oh look who’s here!” a girl nudged her friend when she saw you sit on the sink.

the other girl flashed you a smile, and took a step towards you. she sounded and looked quite drunk, slurring most of her syllables.

“hi! we were just talking about how stinking cute you and your boyfriend were!”

you didn’t answer her. partly because you were too focused on the lines of the tiles to prevent your head from spinning too much, but mainly because you thought she wasn’t talking to you.

“hey,” sasha snapped her fingers in front of you, “she’s talking about you! you and your boyfriend.”

“oh,” you looked up at the girl, biting the inside of your cheek when you realized what she meant: “thank you, but we’re not dating.”

the group of girls shared perplexed looks. and sasha, seeing that you weren’t willing to give them more information, took the matter in hands.

“yeah, believe it or not, they’re just ‘sex friends’,” she sighed in an attempt to show how much she disagreed with that.

but her sigh provoked yours, as you leaned back until your back rested on the cold wall. eyes closed, you took a decision that you had been considering for a few days now.

“sash, i gotta tell you something”

her hands on your knees, she immediately focused back on you. “i’m all ears babe,” she told you with a bright smile. in the background, the beats of the music were making the wall pulsate against your back.

“...i never slept with jean” you let out, quickly enough not to change your mind mid-sentence. “i asked him to lie just to win the bet”.

the rest of the girls looked even more confused. yet most of them were still paying attention to your conversation.

“you what?!” sasha exclaimed, spilling some of her drink on the floor. she paused for a few seconds to gather her thoughts, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose: “my god, you guys are hopeless!”

“hey, i did sleep in his bed!” you protested, trying to diminish her disbelief like this was some kind of big achievement.

“yeah, without him!”

you knew she would’ve been shaking you by the shoulders right now, if her hand wasn’t busy holding her drink: “y/n i swear, if your tongue’s not down his throat by the end of the night…”

a couple of girls clapped and shouted their approval behind her, and you laughed at this unexpected surge of solidarity. 

“i don’t know about that,” you still confessed to a certain doubt, “i’m drunk, i’m tired, my feet hurt…”

“ok now you’re just being ridiculous,” sasha crossed her arms.

the sound of toilets being flushed drowned out the end of her sentence.

“well,” the girl who was just getting out of the restroom joined your conversation, “just know that if you don’t shoot your shot with him… i probably will.”

everyone turned their head in her direction. you had no idea how much she meant it, but the eventuality of her being 100% serious was just the kind of boost you needed.

“ok fine,” you replied, and sasha thanked the newcomer for her intervention, “guess i better head back there before another girl gets the same idea as you.”

“FINALLY!” sasha raised her hands to the sky as she followed you back inside.

but like most things when it came to jean, it was easier said than done.

at least you knew where to meet him; near the bar area where he was having a discussion with connie and, oddly enough, eren.

“…because the more money we make,” you heard jean practically yell at connie, whose lips were covered in lipstick stains, “the less value it fucking has!”

“but who said that?!” connie replied, slamming his hand on the counter with every word.

“it just makes sense!” eren backed jean’s statement, and you couldn’t believe they were actually agreeing on something.

sasha grumbled something next to you, but not loud enough to be heard over the music.

“make way, nerds,” she said, louder this time, “we’re drunk and we wanna sit down”.

turning around towards the two of you, eren and jean were the quickest to give up their seats, and sasha made sure you wouldn’t sit down on eren’s.

“so… i was right. you are drunk,” jean teased you as you rested your elbows on the counter.

“nope, still tipsy” you answered, forehead resting against your palms.

eren, who had left connie to talk with sasha, decided to check up on you as well. after all, you and him had barely talked all evening.

“you don’t look too good. wanna leave? i can ask armin to bring you home,” he offered, already pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“no!” sasha snatched the device out of his hands, “i mean, no, don’t wake armin up! jean can bring her home safe, right?”

the tone she had employee it was practically a rhetorical question.

“uh- yeah of course,” he replied, before addressing you directly: “are you ok with that?”

you nodded with a grateful smile, and jean helped you off the stool under eren’s suspicious gaze. but sasha didn’t let him time to question any of this, and pulled him and connie towards the most agitated part of the crowd.

“you don’t have to do this,” you told him as he led you to the cloakroom, wanting to make sure sasha and you hadn’t cornered him into leaving the party.

“don’t worry,” he smiled - more to himself than to you, keeping you steady by linking his arm with yours, “i'll let you know when i won’t feel like spending time with you.”

the fresh air of the many streets which led you to your apartment was probably the best remedy for the state in which you had left the club.

“let me know if you need to throw up,” jean told you after a few minutes of walking awfully slowly. you were just leaving the bars area, and every street was more empty than the previous one, “i wanna have time to take my jacket back.”

“you’re an asshole,” you replied, and pulled up the zipper of the said jacket almost defiantly, “i told you, i’m feeling fine.”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘just a bit tipsy’, i’ve heard that one before,” he chuckled, his right hand playing with the handle of your purse.

you shoved your hands in his pockets, feeling his keys in the left and his wallet in the right. seemed like he trusted you enough not to keep them with him.

his jacket was keeping you warmer than any of yours could have. and although he hadn’t even put it on when you had left the club, it was already covered in his smell; and you really didn’t mean for your lips to stretch into such an obvious smile when you first noticed it.

you just couldn’t help but think back to that time in porco’s bathroom, where you’d had the silly thought of asking him what kind of cologne he was wearing. but it didn’t seem so silly anymore. after all, you were friends now.

so you did ask him, and the question made him raise his eyebrows in surprise:

“well wouldn’t you like to know,” he flicked your temple with two fingers.

“ok nevermind...” you sighed, swaying to your right to bump into his arm. “you’re annoying. go home, i’ll walk myself to my apartment.”

“yeah right,” he scoffed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to trap you against his side, “you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

of course you didn’t put up any kind of fight against his statement. going home without him would be a pretty lame way to end your evening now that you had done most of the work.

but right now, as you rested your cheek against his arm, there was no need to hold anyone back. only an idiot would have doubts on how much the two of you were happy to be here, sharing your warmth in the cold and gloomy streets of your neighborhood.

“you were popular with some girls at the club, y’know?” you blurted out as you reached the last street, at the end of which you could make out the silhouette of your building.

his fingertips were slowly tracing the hem of his own jacket, along the slope of your shoulder. the shivers were back, but a different kind.

“oh yeah?” he inquired, an unconcealed smile in his voice, “...including you?”

you laughed, a quiet laugh that was much less audible than the satisfied sigh that followed: “well wouldn’t you like to know...”.

“good answer,” he admitted defeatedly.

the rest of the walk was done in silence. nothing awkward, the kind of silence which proved that each other’s presence was more than enough to feel at ease. 

it’s only when you reached the entrance door of your building that he let go of your shoulder, not because he needed to rummage through your purse to get your keys (he let you do that, his mother had always told him not to look into a girl’s bag, or anyone’s bag for that matter), but because he believed that’s where you would part ways.

yet when you finally opened the door, after fumbling with the key for a few seconds, it seemed natural for you to hold it for him until he’d join you inside.

but little did you know he was internally panicking at the thought that maybe he was imposing himself on you. that maybe you hadn’t planned on even letting him inside the building, and that you had felt forced to do so because he didn’t seem ready to leave.

“you’re spending the night, right?” you asked as you carefully closed the door.

he tried his best not to look too surprised, or too relieved, by that question.

“sure” he replied as nonchalantly as he could, and followed you towards the first flight of stairs.

no other words were spoken until you had entered your own apartment and quietly closed the door behind him. you respected your neighbor’s sleep, but most of all, you feared waking armin up in the middle of his night. especially in this situation.

“make yourself at home,” you told jean as you took his jacket off.

these were words that sasha had already told him when talking about your apartment; but sasha was sasha, and you were you. the difference was significant. 

you knew niccolo had left some clothes at your place last week, they could do the job for one night. as for a spare toothbrush, mikasa had bought a pack of three last month. you were sure at least one of them had never been used. and when it came to the bed, well... yours was more than big enough.

but these were solutions to practical details. details you liked to focus on to avoid thinking about the obvious tension in the air.

you kept thinking about that discussion in the girls bathroom. and obviously you didn’t want sasha to make a scandal about anything. but you also had much less alcohol in your system, and it was harder to be brave when jean himself was now heading towards your own bathroom to get changed.

pacing back and forth in the kitchen, you had been staring at the bottom of your glass of water for a few minutes - trying to think about what was supposed to happen now - when he got out of the said bathroom, wearing niccolo’s t-shirt and sweatpants.

“do they fit?” you asked.

“the t-shirt’s a bit tight but i think i’ll survive,” he replied, tugging at the bottom of it.

“here” you handed him the other glass of water as you sat on the counter, which probably looked less weird than walking in circles like you were plotting something.

he thanked you, and for a few seconds the only thing you did was drink in your respective glasses. that silence, if you had been asked to rank it, could be considered a bit more awkward than the previous one.

“dior,” he suddenly blurted out, his glass still half full, “the cologne, i think it’s dior. but i don’t remember the name.”

“got it,” you let out a chuckle, and its lightheartedness relieved both of you of the ongoing awkwardness. he had make an effort, it was time for you to return the favor: “and since we’re answering each other’s questions... yes, it included me. i was one of these girls at the club.”

he smiled, the kind of smile that showed your answer was just the one he had expected. or at least, hoped for.

his glass still wasn’t empty when he leaned forward to put it on the counter, right next to you. both of his hands now laying flat on the wooden surface, you were feeling your breath getting shorter.

his eyes, a tiny bit darker in this light, looked right into yours; and you wondered if the two of you had ever been able to hold an eye contact for so long.

“can i kiss you?”

the dreaded question. yet, against all odds, your body did not tense nor froze like you thought it would. if anything, you hadn’t felt so relaxed in quite some time. in fact you felt so light that your relief couldn’t translate into anything but the happiest of smiles.

“you better,” you finally answered, your hands meeting behind his neck as he closed the gap between your lips.

you could feel the warmth of his palms pressing on your lower back as he pulled you closer to him, until you had no choice but to get off the counter. at this point you didn’t even know if you were standing up on your own, or if your body had gone completely limb and was letting his arms keep you on your feet.

it seemed like you were barely touching the floor as he led the way to your room, with giddy smiles between each kiss. his hands were everywhere, like he couldn’t hold enough of you.

your bedroom door was closed with a kick of your foot, which would have made you trip on your carpet, had jean’s arms not been holding you so tight. i’m the end, you managed to reach your bed without too much trouble.

“is something wrong?” you asked when his lips suddenly stopped moving against yours as you sat down on the bed.

“no, nothing,” he replied, immediately taking his eyes off of the wall he was staring at. it seemed to have slipped your mind that, right behind you, the sketch he had given you a couple of days ago was pinned on the wall, sticking out amongst printed pictures of your friends. but his surprise turned into something softer when his eyes met yours again, “nothing’s wrong”.

how could anything be wrong now that he could finally treat you like he had wanted to for the past month?

his lips had already touched your forehead, your shoulder, and maybe even the back of your hand. but they had never been as warm as they were now, back to moving in perfect sync with yours, with just enough vigor to make you lie back on the bed.

propped on an elbow, he brought a hand to your cheek, which took your mind off of anything other than how soft his fingers felt against your jaw. with the heel his palm, he tilted your chin up, making your lips part with his.

he didn’t say anything, only taking in the sight in front of him, one that he had begun to think he would never get to see.

“took you long enough”, you broke the silence (the least awkward of all, this time), with an air of false impatience.

his lips brushed against yours when they stretched in a smile.

“yeah well, it’s not my fault pretty girls intimidate me” he replied, leaving a quick kiss on your lips.

your fingers tangled in his hair - something you had often caught yourself thinking about when you were studying together - you brought him closer again, muffling the laugh that escaped your lips. his heart squeezed with affection.

you knew sasha would be thrilled to hear that she wouldn’t have to make a scandal of any kind. but sasha, and everything else that did not concern the present moment, were thoughts for later.

they were thoughts for the morning, when the sun would have made you regret not to have closed your blinds, and jean would let you hide your face in the warm curves of his neck. or thoughts for when you would be fully awake, when he would once again ask if he could kiss you, and you’d tell him that maybe he didn’t need to ask for permission anymore.

REBLOGS/FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED <3

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[ronoken]

So, who wants a publishing story?

No one?

…Tough.

To preface, this was prompted by a post I saw about always making sure you read a contract before signing it. I wholeheartedly agree.

So, I write books. A roundabout result of writing books is I occasionally get to speak at conventions. When I do speak at conventions (which hasn’t been for a year. Thanks, covid), a standard question I get asked is about the benefits of self-publishing versus getting a contract. And yes, I fully realize that everyone’s experience in this is different, and I get that. Here’s mine.

So, several years ago, I wrote a book. I put a solid year into it and did numerous rewrites, edits, etc. with three wonderful editors and boom. Book. Done. And then, like many who are impatient or who don’t want to run the risk of rejection, I self-published my first novel.

And to my great shock, I actually sold some copies.

Quick aside. I’m not famous. At. Fucking. All. Some is not millions. Some is several thousand at best. And that’s over YEARS. I am not widely known and I do not claim to be. At all.

So yeah, like, I didn’t sell a million or anything, but I was moving over 100 copies a month when I was putting in the marketing work. Not too shabby. I was hustling on Twitter, FB marketing, Google ad marketing, working the review sites, doing interviews, everything I could. And it actually worked. I can honestly say the number of copies I moved a month directly correlated with how hard I pushed. And when I pushed, I pushed damn hard. I even got to a point where a reviewer who became an editor for DC would routinely provide public reviews for my books, and I was doing a superhero series. Not gonna lie- it was fucking rad.

Anyway, after a couple years of doing this, putting out a second novel which sold okay, a bunch of novellas, and so on, I received an offer out of the blue to have my work officially picked up. For realsies.

Admittedly, I was over the moon about this. I was being contacted by an unsolicited source! AND THEY HAD MONEY!

Now, my work wasn’t Shakespeare. I knew that. They did, too. They offered me a nice little starting sum. Not a lot, but holy shit it was FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS UP FRONT. One of my editors reads my Tumblr and I don’t think I’ve ever told them how much it was. It was 5k. To start. Not a lot, publishing-wise, but that’s because the work was already done. See, most publishers will give you more, but the catch is it’s considered a down payment for more books in a series. They pay you to write future novels, and then they expect you to pay it back. I already had a shit ton of content out, so I essentially skipped that step. Which tells me that publishers really don’t expect to have to actually pay you much, but that’s another post.

To my editor- sorry I never said the exact amount. It felt weird, but it’s been years, so it’s not as weird? I dunno. That logic train made sense as I was writing this.

So, 5k upfront, and then 50% of all sales thereafter, and they would handle EVERYTHING. Marketing, scheduling tours, covers, putting me in stores, the lot. Considering how much time, money, and effort these things took, this was not a terrible deal, but there was a catch.

My story would officially no longer be mine.

Oh, my name would be on it, and I’d write it, but from there on out, the publishing house would have 100% control over how it was marketed, where it went, and so on. If they wanted to option it, I would have zero say and zero rights, meaning they could take it and do fuck-all, and I would be left with nothing. Per the contract, they could even go so far as to issue me a cease and desist on my own work and hire a new person to take over. I was signing away everything in my universe if I said yes.

So, despite the allure of having things offered to me like a legit marketing team, book tours, and money (such as it was), I said no thank you.

Now, it didn’t hurt that I’d already made 5k in sales by that point. I knew my worth and how to push to keep it that way, if I so chose. Also, it helped that I was in an okay place when that offer came in. I could look at it and say, “well, that sure would be nice, but I don’t need it.” A lot of talented writers aren’t in that space, and the offer of several months rent or money for food as well as REALLY-REAL PUBLISHING can be hella tempting. And I get it, for some folks, the deals work out alright. And for some they don’t. And I sure as Hell am not going to judge. Seriously, I still have vivid nightmares about working 60+ hours a week and not being able to afford baby formula. Hell, if they had offered that to me just one year earlier, I would have been forced to take it. At that stage of life, 5k would have been life changing. I was just starting to hit the OK section of life, and only barely. Money when you need it is fucking awesome, and sometimes, you take what you can get.

But if you are a writer? And you’re in a place where it’s not life and death? Read the damn contract. Every single time. Make good and sure you know what you’re getting into and ask yourself, is it worth it to you? If it is, awesome. Again, not gonna judge, and every situation is different.

In my specific case though, it was choosing a nice bit of cash over something I had slaved for years over. I couldn’t do it. I still can’t. It’s the one property I’ll never let go of because when I wrote it, I didn’t even know if I could write a book. It proved to me that yes, I really could, and that was worth more than I can put into words.

TLDR: Read your contracts. Make choices good for you. Some things are worth more than money.

[outerbankies]

tis the damn season — john b routledge

request: Hello! I adore you writing especially ur new light series and ur John b pieces!! I was wondering if both or maybe one of these prompts inspired anything with John b?? Because I’d love to request “i know it’s late, but i just needed someone and. i guess you always answer when i call.” and or “I’m never gonna let you go”

pairing: john b x reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of divorce

a/n: literally so sorry to the anon that requested this over the summer, but it’s here now! sincerely hope you stuck around long enough to see it. enjoyyy. and special s/o to my bestie and fellow john b worshipper, @cognacdelights, who also might be the only person to read this fic. love u more than i love john b in the suzy pancakes sweater <3

my writing

You told yourself that you really, really had no other choice.

Every single phone contact that you scrolled past on your phone screen seemed like a relic of a past life. You didn’t even leave the Outer Banks that long ago—just a little over four months back at this point. But it felt different.

In your absence to attend college, a whole ocean plus a few states away on the mainland, the warm, summer sunshine you grew up in had transformed into the harsher cold that always came around with this time of year—the twinkly lights that lit up every other house in your neighborhood, the trees that had long ago lost their leaves to the ground, and of course, the swanky Figure 8 Christmas parties your parents weaseled your family into.

It seemed to get easier and easier for them with every coming year. There was less posturing and pretending like they were Figure 8 insiders, replaced slowly by a timid sense of belonging. Until they were so close—so close to the life that they had always wanted.

Your older brother, Austin, wasn’t around to see them get that close before it all fell apart; he’d left to the mainland five years before you. At 18, he’d ruffled your hair at the ferry dock, whispered the most sincere “good luck” you’d ever heard in your own 13 years, and left you alone with only a promise to always be a phone call away.

Five years alone with your mom and dad as the sole object of their aspirations, and you eagerly followed Austin’s path out of the OBX. And it was perfect. You were finally getting away from the suffocating expectations; your parents, too wrapped up in themselves, just saw it as you abiding by their wishes. Go off to a college good enough for us to tell our friends about, just not one as good—or as expensive—as the ones they send their kids to. They didn’t have enough sense to realize you had no intention to ever really come back one day, much like your brother.

So, although you still couldn’t even begin to process what they’d just told you, you decided that maybe that could why they decided now was the best time for them to split up. Your dad was moving in with the other woman—your mom, probably back to the mainland. Where you fit into that, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you wanted to.

You bypassed all of the names in your phone that felt like they meant nothing to you anymore, some stinging more than others. The fake friends from the well-off side of the island, the ones you barely knew outside of the glitzy events your parents forced you into attending, who you could feel were always secretly looking down on you and your hair and your clothes, who you didn’t keep in contact with beyond a few Snapchats during move-in week. And the real friends, closer to you in zip code and in heart, who understood every part of you and never judged, who you couldn’t reach out to, not after the break-up where they (understandably) took the other side.

You realized belatedly that the frantic scrolling while you shivered in the cold outside of your parents’ home was pointless. The only name you knew you could call right then still sat untouched in your “Favorites” folder, at the very top, sandwiched between your brother and your roommate at college.

You had nothing to do but count the rings, all three of them. He picked up halfway through the fourth.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Hi, John B.”

“Uh… hi? Y/n?”

You could perfectly picture the crease in between his furrowed eyebrows. It was the one he got when he’d talk about his dad, or whenever he was particularly worried about JJ. The one he willed away when you told him you were going to college in Texas so he could start congratulating you instead.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you clarified. “Sorry to just… call like this, um. I know it’s been a minute.”

“Yeah, uh—a minute,” he parroted significantly, like he was letting you get away with something. “What’s up?”

You wondered briefly if you could stomach lying to him, something you’d never fully mastered.

There was no point.

“My parents are divorcing. They just told me.”

A sharp intake of breath, and then, “oh, shit, Y/n/n—”

“John B, I just can’t be here right now. I know it’s late, but I just needed someone, and I guess… you always answer when I call.” Your voice broke on the last syllable, the tears you’d been keeping at bay for the past hour finally surfacing when you heard your nickname fall off of his lips.

You heard the boy on the other side of the phone shuffle around momentarily, the sound of his car keys jangling in the distance. “Is that where you are right now? Your parents’ place?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Sit tight.”

—

The Twinkie puttered down your street only ten minutes later. You knew John B would speed, which you always hated. But in this instance, you really wished he wouldn’t, just so you could have more time to think about how you were going to handle sitting in your ex-boyfriend’s car.

He got out as soon as he pulled over, pacing around the front of the van and up to you so quickly that you were unable to properly anticipate it, almost taking a step back when he’s within your vicinity.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

There was no loving reunion—John B didn’t open his arms and you didn’t jump into them. But he looked you over a few times, hands shoved deep into his pockets while he made sure you were okay. And then he wordlessly held a hand out for your bag, placing it in the backseat of the van and getting back into the driver’s seat. You had to tug on the door handle a few times, it always used to get stuck.

Once you were both settled, he puffed out a slow breath, the brown curls hanging in his face moving slightly with the motion. “So, am I taking you to Jenna’s? Or…”

“Um, no,” you sighed, biting your lip. “We don’t really—we’re not really friends, I’d say.”

He didn’t seem surprised by that, instead focused on navigating out of your neighborhood with practiced ease, instinctively heading out of the southern end, toward the Cut. “Okay. Well, what about Celia’s?”

You didn’t answer that time, knowing he could figure it out.

For all the times you ditched John B and his friends to hang out with the people your parents thought you ought to, he had to deal with your lamenting. And he did it gladly, telling you that you’d be alright and he’d be waiting for you at The Chateau or The Wreck after. Or texting you silly things the entire time you were apart. (‘any little preppy rich boys at that party? you gonna leave me for one of them?’ or ‘JJ asked you to swipe some top shelf and i don’t condone stealing… but i wouldn’t be mad.’ or ‘1 more hour of kook bullshit and then we can finish that movie! can I still pick you up?’)

John B never fit into that part of your life, the part your parents were trying to make your entire life. But he didn’t care, because he could tell you didn’t. Which is why every time you replayed your break-up in your head, you couldn’t believe you ever thought it’d be easy.

“Y/n/n?”

“Sorry, sorry. What?” you stammered, shaking your head where you looked out the window. “Um, no. Not Celia’s. You can just…”

“What about Austin? Is he home?” he asked, looking over at you when he stopped at a traffic light.

Your brother never met John B—how would he? But Austin still liked him based on what you told him, or the few times he’d get to say hello in the background when you were on the phone together. “No, he doesn’t come home anymore.”

“Right, sorry,” John B apologized.

“It’s fine,” you waved him off. “Got to see him over Thanksgiving, he flew me up to Connecticut. It was nice, he’s practically engaged to that girl he met at school.”

A tiny smile appeared on your ex-boyfriend’s face, and he nodded. He always knew how much you loved your brother. “That’s good. I had been wondering if you came home for that or not. Didn’t hear from you, so I just assumed you didn’t. Or that you didn’t want to see me, or… yeah.”

The smile left his face as quickly as it appeared, and you cleared your throat. “Yeah, um. Anyway, I was just thinking, like—you know that one motel? Where we gave JJ’s dad a ride when they shut off the water at their house?”

“Yeah? What about it?” John B asked.

“Well I checked, and I can’t book a ferry out until tomorrow morning anyway, so. Figured that could do for the night,” you suggested, already looking it up on your phone.

“Wait, hang on—you mean you wanna stay there?”

“Yes?”

“No.”

“What?”

He barked out a cynical laugh and shook his head. “Do you even know what kind of people stay in that place? People like Luke. You’re not staying there.”

“John B, I don’t really have anywhere else.”

“Well, you’re not staying at that glorified crack den.”

“Well, it’s either that or the benches at the ferry dock, John B,” you snapped. “Unless you have any brilliant ideas of where I can stay on Christmas fucking Eve, when my parents are splitting up and both of them want me to choose a side, my brother doesn’t even bother coming home anymore, I hate half of my friends, and the other half hate me, and I ruined everything with my boyfriend before I left—fuck.”

“I’m taking you home.”

That just made you angrier, and you wiped at your tears in frustration. “I can’t go back there.”

“Not your home. Mine.”

—

Halfway through the familiar drive between your houses, John B broke the silence in the car to ask if you had eaten dinner yet. At your negative reply, he sighed.

“I don’t really have any food at home.”

Of course he didn’t. He and JJ were always forgetting to grocery shop, bumming meals at their jobs or their friend’s houses more often than not. When you were his girlfriend, you took it upon yourself to worry about him like a good girlfriend should. But that was one thing about the break-up that really did surprise you—how hard it was to stop caring about someone you loved for so long but don’t speak to anymore.

“I should be fine until tomorrow. I can eat when I get to Chapel Hill.”

“You need to eat.”

“John B, everything is closed.”

“I know,” he muttered, tapping his lips with his fingers before he snapped them. “I have an idea, though. You might hate it.”

You didn’t know what that meant until you ended up completely stuck to your spot in the car as he pulled up to The Wreck. He ignored your protests, your head shakes and pleas of desperation, getting out of the car and already walking toward the restaurant.

“C’mon,” he called, turning to look back at you as he approached the front ramp. When you didn’t move, he tossed his head back and sighed, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m serious, Y/n/n.”

You slammed the car door shut forcefully, scowling as you hesitantly followed him. “You know, she probably won’t even serve me.”

John B rolled his eyes. “Quit that. She will.”

But there was a very strong chance she wouldn’t. And Kiara would’ve had every reason not to.

Half the heart-break of leaving John B behind was that you lost all of your closest friends along with him. Even Kie, who you knew before you knew John B, who introduced you to him in the first place.

You and Pope had initially been stoked about being accepted into the same college, the life-changing move made easier by the promise of a friendly face. Nowadays, you saw him around campus occasionally, getting nothing but a blank expression in return, all of the plans you made to book flights home together and have your friends come visit you both vanishing in an instant once you broke his best friend’s heart.

And you hoped if nothing else, literally nothing else, could go right today, that you at least wouldn’t have to encounter JJ when you eventually got back to the Chateau tonight. The mutual protection he and John B had over each other was deep, you’d always known that.

You still couldn’t believe you’d be waking up on Christmas morning in the Chateau, probably shivering from the lack of heat, several cricks in your neck and back from the pull out sofa—the one you stopped being used to once you started sharing John B’s bed instead.

John B wasted no time knocking on the front door of the closed restaurant, shut down earlier than normal, presumably for the holiday. But the lights were still on, and you saw Mr. Carrera bustling around behind the counter.

Kiara smiled when she saw John B waiting outside, pulling the door open without hesitation.

“Come to bum some fries again?” she joked.

“Yeah, but, uh, not just for me,” he said awkwardly, his hand threading through the hair at the back of his head. That was the first time she saw you, standing before two of the best friends you ever had and feeling so small.

“Y/n,” she blurted, surprised at first. Then she immediately turned back to John B. Your heart might as well have been ripped out of your chest for the second time that day when you watched her ask if he was okay.

“Yeah, just helping her out. Can we come in?”

If Kie held as much contempt for you as she ought to, and as she’d been acting like did, she didn’t let it show as soon as the two of you were let inside the Wreck, once again sheltered from the cold. John B’s hand on your back guided you to the table you always sat at with your friends; you noticed that you didn’t even jump at the touch. Maybe the familiarity of the car and the restaurant had gotten to your head at some point today, the feelings of safety and familiarity and home settling deep into your bones. Because as you sat across from John B like you had so many times before, it’s almost like nothing changed. Kiara brings you both coffee, settling the ceramic bowl filled with mini creamers in front of you—she knew John B liked his coffee black and you didn’t—before promising to go scrounge up some leftovers for you both.

With nothing to do but wait in the silence, hands wrapped around the warmth of the coffee mug you hadn’t yet brought to your lips, you looked at the Christmas decorations strung up around the restaurant. They kept the tradition of the staff stockings hanging above the counter. Mr. Carerra used to roll his eyes every year that his daughter’s friends hung up their own, considering they cost the restaurant more money than you ever brought it in. But he always left them up, and you saw where Pope, JJ, and John B stuck their’s up next to Kie’s. You found yourself wondering what they did with yours.

John B followed your vision, smiling at the decorations and then looking back toward you knowingly. “It’s still in storage.”

“It is?” you asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. We didn’t just throw it away.”

“Right.” You finally poured some cream into your coffee at that, needing something to do with your hands so you could focus on anything but the doleful brown eyes staring into your soul from across the table.

“How’s school been going?”

You blinked a few times at the abrupt topic change, then shook your head. “Fine, um. My classes were hard this semester, but. You know, I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

John B nodded and dropped his eyes to his own coffee, which gave you a second to feel like you could breathe. But it didn’t last long. “Is it… what you wanted?”

“Yes?” You asked yourself. “I think so. My roommate kind of sucked, I switched to another room. My new one is better… um. I thought I missed it here, more than I thought I would, but… debating that now, I guess.”

Kie returned briefly to set some soup in front of you, and you swore you caught the slightest quirk in her lips. John B looked at you expectantly until you slowly started eating, then gave you a few minutes of silence.

“What happened with your parents, Y/n/n?” You abruptly pushed your bowl away, appetite effectively gone, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about that. I just… I ran into them a few times when you were gone. They seemed perfect as ever.”

“Yeah, well, that’s a little naive, isn’t it?” Your words were directed at him, but you can’t help but wonder if you were actually asking yourself. “Nothing was ever how it seemed with them.”

“Hm,” he hummed, fingers drumming against the table. “That’s the truth.”

Your stomach twisted, knowing exactly what he was referring to, the exact words you threw at him when you left him here. “I think my dad cheated.”

“Shit.”

“I don’t know who with. I’m sure it’ll be public knowledge soon,” you said, hiding your face in your hands, your elbows dug into the enamel on the table in front of you. “Fuck. I don’t even know if Austin knows. I should call him.”

“Things are gonna be okay.”

You just shook your head, leaning back in your booth. “It’s like… this is my home. And it’s like I have no reason to come back here anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, still speaking in a gentler tone. Gentler than you deserved. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You sat up straighter. “What?”

“I thought you just—like, you wanted to run away from here and never look back. You always said that. And then you got into college and just decided to let go of everything here, because you hated it so much,” he explained. “I guess all that kept you coming here was them, right?”

“John B, no… that was never it.”

“Then why did you—fuck,” he breathed. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” you rushed. Your hand shot out to cover his, which kept him rooted to his seat. “That wasn’t it. You weren’t it. It was them.”

He rolled his eyes. When he pulled his hand back from your touch to stand up, the table top felt ice-cold underneath your fingertips. You looked up at him helplessly. “Yeah, I know, I was there when you dumped me.”

“John B—”

“Are you done eating? We need to let Kie’s parents close up.”

You stacked your bowls together quickly, pushing them toward the end of the table along with the mugs before you stood to follow him, hot on his heels. Your hand still stung from his earlier rejection, so you didn’t reach out to grab him again, even though you desperately wanted to. “Wait, can you just—”

“I am not—” John B started, whirling on you once the two of you made it outside, nostrils flaring in anger as he assessed you “—having this conversation in the middle of The Wreck. Get back in the car before I change my mind about letting you crash.”

—

“I’m never gonna let you go. You know that, right? I’m never gonna be able to,” he said, that day back at the Chateau, when you showed up to break his heart, and yours too. He threw his hands up in indignation, his mouth permanently hanging open. “Not after everything, after we planned our lives—”

“John B, please,” you cried. “It doesn’t have to be this hard.”

“What are you even saying right now? Of course it doesn’t—we don’t have to break up.” He followed you to your car, shutting your door as soon as you tried to open it. “Why are you doing this right now?”

“Because,” you breathed, refusing to face him, hot tears still slipping down your cheeks in a steady stream. “It’s not—I’m going to school, and I need to focus, John B. If I ever want to make my parents proud, I can’t… I can’t be distracted. I can’t be with you anymore.”

John B’s hand slipped from the door in his shock, giving you the right opportunity to finally slip inside, to put that physical barrier in between the two of you. Not that you needed it.

He staggered backward in the grass, your words clearly enough to knock him off-kilter. You started up your car with shaky hands, letting yourself look over at him one last time. You didn’t expect to find your now ex-boyfriend near tears, a full foot or two away from you.

It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, caused you to mouth a helpless, final ‘I’m sorry’ before peeling out of there as fast as you ever had. No kiss through the window, no final wave goodbye from his front porch, just that final look of betrayal burned into your mind for the last several months.

—

The Chateau was literally completely decked out in Christmas lights.

They were a bit like everything else at The Chateau, a little old and broken, but charming anyway—you spotted multiple strands that were either half-dark or completely dark, but you could tell there was a ton of effort exerted by the boys that lived there.

“I like the lights,” you commented. “Real cute.”

“That was all JJ,” John B said. He pulled your bag out of the back for you, slinging it over his shoulder before he got out. You didn’t get out of the car immediately, but he didn’t stop for you this time. He’d figured out over the course of the night that you’d follow him anywhere, eventually. “He works at water and power now, so we get a discount on the bill.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Is he home?” you asked as you trailed a few lengths behind him. The half-rotted wood of the porch felt familiar under your sneakers. So familiar it was a little disconcerting, and you paused for a second.

John B stood in the doorway, one arm holding the screen door open for you. “No. C’mon, I wanna get the heater running.”

You raised your eyebrows. “It works now?”

He rolled his eyes as you made no move to come inside. “Yes, it works now. I’d been working on it over the summer, when we… yeah.”

“Right.”

He sighed, letting out a groan of frustration when you still didn’t move. “You’re like a fuckin’ stray cat right now, Y/n/n. Do you need me to get on my knees with a handful of kibble to get you to trust me?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a little surprised when your lips quirked up slightly before you could help it. “I’m coming in. Sorry.”

His smiles matched yours, and flecks of mischief dotted his brown eyes. “‘Cause I can still take you to that motel.”

“You said you wouldn’t let me stay there.”

“Figured I’d drop you off and stay parked outside, see how long you’d actually last,” he joked, locking the door once you were inside.

The joke fell flat once you set foot inside The Chateau again.

John B and JJ had graduated from high school like the rest of you (barely, for both of them—a combination of them copying the other three of your assignments and indifferent teachers who weren’t being paid enough to stomach dealing with their antics any longer), but they were still living like overgrown toddlers with fake IDs. Empty 30-rack boxes teetered near the garbage can, the sink was filled with dishes, parking citations were strewn across the table.

John B used to clean up before you came over, going so far as to make you sit on the front porch and talk with Kie while you heard him running around with a trash bag, barking orders at JJ, who was usually hungover.

You should’ve told John B to skip the food, just take you straight here, because your stomach churned as every item your eyes swept over caused you to recall a new memory made here—good ones and bad.

“Alright. Should be warmer in here soon,” John B said as he reappeared in the living room. He must have ran off to turn the heater on, but you missed him even slipping out of the room. Everything about this house was so him, he didn’t even need to be in the room for you to feel his presence all around you. You watched as his eyes trailed over your face before that tiny smile came back. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Please.”

—

“You fucker! I came home and scoured my old bedroom for this thing. I was positive it got left behind when I was packing.”

The old sweatshirt John B chucked at your face (“No, this is good actually—been meaning to clear your shit out of here,” he teased, a slightly drunken cheshire cat smile pulling on his pink lips) no longer smelled like the detergent your mom used or the perfume you used to wear in high school. Instead, it smelled like it’d been shoved to the bottom of John B’s wardrobe for months, the one with a broken leg that was partially held up by a stack of books with no other use.

“You left it here!” he cried, grabbing two fresh beers while you passed him to change in the bathroom. “Was I supposed to have Pope pass it on or something?”

“S’true,” you sighed, coming back out once your hair was tied up. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Worked out in the end. Knew I’d have something for you to wear.”

“I’m only a little surprised you didn’t burn it in the front yard.”

“Nope,” he shook his head, but stopped to raise his eyebrows in approval when you caught the beer he lobbed at you. “Just that one bandana you bought me.”

“No, really?” you said, immediately passing him back the beer when you realized he hadn’t opened it for you. “I bought that on the mainland for you.”

“Yeah, well.” He handed you your now-opened can, settling back in where you’d been sitting across from each other on the couch before he popped the tab on his own. “JJ’s idea. There was a lot of Jack Daniels involved.”

“Mm,” you hummed, tapping your nails on the side of the can. “I guess I deserved that.”

“What about you? Destruct any of my property?” he challenged.

Your response was immediate. “No.”

“No?”

“No, I mean…” You didn’t do anything wrong. “I don’t know. I don’t even think I had anything notable.”

“Untrue,” he argued immediately. “My white Suzy Pancakes sweater.”

Your gaze flicked down his body, and you resisted the urge to peak at the way his shorts had ridden up on his thighs when he sat back down, just to make sure you correctly remembered his current attire. “You’re literally wearing it right now.”

He shook his head. “I bought another one. You know I loved that sweatshirt.”

“Sorry,” you winced. “I’m sure I can dig it up before I go.”

You withheld the fact that you knew exactly where it was, in a box on the top shelf of your closet. You wore it a few times after the break-up, but eventually the memories became too much for you to handle. You couldn’t even look at it anymore without thinking of the chilly night he gave it to you, one of the first times you hung out with Kie and the friends she’d been telling you about.

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “You’ve officially adopted it now. I can draw up some paperwork, if you want.”

“Shut up,” you giggled, kicking him in the side of his thigh where you’re pressed together under an old, tattered blanket. He let you take most of it.

Silence settled over the room for a little after that, the two of you just staring at each other. The preposterousness of the entire night hits you then, for some reason, and you can’t help but start giggling. John B just looked on in confusion, still smiling at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I just can’t believe I’m sleeping at my ex-boyfriend’s house on Christmas Eve because my parents are divorcing. That has to be a fucking record for Christmas-in-your-hometown cliches.”

He grinned, tilting his head to the side as he considered your claim. “A full-fledged Hallmark movie.”

That forced a laugh out of you. “How do you even know—”

“Like you didn’t make me watch a million of them with you last year.”

You rolled your eyes in good fun, sipped some of the cheap beer (a taste more comforting than you’d ever admit), then set your can down on the coffee table in front of you two. “Still. Not one of them taught me what to do in this situation.”

“I’m as clueless as you are,” he shrugged, then nudged his foot into the side of your leg. “But, hey. I’m sorry for snapping on you at the restaurant. I know the timing is shit, and you have a million other things to focus on right now.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, really—I don’t even… I don’t even know what I should be focusing on. And I’m sorry for putting you out like this. I know it can’t be easy.”

He shook his head, taking another long swig. “No worries. Seriously. You know that, Y/n/n.”

You surprised yourself with an immediate nod. “I know.”

He raised his eyebrows, like he expected you to continue, but you didn’t. Your fingers twitched to not reach for your beer can so you could have something to do with your hands. “Y/n?”

“I should get some sleep,” you decided, pretending to look at the time on your phone. “I think I might drop by my parents’ in the morning before I go.”

The boy across from you simply nodded in silence, the leg that had been pressing into yours shifting away as he made to stand up.

“Okay, um. And you’re sure the ferry runs on Christmas?”

“Apparently, I checked earlier,” you said, not making any move to lay down flat on the couch. He lingered by the side of it, practically hovering over you with an inquisitive stare.

“Right. And you’re going back to Texas after that?”

“Dorms are closed. I was just gonna call Austin in the morning.”

“Y/n/n,” he tutted, his tone so soft it made your stomach flip.

“I can figure it out once I’m in Chapel Hill,” you promised. “I think I really just need to be off this island right now.”

He smiled, but it was sad because of what you said. He ruffled your hair with one hand, reaching down and tucking a stray strand behind your ear. He seemingly moved on muscle memory, and you followed suit as his hand continued down the side of your face, then slowed to a stop under your jaw. Neither of you moved for a second. “Just don’t like the idea of sending you off when you don’t know where you’re going yet. Especially because I can tell your judgment skills are seriously lacking after hearing your original plans for the night.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” you said, looking down again. But his hand on your jaw was firm, and you looked back up at him when he didn’t let your chin drop.

The glint in his eye made you nervous. “Seriously, didn’t you go to college to get smarter?”

You batted his hand away, finally breaking eye contact. His joke, coupled with the look in his eye and the feel of his palm on your face, fell remarkably flat. “I really don’t think I could get much stupider after the way I decided to leave things here.”

But John B persisted even after your statement, his hand immediately back under your chin, forcing you took at him again. He smiled, but it was still sad. “Y’know, after all this time, sometimes I still don’t get you.”

“Sometimes, I think you’re the only person that does. Did.”

He sat down on the couch at that, substantially closer to you this time, his back practically leaning against where your legs were bent. “It is easy, by the way.”

You tilted your head to the side, moving your legs as if to nudge him in the back. “What?”

He just shook his head, looking straight ahead. “What you said earlier, about how you were putting me out. And that this can’t be easy for me. You’re wrong. Because this is easy for me.”

Your heartbeat picked up at his confession, and you picked at the stray threads on the blanket covering your legs while you waited for him to continue. You waited a while.

“What wasn’t easy,” he sighed, a hand scrubbing over his face and then running through his hair, “was watching you leave. With a fucking cop-out explanation, by the way. And then just never hearing from you. Nobody did, not even Pope. JJ won’t admit it, but he misses you, too. And you know Kie did. And you just left all of us. You left me.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“But you being here?” he pressed, hand grabbing your ankle through the material of the blanket. “That’s easy. Picking you up, making sure you’re alright? That’s easy for me. Easiest thing. Even after you hurt me, which you did, Y/n.”

“I know,” you croaked, face hidden in your hands. He barely let you stay like that, gently tugging your hands away until you were looking at him again.

“No, you don’t know, Y/n/n. Because you lied to me when you ended things. I know you did,” he accused, his eyes hopeful. “And I keep waiting for you to fess up, and you won’t. I don’t know why.”

“Because it was all for nothing,” you admitted. You pulled your hands out of his grasp, setting them back in your lap. “This life my parents wanted just fell apart, and I lost you for nothing.”

“I’m sorry about your parents, Y/n/n. I really am,” John B said. “But you’re wrong again.”

“About what?”

He shrugged, face falling blank with seriousness. “You didn’t lose me.”

“John B.”

“You didn’t,” he repeated. And you believed him.

“No?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

John B slid closer to you on the couch, that last bit closer it took for him to be completely in your personal space. It was an awkward angle for him to lean right into your space but he did, his single-word response nothing above a whisper. “No.”

“Are you gonna—”

“Only if it’s not going to make everything worse.”

You tugged him down with a hand on the back of his neck. “Kiss me.”

He needed no further instruction, melting into you like the last few months had never transpired, like you still did this all the time, like this is still exactly where you were meant to be. Not at country club parties, not really even at college in Texas—right here, on a couch so dilapidated you could feel a spring digging into your back while your first love poured his soul into yours and reassured you that you could make mistakes over and over again and he’d still see right through them because he knows you.

You pulled back for air and shut your eyes when his forehead rested against yours, while the two of you fought to catch your breath from the same air between you.

“I need to be up early tomorrow,” you finally said. “Should get some sleep.”

“You could stay tomorrow, baby. If you wanted,” he offered. “For Christmas?”

You nodded against him, leaning in for one more peck. “Ask me again in the morning.”

“Deal.”

He rested his hands on his legs and stood after that, crossing the length of the house in his normal leisurely gait. You called his name and he turned and smiled at you from the doorway to his bedroom, a nervous hand running through the hair curling at the base of his neck. “John B?”

“Hm?”

“This couch is still really uncomfortable.”

He rolled his eyes, then tilted his head in the direction of his bedroom with a coy grin. “C’mon. Before I change my mind.”