#i had to hold my breath til the coast was clear...

[plusultraetc]

Have 'Tyson vs Douglas' by The Killers stuck on loop in my brain in the midst of yet another Moment about Kamino and you know I'm being sooo calm & chill about it

[nicotinemaiden]

Die together

[Infinite Songs for her Smile - Ch.21]

Read on AO3 →

But if we die together now, we will always have each other, I won't lose you for another. And if we die together now, I would hold you 'til forever.

If we die together, die together now.

Take my heart and rip it out, bring it to the other side.

[  Amanda Tenfjord ]

She was looking at the endless sea, the moon vigilant of every one of her steps, her eyes a mirror to all the sadness and determination of the night.

It was almost time.

She carried a bow in her hand, a sack full of potions, bandages, bags of dust and everything else she could prepare on her waist, arrows at her back and the love for her people, her friends and her country - the one that accepted her with open arms when her birth country was yanked from her hands - as her best weapon.

Her free hand caressed the wood of the handrail. No one was prepared for this. Not the ship, not the crew, not the passengers and, most of all, not her. They were keeping course for the coast, just in case they could make it, but everyone knew it was impossible. The bird came too late, the warnings now looking more like an ill omen, a certainty that none of them could escape.

Another hand joined hers on the handrail and she wasted no time accommodating it on hers, linking their fingers together. This, this was all she had. Their life didn’t start together, even if her second chance at life did, but now it would end - together. Fighting together. Protecting that which they valued most: each other and their country. The country that set them free, shattering each of their chains, replacing them with bonds.

They’ve talked so much about this moment she felt there was little more to say. The reinforcements were coming, their only hope, the Great Naval Army of Wistal, sent by the kingdom itself. If she looked hard enough she could swear the sails were already showing themselves on the horizon. Only… she knew she was looking in the opposite direction. Their ship was small but the cargo was heavy. All the people - most of them civilians - were hidden in the hull, on the cabins, praying for their lives. She wished she could protect them. She would do her best to protect them. But even hope had a limit.

After three days of running to the meeting point, the closest port to them, she was starting to reach it. The storm that was slowly covering the night sky was a surprise but one they were prepared for. The sailors smelled it long before it was coming and the ship was ready. It was a problem, yes, and it scared her because it was her first real storm on a ship yet she could work with that. The real problem was the warships of Denim. Denim was a country across the sea, so, so far away she hadn’t heard talk of it until a week ago when the bird that sealed their fate found their ship in the middle of nothing.

The message was clear: A Naval Army was coming, searching for the conquest of the coastal cities of Wistal and Tanbarun. Their trajectory collided perfectly with that of their ship and, even if it didn’t, they were searching for every ship on this ocean. They sunken fishing ships, trading ships and passenger ships. They didn’t care about anyone or anything except the message they were sending to the kingdoms on the other side.

Her hand trembled for a second and her knight moved behind her, crossing his arms around her waist and nudging her neck with his nose. She closed her eyes, breathing his scent, moving her head slightly to be closer to him. Even in the high sea, even with the smell of salt on her nose, he still smelled of fresh grass and snow, exactly like the first day of spring in Lyrias. Her eyes stung, the tears screaming to come out, but she won’t let them. She had to be strong. For the people below this deck. For the people waiting for them. For him. For herself.

Her hand clutched the bow stronger for a moment before letting it fall to their feet in an unceremoniously way. She turned then, her arms reaching for the expanse of his back, her head seeking refuge on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and caressed every strand of red hair. The sails were close now, too close. The first tears of rain wettened the deck and the lighting struck first far away to the north. People were starting to move, to get to the small cannons, to their weapons of choice, to their loved ones.

She passed his knight one of her seeds, a red one, to remind him of her on the other side.

He left one of his knives in her care, as a lucky charm and as a last resource.

She thanked him for teaching her the way of the bow and the sword so many months ago, for being with her in these last moments as he was all those years before.

He thanked her for teaching him how to live, really live, and for being his guiding light in the dark even now.

He promised to protect her with all he had, his life included.

She promised she won’t let him fight alone, even if her life was on the line.

They promised that if they died, they would do it together - because they couldn’t think of it being any other way.

And then the explosions started.

[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Nine: Friday

a/n: happy friday lovies!! I am soooo excited for y’all to read this one bc it was my favvv chapter to write and I still get emo over it :’) also I think I should maybe let you all know that we only have two more chapters left in this series, and I can not thank you enough for all of the love and support you have shown it. It has been such a blast hearing your thoughts and sharing Halani with all of you lovely people, and I can’t believe the fun is almost over :( BUT we still have some time before we have to think about that soooo without further ado here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor

Word Count: 9.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight

Monday

Harry takes a deep breath and raises his arms above his head, feeling every vertebrae stretch as he lies flat against the surfboard. The beaming sunlight warms him down to the bone and it threatens to lull him to sleep, but his attention is too occupied with the various sounds coming from each direction. Out of his right ear, he hears the waves lapping against the shore and the faint sound of children’s laughter. From his left, Mitch and Tom engage in a serious conversation about sharks. He lets one foot slide off the edge of the board and wade into the water below, all the while resisting the paranoia that he will be the next victim of Jaws thanks to his friends’ discussion. 

“I’m gonna go switch out the camera.” Paul says beside him, already swimming back to the shore. 

Harry gives a thumbs up in acknowledgement and lets the back of his hand rest against his forehead. He floats for a moment longer before swinging his other leg into the water and sitting up. His feet gently tread below the surface and he studies the area for any fish sightings, but his shoulders slump in disappointment when he doesn’t find any. 

“I just think,” Mitch defends, legs crossed on his own surfboard. “That I would survive way longer than you,”

“It’s not a fuckin’ zombie apocalypse, survival rate depends on how severe the attack is,” Tom shoots back. 

“Not if you’re smart,”

“Right, good thinking, mate. Just yell the Pythagorean theorem and swim away while the bloody thing tries to solve it,”

“You just don’t get it.”

“Stop bein’ a coward, then, and put your feet in the water.”

Harry shakes his head in amusement and continues scanning the scene for something else to occupy his attention. His eyes momentarily land on a couple in the distance, the pair facing each other on their shared surfboard and laughing. He smiles softly and glances back to the shore where his group has set up camp for the afternoon. Squinting, he tries to determine the time of day using the sun’s position overhead, but quickly gives up and swims back to the beach. The sand clings to his wet toes as he jogs over to his bag and digs inside for his phone. The time reads 2:37–Alani’s shift will be over soon. 

She stifles another yawn and punches in her customer’s order, re-typing it when she realizes that it’s littered with errors. Her mind had been in a permanent fog since she woke up at 6:45 this morning. Harry had already slipped out by the time she reached over for him, but he left a note on his pillow this time. 

GOOD MORNING SWEETS!

SORRY I HAD TO JET SO EARLY :( I’LL SEE YOU AFTER WORK.

 H ☼

P.S. ALREADY MISSING YOUR LITTLE SNORES ♡

As if on cue, Alani’s phone vibrates in her back pocket and she slips it out to read the new text. 

Harry: Meet me at Honoli’i after your shift? 

She really wants to, but she’s also in desperate need of sleep. 

Alani: Gonna take a power nap first, but I’ll be there 

Harry: Can’t wait xx

********

In the distance, Harry hears The Cure blasting from a car in the parking lot. He hums along and picks at his bowl of fruit, saving the kiwis for Alani who once said they were her favorite. Jeff and Paul laugh about something between the two of them before the director catches Harry’s attention. 

“How long you planning on staying here?” he asks. 

Harry checks his phone again and the time reads 4:35. He wasn’t entirely sure how long Alani’s nap was supposed to last, but just as he’s about to answer, a text comes through. 

Alani: Heading over. See you soon, sunshine💗

He smiles softly and shuts his phone off. “I actually have a surfing lesson at five. But I’ll meet you guys at the house after.”

Paul, the two Jeffs, Mitch, and Tom bid Harry farewell and decide to take a drive along the coast before heading to dinner. They mention the name of the restaurant they plan to go to, but Harry knows he’ll probably skip it and take Alani somewhere else. He sits back on his elbows, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze, when suddenly his vision goes dark when he feels hands over his eyes. 

“Guess who,”

“The Queen of England?”

“Yes and I’m here to colonize your land and steal your jewels,” Alani jokes in a posh British accent.  She leans over his head so they partake in an upside down kiss before settling into the sand beside him. 

“You’ve already had my family jewels,” he teases with a suggestive wiggle of his brows. 

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You are so insufferable sometimes, I swear to God,”

Harry lies back and rests his head in her lap with a shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. The damp locks along his hairline are curled and Alani twirls the pieces between her fingers. 

“Saved y’some kiwis,” he informs her, nodding in the direction of his tote bag. 

“Aw thanks, baby,” 

“How was your day?” 

Alani removes the lid and pops a slice of kiwi into her mouth. “Long, boring, tiring. A lot better now,”

“Feel the same way,”

“How’s your project going?” she questions, curious about his recent, mysterious whereabouts. 

He shrugs. “S’fine, yeah,”

“What exactly is it, again?”

“It’s a,” Harry starts slowly. “Video thing… kind of,”

Alani narrows her eyes and lifts another piece of fruit to her lips. “Meaning?”

“It’s like—following uh.. the album ‘n stuff,”

“Ah the elusive album,” Alani nods. “Will I ever get to hear any of it?”

“Yeah,”

“When?”

“Dunno,” he blinks. “When’re you gonna let me read that article of yours?”

She smirks and taps her fork against her lower lip. “When it’s ready,”

“Then I’m withholding my thing ‘til it’s ready too,”

“That’s not fair,” she objects. “My article is contingent on your music,”

“One song,” Harry bargains, holding up his index finger. “In exchange for one paragraph. Seems fair to me,”

“Deal,”

He sits up suddenly and opens his mouth as an unspoken request for a kiwi. Alani tosses it in his direction and to her surprise, he catches it effortlessly. 

“You really are a freak of nature,” she marvels. “What can’t you do?”

“Stay away from you, apparently,” 

“Ditto,”

“D’you wanna head to the water for a bit?” Harry asks, his eyes landing on the board cast to the side.

Alani nods. “Sure thing,”

She strips down to the pink two piece underneath her clothes and accepts his outstretched hand. They shuffle through the sand, joint hands swinging, but Harry stops and scans her face when they reach the edge. 

“What?” Alani asks, already dipping her toes in the water. 

He runs his thumb over hers and starts hesitantly. “I know the water is kind of…”

“Oh,” she finishes when he trails off. “Yeah. I mean, for the most part I’m okay with it. Last time was just—I wasn’t expecting it,”

“I’m really sorry for that.” Harry apologizes with a somber look in his eye. 

Alani reaches her free hand out to his cheek and offers a comforting smile. “No, it’s okay. I actually used to be pretty good at surfing,”

“Oh?”

“Haven’t really done it in years, though. I’m probably really rusty now,”

“Well maybe it’s time to get back on the horse,” Harry urges, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her palm before leading them further into the waves. Alani gets up on the board first and it's clear that she’s a natural despite the lack of practice. Her muscles fall into a mesmerizing rhythm as they repeat the very motions she had done thousands of times before her accident. Harry’s eyes carefully study the precision of her determined arms slicing through the water and the way her feet gracefully meet the board once she’s found a strong enough wave. She glides back to the beach and revels in the familiar feeling of the ocean breeze against her skin. Harry whistles from the distance as she reaches the shore, turning back to him with a wide grin and two thumbs up. 

“Your turn,” she calls, paddling towards him on her stomach. 

Harry replaces her on the board and winces. “Maybe I should’ve gone first,”

“You’re gonna do great,” Alani insists. “Tighten your core muscles. Oh! And bend your knees, not your back. Just trust your instincts and follow through,”

He follows her advice and to his surprise, does well, though not nearly as graceful as she had. Despite this, Alani cheers from the side as he glides back to the beach. Harry takes a bow once his feet have safely met the sand below. 

“I knew you could do it,” she beams when he swims back to her. 

“Couldn’t have done it without my amazing coach,” he shoots back, leaning down to press a salty kiss to her lips. 

With Harry’s help, she swings her leg over the board and sits so that they face each other. Their legs paddle gently below the surface and his hand finds the top of her knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze. 

“You were incredible out there,” he muses. “Can’t even tell that you’re out of practice,”

She wrings her hair out and fastens it into a low bun at the base of her neck. “Guess it’s like riding a bike—the muscle memory and all that,”

“You’re a great coach, you know. Cause I usually just wipe out,”

“That’s normal,” Alani nods. “You have to get used to falling. And wait for the right wave,”

Harry admires the way the afternoon sun sets her aglow, skin shimmering and golden under the rays. “How d’you know when it’s the right one?”

“You just feel it I guess. It’s like a gut instinct that you have to follow. And no second guessing yourself, either, cause that’s when you mess up,”

“What if you do go for it and you still wipe out?” He questions, something besides surfing in the back of his mind. 

Alani sighs. “Then you wipe out,”

“You just have to trust?”

“You just have to trust,”

Harry hums as he considers this. Three burning syllables bounce around in his skull, but he suppresses them for the time being. Carefully, he lifts himself to his feet and motions for Alani to do the same. It takes them a second to find their balance on the board, but eventually they do and Harry brings her closer with a protective hand on the middle of her back. 

“D’you trust me?” he murmurs. 

Alani studies the different shades of green in his irises and feels a flutter deep in the pit of her belly, so she decides to take her own advice and presses a soft kiss to his warm lips before responding. 

“Yes.”

Carefully, Harry takes a step back and twirls Alani before pulling her flush to his chest and swaying to the music stuck in his brain. As best they can, the pair dances on the surface of the board but Harry’s foot gets caught in a slick spot and he tumbles backwards, bringing Alani with him. When they emerge, his heart races in worry, but the knot in his chest eases when he hears her laughter.  

“Y’okay?” he checks. 

“Yeah,” she assures him, her legs snaking around his torso under the water. “I’m alright.”

The sky turns pink as they continue to wade peacefully in the water, and the entire time Harry finds himself fixated on the weight of the three little words nagging at the back of his brain. 

********

Tuesday

“Say it again,”

“No,”

“Please?”

Harry shoots Alani an unamused look through the corner of his eye. “Dunno what’s so funny about it,”

“Just say it one more time,” she pleads with a mischievous glint in her eye. 

“Tuesday,”

“Chews day,” Alani mimics and Harry rolls his eyes. 

“You’re so clever,” he huffs. “Really, a true comedian,”

She giggles and leans over in her seat to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute!”

“Yeah, whatever,”

“Okay, just one more—”

“Alani,” Harry chuckles, more endeared than irritated. “Don’t make me turn this car around,”

She pouts playfully and returns to watching the trees and passing cars. “At least I’m not asking you where we’re going,”

“You are so stubborn,” he shakes his head. “I told you we’re almost there,”

“I just don’t understand what it is with you and keeping secrets,”

“It’s about the mystery, darlin’, it’s romantic! Just trust me, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Alani nibbles at the skin on her lower lip and folds her arms. “No,”

“Okay, then,” Harry says finally. “Now change the song. I let you have fun with one Taylor, but it’s getting old,”

“Hater,” she grumbles, shuffling through the rest of her playlists before settling on Madonna. 

Harry’s finger taps along to the beat against her thigh and his lips turn up when he hears Alani singing along. Her eyes are focused on the road ahead of them as she pretends to be in a music video of her own, creating hand gestures and choreography to accompany the lyrics. The chorus builds and she belts out the words as if her life depends on it. 

“I’m crazy for you!”  She performs, squishing Harry’s cheeks between her hands. “Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true. I never wanted anyone like this, it’s all brand new. You’ll feel it in my kiss,”

Alani presses a slobbery smooch to the side of his face and he groans, laughing when she continues melodramatically. The song goes on for another minute and Alani sings passionately out of tune, but it makes Harry’s heart swell. He briefly considers joining her, but decides to let her have her moment, too amused by the way she’s caught up in the emotion. When it’s finally over, she slumps down in her seat with a dazed look in her eye. 

“Gotta love the 80s,”

“Maybe I should let you join the band,” Harry suggests. 

“Really?

“No,”

Alani gasps in mock offense, her eyes wide. “Hey!”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismisses offhandedly. “I’m a sweetie,”

“A sweet pain in my arse,”

“Arse? Did you really just say arse?”

“I take it back, you’re just a regular pain.”

The two of them drive for another forty-five minutes taking playful jabs at each other and watching the lush greenery whizz by. Harry had been characteristically cryptic in his instructions the night before, an idea suddenly popping into his mind when Alani reminded him of her day off. He had told her to wear something comfortable and practical, nothing that could flow easily in the wind. Furthermore, he revealed that he would pick her up at exactly 7:00 a.m. which made her eyebrows shoot up. 

“Seven?”

“It’ll be worth it, promise,”

“Can we at least get McDonald’s hash browns for the road?” Alani had bargained. 

Harry chuckled to himself, too excited to deny her. “Sure thing, sweets.”

Welcome to Waikōloa Beach, the sign read and Alani wondered what could possibly have possessed Harry to drag her out of bed and across the island at the crack of dawn. Her question was quickly answered when they turned onto Keana Place where a lot full of helicopters were lined up and waiting. 

“‘Big Island Tours’,” she reads aloud. “Wait a minute, we’re not—”

“Surprise!” Harry beams, reaching behind her seat for a bag. 

Alani scoffs, her mind still trying to process. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Come on,” he pleads. “Been dying to do it since I got here,”

“So bring Mitch! Or Jeff, or Tom or literally anyone else,”

Harry gives her a pout and bats his lashes. “But I’d rather be with you. Please?”

“Harry,” she sighs, taking another glance at the helicopters before her. They did seem secure enough, enclosed on all sides, and he had driven an hour and a half just to surprise her with something fun and totally outside of her comfort zone. 

“Trust me?” he asks after a minute, kissing her knuckles gently. 

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine.”

They exit the SUV and Harry takes her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. There’s a short, stocky man with dark sunglasses standing in front of one of the helicopters with a clipboard. He checks his watch when he sees the two of them approaching and reaches out a hand. 

“Mr. Styles?”

“Harry,”

“Nice to meet you Harry, I’m Matt,” the pilot says with a firm handshake. “Is this your guest?”

“Alani,” she greets. “Is this…”

“It’s very safe,” Matt assures her with a warm smile. 

Harry squeezes her hand gently and looks over their mode of transportation. “How long’ve you been doin’ this?”

“Almost ten years,” the pilot explains. “I was a commercial pilot for twenty-five and then started this when I retired,”

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of nervous fliers, then,” Alani speaks up, attempting humor to mask her jitters. 

Matt nods with a knowing smile. “Oh yeah. Plenty of anxious girlfriends who kick their boyfriends for dragging them into it, but they always enjoy themselves in the end,”

Alani’s cheeks warm at his assumption of their relationship status, but neither her nor Harry address it. Instead, Harry clears his throat and asks his next question. 

“So when can we go up?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Matt offers. 

Once the three of them have settled into the aircraft, he hands Harry and Alani each a headset and goes over the basic safety rules. Her heart races and stomach turns, but she takes a deep breath and wills herself to give it a chance. Beside her, Harry is enthusiastically chatting up Matt and being his usual charming self; his confidence is reassuring and she finds herself sinking deeper into his side for comfort. He drapes an arm over her shoulders protectively, sensing her nerves, and presses a firm kiss to her temple. After a few minutes of discussion with the air base over the radio, Matt gives them a thumbs up and signals that they’re ready to go. Another deep breath and they’re off, the ground growing smaller and smaller below. They skim over Waikōloa Village and head west to Waiulua Bay where the water is so clear and blue, Harry has a hard time believing it’s real. Alani peers down at the tiny people all along the coast and in the water and her throat goes dry. She feels Harry nudge her shoulder lightly and looks over to where his finger is pointed. 

“Down there you can swim with dolphins,” he says. “Looked it up last night,”

“And we’re not doing that because...?”

Harry flashes a dimpled grin and laughs softly to himself. “How are you not enjoying this?”

“I am,” Alani insists, which is steadily becoming true. She watches in amazement as they hover over the expanse of the lush, green landscape along the coast. 

Over the headset, Matt points out some key landmarks and answers more of Harry’s questions. They pass over an active volcano and Alani momentarily feels a rush of terror, but her curiosity takes over as she snaps a photo of the molten lava below. She captures another one of Harry looking out his window before flipping the camera to selfie mode and making a peace sign. He turns to tell her something, but flashes a cheesy grin and presses a kiss to her cheek when he notices the camera. Alani writes a mental note to make it her lock screen later. 

After half an hour in the air, Matt points to the cliff on their right hand side and says they’ll be landing there for a bit as part of the tour. A 200 foot waterfall feeds into a small pool and he lands them on a ledge across the way. The three of them exit the helicopter, but Matt says that he needs to check in with the base and lets them explore the site alone for a few minutes. 

“This is incredible,” Alani marvels, looking over the edge. 

“Knew you’d like it,”

She turns to him and snakes her arms around his shoulders, leaving a small peck to his lips. “Thank you,”

While she had been almost one-hundred percent sure that she would never enjoy a helicopter ride, Alani is glad that she was wrong. She is even more grateful that Harry had encouraged, but hadn’t pushed, her to try it. If Alani had been absolutely against the idea, she knows that he wouldn’t have pressed it any further and would have taken her to do something more her speed, hence the dolphin back up plan. It sometimes felt like they were from entirely different worlds, Harry being more sure of himself and adventurous while Alani was careful and preferred to have things planned. But he made her feel brave and spontaneous without pressuring  her to change anything about herself. Harry had seen something special in her and wanted the whole world to see it, too. So he encouraged her to break out of her comfort zone and let her true self shine, but only at her own discretion. Over the course of the past few weeks, Alani had noticed herself opening up to new experiences and loving every minute of it, but this transformative feeling was far from one sided; because of their relationship, Harry learned the value of trusting his own instincts. For so much of his life, he felt like a member of an overcrowded democracy allowing himself to go with the majority rule even if it didn’t particularly please him. From their earliest moments spent together, Harry was inspired by Alani’s determination and self-confidence. He had always cared deeply about other people’s opinion of him and felt that it was his greatest weakness, but she seemed so unapologetically herself at all times. And though Harry sometimes worried that he was simply playing a part for the rest of the world, he never had to question who he was with Alani. She understood him, she grounded him, and amidst all of the unfamiliarity in his new life, she felt familiar and safe. 

“You deserve it,” Harry says gently. “To see beautiful things.”

Alani presses their foreheads together and studies his emerald eyes like they’re the rarest gems she’s ever seen. “Well I’m looking at the best damn view right now,”

“Although, I wish you would’ve told me we were going to Jurassic Park, I would’ve prepared my Laura Dern outfit.”

Harry laughs softly and slots his lips between hers, those three, pesky little words nagging at him again. Not yet, he thinks, but almost there. 

********

Wednesday 

Alani takes an extended lunch and heads over to the recording studio with food for Harry and his friends. He had warned her beforehand that there would be filming, so they agreed to pretend, just for the afternoon, that she was his assistant. However, their true relationship was as much of  a mystery to the both of them as it was to everyone else. Alani had considered, on many occasions, asking him to officially be her boyfriend. She didn’t know how else to refer to him when her mom had started inquiring about the Range Rover mysteriously parked across the street every morning. Each time Alani had gotten up the nerve to ask, however, she secretly worried that it was too soon, or worse, that he would say no. Much to her oblivion Harry had also wrestled with this question, and many others, but also feared her response. What they shared was undeniably strong and completely foreign, so they had independently decided not to put too much weight on the situation in fear of bursting the bubble too soon. Neither of them were prepared to deal with the fallout if it all came crumbling down. 

“Lunch is here!” Jeff calls from the doorway as he escorts Alani inside. 

He motions her over to the table in one corner of the room and helps her lay out the food, thanking her warmly when she declines payment. 

“It’s on the house,” she reassures him. 

The crew all take turns grabbing their lunch, Mitch ruffling Alani’s hair in a display of gratitude while he swipes his burger, and settle into various chairs and comfortable spots around the studio. Harry is the last one to claim his food and he lingers around the table as he does so. 

“Thank you, Ms. Hale,” he offers politely, itching to give her an appreciative kiss. 

She nods and returns the professionalism. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles,”

“How’s the weather?”

By now, Alani has come to recognize this as his go-to inquiry when he’s really asking for her attention or affection. 

“Full of sunshine,”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiles softly. The casual slip of his nickname isn’t lost on him. 

“Hey Harry,” the director calls. “Show Jason that Bob Dylan thing you were doing—watch, you’ll love this.”

Harry musters up a pleasant smile and quickly glances at Alani, wanting nothing more than to escape with her for the precious few moments she has left to spare. 

“Occupational hazard.” she shrugs as her cue of permission. His fond look turns apologetic before he saunters over to the rest of the group. 

Alani watches, amused, as he lifts a guitar and starts strumming a tune that she hadn’t heard before with a Dylan-esque lilt in his voice. The crew all laugh and encourage his impression, but she still wonders what the song is and reminds herself to ask later. After a few moments with the rest of the group, Harry’s eyes wander to Alani munching on a french fry and scrolling on her phone. Jeff notices this too and decides to help his friend out.

“Hey Alani,” he calls. “Come sit with us,”

She looks over to Harry and he grins eagerly, making room on the couch between him and Mitch. 

“Alani makes the best smoothies in the world.”  Jeff comments to the film crew. 

“It’s true,” Mitch adds. “Harry loves ‘em.”

A subtle glare radiates from the singer, but Mitch simply winks in response. 

“Well, you guys are my favorite customers,” Alani offers. “But don’t tell the others,”

The whole team makes Alani feel welcome and she’s endlessly thankful for it, making an effort to engage every crew member in some sort of small talk as evidence of her gratitude. Harry enjoys her presence among his friends and how easily she fits in. It serves as further proof of what his gut already knew: she was a missing puzzle piece in the image of his ideal life slowly coming together before his eyes. Alani checks the time an hour later and starts bidding farewell to the group, much to their disappointment. As she slips out the door and over to the Bronco, a familiar accented voice calls from behind. Before she has time to respond, a pair of warm lips meet hers and she hums. 

“They’re all goin’ out  for dinner at 5,” Harry explains gently. “Come back to the studio then, I have somethin’ I wanna show you.”

********

It’s 5:10 when Alani makes her way back to Napua. Harry had texted her beforehand to say that the door would be open, so she lets herself in and scans the quiet room. She hears the soft keys of a piano, but the room is dim and she has to get closer to see that it’s Harry seated there. Candles are perched around the room and Alani watches her step, reaching a hand to Harry’s shoulder when she reaches him. He stops playing and flashes a soft smile, inviting her to join him on the bench. 

“Digging the ambience,” Alani remarks lightly, not entirely reading his mood. 

He shrugs. “Just felt right,” 

Harry’s fingers return to the keys and he starts with a somber chord that makes Alani’s breath hitch. His vocals are raw and gritty, but stronger than she had ever heard him sing and it nearly moves her to tears. She hangs on every word and burns them into her mind for safe keeping, though she doubts that she could ever forget this moment even if she tried. Harry picks up into the chorus and leaves nothing behind, diving straight into the wave without fear of wiping out. Alani tries, but she can’t contain the tears that spill over her cheek. It’s as if every ounce of apprehension and anxiety, every doubt and moment of insecurity is cleansed from her soul right in this very moment. When the song comes to an end, she immediately wishes to relive it and tries to find the right words in response. 

“That was incredible,” Alani clears her throat. “What’s it called?”

“Sign of the Times,” he responds. “Not really sure about it,”

She furrows her brows in confusion, but quickly realizes that he’s being honest and not fishing for compliments. 

“Why?”

“It’s… different,”

“Than?”

He thinks for a moment and chooses his next words carefully. “Anything I‘ve ever done before,”

“And why’s that bad?” Alani questions with a comforting hand weaving its way into his hair. 

“Dunno,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t wanna get it wrong,”

At this moment, “it” isn’t just the song. Everything about his new solo career, and his life in general, is a toss up, and one that he isn’t sure will land in his favor. Alani has no doubts, though, not when it comes to her faith in Harry’s abilities. 

“Are you happy?” she asks. 

He looks over to her and thinks that he couldn’t possibly be more content. “Yeah,”

“Then you’re already succeeding. If you’re happy with what you’re doing, then no one can tell you that you’re not successful,”

Harry feels his own wave of emotions pooling at the bottom of his lash line and he’s grateful that the low lighting conceals it. He closes the gap between their lips, palm secure against the side of Alani’s face as he keeps her close. 

“There’s somethin’ else I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says gently and Alani feels her heartbeat pick up. 

“Okay,”

He isn’t sure how to approach the subject, despite the fact that it’s been the only thing on his mind for days, so he decides to trust his gut and speak from the heart.

“These past few weeks with you,” he starts slowly. “Have been the best of my entire life. When I’m with you, it’s like nothing else in the entire world matters, and nothing bad could ever happen to me because there’s you,”

Another tear rolls down Alani’s face and Harry wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. 

“All I asked for was a chance,” he continues. “And it feels like you’ve given me the entire world. Do you remember the day when we saw that rainbow?”

“Yes,” Alani nods, voice small. 

“You told me to wish for something, and I did. I wished for a home. I didn’t know why, but that word wouldn’t leave me alone after you said it. But I think I understand it now, because I’m in a place I’ve never been before, physically and in my life generally, but you make it feel like home. You bring me home,”

Alani feels as if all of the air inside her lungs has been sucked out, and her grip on Harry’s wrist tightens because she worries that if he lets go, she’ll float away like a helium balloon. 

“I know I’m not perfect,” Harry continues, voice wavering. “But this thing we have feels like it could set the world on fire, and I’d gladly walk in the flames for you. So would you please say you’ll be mine and let me prove it?”

“Yes,” Alani breathes, tears of relief and joy still streaming down her face. “But I need a moment to compose an appropriate girlfriend acceptance speech,”

Harry grins and presses their lips together as if she’s the only source of air. 

“Seriously,” Alani chuckles when they pull apart. “Cause how the fuck could I top that?”

“Y’don’t need to. Saying yes was all I needed,”

She unclasps her fingers from his, draping her arms around his shoulders instead, and takes a deep breath. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re the sun and the whole universe revolves around you.”

“And you’re the most heavenly moon,” Harry responds thinking back to the meaning of her name. “Mahealani.”

********

Thursday

When Alani’s father had asked for her help setting up a wedding that was taking place at the resort this weekend, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t often that she got to be involved in the events at Honu, but she adored the luxurious five star hotel and all of its amenities. She had helped her dad cater numerous events over the years and weddings were her absolute favorite, especially because of the beautiful gowns and all of the blissfully happy couples. It felt like a privilege to glimpse into the most special moments in the lives of strangers she would probably never see again. Alani had been tasked with meeting the bride and collecting any last minute meal cards or notes of dietary restrictions from guests. The wedding was to take place the following night, but all the food prep would begin that afternoon in order to adequately prepare. 

“I think that’s all. There were just a few last minute adjustments,” the bride, Mila, says pulling out an envelope from her bag. 

“No offense,” Alani starts. “But shouldn’t you be resting? I mean isn’t the maid of honor supposed to do all this? Or a wedding planner?”

Mila sighs, an embarrassed smile spreading across her rosy lips. “I know, I’m just a bit of a control freak. I like things done a certain way,”

“Totally understandable,”

“Like the music thing,” Mila rolls her eyes. “It was my fiancé’s idea. He said that DJs were boring and wanted to let the guests choose their own songs, instead. So that was my compromise. I’m trying,”

Alani offers a chuckle and shuffles the last of the cards into her stack. “Sounds like you’re already mastering this whole marriage thing,”

“Are you married?” the bride asks, curiously. 

“Oh, no I’m not,” 

“Got a boyfriend?”

Alani’s cheeks warm and her lips curl. “Yes,”

“Knew it,” Mila comments with a knowing smirk. “You’re too pretty to be single. And you’ve got the look,”

“What look?” Alani questions. 

Mila flutters her lashes and sighs. “The ‘I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it’ look. Like a Disney princess,”

Alani laughs shyly and focuses her attention back to the envelopes in front of her. 

“What’s his name?” the bride pries. 

“Harry,”

“That’s a good one,” Mila considers tapping her lower lip. “Like the Prince of England. Maybe you will be a princess, after all,”

Alani is amused by the irony of her statement, but she chooses not to disclose the fact that her boyfriend actually is British, albeit, not a Royal. Instead, she chooses to deflect the attention back onto the bride. 

“And what’s your lucky guy’s name?”

“Chad,”

“Like the country,”

“Yeah,” Mila giggles. “Like the country,”

“And what’s he like?”

Mila rests her chin in her hand and a dreamy look settles into her hazel eyes. “Funny. He wanted to be a comedian, but he became a lawyer, instead. That’s how we met— law school,”

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Ironic enough,” Mila chuckles. “Family and divorce law. I never thought I’d get married, I mean I literally hear about people falling out of love every day. But the thing about love is that it’s effort, and a lot of people aren’t willing to put in the work. It doesn’t feel like work when it’s the right person, though. Just feels like ‘how can I be the best possible partner to this human that I love so much?’”

Alani considers this, her mind immediately wandering to Harry and all of his thoughtful gestures. “Makes sense,”

“Chad is a patent lawyer,” Mila continues. “He’s the more creative, outgoing one, I guess. He makes things light when it gets too heavy, you know? It’s good to have someone like that,”

“Yeah, definitely,”

“What’s your guy like? What does he do?” Mila asks with a flirty grin. 

“He’s, uh,” Alani thinks for a second trying to be as vague as possible. “A musician,”

Mila gives an approving nod. “Dreamy. Bet he writes lots of songs about you,”

“Maybe,”

“Don’t be shy,” Mila urges. “Come on, it’s just us girls. Spill,”

Alani thinks for a moment and imagines that the same dream cloud must be present over her own features.

“Well he’s kind, thoughtful, romantic, and wise. Really funny, too. I don’t know he just—he makes me wanna be a better person, really,”

“Wow,” the bride marvels. “Sounds like a hell of a guy,”

“He is,”

Mila leans in conspiratorially and Alani does the same. “Speaking as an expert, I think it’s gonna last forever,”

“You think?” Alani asks. 

“Oh yeah,” Mila assures her. “When you’re so used to studying fake love, you get really good at recognizing the real deal,”

Alani offers her an appreciative smile and nods. “Thank you,”

Mila’s eyes light up suddenly and she grabs Alani by both hands. “Hey you should bring him! Yeah, you two should come, I insist,”

“Oh, I—”

“Please, say you will! Maybe he can throw in some good music recommendations to offset the terrible ones,”

Alani chuckles and she knows immediately that Harry would leap at the chance to do so. “Okay, sure.”

“Yay!” Mila cheers, reaching into her planner and jotting a note down. “Harry and Alani at the lovebird’s table.”

********

“Hey, sweets,” Harry beams, pulling up to the front of the hotel in the Cadillac. “Waiting on your boyfriend or are you just in the habit of standing on sidewalks lookin’ cute?”

“The former,” Alani responds coyly. “He’ll be here any minute,” 

“And he’s got a pretty girl like you waiting outside like this? You should dump him,”

She shrugs and turns on her heel for a stroll while Harry gently eases off the breaks to follow. “I don’t know, I’m kinda fond of him,”

“S’that so?” he continues with a smirk. 

“Yup,” she sighs. “He’s kind of a dork, but I like that about him,” 

“Heyyy—”

“And he’s a good kisser. The best at cuddling, too,” 

“Sounds like a catch,” 

“He is. You two should meet sometime,”

The car comes to a halt and Alani slips inside, scooting all the way down the bench seat next to Harry. 

“Funny, you should be a comedian,” he quips.

Alani’s brow furrows and she shoots him a doe-eyed look. “What’s the joke?”

Harry laughs dryly, ignoring the pang of irrational jealousy that strikes him in the chest. “You’re a little too good at this bit, it’s starting to feel like we're not talkin’ about me anymore,”

“Oh, were we supposed to be talking about you?” 

His head whips over to Alani who clutches her stomach with laughter. “I’m kidding, baby, of course I’m talking about you,” 

“No, who is he?” Harry demands playfully with a deep furrow between his brows. “Tell me, I’ll hurt him,” 

Alani slots their lips together and his pout eases into a grin. 

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow night?” she asks, feeling the ocean breeze through her hair. 

Harry flashes a dimple in her direction. “Anything you want, s’long as we’re together,”

“Will you be my plus one?”

“To?”

“A wedding,” Alani explains. “The one my dad’s catering at Honu,”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles wide. “Are we crashing it?”

“No,” she laughs. “We were invited. I was hanging out with the bride today and she added us to the list,”

“‘Kay, but I’m still gonna pretend we crashed it,”

Alani drapes her arms around his shoulders and leans her head against his. “Where are we going?”

“Damn, I thought I had you distracted,”

“Boyfriend rule #1: You have to tell me where we’re going always,”

Harry narrows his eyes. “That’s not a real rule because surprises are romantic,”

“Too bad,” Alani shrugs.

“But don’t you enjoy my surprises?”

“Usually,”

“Then I’m adding a new rule,” Harry bargains. “The girlfriend can not ask the boyfriend to disclose the location of a date if they’re already in the car,”

“That’s not fair, I was already in the car when the rule was made!”

“Too bad.”

Alani pinches his cheek and slinks back into her own seat. She tells him about the bride and the groom, what she knows, at least, and about the decision to have their guests RSVP with a song of their choice to play at the reception. 

“D’you know what you’re gonna pick?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah,” Alani nods. “I Wanna Dance with Somebody by Whitney Houston, obviously,”

“Obviously,” he agrees. 

“You?”

“Dunno, yet. Have to narrow it down,”

Alani admires the heart-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Well you better make it good, cause Mila knows that you’re a musician and she’s expecting you to balance out her friends’ shitty music taste,”

“You were talkin’ about me?” he teases. 

“Well, yeah, how else do you think you got invited?”

“You have such a crush on me, s’cute,”

Alani playfully pokes his cheek. “We’re literally dating, dummy,”

“Don’t get defensive,” Harry jokes. “Cause I’ve got a crush on you too.”

“God, we’re so annoying.”

Harry grins and presses a kiss to her temple. They pull into the Port of Hilo and he magically produces a picnic basket from the backseat, a bottle of Moët et Chandon rosé peeking out. Alani slips her fingers between his and follows as he leads them to a sizable speed boat anchored and waiting for them. 

“The Carolina,” Alani reads, admiring the golden cursive on the side. 

“Like someone else I know,” Harry winks. 

He escorts her onto the vessel and she waits to see when the captain will join them, but confusion washes over her when she sees Harry poking around with the equipment. 

“What are you doing?”

“As much fun as it would be to eat at the dock,” he begins. “I think it would be more fun to take ole Carolina for a spin,”

“You mean you’re gonna drive this thing?” Alani questions, though she doesn’t know why she’s surprised by him anymore. 

“Pilot,” Harry corrects. “But yes,”

Alani blinks and tries to wrap her head around the idea of Harry piloting a boat. “And you’re allowed to do that?”

“Sure.”

“Wow,” she marvels to herself with an incredulous laugh. “I’m dating a sailor.”

Harry flashes Alani a wink over his shoulder and before she knows it, they’re heading away from the dock. She carefully stands from the lounging area at the back and sneaks over to Harry, arms wrapping around his torso with her chin propped on his shoulder. He steers with one hand and extends the other, recreating the iconic Titanic boat scene. 

“I’m flying, Jack!” he calls over his shoulder and Alani giggles, responding with her best improvised rendition of My Heart Will Go On. 

They sail out for a bit longer before Harry stops the boat and turns to her. “Ta da!”

“By jove, he’s done it!” Alani praises. 

Harry takes a bow and reaches over for the picnic basket, pulling out the rosé and two champagne flutes. He hands them to Alani and spreads their meal on the lounging area at the back: vegetable stir fry and noodles with chocolate covered strawberries for desert. 

“You did all this?” Alani muses. 

He takes each flute from her hand and fills them halfway. “It’s a special occasion,” 

“I feel like an asshole for not knowing what it is,”

“Don’t,” Harry chuckles, handing her the wine. “I mean it’s not really like—I just realized it,”

“What is it?”

Harry raises his glass and clears his throat. “Exactly three months ago, I got off a plane and I stumbled into a little café where the most beautiful and funny and smart waitress served me about twenty glasses of water until I nearly pissed my pants in front of her,”

Alani giggles at the memory, disbelief settling in when she considers how fast the time had flown. 

“And despite all of the embarrassing and idiotic things I’ve done since,” he continues. “She agreed to be my girlfriend, for reasons I have yet to understand. So today I celebrate her, and us, and all of lucky stars that brought our paths together,”

They clink their glasses together and Alani presses a cool kiss to his lips. “Cheers, baby,”

“There’s one more thing,” Harry says, holding a finger up. 

Alani scoffs. “It’s like fucking Pandora’s box in there!”

He pulls out a velvet box and her heart stops. 

“Wait, what are you—”

“It’s not what you think,” he explains quickly. “Sorry, maybe should’ve thought this through better,”

Harry opens the lid and lifts a gold chain with a crescent moon pendant and a smaller sun in the center. 

“Saw it in a shop this morning,” he says softly. “Seemed like fate, so I got it,”

“Harry,” Alani breathes, eyes already glossy. 

“D’you like it?”

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” she says, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

He fastens the necklace for her and she admires it with gentle fingers. The sun and the moon, a piece of them cast in gold and resting against her beating heart forever. 

********

Friday 

“Wow,” Harry gawks, his eyes raking in Alani’s appearance. A baby pink tulle dress falls just above her knee with puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, all cinched at the waist with a small bow. Tiny velvet hearts are speckled all over the dress, in true Alani fashion, and a pair of sparkling, pink heels accentuate her toned calves. 

“Wow yourself,” she counters, drinking in the peek of exposed skin behind his cream colored blazer. The blue dress shirt underneath is unbuttoned just above the butterfly on his stomach and a cross is nestled in the valley between his pecs. He holds out a bouquet of sunflowers between his ringed fingers and Alani accepts them gratefully, moving to the side so he can step into the house. 

“These are gorgeous, thank you,” she says, lifting them to her nose. 

“Welcome,” he smiles softly, swiping the pad of his thumb against her chin. “You are gorgeous,”

Alani presses her rose tinted lips to his carefully and pulls back to admire him again. “And you are so good looking it actually makes me mad.”

Harry laughs and pulls her closer for another sweet kiss before he hears the clearing of another person’s throat. 

“Have her back by midnight,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry salutes before bending down to address Freddie. 

Alani passes the sunflowers to her sister with a kiss to her cheek before hooking an arm under Harry’s and heading out. They hop into the convertible and the sun catches the golden pendant around her neck, bringing a soft smile to his face. 

“Hope those are your dancin’ shoes,” Harry remarks. “Cause we’re goin’ full Dirty Dancing tonight,”

“Lift and all?” 

“Lift and all,”

She runs her fingers over the silver rose on his ring finger.  “You know, I think we’re finally gonna nail it this time.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry agrees. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

When they arrive at Honu, the other guests are shuffling from the parking lot and onto the private beach where the reception will take place. Alani plucks a card from her bag to drop into the box at the entrance while Harry pulls a medium sized box from behind his seat. 

“You got a real gift?” Alani questions, a light laugh erupting. “We don’t even know these people,”

Harry tucks the gift under his arm and shrugs. “I put your name on it too, don’t worry,”

“Well now they’ll have a giftcard to Ikea and whatever’s in your mystery box.”

“It’s also a giftcard to Ikea, but wrapped in a big box.”

Alani nudges his shoulder playfully and scans the groups mingling and flocking to the mini bar. She waves to a member of her dad’s kitchen staff attending to the hors d’oeuvres before they are greeted by the manager of the guest list. 

“Alani and Harry,” she says to the tall woman behind the podium. 

“Ah yes,” the woman responds. “The Lovebirds table, number 9.”

“Guess Mila wasn’t joking about that.” Alani chuckles lightly, taking both of their name cards. 

Harry locates their table and to his surprise, no one else is present yet, but he pulls Alani’s chair out for her and pushes it back in once she’s seated. 

“Champagne?” he asks, nodding to the bar. 

“Oui, s'il vous plaît." 

He plants a kiss to the top of her head and makes his way to collect their drinks. Alani’s eyes follow the stringed lights overhead and she quickly realizes that they lead to a disco ball hanging above the center of the dance floor. Well done, Mila. She thinks to herself with an approving nod. The colors, she gathers, are lilac and periwinkle, incorporated into all of the floral arrangements and cloth details. They match the color of the sky above and Alani knows that the bride must be ecstatic over this detail. Harry returns with their drinks and sets them down gently onto the white tablecloth. 

“None of our fellow lovebirds have arrived yet, huh?” he muses, taking a sip of his champagne. 

Alani shakes her head and brings the glass to her lips. “Must be too busy making out in the parking lot,”

“You told me we didn’t have time for that.”

“I’m not gonna ruin my lipstick before we’ve even arrived.”

Harry shakes his fist to the sky and Alani giggles. They both admire the view and the children in the wedding party who are testing how close they can get to the water before an adult drags them away. The sky turns to a shade of cotton candy above them and someone announces that the bride and groom are arriving. Harry and Alani stand and welcome the newly weds with applause and whistles. Mila and Chad share a sweet kiss and the crowd goes wild. One man, most likely a friend of the groom, shouts “I love you Chad!” and laughter erupts. They take their seats and the rest of the wedding party follows suit, which means that the rest of the guests are free to return to their chatting and socializing. 

“I’m beginning to think we were put in the time out table.” Harry jokes when they are still not joined by any other guests. 

A light laugh escapes Alani’s lips and she looks around. “Yeah I guess so.”

The servers arrive with their meal and the pair eat happily, exchanging witty banter and observations of the scene around them. Harry sucks a piece of linguine between his lips and turns to Alani with a mischievous smirk. 

“No,” Alani says, already knowing what he’s up to. 

“Don’t leave me hangin’,”

 “Eat your food.”

“Alaniii,”

She shakes her head gently and rolls her eyes, but decides to indulge him anyway. Their lips meet in the middle of the shared noodle and Harry smiles. 

“Always wanted to try that.” 

A few moments later, he notices a card in the middle of the table and lifts it. 

“‘Trivia,’” he reads. “‘Test your knowledge of the bride and groom and win a prize.’ Let’s play, shall we?”

“What’s the first question?” Alani asks, peering over to read the small font. 

“‘What year did Mila and Chad meet?” 

Alani hums, thinking back to her previous conversation with the bride. “They met in law school, that’s all I know,”

“2009,” Harry guesses. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“Definitely Chad,” she replies firmly. “Mila didn’t think she’d ever get married,”

“I thought you said you didn’t know these people,”

“I guess I was wrong,”

Harry squints at the next one. “What are their zodiac signs?”

“I wanna say Virgo for Mila,” Alani suggests. “Maybe… Aquarius for Chad?”

“That’s my sign,” Harry comments, writing down her guesses. 

Alani’s brows raise. “No kidding. Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s yours?”

“Taurus,”

“I don’t know anythin’ about astrology. Are we compatible?”

“Probably not,” Alani teases. 

Harry shoots her a disapproving look and reads the next question. “Where did they go on their first date?”

“The movies,” she predicts. “Safe bet,”

“‘Akaka Falls,” Harry writes. “That was ours,”

Alani’s head tilts. “We weren’t even dating then,”

“Yeah but I was tryin’ to win you over, so it counts,”

“Sneaky.”

“Who is the bride’s celebrity crush?” Harry continues. “Hopefully not James Marsden or this guy’s fucked.”

Alani laughs and she pulls him in for a playful kiss to his cheek. The pink sunset dims into a deep navy and the stringed lights twinkle above, setting the whole scene in a romantic, golden glow. Guests walk past their table holding strips of photo booth pictures and Harry’s neck cranes to search for the source. His eyes land on a small line at the other end of the beach and he stands quickly. 

“Let’s go,”

“Where?”

“Photo booth!”

To Alani’s surprise it’s an actual booth, curtains and all, and not just some poor sucker tasked with operating a polaroid camera the whole night. They stand in line eagerly behind two groomsmen and brainstorm poses. Once they’re inside, Alani settles onto Harry’s knee and watches as he operates the machine. The screen counts down from ten and they decide to flash a proper smile for the first one. After it’s snapped, Harry sticks his tongue out and Alani widens her eyes in mock surprise. The third one is a candid, slightly blurry one of them laughing after she accidentally poked him in the eye. A lipstick kiss is stamped to Harry’s cheek in the fourth one, but the pair innocently look away in opposite directions. The fifth and final image captures their affection mid kiss. They swipe the two sets of photos and Alani awes, admiring the black and white film strip. Before they make it back to their table, Alani feels a hand on her arm. 

“Alani!” Mila beams. 

“Hi!” Alani greets, pulling the bride into a hug. “You look gorgeous,”

“I’m so glad you came! I love your dress,”

Mila turns her attention towards Harry and gives him a warm embrace, too. “You must be Harry! So nice to meet you,”

“Thank you for having us!” he says over the music. 

“I see you guys put the photo booth to good use,” Mila comments. “Now go dance! There’s an ipad next to the stage, just queue up your songs.”

Alani and Harry bid the bride farewell, but before they leave, Mila leans into Alani’s ear and whispers “he’s a hottie!” with a wink. They set their photos down inside Alani’s purse and Harry leads her towards the dance floor. She punches in her request and he secretly types the song that’s been stuck in his head all week. Fantasy by Mariah Carey is already playing when they reach the floor, so they join in excitedly. Alani’s hips sway and Harry’s head bobs, both of them mouthing the lyrics. The song fades and Alani’s pick begins, which makes the crowd roar. 

“The people have spoken and they love Whitney!” she cheers. 

Harry twirls her and shuffles his feet. Alani shimmies and sings along, the lyrics falling from her lips like a prayer. 

I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody 

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody 

With somebody who loves me 

The dance floor is flooded with bodies jumping and swaying, and the disco ball shimmers above the euphoric scene. Alani and Harry spin, making their way through the crowd and letting the music sweep over them like a magical spell. Beads of sweat form at the back of her neck and she lifts her wavy locks to let the ocean breeze cool her down, but her feet don’t stop moving. Eventually, her song peters out and a familiar guitar fills its place. 

“I love this song!” Alani cries, immediately recognizing The Cure. 

Harry pulls her closer, despite the warmth radiating from both of their bodies, and presses a passionate kiss to her lips. They are surrounded on every side, but in this very moment under the full moon and shimmering disco ball, Harry and Alani feel like the only two people alive. Their foreheads meet and they sway gently, his hands secure at her waist while her fingers toy with the hair at the base of his neck. 

It’s Friday, I’m in love. 

[moldisgoodforyou]

i love you, say it back

wordcount: 1.8k

warning: you might gag it’s pretty fucking cute also there’s cursing there is always cursing

_____

“Hey, Soph.” Rafe tried snapping her out of her thoughts as she mumbled to herself, trying to calculate her midterm grades. Sophie had been chewing on her lip for the past ten minutes, anxious about if she could pull off an A in two of her classes or if she could manage a B+ on her global history midterm. “Hm?” She mumbled, keeping her eyes tracked on her calculation in her notebook.

“You’re stressing me out.” He nudged her foot under the table, trying to get her to look up. They were alone in her architecture lab, late at night, and Rafe was mainly keeping her company, just doing some homework while she was working on a model. It was a typical spot for them on Thursday nights, if he wasn’t able to convince her to go out instead. 

“Oh I’m sorry, you’re free to leave then.” She replied, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Soph.” He tried catching her attention again, looking at her with a fond smile.

She glanced up with an apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t mean it.”

“I know. Hey, let’s take a break, we’ve been here for five hours. What are you working on now?” Rafe came around and stood behind her, pulling her shoulders back to rub them.

She resisted for a second then let her head fall back, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’m figuring out my grades. I need at least an 84 on my global history midterm to pull it up, and I need a solid 87 on this model to keep my A in environmental studies, and an 88 on my other one to keep the A in programming, which is going to be fucking impossible, and -”

“You’ll be fine, baby, you’re a great student, you work hard. Take a break.” He urged, trying to tug her up out of her chair. She spun in the chair, looking up at him. “You don’t understand. I can’t, I still have at least 20 hours left on this one model.”

“You have a whole week -”

She scrunched up her nose in the familiar way she did when she was frustrated and Rafe had to resist grinning at her. He had made that mistake once, maybe twice, and she had just gotten pissed off that he wasn’t taking her seriously. “No, I have to get this portfolio perfect too. I’m applying to master’s programs next year and if I half-ass this project then it’ll show.”

He took her hands, tugging again to pull her up. “Soph, I love you, but you gotta stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Let’s take a break.”

I love you.

She froze and tuned out every single word after that, just blinking up at him.

“You what?”

“I said you need to stop putting -”

Sophie shook her head quickly. “No, before that. You said you loved me.”

Rafe raised his eyebrows, his arms going slack and he dropped her hands, exhaling slowly. “Oh. Did I?”

She spoke quickly, anxious, and grabbed one of his hands. “If you didn’t mean it that’s fine, I -”

“No!” He interrupted her and knelt down to her eye level in the chair. “I did! I do. I mean it.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, keeping eye contact and softened his voice a bit. “I love you.”  

Sophie gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly nervous. “Really? Me?”

“Of course you.” He grabbed the chair beside her and pulled it to sit, then rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand, growing tense again. “I wish it hadn’t just slipped out like that, but I’d been meaning to tell you.” He paused. “I’ve known for a while now, I think.”

She finally came to her senses and pulled him in with both hands on either side of his face, giving him a deep kiss. He finally relaxed and smiled against her lips. “I...you’re my favorite, you know?” She grinned.

He nodded and did his best to hold back his disappointment, his heart pounding in his ears and all he could think was she didn’t say it back. “Yeah. Better be.”

She kissed him again, long and slow, then pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his. “I, um...I can’t...” Sophie trailed off, hoping he’d get the hint.

Rafe cocked his head. “Can’t what?”

She leaned away, biting her lip anxiously. “I can’t say it back. I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t - I don’t know -”

His face fell for a moment but he recovered quickly, forcing a short smile. “Hey, hey.” He interrupted, cutting her off with a quick kiss. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s just... let’s go take a break. Walk around, move a little.”  

“I don’t know, Rafe, I gotta finish this -”

“Not asking, angel.” He stood, tugging on her hands again. She gave him a wry smile, shaking her head. “You know what that does to me, not fair.” Rafe laughed and nodded. “I know. C’mon, I’ll drag you out of here if I have to. Ten minute walk and then I’ll let you work again.”

She laughed and stood, giving him a quick hug first. He caught her around the waist and wrapped his arms around her, tight. “Love you, Soph. You’re my girl, don’t forget it.” She only nodded, words on the tip of her tongue as she rested her head against his chest. “Hey Rafe?” 

“What’s up?” He held her for a little while longer, smoothing his hand over her hair. 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, not willing to look at him. She’d felt it coming from him for a while and had tried to prepare herself, but the weight of his words fell on her like a ton of bricks. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” He kissed the top of her head, then let her go. “Come on, let’s go walk.” He cleared his throat. “Get your mind off of things.” 

She didn’t need a translator to know what things meant.

-

Although every single instinct in Sophie was screaming at her to distance herself from Rafe for the next decade until he lost interest, she made herself continue to hang out with him like normal. She saw the way Rafe’s face dropped after she told him she couldn’t say it back and absolutely hated the way it made her feel - something that made her stop and think. 

She’d never let herself get too attached in previous relationships, always being the one to break it off first. Usually she allowed herself a week-long maximum mourning period, then moved on to the next thing. The fact that Rafe even cared enough to say he loved her made her want to stay, to try, just for him. 

Rafe was a little distant on his own part, trying not to get too upset with Sophie for not returning the sentiment. After all, he felt like he’d known since December - only two months into dating - and it didn’t feel right for him to say it then. He was a little hurt, but he’d also tried telling her at least twice already and chickened out. He just hoped she was feeling the same way.

_

Two weeks later, she snuck Rafe into the Theta house up the fire escape. She had just turned in her final project and declared a celebration was in order. He had the routine down by then - walk over, wait around the corner ‘til the coast was clear, hop the gate then come up the fire escape to the top floor. Allie and Julia were just leaving as he was climbing up the stairs, trying his best to keep quiet.

“Skip the fifteenth step.” Julia advised him as they watched him scale the stairs from the parking lot. Rafe paused, unable to place the voice in the dark and tucked a shoebox under his arm, not sure if he should hide or just run. “I’m not causing any trouble, I swear.” Allie laughed and shone her phone flashlight on him. “Just us, Cameron, we won’t tell.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “Is Soph up there waiting?”

“Yeah, will you convince her to come out with us tomorrow? She’s being lame.” Julia called out.

“I’ll do my best. Can you stop shining the light? I’m gonna get her in trouble.”

“Climb faster.” Allie teased as Sophie pushed open the door up top. “You two are the worst, you know that?” She called down, grinning as Rafe made it up.

“Yeah, yeah, you love us!” Julia yelled back, much louder than necessary. Sophie laughed and grabbed Rafe’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into her room quickly. “Are they gonna give me shit every time I come over?” He asked, smiling.

“Yeah, but it’s ‘cause they like you.” She raised her eyebrows. “What’s in the box?”

Rafe grinned, holding out the shoebox with a poorly-tied ribbon on top. “Made you something, to celebrate. Presentation isn’t quite there, but. It’s something.”

“Something.” She repeated, raising her eyebrows. Sophie took the box and untied the ribbon, then gasped when she opened it. “Rafe, you didn’t!” Inside were 7 cupcakes, haphazardly decorated with pink frosting - her favorite color. 

He beamed, rocking back on his heels. “I hope they’re okay, I had to use the fancy ovens we have in the Delt kitchen. And it’s just from a box, but the box is normally okay, I think? James stole one - he didn’t know - but he thought it was good.”

She pulled out her phone to take a quick video of them first, then panned the video up to Rafe. He pushed her phone away with a grin, turning a little red. “It’s kind of cheesy, I guess. But. You deserve it. I’m proud of you.”

“God, I love you.” She breathed out, grinning ear to ear. 

He paused for a moment, seeming to process, then came over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “You said it back.”

“I mean it.” She kissed him quickly, a blush on her cheeks. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied, pressing his lips to her forehead. She giggled and reached up, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “You have dried frosting on your face.” He scowled but let her rub it away. “Pretty sure there’s flour in my hair too.”

“How’d you know I wanted cake?”

“You mentioned it last week when we watched Matilda, you said you wanted to celebrate with it when you finished finals. But more importantly, you love me back.” He grinned.

“I do.” She laughed. “I mean it, too. I love you.” 

“I could hear you say that for ages.” He smiled, looking pleased. “I swear I’ll never get tired of it.”

“Careful what you wish for.” She teased and reached up to kiss him again.

Rafe laughed against her lips, then pulled away just to press his forehead against hers. “I’m glad you waited, you know. I didn’t want you to say it back just to say it.” 

“You know I would have held out longer if I didn’t mean it.” She nudged her nose against his. “You’re still my favorite though.” 

He beamed and nudged her nose back. “Always my favorite, Soph.” 

[blueunoia]

❤ ──── ·․ under watchful eyes (pt. 2)

━━━   SYNOPSIS: the reader and arvin find themselves back together and share a moment of joy with the intent of keeping what happened between their families and reverend teagardin but it’s hard to keep secrets in a small town where secrets don’t stay buried for long. 

━━━  WARNINGS: teenage proposal, harassments/bullying, and (minimal) description of violence. 

━━━  NOTES: Movie spoilers towards end of story. As mentioned in the warning Arvin proposes to the reader despite them only being 18, I decided to do this because it was very common for teens to get married in the 60s, especially in a situation like this (very religious family or town and interest in sex) so I thought it would add some fluff and drama while being time accurate. Like I said in the last part, I don’t condone any of Arvin's action he clearly has severe anger issues at least and mentally ill as a result of his traumatic childhood at worst. Hope you enjoy!

━━━  WORD COUNT: 2,379

━━━  PART(S): part three

✦·․  ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․  ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ────  ․·✦

       The car ride home was the same as the ride to church: wordless. Arvin's hands clutched the steering wheel, and he stared with a stern gaze at the road ahead. Lenora wanted to say something, but she knew better not to. When Arvin was in a mood like this, it was almost always useless to calm him down. Unless it was you, somehow you always knew what to say. That or Arvin was so whipped that he just listened to you (and he didn't listen to anyone).

         When they finally arrived home, Arvin rushed inside, avoiding his Grams. Getting out of his church clothes, he thought about how likely it would be to get to the phone in the kitchen without his Grandma seeing. Then he thought about how likely it was that you'd even pick up or that your momma would let you talk to him. 

         Not likely, he surmised. So with a glance downstairs, he tried to bolt to his car so he could wait for Lenora in peace. She never took too long to get ready. Just pick out her dress and then brush her hair. Lenora didn't wear makeup; she never believed women should paint their faces like that. Arvin hadn't seen his grandmother, so he thought he'd be okay, but after almost reaching the door, he heard her call out. 

      "Now, Arvin, I know you aren't trying to sneak out with talking to me," she said. She was sat at the kitchen table with a disapproving look on her face. Pointing towards Arvin, she curved her fingers to herself, telling him to come to her. With a sigh, he followed, sitting down at the table. 

     "Yes?" he asked, annoyed. 

      "I know you're upset, but your gonna have to apologize to that priest-"

       "I ain't apologizing to that creep!" 

      Grams shook her head at his stubbornness, so much like his father, "You will. He is a man of God, and you tried to fight him! Do you know how many looks I'm gonna get when I go out into town? You can't be behaving like that. I won't allow it. I'm not gonna let you run wild like those city kids," she finished before standing up. Pointing the finger at Arvin, she held a stern look, "Don't you fight with me, boy."

       Arvin sighed, defeated; he didn't want his grandmother to be looked at poorly. He gave her a short nod before standing up himself, "I gotta go to school," he mumbled. Grandma nods but grabs him before he leaves, gripping the sides of his shirt and tucking them in for him. Arvin let out a little laugh at it. He swore she got more persnickety every year she grew older. 

         After that, she finally let Lenora and him leave for school. As they drove, Lenora smiled as she noticed Arvin's mood seemed to be better now. However, her smile faltered as Lenora saw Mrs. L/N car pass theirs. Arvin immediately took his eyes off the road to try and see Y/N. But she wasn't there. Lenora could see the change in Arvin's deposition as soon as he realized it; eyes back on the road, he gritted out, "Did you see her?"

       Lenora shook her head softly. "Maybe she was laying down?" she offered.

       Arvin's jaw tightened. "Her momma probably left her with that preacher," he growled. "I don't trust him."

        Lenora looks toward Arvin. "Why not? Pastor Teagardin seems nice."

        "Nice? He's a creep! I've seen how he's been looking at the girls. It ain't normal, Lenora," Arvin rants. "I don't want her left alone with him." 

         As they pulled into the school parking lot, Lenora grabbed her bag and opened the door, waiting to hear Arvin's door shut too. When the click never hit her ears, she turned around, seeing Arvin still in the car. Lenora frowns, "Aren't you coming in, Arvin?"

      He shook his head, "I got something to do."

      "You aren't going back to fight that preacher, are you?" Lenora huffs, "You can't-"

     "I'm not gonna fight 'im, Lenora. I just got something to do, okay?" Arvin asks, starting the car. His eyes had a pleading look. "Just don't tell Grams, alright? I'll be back to pick you up when schools out."

         Lenora sighs with defeat, "Alright. I won't tell Grams."

          He wasn't lying. Arvin did have something to do, and it didn't have to do with his bad feeling about that preacher. Arvin drove back to the lake that Reverend Teagardin had caught the two at for a specific reason. He lost an important thing there, an important box that held an essential ring for him. Arvin didn't intend to propose so soon. He wanted to wait 'til the summer came, and the two of you might've left town. With everything that happened, though, he could only imagine one way, your mother and father would let the two of you keep seeing each other. They were also stricter than his grandma, not too severe, but they followed his words when it came to God. 

         So Arvin was going to make an honest woman out of you. The only problem being he had the box in his car from when he bought it, and now Arvin couldn't find it, he remembered how he hastily hid it when you two went on your date, and all he could imagine is it fell out. So he drove back to the dreaded lake pulling in and checking for the Reverend. 

         Once he made sure the coast was clear, he got out of the car. Looking around the ground, Arvin didn't notice you when you stepped out from behind the tree you had hidden behind. You let out a breath when you realized it was Arvin, a smile etching itself on your face. Watching him closely, you saw him looking at the ground and bending down. What was he looking for?

       "Arvin?" you called out. 

Arvin stood up immediately, and his head spun around until he saw you. He couldn't stop himself from smiling and coming towards you, and then he realized what he was holding and hastily threw it in the dashboard. You ran to him and threw your arms around him. Arvin reciprocating faster than he ever had, squeezing you gently. "Are you alright?" he breathed out. 

"Yes," you said immediately, "I am now, at least." You pulled away from Arvin, putting a hand on his cheek. "I missed you," you said quietly. Arvin was never too good with words, so he nods before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, both of you deepening it quickly and your tongues caressing each other. When Arvin pulled away, he couldn't help but chuckle at the dreamy look on your face. 

         You bit your lip, "What if someone sees us again?"

         Arvin hadn't thought about that, but now you said that all he could think about is what would happen if Teagardin saw you two again. Undoubtedly, your parents would never let you see him. Grabbing your hand, he dragged you back into his car, and the two of you set off on a drive until you found somewhere else to stay. It was just a simple park, out of town where no one would see. You and Arvin held hands when you walked in, the two of you talking about your nights. You turn to him, "Do you like my new skirt?" it was off-topic, but you were smiling now genuinely smiling, so he didn't mind. 

        Arvin smiles back at you. "You look prettier than Kelly and Hepburn," he compliments. You smile shyly, and your cheeks flush with color. Arvin retakes your hand, bringing you to the nearby park bench. 

         "I wanted to ask you something," Arvin says, fidgeting with his hands. "With everything that happened... I know that your 'momma isn't going to let you see me anymore. Probably not for a while at least, and I don't want that. I know I don't say it often, but I love you. I love you a lot, Y/N, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life," he felt the bubble of nervous go from his stomach and rise into his chest. He couldn't help but second guess. You were both so young, but then again, most people got married around your age, maybe a little older right? He let out a breath and calmed himself, grabbing the ring from his jacket pocket. "I want you to marry me. I know it's soon, but it'd make your parents happy, and I want to be with you." 

          You looked at the ring he had in his hand in shock, but Arvin could tell from the smile on your face that you were happy, and soon enough, you threw your arms around him with a "Yes!" 

         For a moment, everything was perfect. The two of you sharing each other's warmth, Arvin is sliding the simple ring onto your finger, and nothing lousy stirring in your thoughts. It didn't seem like anything wrong could touch you two, but still, it did, and it started that night. 

         You had the head home soon after that. You never told Arvin what happened with the preacher. After Arvin proposed, it didn't cross your mind. You spent the car ride laughing, listening to music, and talking about how you thought everyone would react to your news. The two of you drove to the school first to pick up Lenora, and you thought about if you should take your ring off or not. You were so distracted that you didn't realize Lenora was running out of the school for the third time this week. Frowning, you open the door for her, and she jumped into the car. 

      "Y/N?" she asks, shutting it, but the noise of Gene and his gang coming out hollering stopped you from talking. Arvin drove off in a hurry glaring at the boys. They'd did their time, soon, he thought. Lenora noticed your ring, but you and Arvin had decided it'd be best not to tell her yet. Lenora wasn't known for her secret-keeping skills, but a part of you thought she knew. 

         You went to the cemetery with Lenora, all three of you traveling up to her mother's grave. Arvin couldn't help but notice your troubled looks the longer you stayed. He didn't ask why, though. It must've been about your momma, he told himself; it was getting a little dark out already. 

          So he drove you home after that. None of you expected to see the sheriff outside your home, though. Did she report you missing? You thought. That'd be a little extreme. As you stepped out of the car hastily, Arvin promised to stay behind in case something terrible broke out. Your breath hitched when you realized why the Sherriff was here. Arvin stepped out of the car at the terror on your face and felt the anger boil inside of him.

"W-H-O-R-E" was spelled out in red paint on your daddy's car. There were egg yolk and shells scattered across your yard and a broken window. Running up the hill, your mother saw you and pulled you into a hug. "Who did this?" you asked, tears pricking at your eyes. 

Your mother didn't acknowledge Arvin, who had ditched his cigarette and was now behind you, fists balled up. Your mother shook her head. "It was just some criminal boys," she pulls away from you, but her hands still tightly grasp your arms. "Where have you been?"

Arvin stomped off. He knew what 'rascal boys' your mother was talking about, and he wasn't going to sit here and let them torture you too. He ignored the bicker as he got into his car, hurling the door shut. 

"Is she okay?" Lenora asks softly.

         "She'll be fine. Let's get home."

When Arvin dropped off Lenora at the church the next day, he didn't stay with her. Your momma had kept you home, so when he returned to the school, he was just by his lonesome. Waiting patiently outside in his car, the rain poured down while he kept watching for Tommy Matson. Arvin kept himself busy by going through his pack of cigarettes, anxious about what he would do. It had to be done, though; he kept telling himself. Eventually, Tommy Matson came out with a girl, the two headings off to the bus to mess around. It made him angrier. How could he judge you when he was doing the same thing? Arvin made a noise outside of the bus, and Tommy came to check on it, not seeing Arvin before he pulled him out of the bus and brought down the tire iron on his back. 

After that, he set after Orville and Gene. Both of them were in the garage working on the car. Gene didn't see him coming when he slammed the car hood over him. He grabbed Orville and punched him a few times, rubbing the twinkie in his face before turning back to grab Gene, who tried to run off. Kicking Gene, he made sure to keep him down while he wrestled the brown paper bag over his head. If it weren't for the bag, Gene would be able to feel Arvin's breath. "You touch my sister or my girl again, and I'll kill you." 

Arvin left Gene there, and he saw Orville run off after he left the garage. He figured Orville helped Gene; he was wrong though, it'd take several hours until someone found him. The paper bag still on his head. Arvin wouldn't lie: he didn't feel bad about it. 

Arvin went and got Lenora from the cemetery, apologizing about how he missed it, but she didn't seem to mind. She didn't notice the blood on his knuckles either. Lenora seemed happier. "I know you probably got other things you'd like to do, so; I can come to the church on my own now."

Arvin didn't ask any questions about the sudden revelation from Lenora. He didn't realize how bad a mistake that was in the moment because in only a few more months, things would get worse than they ever had been, and he wouldn't have Lenora to confide in. 

✦·․  ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․  ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ────  ․·✦

I hope you enjoyed part two! I posted this on my AO3 (under the same name) first and kind of forget to post it on my tumblr so it’s a little late. I was kind of shocked at how many views it got on here but I’m happy people enjoyed it. 

Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment!

━━━  MASTERLIST

[ivvex]

CHAINS (ch. 2)

gif: clnriswood

Summary: After having sex with Kai, things are awkward, until they aren't. Kai has news, oh yeah, and some random sex toy you've never seen before. 

Warnings: Bondage, Kinks, Choking, Sex, Unprotected sex, drinking

Word count: 1096

__

The sky was pink. You had been in your room ever since you got home from the store.

“Who am I?” You spoke to yourself well you were curled up in your room. You never thought you'd submit so easily, well, you never wanted to submit. Kai was hypnotizing, you've known that, but he can also be kind. You grew thirsty. You wouldn't go to the kitchen due to the fear of facing him. You knew that you'd get wet to the sight of him, and that you would lose all self control, but your mouth was dry and you needed to go down at some point, so you lifted your soft legs from your bed and stood up. “Wow.” You whispered, realizing you were still sore. While wearing Kais sweatshirt, you tiptoed downstairs, and into the kitchen. The coast was clear as far as you could tell. You grabbed a crinkly water bottle, and your chips. ‘This should be good’ your mind spoke to you as you guided your way to the stairs.

“Sneaky.” You heard a voice speak. You were hesitant to turn to where the voice came from, so you took a breath and tried to continue walking. “Respond when I call you, princess.” Kai whispered after vamp running in front of you. The word princess makes your legs grow weak.

“Don't do this.” You whispered with a mean face.

“This?” The heretic questioned before he grabbed your chips.

“Well that wasn't what I meant, but how dare you?!” You screeched while reaching to them. Kai grabbed your wrist and smirked

“Sit down on the couch, now.” He spoke in a cold, emotionless voice. You stood frozen trying to identify the person in front of you, but you were interrupted when he picked you up, and threw you to the couch. “Why don't you listen to me?” he whispered as he got closer to your face “It's okay, you'll be getting your punishment.” His words lingered in the air. ‘Punishment? What?’ You thought to yourself as Kai walked over to his TV stand, where he grabbed handcuffs from a basket. He walked over to you and moved you, so he could cuff your hands and ankles together. He positioned you upward facing him.

“I know you're wearing nothing under that, and I can hear your heart beating extremely fast. I'll give you what you want if you are good for me.” He spoke in your face. You nodded. He removed his clothes and pulled out his shaft, which was bulging out in your face. He grabbed a handful of your soft hair and forced himself inside you, which you accepted. His eyes rolled back with the first few motions. You would stop every so often to kiss his hips, then you'd continue. You started salivating all over a place and gagging. He groaned extremely loud and chuckled. “If you gag, then i'm not treating you.” He slapped your ass, which made you wince, but you knew that you had to keep going. You had to do this for him. You felt him ejaculate into your mouth, which made him thrust into your mouth harder. You gagged. He choked you and pushed your head back onto a couch cushion.  “I told you not to gag, and you did.” He whispered onto your wet lips.

“I- i'm sorry I didn't mean to-” You pleaded, til he cut you off

“Its okay princess, it's just that i'm not gonna let you cum.” He whispered before biting your bottom lip. He bent down and grabbed something from his pocket.

“What the hell is that?” You questioned. No answer. He climbed onto you, having his shaft so close to you that you could feel the warmth. He kissed you with passion, using one hand to wipe the tears and cum off of your face, and the other to stick what appeared to be a plug inside of you.

“Ah-” You broke away from the kiss to moan, until he kissed you again, putting you in a choke hold with his left hand, and feeling your wetness with his right. His lips were extremely soft, and when you were kissing him, time stopped. He always used tongue, and you've noticed this. He pulled away and smiled.

“Clean yourself up. Don't remove the plug. I have news for you for when you are not covered in my cum.” He spoke in a mildly happy tone, you smiled at him before climbing out from under him.

__________________________________________________________________________

After your shower, you apply some oil to your hair, and you moisturize your face. You added some lotion to your arms and legs and dressed yourself. You put yourself into sweatpants, and a t-shirt, which felt nice on your shaven skin. While walking downstairs, you see Kai with a bottle of wine and a smile.

“Y/N! Come here!” He spoke with excitement, gesturing you toward his couch “I have news!”

“Okay..” You mumbled while bringing yourself to him. You feel the plug inside of you moving around, but you ignore it. “What's your news? Is it good enough that I have to drink a kind of wine I don't even like?”

“It's amazing news!” He spoke cheerfully. He seemed like a different person outside of sex. He was humorous, and gentle.

“Then tell me!” You responded with the same excitement as Kai

“I have a lead. I have a lead on your problem!” He paused to admire your bright smile, and then continued, “The Mikaelsons. I don't know what it is, but Klaus told me to bring you to him, and Rebekah said she might have an idea!” You listened to him speak with sunshine in his voice.

“What could it be?” You asked through a smile

“I don't know, but they've seen it all, so they have to have some info.” He responded through a sip. You poured a glass and chugged the wine out of it. You both giggled.

“I should probably sleep, Since we are gonna go out tomorrow, correct?” you said while standing up

“Yeah…” Kai said. You walked away and put your hand onto the railing that guided up the stairs “Hey uh-” Kai's voice made you stop in your tracks and turn around “Why don't you sleep in my room?”

“That sounds lovely, Malachai.” You responded.

His arms warmed you as you fell into a deep sleep. He would pull you closer throughout the night, and kiss your head. He talked you to sleep telling you how pretty he thought you are.

A lead. Answers. Hope.

[campgender]

Subject for a mixtape: boba’s Complicated Feelings about his dad and the clones :)

i do my father’s drugs by joe pug

when every revolution is sponsored by the state, there's no bravery in bayonets & tearin' down the gates. if you see me with a rifle, don't ask me what it's for; i fight my father's war

tyson vs douglas by the killers

when i saw him go down, felt like somebody lied; i had to hold my breath 'til the coast was clear. when i saw him go down, felt like somebody lied; i had to close my eyes just to stop the tears

south by hippo campus

i walk the same way my father told me: back straight, chest out, just like a soldier. back straight, chest out, just like a soldier

up the wolves by the mountain goats

i’m gonna get myself in fighting trim, scope out every angle of unfair advantage. i’m gonna bribe the officials, i'm gonna kill all the judges, it's going to take you people years to recover from all of the damage. our mother has been absent ever since we founded rome, but there’s gonna be a party when the wolf comes home

grace by florence + the machine

& you, you were the one i treated the worst only because you loved me the most. we haven't spoken in a long time. i think about it sometimes; i don't know who i was back then

send me a prompt & i’ll make a 5-song mixtape!

[yesmooshoe]

hii! could you do #34 "please don't do this" from the angst/fluff list for ironhusbands? 💖

Whoops, this was supposed to be short but then I wrote 3000 words. WARNING - THERE’S SOME SMUT AT THE END.

Also, you can read it on ao3! Double also, feel free to send me a prompt if you want.

--

“Please don’t do this.” Rhodey said through gritted teeth as Tony inched closer and closer to him.

“Do what?” He asked nonchalantly as their shoulders touched.

Rhodey took a deep breath and took a step away from Tony while scanning the crowded Officer’s Mess, hoping that no one saw that. “Touch me.”

“I thought you liked it when I touched you.” Tony said, cocking his head and flashing a smile.

Rhodey could feel his blood pressure rise as he locked eyes with Tony.

He hated this.

He hadn’t seen Tony in 13 months, 12 days, and 41 minutes...not that he was counting. Tony had begged him on multiple occasions to take some time off and come meet him somewhere, even just for a night, but Rhodey hadn’t wanted to risk it. Tony was famous. Someone would have noticed that he was in Frankfurt, someone would have noticed that Rhodey was off-base, someone would have snapped a photo of them buying lube. It was too risky, way too risky.

But this? This was way worse.

Yes, Stark Industries was the main manufacturer of planes for the US Air Force. And yes, there was a brand new cargo plane making its’ debut tomorrow. So in theory, Tony being at Ramstein made perfect sense. Plus, everyone knew that they were friends. But no one, other than maybe Pepper, knew the rest. If anyone found out that he was gay, his entire military career would be over.

“Fine, no touching. Can we at least eat lunch together? I promise I wont fellate you in between bites of powdered mashed potatoes.” Tony teased under his breath.

Of course he wanted to touch him, wanted to hold him, wanted to kiss him. But he also just wanted to talk to him. They were always careful while communicating, knowing that Rhodey’s email and phone conversations weren’t necessarily private. They never said I love you, but they’d found other ways to say and show that over the years. Tony always sent really elaborate and thoughtful care packages whenever Rhodey was overseas, and Rhodey always sent Tony weird souvenirs and postcards whenever he could. Rhodey always closed his letters by reminding Tony to water his plants, and Tony always ended his saying that he hadn’t forgotten. Rhodey didn’t even have any plants, but that was their little way of saying I love you with no one noticing.

“I have a meeting.” Rhodey lied, worried that spending too much time together would raise suspicion. “Just...just come over tonight, ok? After 7.”

Tony looked annoyed, but nodded. It was the same expression he had every time Rhodey signed up for another 4 years, or whenever he told him that he was being transferred or deployed again. They both hated this, but they loved each other and Rhodey loved his job. And Tony never once asked him to stop, so all they could do was hope that one day they’d get rid of that stupid law.

“Fine. See you tonight, Captain.” Tony said as he walked away, heading toward the group of SI employees at the opposite end of the room.

--

Rhodey’s heart was racing again as the clock struck 7, and a million different scenarios started running through his head. What if Tony had done something stupid like buy condoms at the PX? What if someone saw him coming up here? Even worse, what if someone noticed him leaving in the morning? They were friends though, best friends. Everyone knew that they were friends and knew that they’d been roommates for several years at MIT. There was nothing wrong with him coming over and spending the night, right? He’d just tell everyone that they had a few beers and then Tony passed out on the couch. It’d be fine, right?

Suddenly, a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He jumped right up and smoothed his pants out, not wanting to look like a complete mess, and then quickly crossed to the front door of his apartment, which he pulled open to reveal Tony. In one hand he was holding a pizza, and in the other a 12-pack of beer and a shopping bag.

Rhodey smiled at him as he stepped aside and let him in. He stuck his head out in the hallway to see if anyone was around, and once he was confident that the coast was clear he closed the door. Before he knew what was happening, Tony grabbed him, slammed him against the door, and started kissing him. Rhodey gave in immediately, running his hands up Tony’s back and tangling them in his hair.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, they just stood there for a moment with their foreheads resting against each other.

“Hi.” Tony panted out as his arms settled around Rhodey’s waist.

“Hi. Missed you.” Rhodey said before giving him another peck on the lips.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too. This has been a long one.”

“Just a few more months ‘til I’m back at Edwards, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Tony said as he pulled away and walked over to the counter where he’d dropped everything.

Rhodey came up behind and wrapped his arms around him, just so happy to be able to hold him again. “Well, we’ve got tonight, ok? I can promise you that.” He said in between pressing soft kisses to Tony’s neck.

Tony turned around and smiled at him, knowing that it would have to do for now. “And it’s going to be a good night indeed, Captain Rhodes.”

“You really like saying that, huh?”

“It’s hot.”

“Mmhmm.” Rhodey chuckled as he nuzzled against him. It’d only been a few weeks since his promotion.

“Oh Captain, my Captain, our night is just beginning, and I promise you it’ll be a wild one.”

“Not too wild, these walls are very thin.”

“Not to worry.” Tony said as he slipped out of his grip and grabbed the plastic bag. “Fear not, for I have rented several movies with lots of explosions that’ll certainly drown out all of your incomprehensible babbling while my tongue is buried deep in your ass in about 15 minutes.”

Rhodey could feel his cheeks getting hot as he looked down at the floor, always getting a bit flustered when Tony said stuff like that to him. “Did anyone see you at the video store? Does anyone know you’re here?”

Tony sighed as he played around with the VCR, which answered Rhodey’s question for him.

“Christ, Tony, who?” Rhodey asked, suddenly feeling anxious again.

“Calm down, ok? Look...Colonel Moore and Major Kirkland wanted to take me out to dinner, but I told them that I was coming over here to get you drunk and maybe beat your ass in Mario Kart a few times.”

“Moore and Kirkland? Tony, I work with them every day you can’t just go around telling everyone - “ Before Rhodey could finish his rant, Tony shut him up with another kiss.

“It’s fine. I promise you it’s fine. No one cares that I’m here, no one is suspicious, ok?” He said softly in between kisses. “I got pizza and shitty beer and even shittier action movies and as far as anyone knows we’re over here like a couple of perfectly normal straight dudes talking about tits and cheering when things explode, ok?”

Rhodey took a deep breath and nodded. That was certainly easy for Tony to say - it wasn’t his career and everything he’d worked for on the line - but he trusted him. “Well hey, I bet you’ll be cheering later when I explode in your ass, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Tony laughed and shook his head while playfully shoving Rhodey towards the bedroom. “That’s the spirit. Now go on, I want you completely naked by the time I’m done putting on this movie to appease your neighbors.”

Rhodey just smiled at him and pulled his shirt off as he rushed into his room. By the time he flopped onto his bed he was completely naked, though he hadn’t been wearing much to begin with. Still, it had to be a record.

He propped himself up on his elbows while laying on his back, and a huge smile spread across his face when Tony finally joined him. They took a moment to just look at each other, and even though the sound of rapid gun fire from whatever movie Tony had put on kept it from being super romantic, much like everything else, it’d do for now.

Tony’s hair was a bit longer than the last time he’d seen him, and it seemed like the goatee was here to stay. He hadn’t been sure about the facial hair at first, missing the baby-faced boy he’d fallen in love with back at school, but it really suited him. “Your hair’s wet, was it raining?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“No, I took a shower. I’m not an animal.” Tony answered while pulling his shirt off and climbing onto the bed and onto Rhodey. He leaned down and kissed him again, though this time it was more soft and more loving.

They spent a while just kissing and letting their hands get reacquainted with each other. Rhodey’s cock was hard now, and pressed up against the annoyingly still-clothed Tony. He wanted more, but he also didn’t want to stop whatever this was. He’d been so starved for attention like this for so long, so he did his best to just enjoy the gentle caresses and the way Tony’s tongue seemed to be exploring every single inch of his mouth, even though he desperately wanted Tony buried inside of him.

Eventually Tony sat up, and Rhodey just smiled as he noticed how red and puffy his lips were from all of the action so far.

“Have you...been with anyone? Since...since last time?” Tony asked quietly while slowly circling around Rhodey’s nipples with his thumbs. They had a sort of open thing, but neither really cashed in on it too much.

“No. Have you?”

“No.”

Rhodey smiled. “I love you, Tony.”

“I love you too. Roll over.” Tony instructed as he shifted to the edge of the bed.

“Yes sir.” Rhodey said as Tony pulled off his pants and boxers, finally releasing his cock.

“Mm, I like when you call me sir.” Tony said as he straddled Rhodey again. “God your ass is amazing. I feel like people don’t tell you that enough, but it really is perfect.”

Rhodey smiled at the compliment, but he was also focused on the gunfire and motorcycles coming from the TV in the next room. For a moment he worried that maybe it was too loud and that the neighbors would complain. That’s all he needed, having to run to the door mid-sex while trying to pull his sweatpants on. He considered stopping to turn it down, but all of the thoughts left his head as he felt Tony spread his ass cheeks apart and slowly run his tongue up his crack.

“Oh fuck.” Rhodey moaned while tightening his grip on the blankets he was clutching. Luckily his bed was against an exterior wall, so he wasn’t worried about being too loud in here. As Tony continued to explore, slowly circling his tongue around the rim and prodding at the hole, Rhodey became painfully aware of how desperate his cock was for attention. It was pinned between his stomach and the bed and he tried to move a bit, but it was impossible with how Tony was holding him down. “Tony please…” He cried out quietly.

“Please what?” Tony asked smugly as he pulled away. He slowly crawled up on top of Rhodey and started grinding his cock against Rhodey’s eager ass. “Come on, what do you want, Sourpatch?”

“I want you.”

“Want me to what?”

“I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.” Rhodey moaned again before Tony pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Good boy.” He said as he sat up. “Lube?”

“Night stand. Bottom drawer.” Rhodey replied breathlessly, still not quite believing that they were together again.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” He asked as he found all of the supplies.

“No, I trust you.”

“Okay. I trust you too. Ooh, Astroglide! How retro.” Tony almost giggled as he climbed back onto the bed.

Rhodey rolled onto his back and wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself slowly as Tony got settled again.

“Hey hey, none of that. I don’t want you cumming before I even get inside of you.” Tony teased as he opened up the bottle and squirted some of the clear liquid in his hand. “You want it like this?”

Rhodey nodded as he let go of his cock. “Yeah. I want to see you.”

Tony just smiled before leaning down to give him a kiss. “Good.”

Rhodey took a deep breath while Tony grabbed a pillow and put it under his back for easier access, and Rhodey just let his legs fall open for him. They locked eyes as Tony’s slick hand found Rhodey’s hole, and stayed that way as Tony worked a finger in and out of him. They kissed more as Tony fingered him slowly, and the sensation of their cocks trapped together between their stomachs was more than enough to make Rhodey start dribbling pre-cum.

“Someone’s excited.” Tony whispered between kisses.

“Just fuck me, please.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Tony said with a little salute as he sat up and pulled his fingers out of Rhodey’s ass.

Rhodey watched as he grabbed the lube again and slicked himself up, and he braced himself for what was coming next. He sucked in a sharp breath as Tony lined himself up and pushed into his ass slowly, doing his best to relax and take it.

“Fuck!” Rhodey cried out as he arched his back, easily taking Tony’s cock deep inside of him.

“Shh shh.” Tony said as he bottomed out. “Don’t want the Joint Chiefs to hear you. You ok?”

“Yes Tony, this isn’t my first Rodeo. Just shut up and move.”

Tony laughed again as he guided Rhodey legs up to rest on his shoulders. Slowly, he started to move, thrusting in and out of and finding a good rhythm. Rhodey was letting out little gasps with each thrust at first, and as soon as Tony started to pick up the pace he wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking in rhythm with the thrusts. He forced himself to open his eyes, and he smiled at the determined look on Tony’s face as he loomed over the top of him.

“God Tony, I’m so close. Faster.” He moaned again, gripping at the bad with his free hand. This was all happening a bit faster than Rhodey had hoped, but it had been a while and he was certain he’d last longer on the next round.

Tony started snapping his hips faster, losing his composure as he got closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, I’ve missed this.” He managed to say before grabbing Rhodey’s hips and slamming him back down on his cock as they both chased release.

They fell silent for a while, but the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and a huge series of explosions from the living room.

It was Rhodey who came first, spraying his stomach with an explosion of creamy, white liquid as Tony continued to ride him harder and faster. It was becoming too much for Rhodey, overwhelmed by his own own orgasm. “Fuck, come on Tony. Give me everything.” He chanted through gritted teeth, which seemed to be just enough to push him over.

Tony came with an indistinguishable string of syllables, which he quickly muffled as he continued to thrust, filling Rhodey with everything that he had. They were both panting as Tony finished up and let his cock slip out of him, but despite how out of it Rhodey felt, Tony seemed to have a bit more in mind for this first session.

As Tony caught his breath he leaned down and ran his tongue over Rhodey’s toned stomach, lapping up the streams of cum that were splattered all over him. Rhodey just relaxed as Tony cleaned him up, tugging on his shaggy brown hair as he did. When Tony was done he crawled up and gave Rhodey a kiss, allowing him to taste some of the salty substance that remained on his lips.

“Do you want pizza?” Tony asked after a few moments of silence, which just made both of them laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” Rhodey said as he playfully shoved Tony off of him.

“What? I’m hungry. And we gotta keep up our stamina. We’ve got 12 hours to make up for 12 months.” Tony teased as he sat up and ran his hands through his hair.

“You need a haircut.”

“Yeah well, I wanted to give you something nice and long to grab onto later when we get really dirty.” Tony said as he stood up.

Rhodey just shook his head. “Fine. But I’m taking you to a barber before you leave. Also, it’s not been 12 months.”

“Hm?”

“It’s not been 12 months. It’s been 13 months, 12 days, 7 hours, and 38 minutes.” He said as another explosion rang out in the living room.

“Oh, and I’m the ridiculous one? Come on, pizza.”

“Tony?” Rhodey called out as he started to leave. He wanted to promise him that they wouldn't go 13 months without seeing each other again. He wanted to promise that he’d be back in California soon. He wanted to promise that he wouldn’t re-up again when the time came.

But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. He shook his head, vowing to do his best to not dwell on any of that right now. They had tonight, and that was what was important.

Tony was just staring at him, confused by the silence. “Yes?”

“Nothing.  I’m just - I’m sorry.”

Tony walked back over to the bed and held out his hand. “Don’t be, I knew what I was signing up for, ok? Come on, pizza time. And if you’re lucky I’ll let you fuck me next round.” He said as he pulled him up and led him into the kitchen.

“Tell you what. Mario Kart. Loser has to bottom, all right?” Rhodey suggested with a huge smile on his face.

Tony just smiled. “Fine, but I hope you’re ready for me to ride your ass all night, Captain.” He said as he grabbed the box of pizza and headed for the living room.

Again, none of this was ideal. But right now, in this stupid apartment with thin walls in the middle of Germany, everything was perfect.

[parkerpeter24]

summer on you

Pairing ➳ harrison osterfield x reader

Warnings ➳ anxiety, swearing, fluff, ugh this is literally based off my blood-sucking teacher.

Word count ➳ 2.3k words

So, let me wish all my birthday buddies! First of all, a very happy birthday to haz boy! Next, I would like to dedicate this fic to my lovely friends @allegra-writes​ and @spideygirl2003​​ also, this was inspired by the song ‘ summer on you’ by PRETTYMUCH

Baby, I ain’t got no money

All I got is time

And I’m gon’ spend that time on you

But when they pay me

And I can buy the sunshine

Take you away, we’ll drink champagne

While holed up in a room

“Yes ma’am, you don’t have to worry about that.” You uttered in the speaker of your mobile typing away the details on the empty spreadsheet that was now on the screen of your laptop. You had spent most of your week like that, sitting in a corner and completing the details of your colleagues in the said spreadsheet. It was killing you, but your boss gave you no option. You just wanted to ditch her and get some rest, or a long, relaxing bubble bath at least.

Then your phone went off, again, pulling you out of your relaxative thoughts and you groaned loudly. Without even looking at the contact you picked up the call and started in the same hoax voice, “Hello, ma’am!”

You were expecting her to go off on you again because you were taking such a long time in typing the name of a few fellow mates and creating the spreadsheet as “higher authorities” had asked for them immediately, but all you heard was the sweet voice of her best friend, “Still working?”

You sighed in relief, pushing your laptop farther from you on the table and rested your head on the cool glass surface. You hummed along as he chuckled. You knew he didn’t mean to make fun of you, it was rather a pity chuckle, “Why don’t you just stop for a while,” he gulped before continuing, “What the hell is that green juice on your dining table?!” He complained, making you gasp and let out a giggle.

“I knew it! Now, what exactly are you doing at my house Haz?” You asked in a serious tone, but failed miserably, “You know I didn’t give you my keys so that you can barge in my house at any time you want!”

He just laughed it off and you sighed, putting the phone on speaker, and pulled the laptop in its initial position to start typing.

“What’re you doing in the office anyway?” He questioned, hearing the soft typing sound of your laptop as he moved towards your kitchen to grab some of your homemade cookies, “I thought it was supposed to be your day off.”

“Ms Vibha sent me here to get the essential files to fill in some fucking details in this fucking spreadsheet.” You gritted your teeth. Haz could sense your expression from your tone as he sighed, “I didn’t even grab any food today, I was in such a rush-” You continued but stopped when you realized that there was an eerie silence on the other side, not a sigh, not even the sound of a footstep, it almost felt intimidating.

“(Y/n),” Haz finally spoke up, his tone serious, making you shift uncomfortably in your work chair. You hummed after a good few seconds, “Wh-what’re anti-depressant pills doing on your kitchen counter?”

Your eyes widened in shock, ‘shit!’ you cursed under your breath. You didn’t realise that you forgot to put those pills in your bag when you were “in such a rush” this morning.

You fell silent contemplating on whether to say something or stay quiet. He didn’t say anything, making you more anxious than ever, and the most depressing part was that your anti-depressants weren't with you. You cleared your throat uncomfortably finally deciding to break the silence, “Haz I can-”

“Can we meet when you get off work?” He asked and you gulped, nodding your head even though you knew he couldn’t see it. There was no way you could escape from it now, he found out that you had anxiety, he would probably leave you forever now.

“Okay.” You said finally before he hung up the phone. You groaned seeing five missed calls from your boss. What an asshole.

----------

You rang the bell beside the door when you reached Harrison’s apartment. Soon the door was opened and you were led in until you were sitting on the couch and a glass of water was placed in front of you on the wooden table.

Harrison had been quiet the whole time you were there. He seemed to think about something deeply as he cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly but he only stared at the ground.

“Haz,” You finally said in a shaky voice making him look up at you, fast enough to notice the tears in the corner of your eyes, his expression softened, “I have the pills because-”

“Would you go on a road trip with me?”

“W-what?” You asked in return to his sudden question.

He gave you the best ‘seriously?’ face he could muster before speaking, “(Y/n), you are in the dire need of a vacation.” He stated, getting up from his designated chair and sitting on the same couch as you, but he sat on the other end rather than sitting right beside you. He knew it would take a lot of efforts to finally convince you to take this break.

“But- but my boss, and the spreadsheets- I- it’s not possible Haz.” You stuttered and Harrison’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘Poor thing’ he thought. What the fuck has that blood-sucking a-hole done to you?

“Come on...” He pouted, extending the last syllable, “Just two days, give me two days. Please.” He pleaded. Now, to be honest, Harrison is a charming boy. And when he asks you something as tempting as that, you can’t resist the offer.  Besides that, you had always adored the blond haired man, you always have, and you could bet that he had the same heart in his eyes while looking at you that you had whenever you saw him. You sighed in defeat while a smile painted on Harrison’s face.

“Two days. That’s all you get.”

Darling, I've been working all week

I've got so much on my plate

Always saying “poor me”

Although my boss is an a-hole

That's when you call me

Said you've been making a plan

To hit the road with me

You sighed, feeling the wind brush against your face and your hair flowing with the wind. Harrison turned to look at you for a moment before fixating his gaze back on the road.

Everything was peaceful. Finally. Harrison has taken your phone away from you in the prospect of keeping your anxiety at the lowest level, and to be honest, it was working. You were smiling softly when Harrison saw you. You looked like an angel in that beautiful dress and your hair flowing back. He made you smile. The thought made him smile proudly as a blush adorned his face.

You turned to look at him with the same smile plastered on your face. You were on a long road surrounded by trees all over. The sky was grey, it was about to rain. People would say the scene looked that of a cliché thriller movie, but you were loving it. Everything was perfect. The weather, the company, the way he looked, your hand brushing his on the gear, feeling him stealing glances at you. Perfect.

The car finally came to a halt and you looked at the small lodge in front of your eyes. It was a typical wooden cabin surrounded by a dense forest, away from the urbanisation, and you loved it.

You tried to help Harrison with carrying the bags inside but every time you offered, like a gentleman, he denied and told you to fuck off.

Just like a gentleman.

It was raining when you finally settled inside your respective rooms. You made your way out of the room and into the common room. You had a long time before dinner to yourselves –it seemed like it would be a long time until the rain stopped– so you started fidgeting with Harrison’s guitar.

He watched you with a smile as you tried to play a song but it sounded out of tune. He laughed and you squint your eyes at him, “What’re you laughing at?”

“It’s just that, you’re cute when you mess the chords up.” He laughed some more as a blush covered your face.

“You can’t play any better than me.” You mumbled, but he might’ve heard it because the next moment he was next to you, holding the guitar, ready to play a song.

You smiled, a flutter in your heart, as you saw him strum the strings to your favourite song, the pitter-patter of rain complementing the soothing voice of guitar.

We’ll hit the coast on the late night

Make love ‘til daylight

I love it when you play with my hair

You know it feels so nice

And I’ll do what you like

Naked in the moonlight

We don’t care if we are broke

When love is all we own

The loud sound of thunder woke you up. You suddenly sat up in your bed. You were not scared, just shocked by the suddenness of the storm brewing outside and a little worried.

You made your way to the next door and slowly opened it, feeling the cold doorknob against your skin.

Harrison was sleeping peacefully as you leaned against the doorframe. You couldn’t stop but stare at the sleeping beauty, it calmed you a little.

You sighed, moving to sit on the bed and gently shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes ever so slightly and looked at you, “Hey,” You greeted sheepishly.

“Hey, ever heard about sleep?” He questioned with a hoarse voice, and his british accent made it even more beautiful, sending a soft shiver down your spine. He saw you playing with the hem of the bedsheets and asked, this time with a more concerned voice, “What is it?”

You looked at him with slightly wide eyes. Harrison felt like someone had just splashed gallons of water on his face and the next moment he was wide awake, you looked so beautiful under the soft lamplight and when the thunder roared, the light reflected on your skin. But you flinched a little, “Can I- can I stay in here tonight?”

He smiled, opening his arms so you could lay there. And you did, sighing as his warmth engulfed you already making you feel protected.

As another loud thunder sounded outside you snuggled into Harrison, his hands in your hair, brushing the soft (y/h/c) out of your face.

When you woke up, the next morning, you were alone in the bed. You rubbed your eyes and looked around to see any sign of Harrison but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You roamed around the old cabin and finally found him in the front, loading some things on top of the car. He saw you standing by the door and smiled, “Morning, sleepyhead!”

You laughed, moving closer to where he was, “What is all this?” You asked. He just pointed towards the clear, blue sky as you followed his finger.

“If you haven’t noticed darling,” He started, making you blush at the nickname, “The sky is all clear and so we’re going to the beach!”

I’m singing hey babe

Two jobs on minimum wage

Although the rent’s late

Still got a smile on my face

We ain’t got the sunshine

But we got hearts in our chest

To feel the love like this

Stronger than anyone else

You were really excited throughout the car ride to the beach, and on finally reaching there you ran out of the car. It was mostly empty with a few people around, overall a nice place to be.

You and Harrison had the day to yourselves. You spent the day swimming in the ocean and splashing water on the other, it was great. Laying under the sun after lunch, and finally, you decided to go surfing.

You sat on your surfing board watching the enticing view when the sun started going down, Harrison beside you, silently watching you instead of the beautiful pastel sky.

You were literally very happy that Harrison took you to this place. You needed this break. And even if you didn’t know what would happen when you returned back to your normal, hectic life, you didn’t care, not right now.

 “What is it?” You asked, eyes still set on the sunset. Harrison’s eyes widened a little when you caught him staring, “Do you want to say something?” You asked again, waiting for him patiently but he just stared at you with an open mouth, you chuckled, “I’m really happy that you convinced me to come here with you.” You said with a grateful smile.

He just looked at you and smiled back before silence filled the surroundings. A few moments later, the sun had almost disappeared into the horizon and you suggested to Harrison that the both of you should head back to the cabin, but he didn’t say anything, just staring ahead, “(Y/n),” He sighed finally.

You looked at him expectantly, “What happened?”

“I do have to say something.” He looked into your eyes with his beautiful aqua blue ones. You waited for him to continue, “I-I felt it my responsibility to make you happy when I found those pills just sitting on your kitchen counter. You should’ve told me earlier (Y/n)! I would’ve never let that get to you! And I-”

“I love you.” You cut him off mid-sentence, “I’m sorry I made you worry.” You looked down.

“Hey,” He swam closer with soft eyes, “I love you too.” He smiled, stopping just beside you, close enough that you could reach over and just kiss him senseless.

But he did it first.

He led your chin up with the help of his finger, guiding you to his soft lips and you melted into him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you down from your surfing board as he smiled into the kiss. You could feel it in the air, it was something different. And you knew it was going to stay like that for a long, long time.

Oh I will spend my summer on you.

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[imaginethathaikyuu]

ma’am,, i beg of you to write some heart stomping unrequited love angst w/ tsukishima, akaashi & terushima. fem!reader loves character so much but their love is unrequited? take it however you want, & if u can make it HECKA hurtful. you can also switch things (e.g., one character falls in love with someone else/ r catches them kissing someone else as they confess/ they are dating someone else/ etc) scenario style & thank u so much! love ur work — gore anon :’)

i know i don’t usually write angst but i thought i’d give it a go ahhh if angst isnt your thing, don’t read these, no happy endings were found in these scenarios

terushima’s is only slightly nsfw!

-

akaashi keiji

“So, are you nervous?” 

“That’s a silly question, Bokuto, of course I’m nervous.” 

“I’m just asking. It’s not like I’ve ever been married before.” 

“I haven’t either.” 

“Yet.” 

While your two best friends were chatting away, you tried your hardest to zone them out. You weren’t doing a great job, though, considering you were able to hear something Bokuto said that you knew was directed at you. 

“Well, you do still have one more day ‘til you’re officially a married man, so…” 

“…So?” 

Bokuto looked over to you, catching your striking glare. It made him sink in his seat just a bit. 

“Nothing! Just saying.” 

“Well, I’d prefer if we don’t talk about it,” Akaashi said. “I just wish you guys knew how nervous I am right now.” 

“Just get drunk, that’ll fix it,” Bokuto said, to which Akaashi snorted at. 

“That actually isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had… Y/N, what do you have?” 

“Go find out,” you replied, pointing toward the kitchen. Akaashi stood up and followed your direction to do just that. 

When the coast was clear, Bokuto loudly whispered, “Y/N!”

Already knowing what he was about to say you replied, “Shut up, Bo.” 

“No!” He got up from his seat and moved over to sit next to you on the couch. “This is your last chance. Once he’s married, that’s it! You’ll never ever get to tell him!” 

“You think I don’t know that?” you asked, focusing on the TV, trying to tune him out.

Bokuto inched closer to you, desperate to get your attention. “Y/N, you have to tell him. I’m serious.”

“No,” you deadpanned. “I already told you how I plan on dealing with it -” 

“By missing your best friend’s wedding and never speaking to him again - yeah, I know that, but -” 

“Y/N!” 

Bokuto’s words were interrupted by Akaashi’s call of your name - which managed to give you butterflies. In your attempt to stand up and walk toward his voice, Bokuto grabbed your wrist. 

“Tell him, Y/N,” he said, his brown eyes staring holes into yours. “It doesn’t matter if he feels the same. You’ll feel better.” 

You yanked your arm from his grip and forced your thoughts of he’s right to go away. And when you made it to the kitchen, you refused to let yourself look at Akaashi. 

“Yeah?” 

“Where are your shot glasses?” 

“You’re really getting drunk?” you chuckled. You looked up at him because you just couldn’t help yourself, seeing his smiling face and your bottle of rum on the counter top behind him - the one you planned on downing tomorrow while Akaashi was busy getting married. 

“Yeah, I am,” he replied almost sheepishly. “Just… need to get my mind off of things.” 

“I get that,” you nodded. You understood too well - that’s the reason you bought the alcohol in the first place. “Anyway, uh, they’re in the cabinet behind you…” 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I looked there.” 

He stepped to the side as you walked up to the cabinet and opened it, seeing the glasses sitting right there on the second shelf. They weren’t hard to find. 

“I must’ve overlooked them…” 

You turned around to see that you were much, much closer to him than you thought you’d be - you took a deep breath, your gasp was audible. But you couldn’t back away. Your eyes scanned his face; his gentle blue eyes, the slight curve of his nose, the way his skin looked so up close. They landed on his lips, which were slightly parted and maybe even a bit chapped and were the same lips that’d be kissing his wife in less than 24 hours. 

And that thought seemed to punch you in the gut. 

“Sorry,” you said as you stumbled back. “Uh, here.” 

You passed him the shot glass and it was like he didn’t even notice that time had stopped for you. He got right to pouring himself a shot; didn’t waste any time tossing it back or pouring a second one, either, while you stood against the counter with your arms crossed. 

When were moments like those going to stop? 

Whenever you made them stop, is what you figured. 

After downing the second glass, he turned and looked at you as if he was expecting something. It was almost like he knew you had something to say. 

You had never planned on going to Akaashi’s wedding. And even when he wasn’t engaged, you knew that the day would come eventually. He had given you years of friendship, but you couldn’t make yourself give him that one day. You didn’t have it in you to watch him officially give himself to someone else. 

And maybe he deserved to know that. 

“About tomorrow…” 

“Don’t remind me,” he said. “I’m so fucking nervous - I’ll probably be a nightmare to deal with, sorry for that in advance…” 

“…Yeah.” 

He sat his empty glass on the counter. “I just want everything to go perfect, you know?” 

You didn’t reply - you rarely did when he spoke about things like this. You just had nothing to say. 

He filled the shot glass again. “Want a shot?” 

You took it from him without hesitation, emptying the glass almost desperately. The burn in your throat was a good distraction from the pit in your stomach, it compelled you to finally say something you’d wanted to. 

“Weddings aren’t really my thing, you know.” 

“Me neither, believe it or not.” 

You passed the shot glass back to him. Your fingers managed to brush against his and the touch seemed to give you a spark of courage. 

“I was thinking about, um… Just, you know, staying home.” 

“That’s not funny,” he said as he poured himself a third round. “Remember, you’ve got to get there early for emotional support in case my tux doesn’t fit.” 

All you could do was stare at the floor. 

“It’ll fit,” you told him. It was hard to speak through the lump in your throat. “You shouldn’t be so nervous, Keiji, it’ll… it’ll be perfect.” 

You had cried over this enough, and you were growing tired of it - of everything. Tired of always putting your feelings for Akaashi before your own well-being. Of putting Akaashi before yourself. He was the one you were in love with, but he was also the one stopping you from ever moving on with your life. 

If you told him, your friendship would be destroyed. Or his own relationship would be ruined. Or he’d never be able to look at you again. Those are the things you told yourself over and over again, but you didn’t want to hear it anymore. 

“Do you really think so?” he asked. “I’ve gained some muscle, you know.” 

“Of course,” you replied. Your own words were overwhelming you, but you forced yourself to say them. “You’re going to have the perfect wedding… even if things go wrong, those aren’t the things that matter. You’ll be… marrying your best friend, so… so that’s what matters.” 

The smile he gave you made you fall in love with him all over again. 

“Thank you,” he said. “You’re right.” He pulled you into a hug and you just melted against him. 

Maybe you should tell him. Maybe getting it off your chest would help you feel better. But you could never be so selfish. 

Tomorrow, the love of your life would be marrying someone else. And it was time for you to come to terms with that. 

terushima yuuji 

“Y/N,” Yuuji groaned as he stepped closer to you, managing to corner you. “I really need some stress relief…” 

You sent him a smirk, even though you felt your stomach turn. 

“Oh, so that’s what you’re here for?” 

Your words came off much lighter than you wanted them to. The teasing edge perked Yuuji’s ears; he couldn’t hear your disappointment. 

“You caught me,” he said, giving you that award winning smile of his. “Care to help me out?” 

His hands took purchase onto your hips before you could reply - he just knew you’d say yes. You always had a certain look in your eyes when he spoke to you this way, that look of need and desire that seemed to charge him. 

You tried to catch his lips, but he was good at dodging your kiss; he tucked his face into your neck as his fingers worked the buttons of your shirt. 

Always quick to get you undressed, but not because he was eager to see you. It was because he was only there for one thing. 

He got you to your bedroom, somehow - you don’t quite remember the tumble getting there, you never do. You were underneath him and way too comfortable even though his touch was rough and hurried. You let the man do as he pleased with you - how couldn’t you? You loved him. You cherished these moments because they were the only ones you’d get. 

You were good at pretending that Yuuji was doing this because he wanted you - you had almost managed to forget the time he moaned someone else’s name while you were only moaning his. 

He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to get to know your body, to be closer to you, to make love to you. He wasn’t even thinking about you. 

Knowing that didn’t stop you from giving in to him, though. It didn’t stop you from hoping that one day he’d actually stay after doing this with you. 

He never would, though. After all, this was exactly what Yuuji said it was. 

Stress relief. 

tsukishima kei 

You had never seen your best friend so upset. 

From an outsider’s perspective, no one else would be able to tell. Kei was simply laying on his bed with quite a bored looking expression, staring up at the ceiling. 

But you could see it. The tear stains on his cheeks, his red eyes behind his glasses were a clear sign he had been crying before allowing you into his room. His hands were clammy - he was actually letting you hold his hand, and he was holding on to yours for dear life. His eyes looked like they were dancing across the room, obviously his mind was racing. 

“I just don’t get it,” he kept saying. His breathing was ragged, he was struggling to inhale deep enough to stay as calm as he wanted to be. His grip on your hand tightened, “What did I do wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you said. It broke your heart to see him like this. You just wanted to hug and kiss his sadness away. “You did nothing wrong, Kei. You’re perfect the way you are.” 

He shook his head, obviously not believing you. According to him, there had to be a reason his girlfriend up and left him - she wouldn’t just do that out of the blue, would she?

You always had a feeling something like this would happen - Kei was far too good to be with someone like her, and that wasn’t just your jealousy speaking. You were sure he was too good to be with you, too, and that’s probably why you’ve never had the courage to confess your feelings for him. 

She never put him first. His priorities never mattered to her; their relationship was all about what she wanted. You knew that because Kei himself had told you. 

It had completely destroyed his confidence. You had watched him go from being a strong, composed, levelheaded man to someone who saw nothing but his flaws. It was as if he had reverted back to the mindset he had in high school.

It was sad to see. For the longest time, there was nothing you could do to help. But right now, you knew there was only one way to convince him of how perfect he truly was. 

In your eyes, he was absolutely flawless. You loved him for his snide remarks and cold exterior; you cherished him more than anything, and it was time for him to know that. 

You didn’t even feel nervous. You were ready to tell him, almost excited to get it off your chest. 

“Kei…” you started, taking a deep breath, holding onto his hand as tight as you could. “You shouldn’t care about what she thinks, Kei, I -” 

His phone rang, he ripped his hand from your grip, and your words were stuck in your throat. 

“It’s her,” he said, sitting up and staring at his screen. A smile grew on his face that made your heart sink. He answered the call without hesitation. 

And from what you could hear of their conversation, you could tell he wouldn’t be needing your reassuring confession any time soon.

[jazoriah]

Chaos and Clockwork

Here is my ZR secret santa for @wubbelwubbwubb .

Thank you for setting this up, @runnerzero

Title: Chaos and Clockwork

Length: 2970 words

Pairing: Amelia/Five

Rating: Teenplus

Summary: Some thoughts on the predictability of life.

The world is chaos.

Runner Five knows this. She learned when her carefully constructed life was brought crashing down by a delivery guy with a cough. Small events escalate and however hard you try to drive the course of events you cannot know where you will be in a day, a month, a year.

Beyond that, she is pretty sure the destination is obvious. All threads lead in a single direction.

All she can do is run, and hope that her influence is enough to keep the people around her above water.

And you know, most of the time she’s pretty good at it! Even with all her mistakes, all the moments that haunt her, she knows that Abel is a safer place because of what she does. She runs, she retrieves, she investigates. She draws the zombies to her and away from the pulsing heart of her community. Runner Five rides the chaos, and her family rides with her.

But even the most resilient, adaptable runner can be blindsided on a mission. Little details have consequences. Little events, like the fizzle of a wire in a wall, which blows a fuse, which shuts down the heavy electronic doors in the abandoned military base, which traps three exhausted runners in a corridor that is slowly, inevitably filling with smoke.

Four reaches the metal door and slaps her hands on it in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?” she shouts.

Peter jogs to the control panel, tapping at the buttons insistently to no effect.

“Veronica, what’s going on?”

A tinny voice pipes up in their headsets.

“I’ve lost contact with the door system. It’s completely shut down.”

“It’s all wired into the mainframe right? Can’t you just reboot?”

“There is no connection point for me to access. There must be a hardware fault.”

“Can’t you do something?” asks Jodie, determinedly scanning the area.

“Not with that door. I’ll see if I can clear you a way in the other direction.”

Five’s head shoots up, and she and Peter lock eyes.

“You mean,” says Peter, “the way that’s full of zombies? And fire? And zombies on fire?”

“There is a twenty-two per cent chance that I can draw the zombies to the other end of the complex with strategic broadcasts. You will have to crawl through some of the rooms to avoid smoke inhalation. There is a one hundred per cent chance that staying in this corridor will cause Runner Five and Runner Four to asphyxiate within twelve minutes.”

“Right! Hot-zom-dodging it is!” declares Peter. Beside him, Five lets out a choking cough and lowers herself to the ground to avoid the worst of the smoke.

The three of them crawl back to the door they had entered. They can faintly hear the pulsing tones of Veronica’s broadcasts, but the scratching of undead fingers against the metal does not cease.

“It’s not working,” says Jodie.

Five blinks grit from her eyes, pulling her backpack off her shoulder and desperately scrounging in case there were any of Steve’s explosives that she might have missed. She bites her lip in frustration and tries to breath shallowly, fighting off a coughing fit.

Peter’s eyes are watering and she can see Jodie scrunching her brow against a growing headache.

“The tones are not working,” says Veronica, unnecessarily. “I cannot draw them away. But if you can get past them there is another exit on the left that will bring you to the southwest hills.”

Five grits her teeth, closing her eyes in a moment of impotent frustration. Then she nods, and swings her bag onto her back. Jodie rolls herself onto the balls of her feet, falling into the stance of a sprinter at the starting block.

Peter glares at the door, and says, “Hug the wall on the left and keep me between you and the zoms. I’ll keep you shielded as best I can.”

Five frowns, but can see that it is the only real course of action. She wonders what it must be like for your life to become one long, unending shriek of self-sacrifice. She feels for him, but it makes sense. It always does.

“Door opening in three.”

Five coughs, tensing her body.

­“Two”

She closes her eyes for a single moment.

“On –“

“Hold your horses, traumatic trio,” cuts in a new voice on comms. Jodie trips forward as her launch is aborted half way through.

“What?”

“Honestly, I leave you to your own devices and you decide to throw yourself directly into a field of flaming corpses.”

“Amelia??” gasps Peter.

“Who else would be saving you precious freckled hides?” comes the gleeful reply. “Now, I’m going to need you to stay up the far end of that corridor so this itty bitty explosion doesn’t cut you to bits.”

Five blinks twice, then curls back into herself, hands thrown over her head. Peter stretches himself so that his body covers as much of the other runners as possible.

“Honestly,” says Amelia, almost chastising, “what would you all do without me?”

The door explodes.

--

Everything is clockwork.

Amelia knows this. She has always known it.

People are ultimately predictable objects. With the right influences, the right leverage, objects can be manipulated in a myriad of useful ways.

So could businesses. So could markets. With enough forward planning, so could entire societies.

It wasn’t that she didn’t value the people she interacted with. It was just that she did not hold with the romanticised mystery that other people assigned to them. The world was not an open system to glide through and hope for the best. It was a finely tuned machine. You can admire the cogs and gears and even enjoy their company, but if you can point them in the direction that suits you and get something out of it, then why the hell wouldn’t you?

She will admit that the apocalypse was not something she could control, but experts had been warning for years about the various risks to society and it was not in her nature to leave things to chance. Within a month of the outbreak, she had a supply chain of biscuits, tampons and condoms stretching along the west coast. Within two, she had secured a high position in the newly established Ministry.

Since then, it had not been quite smooth sailing. As it turned out, that Ministry was not where she saw herself long term and there had been a pesky few machine parts that kept getting gummed up in the works.

Take these three idiots for example. Give them a room with nothing but a chair and a candle and they would somehow unearth a conspiracy to enslave all mankind and immediately get marked for death by the local sociopath and his pet murderbot.

Five is the worst. Stubborn and righteous in all the wrong ways with a sacrificial streak that is barely made up for by that incredible arse. Honestly, the woman would run over a field of needles if it kept her precious Abel residents from a papercut. And she’d hold her head high like a bloody fallen angel the whole way. Moron.

Which is of course why Amelia’s lovely afternoon had to be interrupted again.

She had been enjoying an Irish coffee with rather more Irish than is strictly recommended when her home network alerted her to a movement in the scrubs to the West. She brought up the camera feed from that area and saw the three musketeers heading into the abandoned base up there.

Interesting. She had long since picked that base clean of anything useful. What could they be after? Was their information out of date or had she missed something?

She thought for a moment, then smirked, rolling her shoulders til she heard her back crack.

Worth checking it out, she decided, and gathers some supplies.

Now she finds herself tuned in to a broadcast that is sounding increasingly bleak. Veronica is trying desperately to draw zombies away from one of the doors so that three can escape after the other door shut down completely. It does not seem to be working, and all three are preparing to run straight out into a flaming hoard. Of course.

It’s just as Peter is offering to be torn to pieces to protect them that she decides it’s time to make her presence known. She does carefully wait for the moment of maximum drama.

“Hold your horses, traumatic trio,” she drawls, delighting at the gasped responses and what sounds like one of them falling over in shock.

The shocked replies tickle her as she bends down to place det-cord around the frame of the door. She gleefully chastises them before giving a warning to step back. She takes five long steps herself.

“Honestly, what would you all do without me?” she says, and hits the detonator.

The door spasms in its position as a long line of heat blasts around its edges. It shudders in place for a moment before falling backwards, slamming to the ground.

An ocean of smoke pours through the opening and up towards the ceiling. Following it, the room belches out three bedraggled runners, all clutching a hand to their face and coughing.

“Really now, I thought you knew better than to go into a fortified base without adequate explosives.”

“We… used them all,” says Peter between hacks. “More zombies than we thought.”

“Hence the massive fire,” Jodie sasses, turning to lead the way out of the building.

“Hm, yeeees,” agrees Amelia, taking in Five’s forlorn form as she slowly straightens, controlling her breathing. Five catches her looking and raises an eyebrow.

“Good plan that,” continues Amelia, not looking away. Five flips her the bird and stalks past, swaying her hips in a way that Amelia is sure cannot be intentional but is the most enticing thing she’s seen in weeks. Amelia dawdles so she can keep looking.

The four of them emerge into the sunlight and Amelia sees some of the tension drain from Five’s shoulders. Despite herself, she feels her smirk softening into an actual smile.

She feels a nudge at her shoulder, and finds that Peter is watching her.

“Good timing, that,” he says. “What brought you here in the nick of time?”

He is searching her face, and she realises he is trying to figure out if she was there for the same reason as them.

She looks at him innocently, which unfortunately for her has become a warning sign to him and anyone who has known her more than a few weeks.

“I was in the neighbourhood,” she says with a shrug. “My network told me you might be about to get yourself killed again.”

“Some network,” comments Peter.

“Fortune favours the prepared, dear man.”

Peter rolls his eyes. They come to an open space with enough trees that the exhausted runners can sit with their backs leaned against them for support. Amelia happily sprawls in the grass with her weight back on her elbows. She watches them as they recover, Peter letting his head drop back against the trunk as he breathes, Jodie fastidiously sorting out the remaining material in her pack, and Five discretely scanning the other two for injuries.

Amelia looks to Peter and Jodie to see if they have noticed. Neither seem to realise that they are being mother-henned without even being spoken to. She smiles to herself softly and looks back to Five, only to find her eyes scanning Amelia this time, carefully cataloguing any scratches and bruises she can see.

Five’s eyes snap up to hers the moment she realises she is being observed. Amelia raises an eyebrow and Five cocks an unimpressed chin at her in challenge. Amelia’s face splits into a predatory grin, which she at least partially puts on to hide the small bubble of warmth in her belly at being the subject of Five’s concern. She may flirt and fantasise, but she is not a simpleton. Five is far too straight-laced and good to reciprocate, and Amelia is not in the business of forcing the issue. Instead, she shoots her a wink and watches as Five rolls her eyes and drags herself to her feet.

“Home time?” says Peter with a groan.

“I need a forty-minute shower,” says Jodie, standing with legs that only shake for a moment before steadying.

“I trust you won’t mind if a join you part of the way,” announces Amelia. Jodie looks at her in disbelief, but Five just shakes her head with an unsurprised quirk of the lips.

“Why?” asks Peter suspiciously.

Amelia rolls her shoulders back and stretches like a cat.

“I just saved all your lives! Perhaps I just want to make sure you all make it home okay.”

“Sure,” says Jodie, rolling her eyes. “Whatever, just don’t be a pain.”

“How dare you suggest such a thing,” she says with glee.

The three start to walk in front of her, and as she watches she notices a piece of paper sticking out of Five’s back pocket. It had clearly been tucked in there hastily. Probably something from the base.

She nonchalantly quickens her pace until she is shoulder to shoulder with Five.

“You three do seem to have a talent for finding trouble.”

Five rolls her eyes but makes no sound of disagreement.

“Honestly, if you are running low on explosives I can set you up with a wonderful deal. All the det cord and napalm you can carry. Though you probably shouldn’t. Much. Napalm is a tricky beast.”

Five says nothing, though the babbling does seem to help her relax. The tension slowly starts to bleed out of her shoulders.

“In future, “ Amelia continues, “you really should contact me if you need to infiltrate any more bases. I have more intel than any other source on this side of the mountains, and I can tell you when you’re about to get baked to a crisp. Seriously, why would you go in without backup?”

Five is listening, and a part of her actually seems to be considering her words.

“Keep in mind in future. We’d all rather not lose the great Runner Five of Abel Township. Half of England would cry.”

Five scoffs at this. Amelia carefully adjusts her gate to slightly smaller slower steps. Not enough to indicate an injury. Not even enough to be particularly noticeable. Five, ever the gentlewoman, automatically adjusts her pace to match.

“I’m not kidding,” continues Amelia. “You would not believe how they wax poetic about you. It makes me think of Batman. You know, that whole thing about a symbol being more powerful than a person. You really should be careful what you risk.”

Amelia tosses her hair and sees that Five is staring at her, confused and a little curious. She smiles warmly back.

“It’s really rather sweet. All these people finding hope in an intrepid runner. But you do need to consider what is worth risking your life for. What on Earth could have been worth today’s fiasco?”

Five’s eyes have begun to narrow, and Amelia tosses her hair.

“Seriously,” she says lightly. “What was the point? If you tell me, I can help. Think of all those chil-“

Amelia chokes on her last word as Five drops her back, grabs her by the shoulder, and slams her against the trunk of a tree.

Amelia blinks in shock, staring back at Five’s intense eyes, at the sharp line formed between her brows as they draw together. Five’s breath is soft against her skin.

“Enough,” says Five, her voice low. Amelia lets out a tiny puff of air at the sound. Five hardly ever speaks. Almost never. It is a quirk that makes her harder to read than most. The result of trauma, or perhaps personal preference, whatever it is, it takes a lot for Five to break her silence.

And Amelia had made it happen.

“Oh sorry, dear. Did I overstep? I assure you it was never my intention to invade your boundaries.”

She shifts meaningfully against Five, whose frown begins to fade. She stares at Amelia’s face, and Amelia wonders what she sees. Are her cheeks pink? Are her pupils blown? For once, she has no idea what she looks like.

Five looks at her, softly but thoughtfully, and with one hand gently runs her fingers through Amelia’s hair, letting the strands curl around her digits. Amelia’s breath stammers, and Five looks her in the eyes.

“Go,” she says, and softly steps back. She picks up her bag, swings in up to her shoulder, and looks back to Amelia, still leant against the tree. “And thank you.”

Amelia nods back, pulling her composure back over herself, and Five turns on one heal, running to join her friends who had strayed quite far ahead.

Amelia places a hand over her heart feeling light and tight all at once. Perhaps Five was not so straight-laced as she had thought. Or straight, for that matter.

She waits another minute to make sure the runners are out of sight, before lifting her other hand to see the white paper clutched in it. Pickpocketing may be a touch crass but it did serve her well, and no one could say she was bad at multi-tasking.

She delicately unfolded the paper and inspected the contents. There were three words, hastily scrawled in what Amelia assumed must be Five’s weirdly loopy handwriting.

“Fuck off Amelia.”

Amelia let out a great huff of laughter and crumpled the paper in her hand. She let her head fall back against the wood and felt great, glorious giggles overtaking her.

That little…

She turned in the direction that the runners had gone and smiled in admiration and excitement for a new challenge.

Perhaps a little chaos might not be a bad thing.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #30

Dragon Age - #30 - Wound Reveal

*

“This is not exactly how I planned for things to go,” Hawke said, and just narrowly avoided the dagger thrown at him. “Well, that’s mine now and you can just eat my ass if you think you’re getting it back.”

“Charming as always,” Anders said.

Hawke pointed the dagger at him. “You’ll get your turn, don’t worry.”

“Can you not talk dirty when we’re about to be killed?” Varric said. “Maybe save it for later, Hawke.”

“Killed,” Hawke scoffed, casting a spell at an enemy charging them. “It’s a mild ambush. We’ve survived worse.”

“It still isn’t pleasant,” Aveline said. 

“Well, nothing in Kirkwall is pleasant,” Hawke said. “Aside from me. I’ve a charming personality.”

“Who told you that blatant lie?” Aveline said.

“I have a dagger, and I am not afraid to use it. Nor am I trained to use it,” Hawke warned. 

Their enemies seemed to be growing frustrated at how little of a threat they were perceived as. They’d ambushed the group as they traversed along the Wounded Coast, but now their apparent victims seemed to find the whole thing a mild inconvenience. 

“Run back to the city! Tell them apostates are attacking on the Wounded Coast!” one of the attackers said.

“Anders, did you hear that? Apostates are attacking on the Wounded Coast,” Hawke said in surprise.

“Well, we can’t have those filthy apostates running loose,” Anders said. “Just think of the danger.”

Aveline let out a long sigh. “Varric, care for a drink when this is over?”

“More than you can imagine,” Varric said, but he was grinning. He shot down one of the attackers attempting to sneak away. “No tattling on our apostates.” 

“Aw, you do care!” Hawke said. 

“What can I say, Chuckles? I’m fond of you,” Varric said. 

“Can you two focus so we can finish this up already? We do have an actual investigation to carry out here,” Aveline reminded. “That’s the whole reason we came to this place, yes?”

“Well, yea, but a little ambush never hurt anyone,” Hawke said. “Okay, well, actually, that’s a lie. Maker, remember that time we got ambushed and they broke my toe? That bloody hurt. Thought I’d have to amputate my whole foot.”

“That’s because you’re overdramatic,” Anders reminded. 

“Debatable,” Hawke said.

“It’s really not,” Varric said.

“Sorry, love,” Anders said. 

“Betrayed. I’ve been horrifically betrayed by everyone I loved and trusted,” Hawke said, glaring at them. 

“True, but you- HAWKE!” Anders lunged forward to try and push Hawke out of the way, but he was too slow.

One of the attackers had slowly crept up, using the rocks as cover. He’d shot out at Hawke, and now had him tackled to the ground, the two struggling with each other, Hawke crying out in surprise.

During the struggle, Anders saw the flash of a knife in the attacker’s hand. Anders didn’t dare cast a spell for fear of hitting Hawke as well, and instead raised his staff to strike the attacker.

Aveline was faster, running the man through with her sword. The body slumped on Hawke, who shoved it off hastily and rolled onto his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” Anders demanded.

“Fine,” Hawke managed. “Let’s finish this up and get that drink, eh?” 

Anders helped him up, and Hawke turned away to fire on their attackers. The group attacked with a renewed focus, showing their enemies just how deadly they could be when they took a fight seriously.

It was over quickly. Aveline checked the area to make sure they were all really dead, then nodded to the others.

“We’re clear,” she said. “Hawke, are you alright?”

“Fine,” he repeated.

“Let’s just go investigate and wrap this up,” Varric said. 

“They said the body was found a little further up the Coast,” Aveline said, and got walking.

“Hawke?” Anders said.

“I’m fine, Anders,” Hawke said, and gave him a weak smile. “Let’s go. I’ll watch our backs.”

Hawke drifted to the back of the group. Anders didn’t like how quiet he’d fallen, but he’d see what was up when they’d finished their investigation.

The four trekked along the Coast, alert for any other ambush attempts or enemies. They only encountered one more fight before they neared their objective.

But just before they reached the area, there was a thump behind them. Anders, Varric, and Aveline all spun with weapons ready, but paused.

“Hawke?” Anders said, hurrying over to him.

Hawke had collapsed to his knees, breathing shallowly and curled over his stomach. Sweat coated his forehead, making his hair stick to it.

Hawke grasped Ander’s hand and struggled to get to his feet. He winced, staggering. Anders had to hurry to steady him.

“Chuckles?” Varric said anxiously.

“I thought...it’d be fine til we finished,” Hawke ground out. “Guess not.”

He shifted his robe aside to reveal his bloodied and torn shirt. Anders tightened his hold on Hawke at the sight of the stab wound in his side.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Anders demanded, lowering Hawke to the ground.

“You all...c-called me...overdramatic,” Hawke said. 

“And now we’re all calling you stupid!” Anders tugged Hawke’s shirt up carefully. “I can stabilize you, but we need to get you back so I can clean and stitch that properly. Maker, Hawke, that’s deep. You absolute idiot of a man.”

“You still...l-love me,” Hawke said with a weak grin.

“Maker help me, I bloody do,” Anders said, concentrating on his healing magic. It wouldn’t be enough to fix Hawke’s wound, but he could hopefully keep the idiot from bleeding out on the spot. “Aveline, will you be able to carry him?”

“She bench presses me as a warmup,” Hawke said, closing his eyes.

“Don’t bother, I think he’s passing out,” Anders said as Aveline opened her mouth to yell at Hawke. “Oh, yep, he’s out. Idiot. Absolute headache of a man.”

“Will he be okay?” Varric asked.

“He’ll be fine once I can properly tend to him. I think I’ve stopped the bleeding for the most part.” Anders tore part of Hawke’s robe and carefully tied it around the wound. “That’s the best I can do here.” Anders sighed heavily. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it got infected. I can’t believe he was walking around with a deep stab wound like nothing happened.”

“I absolutely can believe he did that,” Aveline said, pulling Hawke up and getting him situated on her back. “But you know how he is. He might come off as obnoxious, but he never wants to worry us. He kept quiet so I could finish my investigation.”

“A pain in the ass, but a good guy,” Varric said

“Let’s get him back so I can stitch him up,” Anders said, lightly touching his hand to Hawke’s shoulder. Hawke was alarmingly pale. Anders was certain he could get him stable once they were back, but that relied entirely on them not running into any trouble on their way back.

Aveline’s face was determined as she began to march forward, though. “He’s survived worse. Let’s get him taken care of, and then I’m drinking until I forget how frustrating he is.”

Anders looked at the blood on the ground before following them. It was little moments like these that worried him the most.

Because he knew there was a chance that a day would come when Hawke sacrificed himself permanently for the sake of his friends. It was a day Anders prayed never came. 

But looking at Hawke’s unconscious form, bloodied and helpless, Anders knew it was becoming a matter of “when” not “if”.

[moldisgoodforyou]

how lucky am I

gif by @toesure​ 

summary: jj and charlie return home to the outer banks after their engagement. jj shows charlie around where he grew up - and sees his dad again after six years. 

a/n: this is set in a post-grad universe (read this for background)! and thank you always to my friends @oopmyheartwent-obx​ and @sunnypogue​ for reading it over for me beforehand!! 

warnings: cursing, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse.

wordcount: 4.7k

Charlie and JJ took an Uber from the airport as they flew home for the first time since they were engaged, about six months since when they had come home for Christmas. They entered her parents’ house, leaving their suitcases at the door. Charlie took JJ’s cap from him first, fluffing up his hair and giving him a quick kiss before bringing him into the kitchen. Both her parents were busy in the kitchen with their backs to them, music drifting over the radio. “Hey guys!” Charlie greeted cheerfully. 

Her mom reacted first, whipping around at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “JJ! Charlie!” She hugged JJ first, catching him off guard, but he smiled and hugged her back after a beat. “Hi, Mrs. Walker. Whatever you’re making smells incredible.” Charlie had to resist rolling her eyes as her mom pulled back with her hand to her heart. “I told you, JJ, call me Suzie. We’re family now!” JJ nodded, grinning. “Yes ma’am.” 

JJ then extended his arm toward her dad for a handshake, like usual between the two - but her dad pulled him in for a hug, clapping him on the back. “Good to see you, son. Your flight go okay?” JJ beamed at the approval, nodding. “Yes, sir - uh, Mr. Walker.” He corrected himself. Charlie’s dad shook his head and dropped JJ’s hand. “Mike is fine, JJ. You hungry?” He pulled Charlie into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Dad, can we put our bags up in my room first?” Mike pulled back, giving her a look. “JJ’s bag goes in the guest room.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Dad, we’re literally engaged -”

Her dad shook his head. “Guest room. Go put them away.” She sighed but nodded, pulling JJ upstairs. They could hear her mom berating her dad for not being nice enough as they walked upstairs and Charlie laughed. “The second they go to bed, you’re coming into my room.” JJ shook his head, but stayed quiet as he lugged their suitcases upstairs and into her room. “You good, J?” She asked, kissing his cheek. JJ nodded, a small smile on his face. “He called me son. Your dad.” Charlie softened, not knowing how much that would mean to him. “You’ve been a part of the family for a while now, baby. Now it’s just official.” 

The next morning, the two took advantage of being back in the Outer Banks, visiting all their favorite spots from growing up. They woke up early to surf for a couple hours with the sunrise, then got breakfast with John B and Sarah afterward. Charlie and JJ then drove by the coast for a while, aimlessly. “Can we go by one more place?” JJ asked after a while. “Of course, what are you thinking?” JJ gave her a small, hopeful smile. “You’ll see.” 

_ 

He drummed his fingers on the wheel as they drove closer to the Cut, toward his old house. “We don’t have to go here if you don’t want to, JJ -” Charlie started, but JJ shook his head, cutting her off. “No, no, I want to check it out.” He gave her an uneasy smile, forcing it. Charlie nodded, squeezing his arm gently but stayed quiet. She had heard most of the stories before and had pretty much made up her mind about JJ’s dad - no in-person meeting could change that. 

He pulled up onto the gravel, taking a breath before turning the key and getting out. Charlie started toward the house, but JJ quickly grabbed her hand, pulling her back. “Can - can you just wait out here first, just for a second?” She nodded, biting her lip out of worry. “Of course. I’ll be right here.” JJ seemed to relax slightly and released her hand, then flipped his cap backward before heading inside. 

“Dad?” He called out, tense. He walked through the house tentatively, listening, then relaxed more once he realized his dad wasn’t home. He surveyed the mess and shoved some trash (and a small white bag) into a drawer before heading back outside. “Charlie, c’mere.” 

Charlie was hesitant, taking his hand again once she reached the porch. “He’s not here, but, uh, you can see my room, at least.” JJ offered. He was clearly embarrassed by the house and Charlie tried to conceal her surprise at the state of disarray, holding his hand a little tighter. JJ led her to his room and pushed open the door - then smiled. 

His room had been untouched since he had moved out and into the Chateau with John B on his 18th birthday. It looked exactly like how an 18-year-old boy’s room would look - rumpled sheets, a few lewd posters on the walls, a spare history textbook used to prop up the uneven leg of the desk. Charlie rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t look too different from your freshman year dorm, I’d imagine.” JJ laughed, splaying his hand over one of the posters. “Pretty much.” 

She took a tentative seat on the bed. “It’s not as bad as you were describing it to me. It’s...homey.” JJ scoffed, looking around. “No, homey is how I feel at your place. This is just fucking sad.” Charlie frowned, reaching out for him, and JJ waved her off. “I’m fine, just. Feels weird being back.” 

Suddenly, there was a bang out front and the sound of splintering wood, like the door was just kicked in. Charlie jumped up from the bed, clinging to JJ. “What the -” JJ clapped his hand over her mouth and put a finger to his lips, shushing her. 

A gruff voice rang out. “I have a gun! Better get the fuck out!” 

Upon hearing the voice, JJ relaxed a bit and moved to walk out. Charlie gripped JJ’s bicep tighter, eyes wide and scared. “What the fuck are you doing!” She hissed, yanking him back. JJ shook her off, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “It’s fine, Charlie, it’s just my dad. And he’s a fuckin’ liar.” They could hear footsteps coming closer and Charlie’s heart rate quickened, tears welling in her eyes. “It might not be - JJ, please, we should hide.” She begged, stepping away from the door. 

JJ walked out of his room, hands up. “Just me, Dad!” He called out. Once Luke Maybank saw him, he stopped dead in his tracks - no gun in hand, just as JJ expected. “Oh. JJ? Why the fuck are you here?” JJ let out a sad, short laugh. “Good to see you too, Dad.” Charlie peered out from around the corner, tentative, and Luke immediately spotted her, pointing. “You’re 25 and you’re still sneaking girls into the house?” 

At JJ’s beckon forward, Charlie stepped out, standing slightly behind JJ. “He’s 24, actually,” she corrected before she could stop herself. “She’s got a smart mouth like you.” Luke pointed out, smirking. JJ grit his teeth. “Dad, this is Charlie. My girlfriend I told you about - well, actually, my fiancee.” He was still getting used to saying the word. Charlie took JJ’s hand, then took a small step forward. “Hi.” 

Luke eyed the ring on her finger right away, skeptical. “Where’d you get the money for that rock?” 

“It’s my grandmother’s.” Charlie responded before JJ could even open his mouth.

“Hm.” Luke hummed, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. Charlie stayed tense but JJ did the same, pulling out a chair for Charlie first. She hesitated, but he tugged on his hand gently to show her it was okay. “Where did you meet again?” Luke asked, feigning interest - though his eyes kept flicking back to check out Charlie’s ring. He kicked back in his chair, swinging his feet up onto the table. JJ ran his hand through his hair. “Well...in college. We’ve been dating since senior year, remember?” 

“But I grew up here, we knew each other from high school before that.” Charlie added. Luke raised his eyebrows. “Oh? What’s your last name?” JJ squeezed her knee gently underneath the table. “It’s Walker, Dad.” Luke nodded in recognition, then laughed. “That touristy ice cream shop? Marrying into money, then.” He directed his gaze to Charlie, cracking a smile. “How’d he trick you into bothering with him?” 

Charlie frowned, keeping her tone even. “He didn’t trick me into anything.” 

Luke looked smug. “I’ve known him longer than you, kid, I know how he works.” 

“You should be proud of JJ. He’s intelligent, and kind, and loyal as hell.” She paused, lifting her chin a little. “No thanks to you.” JJ set his jaw and nudged her knee under the table, a private sign to knock it off. 

Luke leaned forward, both hands on the table. “Better watch your pretty little mouth in my house, girl.”  

“Don’t talk to her like that.” JJ quickly admonished, tensing. 

“Am I invited?” Luke asked, a small smirk on his lips. JJ paused, trying to process. “To...to the wedding?” He glanced at Charlie, a mix of emotions displayed on his face. Charlie kept her hard resolve. “We only got engaged two weeks ago, we haven’t worked on a guest list.” She stood, trying to make it clear the conversation was over, and JJ followed suit reluctantly. 

“You’re making a mistake sticking yourself with this lazy piece of shit.” Luke told her, gesturing toward JJ. 

Charlie took a quick step toward Luke, ready to retort, and JJ wrapped his arms around her waist just as quickly, pulling her back toward his chest. “Don’t.” He murmured in her ear. She stayed tense in his arms. 

Luke just laughed. “She’s feisty, huh?” 

JJ kept his arms around Charlie, protective. “She’s loyal.” 

Luke nodded, folding his hands behind his head.  “How long are you around? Back home?” JJ fidgeted with the bill of his cap. “Just ‘til Monday. I gotta get back for work.” Luke made a small noise of acknowledgment and stood, pulling a beer from the fridge. “Well. You ought to come ‘round again before you leave, sounds like we need to catch up.” JJ managed a small smile, confused, but nodded anyway. “Yeah, if we have time.” 

Charlie stepped out of his arms toward the door. “Well, uh, we have to go, but. I’ll see you around.” Luke popped the bottle cap off the beer and took a swig. “No one’s blocking you. Door’s open, kid.” 

The tips of JJ’s ears turned red and he nodded, silently following Charlie through the door and out to the car. “JJ, I -” Charlie started, and he shook his head. “Let’s just go.” The two of them got in the car and he gripped the wheel hard as he drove away, jaw clenched. He flicked through the radio until he found a classic rock station and cranked the volume, foot pressing harder on the gas. 

“I’m just gonna drive.” He told Charlie, eyes set firmly on the long road. She nodded, quiet, but was analyzing his every move, noticing the way his shoulders were tensed up to his ears and his knuckles were white against the steering wheel. 

A few minutes later, it was like JJ had a lead foot against the pedal and the car climbed five, ten, fifteen miles over the speed limit. He stared out at the road but was unfocused, radio static in his ears. “J.” Charlie tried again, for the fourth time. She reached out, shaking his arm. “JJ!” He swerved slightly and glanced over at her, blinking, then finally registered her worried expression and slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road. 

Charlie reached over and pushed the car into park as his foot stayed on the brake, then unbuckled and quickly got out. She opened the driver’s side door and reached over, unbuckling JJ’s seatbelt. “Out. I’ll drive.” He nodded numbly and stood, turning into her touch. Charlie looked worried and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, but nothing more. 

“Get in and we’ll go home, hon.” He nodded again and did so, wordless. She started the car again, reaching to turn down the radio, but JJ reached for her hand, stopping her. She twisted her wrist to intertwine her fingers with his, resting their hands on the center console and holding his hand tight. 

They stayed quiet as she drove toward her house - but after a glance toward JJ and seeing how hard he was blinking, Charlie turned away from the neighborhood and toward the beach. “You missed the turn.” JJ mumbled, holding tight to her hand. She nodded. “I know. I want to see the beach.” JJ sighed as she pulled toward a secluded lookout spot. “Charlie, I’m fine.” 

Charlie shrugged, putting the car in park and turning the key. “I know. Come on, let’s go sit.” She got out and tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the beach and sitting down with him. After a beat, she scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. JJ leaned down into her, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine.” He repeated, shakily. He swiped the back of his hand across his cheek roughly, not allowing any tears to fall. She tightened her grip on him, letting him rest his head on her chest. 

“It’s okay if you’re not, J.” She whispered, stroking his head. He mumbled something into her t-shirt, still for a moment, then slid his arms around her waist, clinging tight. Charlie frowned and pressed a kiss to his head. “Hm, hon?” 

JJ lifted his head slightly. “You scared me.” 

Charlie let out a short laugh, incredulous. “I scared you? He threatened a gun on you!” 

JJ sat up a little but kept an arm around her waist, looking serious. “You can’t talk to him like that, Charlie. He’s unpredictable. He - he could have hurt you.” 

Charlie frowned. “I can handle myself.” 

JJ furrowed his brow, frustrated. “No, Charlie, I’m serious. You can’t talk to him like that - if he did something to you, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

“His words aren’t gonna hurt me.” She replied, stubborn. “If you go back, I’m going with you.” JJ sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get anything through to her in the moment. “Yeah. We’ll see.” Charlie set her jaw, lifting it toward him. “I’m not letting you go back alone, JJ. I don’t trust him.” 

JJ gripped her chin gently, kissing her softly. “You’re too fucking stubborn.” She pulled out of his touch, frowning. “I just want you to be safe.” JJ nodded. “I know.” He glanced down at her phone as it chimed. “We gotta get back for your family thing soon, sweetheart.” 

Still annoyed, Charlie stood, crossing her arms. “I’m mad at you, you know.” JJ held back a small laugh as he stood, nodding seriously. “I know. Think you can fake being in love for the engagement party?” He teased. Charlie rolled her eyes and tossed him the keys. “I still love you. I’m just mad.” JJ smiled and got in the car with her, kissing her cheek. “Good. Love you too, Walker.” 

_

After the majority of her family left, Charlie dragged JJ upstairs by the hand to her room. She instantly flopped back onto the bed, kicking off her heels. “We survived!” She teased, tugged on his hand to pull him down next to her. “Do you think they liked me?” JJ asked, taking a tentative seat on the edge of the bed next to her. 

At that moment her dad Mike walked past, pushing the door open. “They’ll like you better if you keep the door open, son.” Charlie rolled her eyes, turning her head to glance at him. “Dad. Might I remind you we’re 24? And engaged?” Mike just laughed. “And you’re under my roof, and JJ’s staying in the guest room tonight. Again.” JJ nodded quickly, running his hand through his hair. “Yes, sir.” Mike grinned, walking away. “Night, you two!” He called over his shoulder. 

“Good night!” Charlie called back, then sat up to shut the door. JJ pushed her back down, grinning. “Did you not hear his rules?” Charlie smirked, lowering her voice. “I didn’t know you were into the idea of getting caught.” JJ laughed and stood, hands raised in surrender. “That’s it, I’m going to the guest room.” 

“No, stay!” Charlie reached out, hooking her finger in his belt loop, and tugged. “You’re trouble, Walker.” He teased, but fell forward onto her anyway. She grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. “Yeah, yeah, but you love trouble. Anyway, I think - no, I know that they loved you. They’ve all met you before, too, so it’s not like you had to make a grand first impression.” 

He shifted to be on his side, facing her, and propped his head up on his elbow. “Yeah, but this was an extra big deal. First impression as your fiance.” Charlie nodded and kissed him, sound. “You did just fine, hon. I think my grandma would marry you herself if she was younger.” He laughed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “She was not happy about the last name deal. Mrs. Maybank.” He teased. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “It’s a totally antiquated belief, and I’m working -” 

“Incredibly hard for your degrees, including your PhD, I know, I know.” JJ cut her off, finishing the speech he had heard quite a few times. “Just teasing you, Char.” She smiled, pleased. “Good.” JJ paused, like he was going to say something, then just sighed. Charlie frowned, picking up on it right away. “What’s up?” 

He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up. “Um. I think I want to go see my dad again before we leave.” 

“JJ…” Charlie sighed. “Why?” 

He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Dunno. I’ve barely talked to him in six years.” 

Charlie bit her lip. “There’s a reason for that, J, he’s an asshole.” 

JJ started, then paused. “Well - I mean, yeah, but did you hear him when we left? He wants to come to the wedding? Maybe he’s trying to be better.” 

Charlie frowned. “He’s had six years to try. I don’t know about this.” JJ set his jaw, frustrated. “Well I’m not asking, I’m telling you out of courtesy. And you’re not coming.” She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not going alone.” 

He sat up, crossing his arms. “Yes I am.” 

She did the same. “No, you’re not. I’ll drive you and sit in the car.” 

He swung his legs off the edge of the bed, standing. “Fine.” 

“Fine. Where are you going?” She questioned. 

“I’m going to the guest room.” JJ replied, raising his eyebrows back at her. She rolled her eyes. “J, you don’t have to -” He waved it off, dismissing her. “It’s not because of this, it’s out of respect for your dad.”

Charlie softened, unable to argue with that. “Oh. Okay. Well...goodnight.” JJ offered a small smile and bent down, giving her a short kiss. “Goodnight. Love you, Charlie.” She smiled back, giving in. “Love you too, J.” He gave her a teasing salute as he walked out of the room.

_ 

The next day, they went back to JJ’s house around 6pm. Charlie drove, turning up the radio and humming along softly to their favorite songs, trying to ease JJ’s tension. As they pulled up on the drive, Charlie frowned seeing some broken glass bottles scattered around the yard. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in?” JJ nodded firmly. “Stay here. Please. He won’t do anything.” Charlie bit her lip, nodding back. “Don’t be too long.” He gave a small, tense smile and a short kiss. “I’ll be okay, sweetheart.” 

With that he got out, adjusting his hat as he walked up to the porch. The scene was all too familiar - empty beer cans scattered across the table, a medicine bottle with some pills strewn out on the glass. JJ nudged open the door and sighed when he saw Luke passed out on the couch, hand curled around an empty glass bottle that was cradled to his chest. 

“God damnit, Dad.” He said aloud, kicking one of the beer cans across the floor. Luke stirred, stretching as he woke up. JJ cursed under his breath, not sure if he wanted him to wake or not. Luke cracked one eye open, shooting at glare at his son. “The fuck are you back here for?” 

JJ flipped his hat backward, running his hand through his hair as he went. “You asked me to come back.” Luke scoffed. “Don’t know why I would have done that.” He leaned over, popping a cap off another beer and took a swig. “Your girl didn’t want to come back?” JJ shook his head, willing himself to not glance at her car outside. “I didn’t want her to have to see this piece of shit place again.” Luke sat up, gesturing at him with the beer bottle. “You should be grateful for this piece of shit, I raised you in it.” 

JJ crossed his arms, jaw set. “Saying you raised me is an overstatement.” 

“You gonna use some of that Walker family money to pay me back, then?” Luke stared him down from the couch. JJ scoffed. “Stolen bread and peanut butter from the store didn’t cost you shit, Dad.” 

Luke stood, swaying a little, and met him at eye level as he took another long drink. “You think the fucking utilities were free, boy? The running water? The A/C?” JJ stood his ground, his fists curling. “We had that maybe half the year, and a fucking box fan in the middle of the summer doesn’t do shit.” 

Luke shook his head. “Still cost money. You’re lucky I even gave you a place to stay.” He knocked back the rest of the beer and twirled the bottle in his hand. “Not sure how you even convinced that girl to stick around for long.” He grinned. “Just watch, she’ll leave too. They always do.” JJ swallowed, white-knuckled, but kept his fists by his side. “Fuck off, Dad, she loves me.” 

The corner of Luke’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Just like your mother loved you and then left in the middle of the night, first chance she got?” 

JJ took a deep breath to steady himself. If he was younger, his fist would have slammed into his dad’s cheek three insults ago - but he reminded himself he was better than that, too old to resort to injury. “She left because of you. We both know that.” 

Luke shook his head. “We got the same blood, boy. What runs in me runs in you.” 

“I’ll be a better husband and father than you ever were.” JJ shot back, chest puffed up and shoulders tall. 

Luke smirked. “That’s what I told my dad too, kid. Now look. Full fuckin’ circle.” 

JJ huffed in frustration, flipping his cap forward again and tugging down hard on the bill. “Fuck you.” 

Charlie had been sitting in the car long enough, anxious, and got out of the car, against her better judgment. Quietly, she walked up to the house, frowning as she heard unrecognizable yelling - from Luke or JJ, she wasn’t sure. Inside, JJ and Luke kept going, flinging insults at each other, the tension rising as they got in each other’s face. Charlie pushed open the screen door, staying quiet - but the hinges creaked at just the wrong moment. 

Luke hurled the glass bottle at the wall just behind Charlie’s head, making it shatter everywhere. She screamed, cowering, and JJ fisted the front of Luke’s shirt in his hand instantly. “What the fuck, Dad, she did nothing!” He roared, shoving him backward hard enough to land him on the floor. 

He ran over to Charlie, who had a small trickle of blood trailing down her cheek from a shard of broken glass. “Fuck, Charlie, are you okay?” She nodded quickly in response, eyes wide, a little stunned. JJ scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the house hurriedly, not taking a second look back. He set her in the passenger seat, then looked around worriedly. “Keys, Charlie, I need the keys.” She bit down on her lip, hard, gesturing toward the porch. “Keys, Charlie.” He repeated, looking her over with concern. 

“Dropped them. On the porch.” She got out, gingerly touching her fingers to her cheek. JJ cursed under his breath, nodding, and shut the door quickly. He jogged back up to the porch, glancing inside for a split second to see his dad still lying there on the floor. He hesitated just long enough to see his dad stir, no blood in sight, and grabbed the keys and ran back to the car. 

His hands were shaking as he jammed the keys in the ignition, starting it up and driving away quickly. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. God - did he hurt you? Did it hit you?” He asked rapidly, glancing over at her. Charlie shook her head, pressing the heel of her hand to her cheek. “No. Um, just a small nick.” She paused before speaking again, her voice shaky. “I’m sorry, J.” 

“What?! No, no, why are you sorry?” He reached over and took her free hand, pressing the back to his lips. 

“You said not to come in, and I got scared, I thought he was hurting you.” She frowned, her voice small. “I can’t believe he talked to you like that.”  

JJ sighed, softly. “That was hardly anything, honestly.” He bit the inside of his cheek as he drove back to her parent’s house, trying to focus more on her than the thoughts running through his head. Charlie blinked hard, trying not to let any tears fall. “That was harsh, J.” He gave her a sad smile. “Been through worse, sweetheart.” He pulled into her driveway, thankful her parents were out for the night.  

They made it up the stairs and into her room, quiet, both not wanting to be the first to speak. “You’re sure the bottle didn’t hit your head?” JJ asked as he sat next to her on the bed, gently running his thumb over the small nick across her cheek. Charlie had her knees drawn up to her chest, closed off. “I’m sure.” He nodded, but kept a worried frown. 

“I’m proud of you, J.” She murmured, taking his hand. He raised his eyebrows, confused. “For what?” She gave him a small smile, for the first time since leaving the house. “You stood up for yourself.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the comforter. “Yeah, well. Thanks.” 

Charlie frowned and moved closer, pulling him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to see him again, JJ.” 

“I just -” JJ’s face crumpled and his voice cracked. “I don’t know why he’s not proud of me.” Charlie held him tighter. “JJ…” He pulled her into his lap to hold her closer, then buried his face against her shoulder. “I graduated high school, and college, and I got out of the Outer Banks on my own, I…” he faltered, letting out a single sob. “I don’t know what else he wants from me, Charlie. Am I not good enough?” 

“Oh, hon.” Charlie murmured. She nudged his chin up so he could meet her gaze. “You’re more than good enough, J. You’ve done all those things, but more importantly, you’re the best damn person I could ask for.” JJ pressed his forehead to hers, listening. “But I’m a mess.” 

She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re responsible with your job, and hard-working and creative. You notice all the little things and you’re kind to just about everyone you meet.” He ducked his head away in embarrassment, not used to the praise. “Charlie.” 

She continued, giving him a smile. “I can’t wait to be married to you and show you off even more, JJ. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He lifted his head and kissed her, hard. “I love you.” 

“And how lucky am I to experience your love?” Charlie told him, nudging her nose against his. She caught his lips in a gentle kiss, threading her fingers through his hair. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry.” JJ told her with a small laugh, tears welling up in his eyes again. Charlie kissed him again. “Love you always, J, don’t forget it.” He nodded, kissing her back. “Love you always.” 

[kill-for-cookies]

Missing you, finding you (pt. 2)

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: after a hard day at work, you come home and see that things aren’t in their proper places...

Words: 1929

Note: @263adder you wanted kidnapped reader? Okay, here we go. 

This is part 2 of this. And guys, I need to know: do you want the story to continue? ‘Cause I do. And hope you too.

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

You were walking down the street. Your hands clenched and your name was heard behind you. You didn't care. You were too upset to continue arguing. How could he do this? Go to hell. You didn't want to see the Master again. Although an hour ago, you would never have thought this would happen.

*one hour and 3 minutes ago*

It was a long and tedious day at work. Saturday was coming and you could rest. You stood at the front door and inserted the key. The lock wobbled a little. Weird. It didn't happen in the morning. Or maybe it did. You didn't get much sleep and your lock often broke, though.

When you entered, you took off your heels and dropped your bag on the floor. True bliss. You put your keys on the drawer in the hall. You glanced at the drawer. Things were out of place. So, something was wrong. You never moved them and they were in a certain order.

You were about to turn around and leave, but you were roughly grabbed from behind and held above the floor. You swung your legs and kicked your elbow to get free. While you were struggling, you knocked a couple of things off the drawer. But to your surprise, you managed to get out from the grip.

You immediately turned to your kidnapper, quickly stepping back and not taking your eyes off him. Of course, you didn't have a weapon in your house, but you made your way to the kitchen, to the knife, knocking over a couple of chairs.

Finally, your hand found the rack of knives and grabbed the largest one. But unfortunately, before you could lift it above your head, a rag was held up to your face. The room immediately blurred and spun. Everything went dark in your eyes.

The knife slipped out of your hand. Before you passed out, you had the idea. You should have seen how many kidnappers there were. Apparently, you didn't because of the horror.

*

The Master ran around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers. He was supposed to pick you up today. To put it mildly, he was looking forward to it. Waited so long. He couldn't stand to be away from you for just a week. It always made you smile and laugh. And he loved it.

“Miss…” Master ran out of the TARDIS. He didn't finish his sentence when he saw the mess. His hands, raised and spread, slowly lowered.

Chairs were knocked over and the knife was on the floor, as were a couple of things from the drawer. Obvious signs of a struggle.

There was something on the table. The Master came up to it, wading through the chairs. It was a communicator. It turned on and you appeared on the screen, blindfolded and tied up. The Master's worst nightmare came true. You were kidnapped. You traveled with him and you suffered for it.

Your masked kidnapper came up behind you. Clever. The Master didn't know his face, but in any case, he didn't have long to live.

“You're going to do everything we say.”

“Why?” it wasn't clear whether it was a recording or a live broadcast, but doubts immediately disappeared when you sharply raised your head. You heard him.

“I'm fine. Please don't come here, I'll be fi…” your voice was hoarse and desperate.

You didn't finish your sentence when you hissed in pain. You were roughly grabbed by the hair and pulled. It was difficult to say who was hurting more. You or the Master, seeing this.

“Or we'll kill her” your kidnapper continued, as if you hadn't said anything.

“Oh, there are several of you. That explains why you managed to grab her. If you were alone, you wouldn't be able to handle it. Believe me, I've tested it on myself.”

You couldn't help but smile at the Master's comment. There were good times. When you first met him, you hit him hard when he tried to kidnap you. Of course, the Master did it anyway (the TCE was very convincing), but the bruises didn't go away for a couple of weeks.

Your eyes were blindfolded, but you could have sworn the Master's hands clenched, jaw closed and he was shaking with anger. And you weren't wrong. It was true.

“What do you want?”

“Your TARDIS and knowledge of time travel.”

You knew their plan. Overheard while you were pretending to be unconscious. That was why you tried to talk the Master out of it earlier. Unfortunately, you were no longer given the opportunity to say anything. A rough hand closed your mouth.

You tried to bite it, but this didn't work. This was useless, but this didn't stop you. You couldn't let the TARDIS fall into the wrong hands. Well, not to say the Master's hands were good, but at least, they were better than those of your kidnappers.

“Fine” you could hear the Master sighed. A loud scream of protest escaped from your throat. So loud that hand could hold it down. “But if one hair on her head get harmed...”

“Great. Meet in an hour on the planet Canvaal, Diamond Coast” your kidnapper didn’t allow the Master to finish the sentence. It usually ended badly.

As soon as the screen went black, the Master threw the communicator against the wall. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to lose you or the TARDIS. But he had no choice. Damn, the Master wanted you to be here and tell him there was always a way out. He laughed at your naive and childish optimism. But now he missed it so much.

Suddenly, he realised what he had seen. The Master was so preoccupied with the terms of the deal that he didn’t pay attention to it. Before the communicator switched off, your finger hit four times, clearly trying to attract his attention. But why? Apparently, you had a plan. But which one?

And how could he find you… The Master sharply took off and ran to your bag. It wasn't there. Then he started searching all over the apartment. The same thing. The Master remembered you always kept it with you. Oh, you were so damn smart. He loved it in you. He wouldn't lose you or the TARDIS today. Just needed to track your phone.

*

You were hoping the Master noticed your message. The ropes bit hard into your hands. You tried to get out by moving a little. Your wrists rubbed til they bled. It wouldn't heal soon.

You heard your kidnappers began to pack things. No! He couldn't. The Master should have noticed four strikes. Always so attentive. You often damned him for it, but now you hoped he was.

You began to think the kidnappers would actually have the TARDIS when you heard lovely sound. It never seemed so lovely as it was now. The TARDIS. Yes! Your plan worked. You wanted to kiss the Master for that.

You heard retreating footsteps and recognized them as the Master's. So you were in the TARDIS. And silence. He didn't even tell you anything. A little offensive. But it didn't last long. There were screams, cries and pleas for mercy. Not to say you thought it was right, but you were happy. Served them right. Of course, you tried to be right, but that didn't mean you were.

After about seven minutes (maybe more), your hands were free from the ropes and your eyes saw the light, which caused them to close. You were confused this happened only after a considerable amount of time, although the screams ended a long time ago. There was a growing anxiety in your chest. What was he doing all this time?

Now the Master was leaning toward the console, his hands spread wide and gripping the console tightly. He was obviously in a bad mood. When he was ;ike that, it was undesirable to disturb him. Even you. But you should know.

“Why didn't you release me right away?” the Master's face showed he knew what you were leading up to and that was why he became even angrier.

“Kill the kidnappers. Do you mind?”

“Please note, you said it, not me. But that's not what I was talking about. I heard screams. They stopped and only five minutes later you released me. What did you do?” the Master was hiding from you behind the console, so you went around it to see his face.

“Nothing” he disappeared again. This was getting annoying. You went around the console again.

“You're hiding something from me. Tell me” there was a note of authority in your voice.

“I don't know what you're talking about…”

“Enough!” you came close to him, tired of this game. “I'm gonna ask you nice again. What did you do?” it was like you were poking a caged animal with a stick and you clearly made it angry.

“You want to know? Fine! Open the doors and look!”

You'd be lying if you said you weren't afraid of the Master at that moment. You had never seen him so intimidating. At least, not to you. Never yelled at you so fiercely. Yes, there were a couple of times, when you first met him, but it was so long time ago that you forgot it.

You went to the door and opened it. What you saw made your heart prick and your breath catch. In front of you, instead of the planet you were on, there was only void and flying stones. You knew it wasn't there before. The Master blew up the planet.

“I couldn't let them live after they took you from me” now he was standing next to you in the doorway. The Master seemed darker than usual in every sense of the word.

“Who are they? Families who lived on this planet? I understand why you killed my kidnappers and don't blame you for it. But why blow up an entire planet?! There were innocents!” you leaned toward him, closing the distance between you two and such way attacking him.

“Don't you understand? The planet doesn't deserve to continue to exist, because your kidnappers were born on it!” now you were pinned against the unopened door of his TARDIS. It hurt your back. But hurt you the most to see someone you love like that.

“Take me home” somehow you were able to move away from the Master and didn't want to look at him anymore.

“What?” you could hear his eyes widened.

“I won't say it again. Just do it” your voice was quiet but firm.

You heard the Master snorted and walked past you. He pressed buttons and pulled levers. You didn't even look at him. Otherwise, there would be nothing left of him. You would have burned the Master with your eyes. The TARDIS buzzed with displeasure. She didn't like it. She clearly loved you and didn't want you to leave. Of course the TARDIS knew. It was hard to hide anything from her.

“We arrived” you felt his gaze devoured you.

Without a word, you went to the door, hand almost touching the door handle, when the Master's agitated voice stopped you.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Oh, you don't know?” you turned and raised ironically an eyebrow. “Then what I'm going to do will be the right decision.”

With these words, you sharply opened the door and stepped out of the TARDIS, leaving the Time Lord behind and ignoring his requests to return.

[spokenleaf-a]

SUMMER OF 1967 —  BLUES NIGHT AT LARRY’S ON THE SUNSET STRIP the stage was hot with anticipation, artificial light, and all the previous bodies and their warm ghosts. for one night and one night only you could breathe in the air the poet expelled without being barred off by broad-bodied security. this would be the last of the band’s small-venue shows for a long, long time and you had to be there for it. it was blues night and peridot were situated right in the middle of the bill following another los angeles-based band that too was on the come up called ‘the riders’ but not even half the crowd were for them. peridot were back—larry’s house band for a greater portion of the year ‘66—and they were receiving a welcome most warm: rows and rows of people, the doors held open by eager hands and heads piled on top of one another to snag a glimpse of the show from the streets. man, what a turn out. between sets, other well-known blues tunes bled through the loudspeaker and lulled the chatter to a static hum. if you weren’t already smoking your own cigarette you were caught on the wave of inhaling nicotine by contact and contradictingly both on edge and completely relaxed. smoke coasted along the floor in soft, superfluous clouds. you could barely see the bands through the thick of it. in the middle of the stage stood the mic stand like a lone, holy ornament and young women, hoping to get as close to the band as possible, moulded themselves to the stage’s perimeter and whispered amongst themselves, wondering whether they could see silhouettes moving in the shadows of the stage’s sidelines or not, and then the band came out one by one.

after a sharp wolf whistle and the crescendo of a growing, roaring applause, every pair of eyes in the building locked on the stage and stuck there as if glued. some folks jumped up and down.

the guitarist came out first and he ducked his head in meek acknowledgement of the crowd and the likely familiar faces, simultaneously lifting his guitar strap over his neck and fixing his fingers to the fretboard where he’d pluck a few strings and toe the pedals to get the right kind of bluesy sound. the drummer came out next, as stoic as ever, wielding his drum sticks and taking his drum-seat behind his drum set. richard, their organ player and mastermind behind the whole situation, dressed the part, dignifiedly and wearing a face that looked more than happy to be there in the midst of his divine creation. closely after him followed their good friend chuck serving as their bass player for the night and very glad for it, and so began their liquid, slow and syrupy ode to muddy waters and his 1956 hit ‘rock me’. the band rolled into its sound as if searching for its rhythm, encouraging it out of their fingers and pushing out what was once dormant, breathing into it new life and keeping it alive.

with the impending revelation of the band’s final member, their vocalist as of ‘65 who unraveled in a way no one saw coming but richard—from a poor, orphan kid writing scripts for theatres to a singing, siren-like and worshipped dionysus—the crowd grew restless and the band coordinately bought him time. he relished that pregnant swell of anticipation and they knew it. it got him high. when he emerged at last, from the dark and mysterious realm of stage left in his blue-jean jacket, matching blue jeans and cowboy boots, a look he wore on the cover of their first album which now seemed a symbol of his character, the whistling and cheers grew in intensity. “i love you leaf!” shouted someone who loved him. the bartender ceased his tending. mouths were wet with drool. in the way he lit a cigarette, smoked it and lazily assessed the crowd in his slow, easy meander from one end of the stage to the next it was clear that we were in his world now and lucky enough to be living in it. behind him ensued a musical dialogue between joe’s guitar and richard’s keys in a harmonious give and take, open for their singer’s added two cents while he took his time, whether he was drunk, sober or just intoxicated enough to not care about what anyone thought. after a long, preparational drag that shoved black into his lungs, he ashed the cigarette out in front of the drum kit, approached the microphone and stepped into the song languidly and with no tension save for the soul coursing hot throughout his innards and crawling up his throat for its great escape. his voice came out smooth yet gravely as if forced out of his chest. it was whiskey in auditory form.

want you to rock me baby,

rock me alllllllllll night long... want you to rock me pretty mama, rock me alllllllllll night long...yeah want you to rock me little darlin’, ‘til iiiiiiiiiii sing my song...alright!

there he was. richard maintained his same, proud smile as his fingers tickled the keys, ringing out a sound like true and uncertain laughter beneath unhinged vocals as the bass pushed them forward and the drummer's persistent boom-click-clash kept everyone in line. the performance was raw with the kind of honesty the blues demanded. leaf’s words seemed to cling to his breath as if taboo, like they shouldn’t, and yet they poured out of his mouth like they had to. 

you gotta rock me little darlin’, 

’til we’re satisfied...

let’s rock a little while.

that breathy spell summoned a good and long instrumental break and their bassist welcomed it, fingers climbing the bass guitar’s neck in a groove that demanded you lean into. the poet’s eyes, glazed and sunken, captured whichever beautiful faces he could out in the vast, dark sea of peeled-open eyes and he wanted to get closer and so he did; he made for the edge of the stage where he could be touched and where most that could were too scared to, where one bravely touched his pants and another, his boot. he crouched down to breathe them all in and they reeked of cheap cigarettes and even cheaper beer, young arousal and all in all, fertility. he stooped before one particular girl who reminded him of his lady back home  and who had been rather vocal throughout the performance along with her friend. wanting to know what she really had to say, he extended the microphone cradled in his loose hold out in front of her mouth and he watched her curl into herself with timidity like a flower fearing the consequences of blooming. leaf only smiled at her, a quiet, small, curious kind of smile that read her as if she had just unfolded like a book and let him peek into the library of her psyche. the suddenly shy girl nestled into the safety blanket beside her that was her friend’s laughter, bewilderment and the delayed sense of reality they shared. oh well.

with a swoop of his wrist he was back up and the microphone returned to the mouth of its rightful owner. he reeled in some of that loose cord and wrapped it around his forearm in time for the hook. still, he held the crowd in a hazy enchantment with every step he took while strangers held onto each other and another, braver stranger shouted ‘rock me’ as if to get him to say it. “come on!” they said. there was a sudden silence, a dangerous sense of intimacy established as the singer returned center stage, vulnerability as he hushed the crowd and eased them into his crawling outro. the band, together, made individual noises with their instruments as if trying to regain control and find themselves but not quite being able to get there.

yeeeeah i’m glad you waited for me ‘cause i think i’m...

yeeeeah i’m catchin’ on.

after a final little guitar lick, after the warm, dim lights dimmed down even further and the audience roared for another song, the summer of ‘67 marked the last time peridot would ever play at larry’s bar on the sunset strip and folks were left shaking, hungry, their anticipation never truly sated and their bodies humming with the familiarity of unleashed and imminent potential. come fall, the band would find themselves on television screens across america.