#i think there's no realisation nor transition for her from “before i loved you” and “after i loved you”

[starflungwaddledee]

💝 for Starstruck & Kirby, 👀 for Starstruck & Meta-Knight. :3 (💞 would also probably be a blast for these two but I don't want to overdo it and just send everything ^^;;;)

>>> kirby ship ask game here જ⁀➴ ♡!

6. 💝 What is each person’s love language (words of affirmation, acts of service, giving gifts, quality time, and physical touch)?

ouuugh. kirby, little guy is basically made out of love, isn't he?! his foremost love language is probably quality time, and perhaps words of affirmation. what he is doing all day every day is acts of service; saving everyone, rescuing kittens waddle dees stuck in trees, that sort of thing. but when he's on his own time it's all about going slow and experiencing things with the person he's with.

kirby strikes me as someone who'd be good at and very much enjoy planning surprises for his loved ones. sometimes even incredibly simple seeming things-- like swooping by on the warp star to pick starstruck up just when she can't get to sleep in the early morning-- but it's always exactly what the other person wants. kirby is incredibly busy, and he loves a lot of people!! i think he puts his all into each free moment and every chosen interaction he has. any time with him is precious and means a lot!

i think for him and starstruck, this would probably result in her boundless enthusiasm for every little thing he does. she'd be an outpouring of gratitude and delight and affection for him that in turn helps him feel the time was meaningfully spent for both of them.

9. 👀 What do other characters think of their relationship? Do they approve or disapprove?

frankly i think that the other three would be roasting the ever-loving fuck out of meta knight for this.

oh is that your waddle dee?? is that your waddle dee meta knight??? is that the waddle dee you were parading around a year ago telling us we had to be sooooooo suspicious of? hmm? same waddle dee?? same waddle dee and now you're bringing her your cakes to share and sneaking her up to your tower to show her your 'telescope'??? same waddle dee and now you won't let her out of your sight? is it really because you're 'doing your job protecting dream land' meta knight or is it because you're a big sook?? hmm?? hmmmmm?????

anyway they'd of course be so supportive outside of that and wouldn't care at all!!! 🤣 i don't think any of them are judgemental about that sort of thing except perhaps meta knight himself, so 😂

12. 💞 When did they each first realize that they had fallen in love with the other person? Did they confess their feelings soon after realizing or did it take a while for them to confess?

i probably kind of answered this one for meta knight over here, when i described how their first kiss might go, sometime in the future!

"did he confess after?" absolutely not. he's bottling that up soooooo deep.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hey there! I might have an oddly specific request, but like. I am craving a trope but I am too lazy to write anything myself. Feel free to not accept this :"D

Could you write maybe like a *micro* oneshot about Boothill finding his past lover (from before his planet got nuked), but here's the thing, the lover did an ftm transition, so Boothill may have not realised at first.

And secondly, there is a child. Boothill's, but he had no idea.

The circumstances under what they reconnect is up to you. Wether it's fluff or angst, also.

Thank you in advance, cool writer person!<3

🌑felt that first part😭 ALSO this idea is so good rAAAH I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IIITT (idk if this sucks but i hope i did this wonderful idea justice my dear, i poured all my love into this ❤️)

ALSO ALSO listened to 'Would you fall in love with me again' on loop writing this cuz the vibes are immaculate :)

Warnings: Spoilers for Boothill's backstory, mention of reader pre-transition as 'her' once but by male descriptors everwhere else, I have no experience writing ftm reader's so forgive my ignorance and let me know if I did good if you can 🥺

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠

The saloon is lively, crowded, not Boothill’s usual scene but fate or whatever sorry god is in charge of his path brought him here. His mission is complete and he’s exhausted – so out drinking he goes, even though he can barely feel the drink’s effects anymore. He supposes it must be the principle of the thing, a sort of tradition that helps him not lose his mind along the way.

Boothill scans the room by instinct, seeing dancing couples fill the entire room up to the corners – some slowly, some so fast it’s as if the universe is about to implode. A flash of a memory stings at the back of his brain, but he ignores it.

“Uhm! Mister!” Chirps a high pitched voice from below, clearly directed at himself. Looking down he spots a chubby-faced little girl, at which he raises a brow. Why a girl her age would ever think to approach him of all people in the saloon, he cannot imagine.

“Can you help me up, please? I wanna ask for some water,” she asks, polite but determined.

“Oh, well of course little lady!” He responds, gently holding her up and placing her onto the stool, once the cloud of nostalgia is gone from before his eyes. She just looks so familiar… The particular shade of brown of her eyes–

“Thank you mister!” The girl says brightly, sitting all cute and proper as Boothill waves the barkeep over, “It’s no trouble. Whatcha doin’ here, anyway? Y’ain’t alone, right?”

“Oh no mister, I’m here with my papa!” She replies cheerfully, pointing to the center of the room where the most people gather. Between swaying bodies he finds who she points at – twirling a giggling old lady is who Boothill suspects is the girl’s ‘papa’.

The cyborg cowboy no longer has a heart, nor a chest really, but it feels as if it stops in that moment. You don't spot him yet, lost as you are in your own little world, twirling around as sweat builds at your hairline.

But to Boothill everyone else fades as the pieces click into place – a grassfield beneath a starry sky, the love of his life before him, his flesh and bone hands around her blushing face… your face… no matter how you’ve changed, it’s you, he’d recognize you anywhere.

He must be seeing ghosts, surely. The girl’s father must just look like you, that’s it, it has to be, you’re dead… you have to be.

But Boothill knows in his soul that it is. You’re right there, dancing without a care in the world, changed and yet the same.

“Mister?” The little girl to him again, grasping at one of his sleeves and he turns. Her eyes, that particular shade of brown… it’s his, from when he was still flesh and blood. His head hurts. He feels drunk and crazy, maybe he should stop drinking after missions.

“There you are! You should’ve told me you wanted to rest,” You lightheartedly tell the girl, panting as you wipe sweat from your brow. From this close he’s sure it’s you, but Boothill still feels a little crazy for his thoughts. “Made a friend–?!”

The moment your eyes meet his, Boothill is finally sure it’s you. And he can tell you remember him too. Both of you seem stuck in time, gazing at each other like you’ve seen a ghost, which maybe you have, all things considered. The both of you should be dead.

Your mouth opens to speak but no words come out and you’re aching for a glass of water of your own. He’s here, alive and…

“You’ve… changed.” Boothill says lamely – so many things he wants to say, things he should’ve said long ago, things he would’ve said if he knew you were alive all this time.

“S-So have you!” Your voice cracks as you gawk at him, “You’re all… metal?”

Boothill chuckles, nerves eased by the familiarity that settles over the two of you – seems you haven't changed where it counts. “Yeah… it’s a long story.”

“Well, all I have is time.” He can tell you’re still upset with him, perhaps you will be for a while– heck! He’s upset with himself! He should’ve gone back for you, checked, double checked, triple checked!

“Just tell me one thing first;” The cyborg asks, watching as the girl sprints off towards who he assumes is a friend of hers, “Is she…” he points at himself.

“... Yeah. Her name’s Julia.” You tell him, sitting where she was, shoulders still tense as you watch him closely. He’s still as handsome as always, more rugged perhaps, more tired and grim, but the sight of his face still makes your heart stutter with affection. 

Boothill sighs heavily at the information, like the air’s been punched from his lungs, slumping over the bar and covering his eyes. You, alone as your planet burned while he went off to punish the ones who did it, was a heartbreaking enough picture to paint, but with a child? His child?

If they hadn't taken his tear ducts, he’d be filling the saloon up to the ceiling with his tears.

“Hey now, you can cry about it later, ok?” You say awkwardly, knowing you might start crying too if he does. 

He does as you ask, finally raising his head to look at you properly. You’re as beautiful as he remembers, of course you are. You could never stop looking so unfairly stunning to him, never.

Squirming in place as his cybernetic lock onto you, you feel the need to fill the empty space between you – as much as you wish to act like nothing had changed, a lot had, “How did you… recognize me?”

He finds it to be an odd question, of course he’d recognize you, yours is the only face he seems when he closes his eyes, haunting the few dreams he does have like a siren’s song beckoning him to linger within the memories of a better life before he became what he is now, “Y’haven’t changed that much.”

You blink at him, suddenly self-conscious, “... haven't I?”

Oh no, you look upset. He should’ve just said what he was thinking instead of whatever that was, “I– I didn't mean it like– I mean, you look great! Fudge I–”

You’re laughing, open and bright and lovely. Laughing at him no doubt, but laughing, “W-what– why do you– Fudge?”

“Ah, well, that’s part of that long story I told ya’bout.” He replies bashfully, because yeah, it would be strange to hear that coming out of his mouth to you.

Catching your breath and wiping the tears from your eyes, you smile fondly at the cowboy, “Sounds to me like we have some catching up to do.”

The farm boy in him wishes still that nothing had changed, that he could wake up from his dream and lay in the field beneath the stars again, hold you against his warm chest like always and have no IPC blood caked under his metaphorical nails, only dirt and sand from a hard day’s work. But the galaxy ranger he is now likes it better this way – change is inevitable and all things considered, this is one of the more fortunate outcomes of your story. 

You’ve both changed, but not where really it counts.

“That we do, sweetheart.”

[cursivebloodlines]

…Yeah. Maybe she was right; maybe he was too kind. She was not the first person to tell him this, nor would she be the last. At least, he surmised. It was something almost everyone he knew would say. To that, he’d simply offer a shrug. Why did people think being too kind was a bad thing? In Dougie’s opinion, there was not enough kindness in this difficult world. So, if he could do something, no matter how small, to try and make the world a slightly better place then why wouldn’t he? Always toeing the line between too much and not enough. What was it to be? He didn’t know how else to be. He noticed how she broke off her sentence before continuing it. Had Laurel wanted to say something else? But what? He wasn’t sure. Either way. He offered her a hint of a smile as a way of saying 'Sure, no probs' because to tell the truth, he wasn't sure what else to say. Surprised when Laurel admitted not having heard the second part of the saying before, he couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped him. And to be fair, she had taught him plenty, too. "Really? I just thought everyone knew...Y'know what they say...you learn something new every day." He teased, a twinge of amusement painted on his features. Some things never changed, it seemed. It was...a nice feeling. Familiarity. So much had changed and yet some things remained. "How about the one about curiosity killing the cat? Did you ever know the second part of that one?" Why he always was fond of cliche sayings everyone repeated, he wasn't sure; he might have inherited that from his grandad. They were little things he could hold on to on bad days, as strange as it may have sounded. Laurel mentioning the transitions caused the little smile on his face to grow a bit wider, a callback to some memories he remembered her telling him about came to mind. "Hmm. I shouldn't be surprised to hear that, really. I know how strong your relationship with PowerPoint is, like." With that, he gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow, a signal he was messing around. Like old times. Again with the familiarity. Seeing that mesmerizing smile on her face was everything, a reminder of one of the many reasons he fell in love with her, and for a moment it felt as though nothing had truly changed between them. If only. If only they could go back into a fairytale world where time travel existed and they could wipe away the last two years. Start over, and pick up from where they left off. Wouldn't that be the dream? About to assure her that she was never trouble, and she had never been trouble, but Dougie stopped himself upon realising she looked and sounded...surprised? The way she spoke two little words: it is. Like...like a question. Surprise or relief, he couldn't tell. "Of course, it is...why wouldn't it be?" Apart from the obvious elephant in the room...but even including that, he couldn't see why it wouldn't be nice to see her. Had she set herself to believe he would throw her out, tell her to go away after everything? No. He couldn't. Even if he wanted to, Dougie couldn't. He was never that way inclined. And he didn't want to either. Why would he not want to see the woman he missed the most, the woman who once upon a time had his heart? And still might have, even today. Not that he could explicitly state that. Not yet. Not now. "Me too. It's definitely made the day um, better," he said sheepishly. It felt daft to admit that, yet he wasn't sure why. Probably not the way some people would feel if they'd seen their ex who ditched them for a couple of years turning up on their doorstep. Dougie had always been a bit different to others, though. Feelings couldn't be helped. Especially his.

If only they could be helped. Dougie always wished he was one of those people who could pretend he didn't care when he did, or acted like one of those people where nothing bothered him. But he didn't have a degree in acting. The most he could uphold was convincing someone he was fine when he was dying inside... And that usually did not end well. Reading people, he wasn't particularly the best at either. It may come across as being able to but sometimes that was due to his overthinking brain. For example, if someone had any inkling of interest in him, he was always the last one to know about it because he never saw the signs. And probably never ever considered for a moment, how anyone would even look at him twice. Normally they had to spell it out to him. And yet at the same time, the more he got to know someone, the more he felt like he could read them well enough. He thought he accomplished that with Laurel. Got that one wrong, too. Would he ever get it right? And even if she always proceeded to tell him it was not his fault... All he could think of is how he should have tried harder with her. Shouldn't have taken everything at face value, should have read in between the lines. Peel back the layers he knew were there. With someone such as Dougie, it was a slippery slope to descend into without someone to pull you back over the railings and say Stop. You did everything you could. You need to let her go. In fact, it was probably those exact words he'd been told numerous times. 'Yeah, yeah. I know, I know' was how he would respond to those... look how that turned out for him. Part of him was surprised when she didn't anything in return to refute his attempts at 'believing' her. That smile on her face said it all though. She knew. But it seemed like she also knew it would be fighting a battle with him to convince him. It was early days; she had just come back. It was too soon to say if he could believe her... or if he ever would. He so desperately wanted to, though. Was that enough?

Dougie's mind continued to wander. No surprises, there. What was Laurel's plan after stopping by? Was she planning on going again? Staying? Where was she even staying now, if she was staying anywhere? For all he knew, this could have been a stop on the way to wherever she was heading to next. Part of him yearned to know whether he needed to brace himself for another goodbye - at least it would be a goodbye, this time, rather than a non-existent one - but was torn because he was afraid of not liking the answer. The coward's way out. Tentatively, he dared to steal another glance up at her, heart sinking as he saw the fresh tears in her eyes. How torn up about it she was...All he ever seemed capable of was hurting her. How everything he seemed to say only upset her more... How he despised being the reason for her tears. Even if some might feel she deserved them. That could never be the case... It only made him feel worse. She came here to give him answers, not for him to say stupid shit that had her on the verge of tears. That in turn, had him looking the same. God. They really were a mess, weren't they? Maybe that's why they worked so well together before. Two people, who alone seemed broken. Put them together and you get...something beautiful. Until those broken people become even more broken, he supposed. Listening to her words, he let out a croaky chuckle, a sad, watery smile on his lips. "Remember what you've just told me... now tell that to yourself as though I am saying it...because it seems like we both feel -" he paused to clear his throat and correct himself. "Felt... we both felt the same about each other in that respect. Neither of us having flaws when they're so blatantly there... not left for the other to see..." A small shrug rolled from his shoulders then. "Maybe our flaws have always been there. Even the ones you thought you hid so well, but we...never saw them as flaws." Wasn't that along the lines of what he'd suggested before? "And so we end up how we are now, running around in circles trying to convince the other we're both perfect." An amused chuckle left him then as he brightened up a little. It was a bit daft, wasn't it? Still, it lightened up the atmosphere that little bit more.

The more he found out about her family, or more specifically her mother, the more Dougie felt like he understood Laurel that little bit more. Constantly being told you're doing the wrong thing, the need to seek approval from one person you struggle to get it from...The satisfaction when it's finally there, the grief and loss when it's ripped away from you. It caused scars. That much, he could relate to. That wasn't even his family, so he could imagine what it must have been like for her. Her own mother...Sure, she said her dad was lovely and he was not to dispute that but...did he just sit there and let her mum get on with it? It didn't make sense. But families were a tangled web of complications, skeletons in the closets, and whatnot. He knew he was an only child because he was an accident to begin with. Despite having that knowledge - he found it out in a funny way, and his parents never made him feel like he was an accident - but clearly one child was enough for them. Dougie would have liked to have a sibling, because it was quite lonely at times being the only child. But he never felt less than due to his own family. It broke his heart to think how Laurel must have felt about hers. Honestly, as a non-confrontational person, it made him want to have words with her mum. Ask her directly, 'do you not realise the damage you've caused? How much you've made her suffer? How much she has lost because of you?' Dougie couldn't imagine himself actually saying that but he liked to believe he could toughen up for her and say the things no one dared to. Be the person people have always wanted to be - tougher. Because some people needed a reality check. Specifically, her mother.

Didn't that feel a bit hypocritical though? Dougie was miffed at the opinion of someone who he never even met and yet here he was, forming a sour opinion of someone he hasn't met. Some people simply didn't deserve a chance. He liked to think he did. Laurel's words did not bring him reassurance - nor did he expect them to. Why would they? Her opinion doesn't matter. "This is going to - I want to say sorry in advance because this is gonna come out all wrong," he prefaced uneasily, a sigh drawn out as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Please forgive me...But, Laurel - her opinion clearly did matter. At some point or another, it...it did. Because it was that specific opinion that made you want to..." he trailed off, shaking his head. It was too much. Maybe the truth was finally unnerving him. The truth won't set you free, as he anticipated. The truth just brought more questions to untangle, more questions that perhaps he nor Laurel could actually answer. Deep down, he figured he knew what she meant. But the surface of it. It stung. It would be a lie to say it didn't. It was too late anyway, the words already out. He braced himself for impact. Half worried that might have made her decide to walk away, if she thought...Ugh. He had no idea where his mind was heading. So much information to wrap his head around, he didn't even know where to begin. Once again it felt like she was just...trying to convince him to hate her. Every time he said something about her, she contradicted or explained why he shouldn't feel like that. "I know but my god, we all make mistakes. All of us. But if we just stand around, punishing ourselves for the rest of our lives, we are all going to be miserable. No one ends up happy. We all lose." The words flew out a mile a minute, Dougie didn't know where that sudden burst of words came from. If only he took his own advice there! Punishing himself for his mistakes was his forte. His own words left him breathless as he watched her expression change. The way she caught her words mid-sentence and then asked him the million-dollar question. How did Dougie feel?

Oh god, what have I done? He had two options. Option one: act dumb. Say the word 'what?' Or option two: change the word 'feel' to 'felt'. Correct it. Sound insincere whilst doing so...Unless he went with that third option in the back of his head...The truth. How could he tell the truth when he didn't quite know what that truth was? "O-oh...Um..." Using filler words to buy himself some time, a flicker of panic crept up on him. Deep breaths, Dougie. He started at her, bewildered for a few moments, his tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. He felt like he had a lie detector on him, or like he was waiting for the verdict on winning the top prize on some game show "I..." Inhale through the nose, out through the mouth. "I...I'm working on it, but..."his voice lowered a little as he mulled over his answer. "I feel...I feel confused. Conflicted...I thought - I guess I thought I..." Was it safe to admit it? oh, boy. "I thought I was over you. Now I...I don't know how true that was..." A sigh. "I'm happy, to see you, for however long it is. It's just...its tricky. This is - it's new territory for us. I'm still processing. And my feelings I just -" He never had been great at expressing how he felt, especially when put on the spot like that. "I know I loved...I loved you once. You were everything to me. And all these feelings have just...crept out from under the woodwork, so to speak. And I don't know what to do with it all." He let out a breathy laugh, he knew he wasn't making any sense. "There is a lot...but I'm working on it. You've kinda put me on the spot here, words aren't making sense. Sorry." It was like a storm flood of emotions had washed through him at full force, unable to say what he actually wanted to say so it all came out in the form of word vomit, stumbling over his words. It probably wasn't what she wanted to hear...but he couldn't forgive himself if he jumped straight in and then went back on his word later on. Dougie couldn't hurt her like that.

Back to the parent talk. He nodded slowly as she responded to his question, biting his lip gently as he watched her. "Maybe...I don't know, I can't comment on that really. Maybe she does love you but if that's the case, she's got a weird way of showing it." Was that too harsh? He wasn't sure but he couldn't take back what was said. Nor did he want to, really. The way she was quick to answer his question made his heart skip a beat. The word love...changed to loved. Past tense, like he'd used. Ouch. His own fault but still. She could never have imagined leaving him...yet still left him anyway. It came back to that, every single time. He despised that his brain always tagged that on the end of anything she said. "It's not your fault for believing it... you shouldn't be mad at yourself for it."

"It's...it's okay." Did something shift in the atmosphere or was it just a case of Dougie overthinking yet again? Analysing everything? "You don't need to keep apologising, you know. I heard ya the first...hm, I dunno, ten times," he joked halfheartedly, a tired smile gracing his features. It was weird being on the other end of that. Of being the person to insist they stop saying sorry, rather than be told that. Always sorry for something...Crazy how they were sort of similar in that regard. Maybe he was still rubbing off on her even now. "Easy win," he said lightly, again attempting to alleviate whatever sort of tension he felt lingered between them. Was this it? Was this...was she done here? Inhaling a deep breath involuntary when she stepped closer towards him, his heart doing somersaults. She took his breath away. He was captivated by her, mesmerised by her beauty. It was then he just knew...he absolutely wasn't over Laurel. "Yeah...o-of course. Positive." The words barely came out audible, his voice just above a whisper. Dougie never meant to gawp at her but there he was, gawping. Until her arms wrapped around him and...he felt like he was at home. Stunned into silence, his arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her in closer as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. Breathing her in, inhaling the scent of her perfume, or her shampoo...So familiar, it made his heart ache. Wondering if she could feel the way his heart currently thundered against his chest, whether it gave him away completely. Was it bad that he didn't want to let her go? That he couldn't bear the thought of it? Her apology felt like it broke his heart and mended it all at the same time. It was all very confusing. "I-I know. It's okay...it's -" Dougie breathed shakily. "I...I forgive you for it." Maybe a part would always hold on to that, or to her. But how could either of them ever move forward - whether it was with each other or not - if he didn't offer her forgiveness? Laurel clearly punished herself enough. He didn't want to inflict any more pain on her. "I forgive you."

Here he was, giving her sympathy and disregarding this punishment she had created in her head - even if she did deserve it. Objectively. "You're just too kind Dougie, I mean I-" I love you for it. It's what she wanted to say. But it just wasn't her place anymore. "I appreciate it though." An eye for an eye, there was a second part to that saying?? She'd only ever heard the first part, her family was not one that considered that 2nd portion. It was news to her. "I didn't know there was a second part to that, you're still teaching me..even now." At least that hasn't changed for them. That thought brought her comfort. He was always the one teaching her new things, opening her eyes to new ideas, bringing a softer tone to her world, and letting her believe there was more. "Too fancy? The transitions are the best part." Well, to her at least. It reminded her of the months she was in love with PowerPoint and iMovie transitions and would make a presentation of just about anything. The day at the park, the sandwich she had for lunch - you name it. Had she mentioned that to Dougie? Probably one of those embarrassing childhood stories you share during a night of drinking. "Got it though, the thought that counts," she said, bringing a small smile to her lips. To see that smile, hear his laughter in this room - Laurel could continue talking about this same topic for hours. Saying anything just to bring that smile back. But every moment had to come to an end. The laughter faded, and she was brought back to the present. Her own delusion brought whiplash. It was the reminder that there was nothing left between them. That she had lost the one good thing in her life, that she could be here with him and still not have him. "Good, I really don't want to bring more trouble to your life and..." stunned once more. Her words caught in her throat, it was the last thing she expected to hear today. He really thought so, that it was nice to see her? Her heart leapt with joy, practically skyrocketing to the sky. "It is..?" she breathed out, holding on to his words. Making sure she remembered what he said, word for word. Just for her to have on a rainy day, when things got bad and she needed some positive words. She could always resort to her memories of him. "It's really nice to see you too...I'm glad I got the chance."

Reading people didn't come easy to Laurel. It's how she often said the wrong thing, missed the mark time and time again. But with Dougie, it was easier. She wanted to make that effort, learn these things about him. Learn how to read his tells, his facial expressions. He let her in, and well, the rest was history. She just felt a deep regret for not doing the same for him. Not letting him see everything, and giving him the option to decide if she was still worth the trouble. Thinking back, that might have been a better solution to her dilemma. But if he didn’t think that? If he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble? She wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Hearing him now though, her heart shrunk with shame. He wouldn’t do that. She could’ve trusted him, confided in him, and received the love and security she desperately wanted to find. At the end of the day, ‘should’ve’ didn’t exist - there was no way to go back in time and change that day. Or change all the days before that, to stop hiding herself from him and letting him in. All she had was the present, trying to do it now, for whatever it was worth. It wasn’t a great job, Laurel knew. He was saying he believed her, but no one could trust the same person twice. She couldn’t blame him for being hesitant with the person who had already broken every promise she had made to him. Her word meant nothing. Laurel only tilted her head, offering a small smile in return. The smile that said, we’ll leave it here for now but know that, I meant what I said.

Showing up here included a plan. Be truthful, tell him everything, and leave. Leave the moment he asked, or leave if he decided he didn't want to hear any of it. The point was, it all included: leaving. But, her feet were rooted in the ground, unable to move and each time his lips uttered her name, it made it all more difficult. Breath hitched in her throat as he stepped towards her, and Laurel wanted to reach out. To meet him halfway. To admit that her feelings didn't shift to past tense, no matter how much she wished for it or tried. Wished to rip out the love she felt for him. Anything to dull the blow, numb the pain she felt every time she woke up and remembered he wasn't next to her. Had he done the same? Laurel couldn't help but wonder, had someone already mended his heart and was she just here undoing all that work? She scolded herself for interrupting him, speaking over him. Her words always running at 50 miles per hour. Noticing how he stepped back, how his gaze cast down. God, would she ever stop fucking up? Her heart found new ways to shatter as he wiped his tears away, what she would give to do that for him. Laurel was tempted, tempted to give into her desire to be close to him, and damn 'what was right.' And she would, if it didn't include hurting him more. She would selfishly give in. Fresh tears threatened to fall when he said that. It was so painstakingly obvious, and she missed it. Lost everything because she didn't believe, didn't trust that someone could actually love her that way. "Ten? Impossible, I looked everywhere..didn't see any. I think I just view you differently than you see yourself. You could do no wrong in my eyes." A slow shake of her head, a dry chuckle falling from her lips. "I guess I did my job a little too well...I'm sorry about that too."

Families were complicated. That's all she knew. Her mother complaining always dissatisfied with her life, the choices she made. Always reminding Laurel what not to do. Don't be naive, the world is not like that. Love is a waste of time, where's it going to get you? Spending time with her dad, who would then tell her the opposite. Love is a lot of things, but never a waste of time. Talking to the man who would look back on his life fondly, despite his choice of spouse (in Laurel's opinion). She never understood her parents, why they remained together. Laurel was an only child for a reason. Her mom disliked parenting, hated how it 'tied her down.' But, they just never separated. Perhaps, her father was too attached, her mother too comfortable to leave. Still, their volatile relationship showed her a lot. The constant push/pull between her parents’ different life lessons. In the end, her mother's won out. Despite how much she loved and respected her father's opinion, she just wanted to impress her mom once. To do something right in her eyes, something that would earn her some affection and respect. This, amongst other things were the reason she kept her family hidden. If there was one person Dougie could ever meet, it would be her dad. He'd like Dougie a lot, she was certain of that. She would've liked to do that, the normal things. Meeting his parents, him meeting hers. None of that mattered now, what could've been was only a reminder of the mistakes she made.

"I..I know. It's very shitty, that's why I never tell her anything." Never tell her anything, never visit - just completely keeping distance. He was right, about everything. Her mother's opinions and the way she went through life. Dougie looked upset, and frankly, Laurel couldn't blame him. It wasn't easy to say, probably was not easy to hear either. For someone to dislike you without even knowing them. She had really set him up for failure. "But it wasn't right, her opinion of you..or us. She doesn't know you, her opinion doesn't matter." It was a futile attempt to remind him to not take this one to heart. Her mom's opinion was so shallow, it wasn't even worth the time of day. He had to believe that, it wasn't him. The weak smile was inevitable, the corners of her lips pulling upwards, though it didn't remove the lump in her throat. It was impossible, he didn't have to, but he was healing her heart without realizing. Little by little, removing the weight her mom had dumped on her. And that, perfectly described Doug to her. He never had to, but he did. He always would. It hurt knowing that, because she was clearly benefitting from this trait, but Laurel couldn't help but feel like she was taking advantage of him for it. She couldn't respond, didn't want to contradict him because he'd probably reiterate everything, couldn't respond when he mentioned falling in love. It should make a difference though. What she did, shouldn't that change how he viewed her? Hated her when she walked away...anything? Laurel didn't really want to ask, even if she deserved an answer like that. "I..it was a pretty big mistake Dougie. It's not a mistake like getting the wrong ice cream flavor at the store. I..I destroyed our relationship, hurt you..abandoned you. I was responsible for killing..this, our love." Words that had definitely run around her mind before, but saying them out loud - it truly cemented to her how shitty she was. "How is that amazing? It was so—" her words interrupted. Nothing you can say will change the way I feel about you. How did he feel about her? Was it mere appreciation of their old relationship, like seeing an old friend? Were there still any feelings lingering? Her mind burned with curiosity. "The way you feel..and h-how is that?" It was a bold question, but she needed to know. Did she have a chance, a chance to make it up to him? Or did she have to accept that it was lost..and had to move on? His question caught her by surprise, brows raising at the follow up. It was a fair question, one she'd been asking herself. "No no, don't..apologize. You can ask whatever you'd like, remember?" A million questions and all that. "About your question, I...honestly don't know. I used to think it was my happiness, that she was looking out for me. What was best for me, parents know best and what not. But, then I began wondering if she just..wants me to do what she wished to do with her life. Living through my life..or something. I don't know, that sounds ridiculous. Maybe it's a bit of both, she loves me, right? So, some of it has to be for me." Oh, how she lived in delusion.

Laurel shook her head adamantly, quickly answering his question. "No! It never crossed my mind, I love..loved you," mirroring his use of past tense, just for his sake. "So much...I couldn't imagine leaving you." Her head titled slightly, he was perfectly describing how she felt. How this entire situation felt. How easily she crumbled under her mom's direction. How much influence she held over her. Laurel always felt proud of her independence, stubbornness, how no one could make her do anything she didn't want to. But, that woman was the exception to all of it. Under her, she became the lost, insecure child she truly was. The strong character fading away, as if a facade. "Right, yeah you described it perfectly. It's very easy, it's infuriating how easy I believe."

She lost his gaze for a minute, as he looked away from her. Had something happened? At first, she was the one looking away - shame and embarrassment keeping her from meeting his eyes. However, after a few minutes, she found herself getting lost in them. Admiring every detail, committing it to memory once more. Two years was a long time away. His soft locks, his piercing blue eyes, the curve of his lips. No matter how much she held on to it, the memories began getting fuzzy over time. Laurel still didn't believe him entirely, that he wasn't just saying things to make her feel better. But she didn't fight him further. Didn't want to make this more difficult for him. "I did promise you the truth, I'm sorry. I'm not saying these things to sway you one way or another, I just...I hate talking about myself and my life in a way that evokes pity. I know you're not..that's not what you're doing, I'm just not used to that." Her arms crossed over her chest, an attempt to keep her feelings under control. To keep her from just closing the distance between them. Oh, right. The ex. Laurel didn't know the whole story, it wasn't something she pushed for, but bits and pieces had occasionally slipped.The mention of that woman angered her, all she had heard about her so far, was enough for Laurel to form her opinion. Wanting to find her, just to talk. Question how the hell she could do that to him. Though, she supposed now she had to sit there and be part of that group of people that had hurt him. Maybe not to that extent, but it still happened. Couldn't question someone when you had done the same. "I..yeah, I guess it's not as bad when you put it that way. I'll take that win, not holding the most hated ex title." And with that confirmation, that she had provided answers, Laurel knew she had done what she came for. It felt odd, knowing your job here was done. Where do you go from there? Did she awkwardly say goodbye or see you around? Did she ask to grab coffee with him and ask to see him again, because truthfully, she couldn't bear being away from him? Laurel didn't really know yet. "That is what I'm worried about..but are you sure?" Tentatively, she took a step forward. Just one. Unsure of what she'd do next. Her heart was pulling her forward, towards him. And she didn't say anything else, afraid to ask. Instead, she just let her arms wrap around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Being here, inhaling his scent, it caused a shaky sigh to fall against the fabric of his shirt. It was only a second. She knew he could easily pull away, and he probably would, but even one second felt right. It was one more second than she deserved, but it was enough for her to keep with her. "I-I'm really sorry, for everything."

[tteokdoroki]

an ode to winter | dabi.

♡ pairing: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 14.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: manga war arc!au, single-parent!au, unplanned pregnancy!au,  angst, fluff, smut.

♡ summary: touya todoroki had broken a lot of things, your heart, promises, your window a few times, but you swore he'd never leave your child feeling that way. but when he wants back into your life, will he take no for an answer? And do you even want to say it?

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, ( literally 5k of it ), MANGA SPOILERS IN THE EXTENDED ENDING,  mentions of pregnancy, mentions of semi-toxic!relationships, struggling with parenting, blackmail ??,   unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, losers ), handjobs, oral sex ( female receiving ), fingering ( female receiving ),  choking, branding, squirting, spit!kink, needy touya lol <3

♡ author’s note(s): OK so this started out as a fic for my bestie @ozzy-bozzy​ but then turned into this long ass vent fic bc i do be struggling!! i’ve barely written for touya so apologies if his character is off. special thanks to @bakugous-trauma for beta reading n @doinmybesthere for the summary and beta reading and thanks for 4.7K MWAH <3

♡ masterlist | requests

the snow had fallen heavy that day, its flakes dancing along the window panes while you’d brought her into the world. you hated the cold, the way it nipped at your nose and stung at your cheeks, how it could freeze over a heart so badly that it would take years to thaw it out. you’d complained about the ice sheets that frosted your windows to the doctors, the ones on the roads too, but they’d simply wrote it off as your anxieties related to bringing kori home for the first time in such weather.

funnily enough, your daughter much resembled the cold in many ways. you’d named her ‘kori’; meaning ice, since her hair was white as the crisp blanket of winter outside and her eyes a piercing shade of aqua marine, that for a while, had no meaning written behind them except for a cool curiosity that you knew didn’t come from your side of the family. she wasn’t warm either, the first time you held her, her flesh against yours was almost a painful spark of frostbite— you expected that it was related to the lineage she came from too.

you thought that you’d resent kori when she was born; for the struggles that her new life had brought to you. you’d given birth alone and afraid, having lost friends and contact with your family due to keeping your pregnancy a secret. if they had known who caused you to end up in this situation in the first place, you were sure you’d have lost them all anyways. you hadn’t a chance to attend maternity classes due to the hours you worked in order to ensure yourself and your child’s financial security. although, prior to her arrival, dabi had told you that if you chose to give your daughter the todoroki name; you both would be looked after when the right time came.

and like a fool in love, you’d believed him, avoiding the apologetic gazes of the doctors and midwives who’d delivered your baby as you filled out her paperwork and birth certificate. one nurse even asked you if you wanted to contact endeavour for support, and you couldn’t blame her— the rumours of your child potentially being that of natsuo todoroki’s had spread fast through the hospital and it was a given, figuring his bad boy college reputation. natsuo and his ventures into the college life were no stranger to the media, so it didn’t surprise you nor the doctors to believe that this wasn’t the first time a girl had given birth alone to a todoroki child. you suspected that if there were any, enji todoroki would have paid them off.

so you let them believe what ever false truth that might have plagued the hospital walls about yourself and your daughter— not having the heart to tell them that you’d probably receive a much larger sum of money to keep hush about the child that you mothered and the child who’s father belonged to endeavour’s deceased, eldest son.

so you realised, thumb held by the chubby hand of your sweet infant girl; that you couldn’t hate her for the mistakes you’d made and the mess you’d become tangled up in— you could only promise to do your best in raising her despite the odds and difficult circumstances, you could give her the life and childhood that her father never had but most certainly deserved.

“miss yn...”

your midwife; himari enters the room, calling for you— tearing your gaze away from the hypnotising sea-foam eyes belonging to your daughter, the way she looked at you only reminding you of dabi. you’d told him once that his eyes always took you to the mediterranean sea, to which he’d laughed and mentioned you’d never seen it before. when the pair of you realised that this was true, the boy with the black hair and intoxicating stare made an oath to you, that he would take you there someday so you could bask in the warm sun and dip your toes into the clear oceans. you only hoped that this oath still remained true.

“miss yn...” himari tries again, this time stepping further into your hospital room. your thoughts had carried you so far away that you hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten as she lingered by your cot. her hands lay flat against her pale blue uniform, nails you note—neatly trimmed— and a smile that would have made you feel comfortable had you not known she’d volunteered to care for you because she too believed she’d be paid off by endeavour. you almost felt bad that she thought the silly lie was true and that she had a shot at a big time bonus but it was funny to think that no one would believe her when she eventually took to the news to claim that she cared for the next heir of the todoroki empire. “it’s says here, that kori is scheduled for feeding— i was wondering if you wanted to continue breast feeding or try pumping a bottle or two today?”

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you hum with hesitance. feeding kori was something you’d never discussed with dabi, some of the nurses had assured you that it was possible for you to do both— so that you could grow closer to your daughter and form a tight bond whilst also giving the opportunity to others to feed her when need be. there weren’t many others, but you figured that dabi might want to give bottle feeding a whirl when he finally returned from the league business. the business that had made him miss his little girl’s birth.

kori gargles from hunger in your arms, drawing your attention back to her tiny form. a stray strand of hair curls against her forehead from underneath her blankets and swaddling— the end you notice has a slight tint of red to it. the icy shell around your heart thaws. glancing back up to himari; you grin with a decision in mind. “i’d like to try breast feeding again, we can use the pump tomorrow.” you say, voice quiet.

“do you need any help getting her to latch?” your midwife asks, aiding you into a comfortable position to feed kori.

“no,” you smile after getting settled, pushing down your gown to expose your breast to your little girl. “i’ve got her, i can take care of her.”

you say the words more so to yourself than to himari, a hidden reassurance that you’re more than capable of raising your daughter on your own.

for now at least.

that winter, dabi never came home.

the snow melts, the flowers bloom and the seasons change. your daughter grows with the swift transition of the weathers too, her hair is a little longer now but the small curl of red against her forehead remains hidden and the same. her eyes open wider, still that deep shade of ocean blue, she can sit up on her own, throws toys out of her crib  and her favourite movies are bambi and bambi two. they’re the only things that she watches, which you hate, because they remind you of her. an innocent child who loses one parent and is left in the care of the emotionally closed off other.

you hadn’t realised how much you would need dabi, but still he is nowhere to be seen.

raising kori on your own proves a challenge, especially now that she’s a little bigger— it was easy after she was born; she was quiet and only made a fuss when she was hungry or needed to be changed. went down easy too, that was until her wails reared their ugly head as soon as the colder parts of winter hit. no matter what you did, the girl would cry for hours on end until her face would hurt from how scrunched it was and her fingers would turn red from the grip she had on your hands.

since her birth, you and kori had to move three times due to the noise complaints about her consistent crying throughout the day, evening and night. by the time february rolled around, you’d ended up in an apartment not so far from dabi’s old neighbourhood— it was a shitty area with high crime rates and an eerie feel to it that made you clutch your purse tighter when you walked home from the late night shifts— you had never had any intentions to raise kori in a dump like this, you wanted a better life for her than what dabi had, but your shabby two bedroom apartment in the dark side of town would be enough for now.

the rent was cheap since your current boss at the local grocers market was close friends with the building manager, but your boss was also a sleaze who thought offering you an extra 10% off of your weekly shop and an expired coupon for the coffee joint down the street would be enough to get into your pants. he was just another thing on your list that you hated about the world, about the current life you lead but you needed to keep him close to keep your rent low and a roof over your head.

besides, it had been a few days since you last saw him at work— the asshole was probably taking a few days to himself while you and your colleagues practically ran the store.

you can’t leave kori with a sitter; they never worked with her. your daughter was far too temperamental for the average person and would spend one night with her before taking their pay and quitting. the only person able to handle your beloved little girl was the old lady who lived two floors above yours, mrs. yamamoto. she was a sweet woman, widowed by fifteen years and had taken a liking to kori that one time you’d helped with her groceries when she couldn’t make it out in the february winter after your little girl was born.

it seemed kori liked mrs yamamoto as well, she was only ever quiet in the woman’s presence and you put it down to how high she had the heat up in her apartment. one time, it was up so high the power in the building went out for an entire night— which was hell for you since kori wouldn’t stop bawling. however; you appreciated the help, you’re sure that without the help of the elder woman you would have been far under the surface— drowning in regret.

but sometimes, it’s easy for the darker emotions to slip through the cracks— take a choke hold over your sanity. there would be nights where guilt would consume you and tears would flow heavily down your cheeks while your daughter slept. it was hard being alone, no one to confide in about the troubles of parenting or to reassure you that you were doing a good job at taking care of your child.

it didn’t help that winter was coming up again, kori’s first birthday fast approaching. the sudden milestone only made you wish that dabi was around more — it hurt you to know that there was possibility he’d run out on you and his responsibilities as a father but part of you believed that your lover was better. the eldest todoroki son appeared way too excited throughout your pregnancy to leave you with nothing.

despite not being able to make it to appointments due to his criminal nature, dabi had somehow manged to find the money to get you a 4D ultra sound of your baby, telling you a few odd jobs here and there allowed him to scrape the cash together. you never asked what it was that he did, afraid of what you might find in the eyes of the man that you loved so much.

why did you allow yourself to love a man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day if he hadn’t broken into your home? his seafoam eyes a glowing shade as he threatened your life through shards of broken glass and then wails of cop sirens outside. were you just as broken as he? had you not realised it yet? you could blame this whole mess on the fact that he kept coming back, but you always let him back in. dabi was a broken man who only knew blood and grit and grime and you were the girl with a chance to lead a normal life— yet you poured all of your heart and all of your soul into loving him because you were so sure that you could fix him.

and every single time you’d convinced him, convinced yourself that what you had could be normal and domestic— dabi would slip between your sheets, pinning you to your bed with your name heavy on your lips and the emotion of love painted into the turquoise flecks in his eyes. they burned with passion while his heated cock sunk between your plush thighs and welcomed him into your warmth. the moans you’d share while your skin slapped together, creating a bubble of safety where you were the only two people on the world.

dabi made promises against your swollen lips as his fingers swirled hidden messages of desire into your slick, puffy clit. he couldn’t give you the ring, the wedding or the house with the white picket fence and dog barking at the post man in the front yard— but he could give you every part of him from the good to the bad, the beautiful to the ugly and he would seal that promise with a throaty groan of ‘you are mine and i am yours...’ into your ear as you came together.

but it seemed that like all things, dabi’s promises were broken like shattered glass— never meant to be kept or eternalised. the shards cut your delicate fingers, the pain numbed as you were left to pick up the pieces and be strong for the small life you were now responsible for.

you were careful to not let the door fly in and hit the wall opposite as you unlocked it, stumbling into your two bedroom with kori’s chubby legs locked around your hips and bag full of groceries in your other hand. “look princess,” you coo down at your daughter sweetly, watching as she drools all over your staff lanyard from work. “we’re home!” bending down, you dropped the produce off by the door before heading off to your living room area, propping kori in front of her toy mat.

smiling down at her, you brush the pure white hair that curls over her cobalt eyes and kiss her freckled cheeks— heart swooning at the way kori giggles in your arms. she’d been on her best behaviour the entire week, keeping out of trouble with the staff at her daycare and mrs yamamoto in the place upstairs, so it was only right that you treat her.

“you hungry babygirl? want mommy to make your favourite, hm?” kori is barely old enough to talk aside from a few babbles and repeats of mama but that doesn’t stop you from asking.

“mmmamamamaa!!”

you press another kiss to her baby fat cheeks before heading to the kitchen to prepare her favourite dinner— spaghetti. ever since kori started eating her solids, she hadn’t been a picky eater and you noticed that her appetite much resembled dabi’s, who couldn’t afford to be fussy about any of the meals you’d made for him before he disappeared.

making the sauce is easy, a dish you’d prepared from when you were a child and used to cook with your parents— you retrieve the ingredients from the groceries and pull out the stuff you’ll need to cook them. you mince the vegetables easily like you’d been taught as your mind gets away from you.

you wish that dabi was here to enjoy the domesticity of your current life— maybe him being around would lift the dark cloud over your life. sometimes it hurt to know that he would be missing out on moments like this and you could imagine him sitting by the couch while kori played with her toys and you cooked for them both. in this world, he’d laugh at her fascination with colder toys and magnets— make a joke about how much your little girl resembles him and kiss your cheek when you served them both up their favourite meals.

tears pool in your eyes at the thought of your wish never being granted and that’s all it takes for you to slip and cut your finger while chopping up the garlic. “fuck!” you boss, dropping the knife and squeezing your hand around the wounded digit. you know that the clattering of the knife has scared kori, and from the way she looks at you, you can already tell that she’s seen you injure yourself. “god, fuck...that hurt.”

there’s a pause in time, while you rinse your cut under the tap, cold water soothing the sting before kori starts to wail like her life depends on it. in a rush, you grab a tea towel in hopes that it’ll stop the bleeding and head straight for your baby, hoping that you’ll be able to soothe her. by the time you reach kori, her eyes are red with tears and snot dribbles from her nose down to her chin while she babbles loosely all the new words she’s learned— in a whiny tone.  

“baby, don’t cry mommy’s got you,” you murmur to her, reaching out to the little girl with open arms. your heart breaks at the way her bottom lip wobbles in a watery pout. kori crawls into your arms, white mop of soft baby hair buried into the junction between your shoulder and your neck— her tiny body shakes with awful heaves and cries while her tears dampen the old hoodie of her father’s that you wear, effectively ruining the fabric. “come on honey, it’s okay! momma didn’t mean to scare you...”

she snivels in your arms, quiet for only a second while you walk around the apartment bouncing her. walking kori up and down seems to soothe her for the most part, a trick that worked when she was first born and had her horrible crying fits. “good girl, mama’s got you...” you continue to soothe her, brushing a finger under her white lashes to remove her tears. all is well for a second and it seems her tantrum has calmed, until she grabs onto your wounded finger and makes you curse in pain again.

“shit!”

“m-momma-!” kori whimpers, face creasing in pain as her cheeks start to heat up again. you fear that if you don’t do something soon she’ll bust a lung from crying.

you shake your head in an attempt to calm her down, baby sobs striking right through your body and resume bouncing her, hoping that it’ll work. “shhh kori, honey, it’s okay— mommy’s okay and so are you...” in the process of comforting her, you somehow trip over the discarded knife, sending it flying into the cabinets across from the island and making another loud noise that further spooks kori.

at this she screams bloody murder, the sound of her little chest heaving giving you a splitting headache. you were tired, tired of your daughter’s crying , working long hours with no help and raising a child all on your own. you were tired of the pain spreading through your head and your body and your heart. you needed an out or break at the very least.

you should feel guilty for what you’re about to do, heading for the nursery with a heaving baby in your grip. you can’t think of anything better to do than put kori down for a nap and hope that her crying tires her out— you do your best to pry the little girl from clinging onto your clothes and tuck her into her crib as she sniffles, quickly backing out of her room before she can call for you and make you feel even worse than you already do.

you close the door quietly behind you, somewhat sliding down it while your own sobs take over your body— shaking you violently as you hug your knees to your chest. you don’t know how long you sit there, biting your lips and holding onto in your whimpers while tears stream down the apples of your cheeks, but eventually

you find yourself drifting off with dreams of your happy family.

you jump awake a few hours later, surrounded by a thick darkness from the sky outside. the hum of the city streets helps to bring you back down to earth as you rub the sleep from your puffy eyes and blink away the exhaustion. you don’t quite remember when you’d fallen into a slumber but you figure that kori must have eventually, judging by the quietness that surrounds your apartment.

the blanket of the night allows your guilt to burn brightly in your chest— you shouldn’t have left her alone. scrambling to your feet, you stumble over to the kitchen counter and grab your phone to read the time. 11:06pm. it’s just about time that you check on your daughter, but with two steps of heading to the nursery and you’re met with foreign sound that doesn’t quite fit in with the usual creaks and squeaks of your apparent.

happy gurgles belonging to your baby creep out from underneath her bedroom door, low humming or singing to accompany her sweet sound. humming that you don’t recognise. with a pang of fear to your heart, you reach for the knife on your kitchen floor as a weapon of defence— this would go down nicely with the police. a single mother on self defence...yeah, that could work out.

the knife shakes in your hand as you approach kori’s nursery, barely steady even when you push open the door.

“...touya?”

nothing could prepare you for what you’d see after walking into that room but when your eyes fall witness to your love standing in the centre of the room with a little tuft of white hair cradled to his bare chest. the air around you tingles with warmth as if dabi has heated the place up with his quirk and your little girl curls into him as if she’s known him all her life. but she hadn’t, he hadn’t.

all at once, your heart heals just as it breaks— it’s been so long since you’ve seen the villain that you can’t help but notice all the changes in him, the way his eyes droop a little more with exhaustion and his hair dusted with a the slightest bit of white. he was noticeably thinner too, maybe from being away from a warm bed and good food for too long...so a half of you was relieved that he was home, the other— hurt and betrayed.

“hey beautiful,” dabi’s timbre voice fills your entire being, stimulating your senses into a dull tingle. his lips a drawn into soft smirk as he rocks kori back and forth, your  baby’s eyes flutter with the gentle indication of sleep. “how’ya been?”

if you weren’t frozen in shock, you would have given the villain a piece of your mind. how dare he...after all this time apart from you, from his daughter...ask how you were doing? your eyes flutter to the open window behind the oldest todoroki son, as if you need to look away from him to convince yourself he’s real and he won’t disappear when you look back.

proven right by meeting the cool, chartreuse sea of his eyes— your throat runs dry as all you’d ever dreamed of saying in this moment, flees from your mind. “what are you doing here?” you say, trying to sound firm even though your voice falls through.

touya stays quiet, twirling a long finger through the small curls on his—your daughter’s head. “i was in the neighbourhood.” he mumbles, gaze tearing away from you to focus on the content infant he has in his arms.

you should feel angry, you should be screaming and kicking at dabi— forcing him out of your home with your child safe in your own arms but your body doesn’t will you to. hurt seeps through your veins at the casual aura in his tone. of course dabi would treat the situation as if it never existed and that he’d been with you the whole time. the pain of seeing him with her as if he’d been in kori’s life from the very start wraps around your heart in a poisonous grip and squeezes hard until you’re choking back a sob, letting it sit in the base of your throat.

you refuse to break in front of him.

“you need to go. you need to put her down and you need to leave.” you attempt to assert yourself in a harsh bark, almost making dabi jump. he’d never seen you like this before, but then again he hadn’t seen you in a year. he could only imagine what motherhood had done to you, especially facing it on your own. touya hesitates, kori shifting in his soft grip— one he didn’t even know that he had as a villain but you steady yourself and repeat your words. “touya, i said you need to leave.”

“why? so you can fall asleep and leave her crying on her own again?” the villain spits out, harsher than he intended. he watches your face fall and your body curl in on itself and he feels bad. dabi had promised you a lot of things since realising he loved you, and not hurting you like his father hurt his mother was one that he’d just broken. relenting, the dark haired villain eases kori from his pec and tucks her into her crib.

there’s a beat of silence and then. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be.”

“yn,” he sighs, running a hand through the light roots of his hair as he leans over his child’s crib. the young father tilts his head, scanning kori’s face while he identifies every characteristic she has from the family he’d done his best to free himself of.   “i’m sorry, it’s just— just that she was cold and crying, so i took off my shirt and held her and she warmed up and—“ dabi pauses his quiet rambling, finally looking up from the slumbering baby tucked away into powder blue silk and locks eyes with you. “and she probably has my mom’s shitty quirk. and i can’t get over how much she looks like them, how big she’s gotten.”

touya finds his shirt after admitting that, throwing on the thin white material before closing the window he came through. he moves with the swiftness that comes with his job, and it’s almost peaceful to watch. you stay plastered by the door, torn between falling right into the palm of his hand and demanding the answers that you and your daughter deserve.

it makes you feel a little sick when he gazes down at kori with pride, it makes you queasy at how easy she was to handle to him. touya todoroki doesn’t know half of what it was to raise his child...but did that make you a bad mother? was there something he shared with kori that you didn’t? dabi hadn’t known what it was to love someone other than himself until he’d met you, but you’d spent your entire life around family and friends who took care of you and made you feel cherished every day. you had all of that before you had dabi, and you’d given it all up for him.

shouldn’t you be the one to easily put your daughter down for a nap? to soothe her tears? and for him to come so briskly into your lives and take care of it all when he doesn’t even know what you’d been through, hurts most of all.

“you don’t even know her,” you start, tremble to your bottom lip as the sob in your throat builds up and threatens to burst. “you never saw her after she was born, never cut the cord, never knew her weight. you don’t know how tiny she was when she came into the world, you don’t know because you didn’t come!” with each word, stray tears manage to escape from your tired eyes, but you’re too fixated on dabi to bother to wipe them. it hurts to cry, it stings even as they stream down the apples of youth cheeks but you don’t move.

“yn, sweetness, i—“

“i know how much she weighed when she was born, four pounds and thirteen ounces. she was so tiny i was scared that she would break—“ you’re gasping now, almost choking yourself out on the pain that burns brightly in your lungs and claws its way up your throat. “i know her favourite foods, what fabrics irritate her skin, her favourite stuffed toys, how she likes to be swaddled in her blankets at night or that her curls make her face itch but they’re practically untameable.”

you start to heave, losing breath with every word and dabi does nothing but watch, keeping an eye on kori to make sure she stays sleeping as he steps towards you. “i know that i love her more than i’ve loved anything in my entire life, despite how much i suffered alone bringing her into this world. and i know that i named her kori after the ice that frosted the windows of my hospital room while i waited for... you.”

touya remains emotionless while you descend into madness, letting you cry it out. “i’ve been watching...”

you want to scream, beat his chest and blame him for how insane you’ve become. “watching isn’t enough touya, she needed you. i-i needed you.” you whimper, falling limp against the door frame as your hands move threateningly towards your hair as if you’re going to rip it out from the root. “...you couldn’t come and visit? not once i-in the eleven months that she’s been alive? not once while she’s been breaking me down and giving—“

“giving you a hard time? i tried, i took care of you from afar...i’m the one who made your boss disappear. the one who put his hands on you.” dabi sneers towards the end of his once gentle words, standing a breaths width away from you. you hate that you crave the same touch from him as he gave to kori, but you’re still so mad at him.

eventually, it all becomes too much and you succumb to the tears that wrack your exhausted body. you sway with each choked wail that tumbles from between your chapped lips and dabi surges forward to catch you after kicking the knife from earlier away, letting you sink into the warmth of his embrace. he feels like home, smells like safety and not a word is uttered as he brings you to the floor and cradles you like he did with his daughter.

dabi doesn’t need to say sorry when he shows you through how close he holds you to his heart.

when you finally calm down, dabi lifts you bridal style to your bathroom and draws you a bath with the salts and lavender extract from the cupboard above the sink. neither of you speak except for when he softly offers to help you undress— to which you decline— and when he tells you he’s going to fix something to eat.

you knew damn well that the villain could not cook, he hadn’t been when he was little since endeavour took away the entirety of his childhood and you’d only taught him the basics when he was still on the run and stopped by your place from time to time. his favourite thing back then had been to watch you cook to the weird music you kept playing, hips swaying to the beat and a sparkle in your eyes— but you didn’t do that anymore, he could tell those days were long gone.

dabi orders in takeout in the end and you have half a mind to curse him out for using your money— but the day’s events have exhausted you beyond your wits end, so you eat with him in silence atop your double bed after dressing in an old shirt of his. “stay the night.” is what you tell him, scared that he’ll leave. he puts his cigarette out on your balcony. the doors usually stayed locked so kori couldn’t crawl out on her own but you opened it for him since dabi liked to smoke and you hated the ash.

he promised to quit back then, and he hadn’t now.

“i’ll stay.” dabi says, throwing the butt over the ledge and stripping his clothes as he follows you to bed. he decides not to mention he wanted to stay anyway. you peel back the covers enough for him to slip in behind you, heated arms wrapping around your waist and settling on your tummy, where he rubs small patterns into your skin. the villain’s chest is  overwhelmingly warm against your back— reminding you of the days where you would spoon and he’d wait with baited breath for kori to kick.

both of you lay together, wide awake in the dark for goodness knows how long. touya’s breath balmy against the nape of your neck and if you focused hard enough, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. he pretends to sleep, refusing to acknowledge that his proximity to you affects him in the worst of ways— evident in how his prominent hard on presses against the swell of your ass.

rolling over, your heart skips a beat at the way your love’s eyes still manage to glow brightly in the dark— ignited by the flames of his quirk and emotions of angst from the past.

they flicker as he looks to you, pale skin illuminated by the silver moon slipping in from your balconies, scars as enticing as ever. tentatively, you reach a hand out to cup his face, not kidding the apprehension that paint his matured features even as you run your fingers down the scars on his jaw. “been a while since we’ve been like this,” is all you can muster up, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek while your free hand snakes between your bodies in an attempt to pleasure the man.

fear strikes you right in the chest, leaving you panting as dabi flips you onto your back quickly, pinning your wrists against the bed. “don’t,” he growls, almost feral in tone and in his eyes. “don’t do something you might regret in the morning.”

you lay still, staring at the man above you in an attempt to read him. doing so had always been hard, but tonight you can see every detail of his life and every part of him.  the fear of being his father and disappointing another group of people, a broken man torn between the people he loved and the life he led— you could finally see him. you wondered if it hurt him to be away from you and his child, if he ever thought of you.

you take a deep breath, fabric of the sheets fuzzy in your ears as you shake your head up at him. “i could never regret being with you,” you sigh, dabi’s gaze lowering. “i just need you...”

your proclamation is all the permission dabi needs before he ascends on your neck, almost whimpering at the taste of your skin against his tongue. you know that he’s avoiding your lips, scared that things may not feel the same if he kisses you there— as if your love might have fizzled out from the months that you’ve been apart. the villain’s mouth is hot against your skin, sharp teeth sinking into the column of your throat— it’s not hard for him to find the spots that make your back arch and body tingle, the dark haired man  would be embarrassed to admit that he had your body mapped out in his brain. you were all that he thought about in the months between then and now.

you miss his lips, but you fear that if you push your love to far he’ll clam up and withdraw from you completely. you can’t lose him while you have him now. in the meantime, your bodies press against one another hotly, burning while dabi paints shades of blue and purple deeper than his eyes against your flesh before lapping at each love bite with an odd tenderness people wouldn’t think he possessed at first glance. as he works, touya loses grip on your wrists, allowing them free roam across the expanse of his back.

your nails leave light tracks across his back, trailing up from his muscled back to the nape of his neck— curling in the white roots of his hair in an attempt to tug him up to your lips. “baby,” the old pet name tumbles from between them before you can catch yourself, laboured from where you’re short of breath. “please kiss me, please..”

with newly mussed hair, dabi is still for a moment before leaving one last mark at where your jaw meets your neck— wet tongue lolling over the fresh bruise while his large palm move back to cup your head. a thumb belonging to a scared hand runs over your bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh down while he watches your face for a reaction. “are you sure that’s what you want, beautiful?” the villain chuckles into the dark of the night, pink muscle running over his own lips to wet them in anticipation. “you want your man to kiss you?”

your senses go into overdrive, desperate for any kind of contact from the man above you— he feels so close and yet, a million miles away, even with his body making its way between your thighs and your chests pressing together eagerly.

“touya—“ you breathe, barely able to finish your sentence before the man himself delves deep into your mouth. his lips move with hesitance at first, sucking on yours slightly and parting for air more often than he should but you grip him by the whites of his hair firmly and tug him further into the kiss. your tongue dances along the seam of his lips, prying them open as you seek permission for entrance— dabi groans lowly as you tug on his roots and force your way into his mouth, tasting him as if it were your last time.

you swallow each of his moans that mingle softly with your own, while your tongues dance together messily— the kiss were and sloppy as if the two of you were out of practice. your worries fly out of the window from there, it’s good to know that neither of you had been with others during your time apart instead you feel like a teenager making out with their highschool crush for the very first time. dabi’s hips rut into the plush bed beneath you both and you can tell that even the slightest touches are riling him up beyond belief— it’d been almost a year since he’d felt you against him in any way and it didn’t help that you were so ready to accept him.

that you still wanted him.

whimpering at the thought, the villain pauses against your lips to catch his breath— panting softly. you can feel him pulling away, questioning if he deserves to be with you after everything he’d put you through. so, cupping dabi’s jaw, you let your free hand slip between your heated bodies and glide your fingertips along the waist band of his sweats.

“yn, i ain’t so sure about this,” dabi sighs, body twitching at the proximity of your hands to his hardness, his eyelids flutter shut and lock away his beautiful blue eyes— holding fear, insecurity and desire. “what if ya’still regret this later on?”

smiling up at him, you thumb at his cheek and work your hand deeper into his pants, past his underwear. “you’ve been away too long baby, i would regret not being with you more,” you coo up at him just as you grasp at his hardened length, watching as dabi shudders in your grip. his cock leaks hotly against your soft palm from going untouched for so long, your fingers explore him— tracing down the thick veins on the underside of his length. “let me make you feel good tonight.”

“fuck, sweetness. talk pretty with that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours.” touya breathes heavily against your mouth, both of yours falling open in hot moans. cheekily, you run a thumb over his tip, circling the slit at the top. dabi collapses on top of you, burying his mop of salt and pepper hair into your neck as he drives his hips into your hand at his own leisurely pace. “y’better live up to those words—shit, don’t go letting me down, princess.” jade orbs finally open, heavy with lust and desire as the air around you tingles with a newfound desire to make each other feel good, settling on the planes of your marked and scratched skin.

your grip around dabi tightens while he fucks into your closed fist, wet sounds filling the room from where he leaks at his bright red tip— almost hot as his hands that dance up your sides and tenderly touch at your hips. so unsure, yet so needy. clear, thick precum guides the movement of your hand as it slides up and down your lover’s girth— he’s much bigger than you remember, swollen with an impending orgasm and dabi stutters when you reach further down his boxers to grip at weighty balls full of his seed, just about ready to burst.

he howls from deep within his chest, the noise only muffled from the drool that glides across his tongue before the villain’s wandering and scarred palms stop at your rib cage, settling just under your breasts. you don’t bother to stop pleasuring him even as his quirk ignites, blue flames burning right through your night shirt to expose your skin to the cool night air.  without even a second thought, dabi’s mouth ascends on your tits, taking one into the hot cavern while his free hand seers marks over the other.

the thought have being branded by your man makes your hips jump and your hand squeeze his cock in your grip— a reminder of what’s to come later on. his strawberry tongue rolls across your hardened nipple and you yelp in surprise with the sudden feeling of cool metal across the exposed flesh. “y-you have your tongue pierced?” you squeal as dabi repeats his actions, loving the way you arch your back into his mouth and your heart rate speeds up.

“never know when a bit of metal’s gonna come in handy, sugar tits.”

you barely have time to formulate a response before your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you, biting and sucking and marking your raw flesh like a man starved of his last meal— you don’t let up either, quickly pumping his cock as he continues to leak, painting your hand with teases of his incoming release. you’re sure that his sweatpants and the sheets below you will be stained with his arousal from how much precum oozes from his dick, slicking up your hands and creating the perfect flashlight but you don’t dare to think of anything else but the way dabi’s face twists with pleasure as he desperately thrusts himself into the softness of your palm.

his cheeks flush red, globs of drool connecting the roof of his mouth to his tongue while his eyes grow fuzzy at each step he takes closer to orgasm, the very drool from his mouth covers each of your breasts as dabi switches between them— creating a layer of wet against your supple skin that shines under the moon. you flick your wrist around him, faster, harder— giving the villain everything you’ve got to make him feel good.

“shit pretty girl, y’gonna make me...cum,” touya shakes in your grip, eyes crossing and tongue becoming lazy against your marked up chest. his salvia pools against your skin while he pants and fucks your wet hand as if it were your pretty little cunt clamping down on him. “fuck, fuck, fuck. don’t you fuckin’ stop, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop...”

he barks out the demands, but there’s a neediness to his tone and whine to his voice that makes you grin with pride, even if you’re barely there from having your nipples stimulated beyond belief. “cum for me touya, please, wanna feel you come undone for me.” you beg him, ever so slightly and it’s just enough to push the villain over the edge, sending him into an earth shattering orgasm. you don’t dare to stop as you jerk him off, guiding down from his high as his cock twitches from release and paints your knuckles with the thick white of his seed. he mewls contendly into your breasts, slowing his hips while the world of colours dance behind his cerulean eyes.

“here with me yet?” you murmur to him, grasping his wild locks to tilt his head up towards your face— dabi looks so blissed out but the smirk on his raw and bitten lips tells you the night is far from over.

pressing a searing kiss to your sternum, your boyfriend’s pierced tongue makes yet another appearance as he trails the muscle down your soft tummy— biting your navel as he goes. “never left gorgeous, but don’t you fucking dare think for a second that this is over, y’got that?” he sits up quickly, grabbing hold of your doughy thighs and using them to pull you down the bed. the pads of his fingers start to burn marks into your skin, dancing along your legs and stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. “gotta stretch this cunt open before i give you my cock, remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”

spreading your thighs nice and wide, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as dabi’s hands finally come into contact with your slit, prodding at your slick folds from over your panties. lowering his face between your open legs, your boyfriend hums in satisfaction as he peels your sticky panties away from your pussy. “why, babydoll, you’re so fucking wet down here. this can’t all be for me, can it?” touya teases you, hot breath fanning against your unused sex while his fingers play with the string of your slick that coats them. “y’must’ve missed your man badly for your lil cunt to look this fucked up, s’pecially when i haven’t even touched’ya yet.”

you shiver and nod weakly, willing to say or do anything to feel more of your boyfriend against you. “s’all for you dabi, o-only you could get me this wet, n-no one else could take your place...” you mewl, hips bucking into the air while the man himself watches you grow needier and needier, hormones expelled into the air. dabi grins, leaning into your core once more to press his nose into your wetness, sniffing your spiked panties like the dirty man he is— only to then lay his pierced tongue flat against your folds, tracing your hole with the muscle while his nose bumps at your clothed clit.

“saved this all for me, huh? you’re so loyal, sweetness. waiting for me all this time…” he kitten licks at your cunt until you’re writhing amongst the already solid sheets, forcing his spit into your hole from over the thin fabric of your panties, creating a more prominent outline of your puffy lower lips as your thighs quieter around his head. they threaten to close as he works on you through your underwear— teasing and prodding at your sex to see if you respond the same way to his touches as you used to.

you force your shaking through his black and white locks, grabbing hold of his roots in an attempt to pull dabi back to your heat when he lifts his head from between your thighs— pushing your lips into a pout. “no, no no, baby, please— need you to eat my cunt, want your mouth on me, please!” you cry out, but you’re quickly pacified by his scarred hand which cups your pussy— seat of his hand grinding into your clit.

“god, if i had known you were still this eager to fuck me i woulda come home a long time ago, babydoll.” he chuckles, licking up your inner thigh and biting down on the plush flesh. “need’ta get rid of these though, they’re getting in my way.” the villain gestures to your panties, making you watch as his quirk burns it’s way through the silky material until it’s nothing but ash against your sheets. you gasp as soon as your cute little pussy is exposed to the cool air, missing the warmth of touya’s pink tongue against it. “better.” he sneers, eyes bright and glowing in the dark with a new sense of feral desire.

thick digits press into your tight hole at the same time touya takes to sucking on your swollen clit, forcing their way up your velvet walls in search for your pleasure spot. dabi chuckles against your sticky folds as you begin to whine, hips rolling up into your lover’s face while his tongue draws rough patterns onto your bud. you’ve missed him, missed this. the nights where the villain dabi would sneak into your home, becoming your touya todoroki between the four walls that you shared— where you would spend nights seeing stars by his hand or his cock and he would make you his over and over again. the memories have you clamping down on his digits like there’s no tomorrow, greedily sucking them in as he strokes at the walls of your sex and makes your whole body shake.

touya works hard at pleasuring you, apologising for his absence through slurping the juices from your folds only for you to gush and paint his scarred chin with more of your nectar. the way you taste makes him dizzy, he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs and never miss the outside world like he did before tonight. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good too and it’s not enough to feel the ecstasy roll off of your heavenly body in waves— he wants all of you, mind, body and soul to belong to him.

you can barely breathe, leaking with every swipe of his tongue against you and every twist of his fingers inside of you. you can feel everything at once, the euphoria crackling across your brain, high on the way touya makes you feel. “god, t-touya, don’ stop...feel so fucking good…” you heave in a drawn out moan, barely able to tell what’s up and what’s down as the villain pulls his fingers from your slick hole and replaces them with his tongue ( only after they’ve pushed down on your g-spot over and over again ).

“you’re not the one giving orders, sweet stuff, oh no.” dabi reminds you sloppily, looking like a child with no table manners as your nectar smears across his face. for his own satisfaction, he delivers a harsh smack to your pussy, watching as your entire body jolts and jumps up the bed. “your cunt is mine and i’ll do what i want with it, show you how much i missed it.”

his possessive words almost set you off, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every pinch of your nub and every swirl on his tongue inside your walls, committing every ridge to memory. your body burns and you’re not sure if it’s from dabi pressing against you so hotly or because of the desire that fuels the fire inside you.

“yours, yours, yours!” you chant like a mantra, high pitched and whiny— your voice mixing with the crude sounds of your own pathetic cunt, that grows louder when dabi spits on your clit to add to your wetness. he lets it drip between your folds, fingers to busy with stimulating you to catch it before it slides between your lower cheeks, opting to use his tongue on you instead.

“ya’like that don’t you? missed your whinin’ pretty girl, fuck, even missed making you a fucking mess.” you keen into his touch, babbling incoherent praises to the man between your legs as he spreads you wider by the ass with one hand and forces his fingers back into your cunt with the other. his fingers curl into a come hither motion, repeatedly pressing down on your spongy spot as he sloppily makes out with your puffy nub— taking only one, two, three strokes to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull and your orgasm to wash over you.

your body convulses, shaking as you’re hit hard by your release— juices gushing all over your lover’s face even as he refuses to let up. “t-touya no...no no...can-can’t,” you whinge, tears clumping in your lashes. dabi spreads your lips again, using three digits instead of two to continue stimulating your clit until another release builds up inside your lower belly— clear liquid gushing out of your abused pussy and staining the sheets below.

he hums proudly, pressing a lasting kiss to your fluttering hole before reaching up to your lips to do the same, barely allowing you the time to catch your breath— chest heaving while you come down from your high. “so pretty when you squirt for me like that, sweetness,” dabi moans into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him. but as soon as he comes, he’s gone— rolling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips so your ass sits in the air for him. “gonna take my cock now, kay?”

“kay,” you mumble into the sheets, brain too  fuzzy to resist as the villain manhandles you the way he wants.

after shoving down his sweatpants, the eldest todoroki grips the peachy soft flesh of your ass— smacking it a few times with his heat activated palms to watch the flesh jiggle and his handprint sink into the skin. you lean back, watching over your shoulder as his cock stands at full attention, hard from seeing you come undone on his fingers and tongue. it burns bright red at the tip, another fat glob of precum making it shine and making you dribble with anticipation. “y’such a fuckin’ slut, my beautiful slut… hungry for my cock even after i’ve wrecked your lil pussy so bad,” dabi says with a cocky lilt to his voice, the very tone making your hole clench around nothing. he taps his sticky cockhead against your slit, running it up and down your cunt three or four times— groaning as it slides between your cheeks. the sensation causes your back to arch as you wail, fingers gripping the bed covers so tight that you almost cause them to tear. “don’t you worry baby, ‘m gonna make up for lost time, you don’t have to miss me anymore.”

there’s a double meaning to his words that you don’t ask him to elaborate on, too caught up in the way he teases your hole as he dips his length in— only to pull it right back out. “don’t tease, need you badly,” you plead, earning yourself another harsh spank to your raw ass cheeks.

“shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” the words are harsh against his tongue, but dabi utters them softly as he relents to his wishes. his cerulean gaze flutters down to where your bodies begin to join, his large hand gripping his length before he starts to push into your dribbling entrance. “god, you’re s’fuckin’ tight, you might as well be a virgin.” pussy spasming at his words, you leak against touya’s cock, creating a lewd squelching sound as he pushes more of himself into you. the weight of dabi’s thick girth causes painful, yet delicious burn which he eases by rubbing soothing circles into your clit once more. “been s’long, i outta fuck you open again, huh?”

“uhuh, take me again touya. make me yours, all over again.” you slur over the spit drowning your tongue, eyes fluttering shut when the villain’s hips surge forward his dick brushes against your cervix. his rough, calloused palm grabs your neck from behind, forcing you down into the sheets while he bottoms out inside of you and pushes the last of his cock past your entrance. the two of you groan in unison, touya sitting heavy inside of your walls before you muster up the energy to say. “move.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice, whilst dabi was enjoying the feeling of being engulfed by your soft, warm insides— cock twitching in relief from time to time— he finds it within him to pull back from your selfish cunt to thrust into you with all his might. the force pulls a broken squeal from between your bitten and bruised lips, your hips pushing back against dabi to keep him inside of you. the pair of you move in sync, bodies dancing in a sensual grind between lovers that moulds your cunt into the shape of your boyfriend once more. “oh fuck yeah baby, oooh, missed your cunny s’bad…” dabi yowls loudly, listening for the squashy sounds of your sexes moving against one another. “christ, you like when i talk about your pathetic little pussy like this?”

you bite down on your lower lip, embarrassed by your own bleats of pleasure when he degrades you like this. annoyed by your lack of answer, touya grabs onto your hips and pulls you off of his cock, only to slam them back into you seconds later. his pace is unforgiving and relentless from there, forcing your body up the bed with every thrust into your core. “yes! like it, love it, missed your cock so bad touya!” you cry, holding onto the sheets for dear life as his dick drags along your pleasure spots and his hands burn marks into your ass and hips.

weakly, you attempt to match his thrusts. circling the meat of your ass back onto dabi and squeezing around the head of his girth every time it plunges into your sopping pussy. your arousals mix as he pounds away at your hole, a thick string hanging between your bodies and dribbling down your inner thighs, tainting innocent skin. the wet noise reverberates across the room, creating a passionate symphony with dabi’s deep, pitiful moans.

even though it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate like this, dabi still knew all the ways to get your body going. he took you from behind but still let his marred hands wonder and explore the planes of your skin, pinching here and there, marking your body as his to use and his alone. there’s love hidden beneath his rough touches, little signs that he missed having you so close to him— having you split open on his cock while you dripped on his pelvis and ruined your bedsheets, was his own way of unleashing his pent up emotions of love, anger and despair onto you and you wanted it. you wanted his good and his bad while he fucked you like his life depended on it, balls deep inside the pussy of the woman he loved was where he was most vulnerable with you.

“s-shit, sweetness, you’re such a pretty mess, so fucked up on my cock, can feel you clamping around me like my greedy bitch should.” you’re stuffed so full, clenching every time touya drives his cock deeper into your gummy cunt, head prodding at the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. he’s losing his mind at how you choke out his iron hot girth, clear liquid seeping down your thighs at every thrust. “you’re my beautiful brain dead baby, letting me fuck you like this, yeah? missed you baby, missed this,” despite his words, touya is no better than you, mind hazy with thoughts of you creaming around him because of how good he’s made you feel. him, and no one else. you saved yourself for him after all these months, the least he could do was bring you to cloud nine.

he does so by angling his thrusts up to meet your pleasure spot every time, howling your name in the way he knows you like just to feel your hot cunny spew more of your juices out against his tummy. “missed you, thought about this for months,” you lament, elbows that kept you up finally giving out as your body tiredly collapses into the sheets— dabi’s balls still clapping against your ass. he follows you down into bed covers, chest pressing hotly against your back as the jackhammers into you from behind. “thought about your fat cock in my tight pussy, t-touched myself to you...made being alone worth it, made waiting for you to come home worth it. ‘cause i get to see your beautiful face when you fuck me…” you barely register what you’re saying, babbling incorrectly while the temperature of your body rises with your level of arousal.

behind you, touya’s cheeks burn with a new feeling. deep down, all he wanted was to be validated as a lover to you, he’d always been deemed as the bad guy incapable of feeling anything for anyone other than himself. but you, you had proved him wrong so many times and he still found your words hard to believe. yet, it felt good to know how much you loved him. snaking a hand down to your face, the villain squishes your cheeks together and brings you up to his own face despite the arch to your back— he keeps up his sinful pace, your lower cheeks bouncing with every push and pull of his length while he drips a globule of his saliva into your pouting mouth. “shut up,” he grunts harshly, although love is written across his cobalt eyes.

you smile up at him dopily, keeping eye contact with him as you swallow gratefully. “anything for you,” his hands slip from your squashed cheeks to your throat, cupping it as he holds you against him. more arousal pools in your lower stomach, turned on by the thrill of him being able to end your life right then and there, all it would take would be one flame but you know more than anything that dabi loves you and would never hurt you. “i love you, touya todoroki. i a-always will.”

your admission makes dabi’s heart stop in his chest, heated pants tickling your ear as he continues to take you and claim your body as his. with newfound vigor, he links his free hand with yours that lays against the bed and rams his cock into your core as hard and as fast as he can, determined to make you cum. “i—oh fuck, i love you too, sweetness…” the arsonist can feel the way your cunt flutters around his girth at his confession, tears building up in your eyes once more. god, you were so pretty like this, arched for him perfectly in the moon, stars illuminating every curve and dip on your body— showing off the stretch marks from where you’d carried his child. everything about you turned him on in the best possible ways and everything about you that turned him on, also turned out to be everything he loved about you.

your stupid big heart, your stupid big eyes when you say that you love him, your stupid smile when he used to kiss you and hold you and even now when he fucked you. touya todoroki was in love and in the worst possible way but he couldn’t say he regretted a single moment of it, not when you stayed true to him after all these months of being apart. you raised his child and you loved him all the same and a part of him is grateful that you never turned your back on him like everyone else he’s ever loved.

so the least he could do is make love to you, push his creamy cock into the depth of your core while kissing down your spine to watch you shudder oh so cutely. it’s messy and sloppy and the pair of you should feel nasty for the stench of sex in the air, lingering against your skin. but you don’t, how could you? not when love and adoration tingles in the air as well, it’s messy because of the unadulterated emotions you feel for one another— deep in vulnerability is where dabi grinds his cock slowly into you, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name into the night. makes him mumble incoherent praises against your bruised neck and squished cheeks as he lewdly licks a stripe up the column of your neck to behind your ear.

you gush around him and he grunts with ecstasy into your ear, tightening that knot in your stomach as you both step closer to your highs. “you like the way i fill this cunt up, huh? yeah? when i hold you like this, when i fuck you like this?” dabi mutters to you lewdly, holding onto his sanity by a thin thread as his own release sneaks up on him. “tell me you like it...fuck sweetness, please.”

“i love the way you fuck me touya, fuck! only you can make me feel this good,” you moan to appease him, bouncing back against his cock while his hips begin to stutter and your eyes begin to cross. it’s true, you love belonging to him, being able to bring him such pleasure and you know he feels the same way. the villain prods at your g-spot over and over again, stealing your breath away as he pulls you up and into your chest, changing the angle of his hips to bring you to the last hurdle. “baby—ohmygod—-touya! ‘m sososo close, don’t stop...don’t stop, gonna cum, give it to me, give it to me please!” you chant, eyes fluttering shut as you lean your head back against his shoulder and search for his hand, voice rising with every octave as you get closer and closer.

“fucking cum for me sweet girl, shit, cum all over this fucking cock.” dabi manages through gritted teeth, grasping your hand while the pace of his thrusts grow inconsistent.

that’s all that you need to hear before the damn breaks and arousal floods through your entire body courses through your veins. white dances behind your eyes in flashes as your release flushes out of your pussy and drips between touya’s balls, coating them in a layer your honeyed slick. you slump against your boyfriend, not able to mutter a word as you convulse in a silent scream and squeeze both his hand and cock alike.

gently, he pushes you down to the bed and pulls his cock from your intoxicating heat— his free hand clasps around his cock, palming himself towards a swift release. “yeah, oh fuck yeah, fuckin’ love you baby,” he cums on your back and your ass, thick, potent and milky seed landing on your flushed skin before he collapses beside you and exhaustion settles in his bones.

you black out for a few minutes after, fingers still intertwined but dabi manages to slip out long enough to retrieve a washcloth that's damp and warm to clean you both up with. you wake up just as he crawls back into bed with you, kissing your hairline while he makes himself comfortable. “almost thought i’d killed you for a second,” the villain jokes, slinging a loose arm over your bare waist and pulling you to lay on his chest.

“you couldn’t, even if you tried.” you counter sleepily, drawing star shapes on your boyfriend’s naked stomach. a comfortable silence sweeps over the room, despite the thoughts that linger on your mind. looking up at dabi, you notice him drifting off but still can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “why didn’t you ever come back?”

you feel dabi’s chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, fingers coming up to scratch at your scalp— something that used to help you to sleep when you were together before. “i was figuring out a way to get out of the league, to be with you and kori.” he says after some time, catching your eye as you give him a confused look. “shigaraki doesn’t know about her, i never told him. but i knew from the moment we found out about her, i didn’t want her to be a part of the life i’m involved in and knowing how the league works, they’d find a way to make use of her.”

you stay quiet, not knowing what to do with the new information and dabi’s reasoning for staying away for so long. on one hand you were grateful to him for keeping your daughter quiet and safe but part of you still wished he’d given you a sign to let you know it’d all be okay. grabbing your chin, he forces you to look up at him—passionate flames burning in his eyes. “i need you to trust me on this one sweetness, i promise nothin�� will happen to you nor kori. so long as i’m around.”

“pinky promise?” you ask him sweetly, feeling the truth to his words.

you hold up your pinky to the villain’s face, smiling through exhaustion as he rolls his eyes down at you. “pinky promise, babydoll. now get some shut eye, kay?” touya links your pinky with his, scoffing when you make him kiss them.

“g’night, touya.”

“sleep well, babydoll.”

the bed is cold when you wake up the next morning.

the panic sets in quickly, speeding up with the chirping of birds from your balcony outside. you shouldn’t be tearing up over the childishness of a pinky promise. he always made you promises but never actually kept the and as quickly as dabi had waltzed back into your life, he had left you alone and in the cold once more.

gathering yourself together, you stumble out of your bed— avoiding any mirrors that may show the cascade of marks dabi had left against your skin from the previous night. you feel embarrassed and ashamed that you let him back into your life so easily, especially now that you had kori to think about. tears start to well in your tired and puffy eyes as you head to the kitchen, thinking that a mug of coffee will calm you down before you prep your daughter for the day.

but as you wander out of your room, the familiar sound of your baby girl’s laugher drifts through the air— seemingly coming from the kitchen.  the sweet melody calls out to you and suddenly your casual stride to the kitchen becomes a brisk walk so you can reach her faster. “kori? baby? did you climb out of your crib again—?” you call out to her, stopping in your tracks when you round the corner.

dabi stands in the middle of your kitchen, still shirtless, with kori balanced on his hip— in one hand he holds a small blue flame, which you’re sure he believes is safe enough for kori to play with while the other steadies your baby girl while she claps and squeals. a first. you’re not too sure when the last time you’d seen her happy was, but you figure her father’s presence had something to do with it.

“i was going to make you breakfast, but the little shit woke up and i didn’t have enough free hands to make you a grilled cheese.” touya smirks over at you, diminishing his flame to grasp kori’s hand and use it to wave at you. she squeals happily, curls bouncing and eyes lighting up in a similar way to her father’s. your heart melts at the sight of them being together, seeing the mannerisms that they share and how joyous they seem. they both grinned the same way, shared the little twitch in their noses and even their sneezes. kori todoroki was an exact replica of touya todoroki, right down to the tiny red curl she had lost in her white locks.

“you know, i thought you’d left,” you make your way across to the island where dabi sets his daughter down and check her temperature— just in case her sudden change in mood is down to any sickness. “the bed was cold when i woke up.”

“didn’t i make you a promise last night, sweetness? i’m not going anywhere,” the arsonist reminds you, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you wipe at kori’s pudgy baby cheeks and give her the once over again. “if you’re checking the kid’s temperature, she's usually pretty cold because of my mom’s quirk. something ice related will be coming through, but she must’ve inherited your strong constitution. guess she has a normal body temp when i’m around ‘cause it balances her out.” while dabi explains the inner workings of kori’s incoming quirk, she claps and babbles excitedly from her place on the island— making a game out of throwing her toys off of it. all of dabi’s logic makes sense and you seem a little more relieved knowing how to take care of her from here.

picking her up, along with her stray toys, you set your baby down by her playmat again and switch on some baby-safe cartoons while you fix yourself and dabi some coffee, kissing all over kori’s face beforehand. he had whined when you pulled away the first time to give your daughter some attention, it was almost comical how the big bad villain had pouted then. “i wonder if there’s anything of mine she inherited or if it’s all you and todoroki genetics.”

“well, her pretty smile certainly didn’t come from me, babydoll.” dabi muses with a light chuckle, arms trapping you against his chest once more as you continue to make you both some much needed caffeine. the coffee machine whirrs as you sway together in the early morning sunshine, warmth from the sun brushing against your skin and touya’s hair tickling your neck before he presses kisses over your fading love bites while kori’s annoying shows play in the background. everything feels complete and at peace. you feel like a real family. “i could get used to this, this life with you.”

you spin in dabi’s arms, cupping his cheeks and taking in his face for the millionth time in the last twelve hours. “then stay, or at least visit some more now that you’re back. you may not feel it, but kori and i need you. everything has always been better when you’ve been around touya… and i mean that. stay.” you stare at him with pleading eyes, standing on your tiptoes to stare him down and communicate just how much you needed him here with you both.

and for once in his life, touya todoroki feels the most loved he’s ever really felt. here in this shitty two bedroom apartment with his angelic little girl and his beautiful girlfriend during the winter season— touya knows this is right where he needs to be. “i’ll stay, for as long as you’ll fuckin’ have me.”

“forever, then?” you ask, eyes lowering to your boyfriend’s lips.

“forever it is, babydoll.” the villain nods, following your gaze before leaning down to capture your lips with a promise written into your sweet kiss.

extended ending

you thought that the best kind of weather was when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds but the air around you was still as cold as a december’s day. the breeze is enough to make your nose run just a little, but occasionally the warmth of the sun’s rays radiates across your skin like a warm blanket, balancing it out.

it was the kind of weather where people didn’t know how to dress, some wore mismatched shorts and jerseys whilst others were decked out in scarves up to their cheeks and sandals where their toes flopped out. it was the kind of weather that reminded you of dabi and kori, they were your warmth and your cold, they balanced each other out and made your family whole.

kori sits on your right hip as you push the car door closed and wave goodbye to an accomplice of your boyfriend’s— your driver for the evening. your little girl’s curls are combed back into two even pigtails, dark blue bows in each one while the red lock of her hair ( now, much longer ) curls against her forehead stubbornly. she looks so pretty, all fancied up a dress that dabi had chosen for her on this particular occasion, the lace irritated her only slightly but the decapitated endeavour plushie her father had gifted her served nicely as a distraction.

you bounce her once, cooing down at your baby before you look to the hospital in front of you— a look of determination in your eye. ever since the night touya had visited you and swore to stay, he’d kept his word to the best of his abilities. being a villain was still a major factor in your relationship, he came when he could stayed if his job permitted it— taking care of your daughter when your shifts were long and even going as far as to learn his and kori’s favourite recipes to cook on the nights where you couldn’t or you didn’t fancy take out.

in the last few weeks his visits had become slightly more scarce with shigaraki becoming more and more demanding, but touya’s plan to leave the league was slowly coming to fruition along with endeavour and the hero society which had both carved a life of struggle for the three of you.

your boyfriend being busy had given you more time to reconnect with the friends you had lost over the last year, meeting up with those from college, mina and tsuyu ( who’d simply thought you’d gone off the radar ) for kori’s first birthday. they absolutely loved her and your sweet girl loved all the attention she was getting. you even had the chance to reunite with your parents, who were more remorseful that you felt you couldn’t come to them for help than the fact that you’d gotten pregnant during college.

of course, they all asked who the father was and you simply told them that he had died ( which was half true ), using the excuse that you were embarrassed to be widowed and with a child at your young age.

shaking your head, you enter the hospital and recite the words that touya had made you practice the night before. you were here by endeavours orders and needed to see mrs.todoroki. your lover had used some sort of hack to put you on the list of visitors for his mother but one look at kori was all the guards and staff needed to let you through. a few nights prior to today, dabi had asked you to do one thing for him before it all went down, kissing your knuckles over some sushi take out.

so despite your nerves, you would go through with this for him, especially if it meant your family could be together. some guards escort yourself and kori to rei todoroki’s room, leaving you with a curt nod and slightly more polite wave to your daughter. the room itself is slightly bleak, a chair and some blue cushioned sofas positioned in an L-shape parallel to the blanketed bed. there’s a tv in the top left corner which and a set of draws underneath where a clear vase sits— containing blooming blue flowers.

rei looks up when you enter, grey eyes flashing with confusion despite the blank look on her face as kori babbles happily in your arms. “who are you?” she whispers, hands retreating from her flowers and  folding neatly in her lap.

“oh! i’m yn, your son’s fiancé and this,” you beam kindly, further entering the room and being sure to lock the doors behind you. you nod your head down to your daughter who waves around her endeavour plushy— paying no mind to the situation unfolding. “this is our daughter, your granddaughter...kori todoroki! she’s just turned one and daddy thought it was about time she met you, isn’t that right pretty girl?”

“dada!!!”

rei blinks and you smile again. “she’s a daddy’s girl,” you explain and lift your hand to snow the small sapphire engagement ring on your ring finger. touya had proposed last night as well, certain your plan would work out. “and quite frankly, so am i! how can i not be when your son treats me so well.”

nodding slowly, the wife of endeavour looks down at her hands which you note, nervously fiddle with a stray petal. “so, natsu and you—?” you can see her trying to work it out, curiosity written across her features. you could see why the woman might think kori was natuso’s child— they looked a lot like each other just by first glance but rei was missing an important feature. the colour of kori’s eyes.

“oh no, your other son. the eldest one.” you correct her with a sinister shake of your head. swiftly crossing the room to set your daughter down in rei’s lap. you watch with an evil air of satisfaction as rei todoroki freezes with fear, as the mistakes her family paid out to touya suddenly come to the forefront of her mind. she wobbles with kori still in her grip and you shoot her a dark glare— reaching over to fix her flowers in their vase. “touya picked these out, always said that you loved them. such a pretty shade of blue, no wonder why they’re your favourites, right?”

“please leave.” she looks up at you pleadingly, shaking like a leaf in the breeze outside. oh how you wish your fiancé was here to see this but he had more important things to do.

rolling your eyes, you grab the remote to switch on the tv— pinching kori’s nose affectionately to make her laugh again. “come sit with me rei, let’s watch some tv to help you calm down.”

the woman nods weakly, barely moving an inch as you take a seat beside her with a smile. you skip channels a few times, pride swelling up in your chest when you finally land on the right one, touya’s broadcast flashing across the screen. he sits leisurely in a chair, shirtless with all of his beautiful scars on display— a painful reminder of his childhood and what he’d become. “i, touya  todoroki, was born as the eldest son of endeavour. today i’ve killed over 30 innocent people until now, some to protect my family. my daughter, who i have not been able to see due to my father. i would like to let everyone know why i’d end up committing such a hideous act.” he speaks such calmness and clarity, and you can’t help but feel emotional at how he stands in front of the world.

kori grins, leaping up at the sight of her father on the screen and claps her hands. “dada!! dada!! lookie s’daddy!!” she squeals while rei struggles to breathe, panic set in her eyes.

you put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, offering her a sweet grin in an attempt to calm her before the oncoming storm. “keep watching, mrs.todoroki, touya said we’d be one big, happy family after this.” the words are sugar coated and sickly sweet, carrying the dark meaning across to your fiancé’s mother.

looking away, your heart swells while touya tears down the hero society and spills the truth for all of japan to see. you were grateful to the man he’d become— loyal to you, to your daughter and the dreams that you had. the satisfaction of seeing the real villains of the world fall was much greater than any hush money enji todoroki could ever offer.

fin.

— TAGLIST:

@husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @grace-todoroki @toshiuwu  @whet-ones-write​

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟒𝐊 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE 🐚🌊✨ Lightkeeper!Harry is here and I’m BEYOND excited to show you lot this concept I’ve been thinking about quite literally everyday for MONTHS now! I love this story with my entire heart, and I really hope it resonates with some of you and that you fall completely in love with lightkeeper!harry and ST like I have 🥺 Love you! Enjoy! x

Thursday, 11 June

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give it back to her in some other form. However, that didn’t mean that when something dreadful did happen it wouldn’t affect her, and she wouldn’t feel hopeless. Because she did. Very much so.

Most of her life she had lived in a constant state of harmony. She was neither displeased nor satisfied with the life she was leading because it kept her out of trouble; it kept her safe. Her entire life she had lived in peace in Winchester, a fairly prissy town in the middle of Hampshire county in England. Her father owned a business of sorts, Y/N had never gotten the details of it or how he’d gotten where he was, but all she knew was he inherited it from his father and it was expected to be handed down generation after generation in the McKay family. However, Y/N was an only child and neither her mum nor her dad thought she’d be fit to run the business when the time came.

“Nothing personal, darling,” her mother had said when it was brought up during a dinner when Y/N was still in sixth form. “You just don’t have the brains for it.”

“What your mother means to say,” Y/N’s father went on. “You’re so intelligent in your own way, running the business won’t make you happy.”

They always called it that. The business. They never told her what it was about or explained when she asked questions about it. Not that she expected her dad to be a drug lord, but it would’ve been nice to be let in on something. It would’ve been nice to be given the opportunity to feel of enough importance to someone to know special things.

Y/N looked out the window of the train, the Cornish coast stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sun not yet hanging high enough on the sky to make it dreadful to walk outside in her black oversized smock dress. The book in her lap was still open, though she’d read the same page over and over and over again, not being able to concentrate for long enough to remember what happened at the top of the piece of paper. Everything was fuzzy and she had too much to think about; too much to consider.

The last 24 hours had been the worst of her life. Yesterday had turned everything upside down and she hated it. However, thinking the universe would balance itself out and work in her favour, she was also aware that the reason her life needed help to be smoothed out by higher powers in the first place, was because it was in imbalance. Something was off. Something had thrown it off. But she forced herself to stay hopeful, knowing that if she lost that little flicker of hope in what seemed like an endless night, it’d be next to impossible to find her way back to peacefulness.

She glanced down at the book in her lap and was about to start reading again, not liking it when she had to put the book away in the middle of a chapter. She wasn’t given the opportunity as the overhead speakers sounded their soft alarm, and next second, a woman was speaking.

“Next stop is St Ives. Doors will open on the right-hand side.”

The nerves Y/N had felt in the pit of her stomach came back again, this time with more intensity than the last few. Though she realised what she was doing that morning when she boarded her train for Reading, and then again when she stepped on the train for St Erth, and yet again when she sat down on the train towards St Ives, this time it felt worse than all those times before. This was it. She was here.

She had no idea why she chose St Ives out of all places in Cornwall – in the world even –, why here of all places? Even years later, she could never seem to remember the exact moment when she chose that coastal town, or why it had appealed to her at all. Maybe it was the fact that it had a beach, or that it wasn’t particularly populated, or that there was no way anyone she had ever known would be there. The most important part however, and maybe the only reason why she chose St Ives, was because it was far away from Winchester. It was far away from her family, from her ex, and everything she associated with that town and everyone living in it.

She put The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall away in her purse, slinging her purse over her head to rest across her chest before she reached up and took her old leather bag down from the overhead compartment.  This was the only one she would risk bringing as it used to be her father’s back in the day, but he never used it anymore and wouldn’t suspect it being gone. Placing the strap on her shoulder, she walked off to the closest door, apologising when she jabbed someone with her bag on the way out.

Stepping off, Y/N instantly regretted wearing a long-sleeved dress. Though she was under the protection of the roof above the platform, the heat was still almost insufferable. It got her wondering if this was just a normal day in the very South of England or if it was an exceptionally hot one. She prayed for the latter.

She walked out of the station, staying in the cool shade for a few minutes longer as she typed in the address of the inn she was staying at. Not really knowing how public transit worked here yet, she didn’t want to risk taking the wrong bus or asking a tourist for directions to a place they’d never heard of. Instead, she put her EarPods in and went on her merry way. The second she stepped out into the sun, she was once again reminded of why she’d never wear that black dress again that summer.

The Roaming Crab Inn was on The Terrace, the road along the coast of St Ives, holding dozens of hotels and other places to stay during a visit. Y/N didn’t know why she’d chosen this exact inn, or how she’d even happened upon it. It might’ve had something to do with the picture of the old lady grinning from ear to ear on the inn’s website. A picture that was so lovely and so warm that, in the midst of everything Y/N was going through right then, it made her tear up.

She stepped into the inn, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head, and made sure her hair looked alright before walking a bit further inside. Cherry wooden panels lined the floors, walls, and ceiling, a reception desk in the same style attached to the wall to the right. Pictures of all kinds of people hung on the walls. Y/N suspected it might be locals as well as dear guests who had come and gone over the years. No lights were on as the sharp afternoon sun was sufficient in keeping the lobby just bright enough o that electricity wasn’t needed. Fake green vines hung along the ceiling and walls, as well as from different pots on the fireplace to the right that didn’t seem to be in use. Still, two old recliners stood beside it, tempting to sit down and drown in, to escape a turbulent life.

To the left was a staircase leading up to the other landings, and though Y/N hadn’t stepped foot on it yet, she already knew it creaked. This entire house seemed more like a cottage you’d find in the middle of the country, not on the coast of South England. She slowly started making her way over to the reception, and that was when she noticed the back door. Behind the desk was an old, white windowed door, a little smaller in height but a little wider in breadth than normal doors – like the entrance. It was open, leading the way out into a back garden that seemed to be both small and surrounded by the neighbouring houses on all sides. The wooden fence was covered in vines, flowers of all kinds poking out amongst them and on the ground around. The stone paved patio seemed to be old and uneven, there was a set of bistro metal chairs in all the colours of the rainbow along with a white table to match them.

A gang of old ladies sat around the table, chattering amongst themselves and occasionally laughing, all holding a different knitting project each. Y/N hated the thought of disturbing them, but she also just wanted to check in and go up to her room; maybe even go for a walk to take a look around the place she’d be in for the next few weeks.

She reached for the bell, hitting it lightly as to not make it sound urgent and intrusive. A small yelp was heard from the back garden and then the sound of the metal chair scraping against the stone patio. As she heard the footsteps get closer, Y/N glanced around, taking in the interior of the inn undisturbed one more. As someone appeared in the doorway and their eyes met, the old lady who stood there gave Y/N that warm smile of hers she’d seen online the night before.

“Hello, dear!” she chirped, placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose and walking over to the computer on her side of the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. And yourself?”

The old lady smiled, her eyes almost disappearing behind her high cheekbones. Her long white hair was fastened in a bun at the back of her head, the rest of her dressed in a pair of white trousers and a tunic with some bird print on it.

“I’m wonderful. What’s your name then, lovely?”

“Y/N McKay.”

“Ahh,” she said. “You’re the one who booked your stay last night.”

“That’s me, yeah,” Y/N chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Till August 10th.”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Y/N,” the lady said, taking a key hanging from the wall beside her and taking her glasses off, smiling the entire time. “Let me show you to your room.”

The two walked up to the second floor, taking a right as they arrived and the inn-keeper unlocked the door. The innkeeper kept the door open for Y/N, letting her walk in first. Though the floor and ceiling were similar to the wooden panels of the lobby, the walls were white. Against the same wall that the door came to rest against stood an old blue dresser, and a fake flower in an elegant vase that seemed to be just one of the many flowers in the room. The double bed stood to the far left wall, white sheets covering it and looking so lush that it took everything in Y/N not to sprint over and throw herself onto it. There was a desk as well as a recliner, and a window on the opposite wall overlooking the ocean that was just about a minute’s walk from here.

“The bathroom is over there,” the innkeeper said, pointing at a door beside the staircase. “You share it with the other guests on the same floor as you, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Y/N admitted, genuinely meaning it as well. She didn’t see the problem with that in the least.

“I’m mostly downstairs or in the next house over, which is mine,” she continued. “So if there’s ever anything you think I could help you with, do pop by.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Y/N. “I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Bessie.” Bessie smiled at Y/N again, making the latter almost want to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “And I really hope you enjoy your stay here in St Ives.”

With that, the innkeeper left Y/N to herself. Y/N let her bag and purse fall to the floor before she dragged the chair by the desk over to the window. She opened it and just stared out across the beach and sea outside. Seagulls were howling overhead, waves were crashing against shore, and the familiar salty scent of the presence of the ocean lingered in the air constantly. It was like one of those trips she’d taken with her parents every summer, a new place every year, always by the coast. Her favourite might’ve been their vacation in Bali. It was gorgeous beyond comprehension, in a way no other place she’d ever been could come close to. But she was aware she’d never go on another trip with her parents again. Not after everything that happened the night before.

Now she couldn’t rely on them any longer. She was on her own. She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what lay ahead of her. As she at on the chair looking out over St Ives, the town she’d spend her summer in, she realised she’d never felt more forlorn.

St Ives is a coastal town located in the very south-west of the southernmost county in England, Cornwall. It is known for its surf beaches – most well-known being Porthmeor – and its many art galleries and restaurants. Tate St Ives is a gallery at the seafront and has rotating modern art exhibitions, focusing primarily on British artists. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden is located in the modernist artist’s former studio, displaying her bronzes and other works.Y/N, having grown up in a fairly posh family with exquisite and particular taste, knew a thing or two about art. 

She always had her purse on her, and in it she’d keep all the essentials for going out and about. Hand sanitiser, Kleenex, band-aids, pads, keys, a portable charger, and the book she was currently reading. The Well of Loneliness lay in her purse as she strolled around, a St Ives guide book in her hand that she’d bought at one of the local stores on what must’ve been their high street.

First and foremost, she wanted to do some sightseeing. She’d be here for a long time, so she might as well get acquainted with the town she’d stay in and learn its ins and outs. There is this part of St Ives called The Island, that isn’t at all an island, but it is just called that. The Island is the imposing headland that juts out into the seat from the spit of land that separates the harbour and Porthmeor beach – the most popular and most central beach in the town. In ancient times it was a promontory fort, but these days it’s probably better known as a location of the tiny chapel of St Nicholas. Walking to The Island, Y/N took in the incredible views of the ocean surrounding her, and the beach – The Townas - beside her that was cramped between The Island and Godrevy Point on the other side.

To her left was what looked to be Hellesveor Cliff, and at the very point of it, on the top of what must’ve been the most haunting cliff Y/N had ever seen, stood a lighthouse. Looking in her guide book, it didn’t say much about the lighthouse except the care of it had been passed down generation after generation by the family currently living there. It was at the very edge of St Ives, farther out than Godrevy Point. It made it so Porthmeor, St Ives, and The Townas were all guarded by these two points, the St Ives Lighthouse watching over its town and the far coast around.

Continuing on her walk, she strolled down the Down-a-long, which is the old, lower part of St Ives built on the narrow ridge of land that separated The Island to the rest of the town. This part of town is the archetypal image of St Ives with its jumble of cobble streets lined with whitewashed, old cottages, some seeming to fall apart and others in better condition. Y/N thought the street names were equally evocative and unique, some of her favourites being Salubrious Place, Teetotal Street, and The Digney. Though it said in her catalogue that fishermen used to live in the Down-a-long before, next to none lived there now as most of it was occupied by galleries, cafes, and little shows that one can shake a stick at. As she strolled through Fore Street, the main shopping street in St Ives, she walked by a vintage shop – Vintage Divine – and jotted it down on her phone.

All her life, Y/N had always loved everything vintage. She liked the thought of owning something that had once been part of someone else’s life, that had made them happy enough they wanted to hand it on and give someone else that same happiness they’d experienced. Though neither her mum, her dad, or her ex-boyfriend liked her obsession with vintage and stuff owned by others before her, their disinterest had never stopped her from going to markets or stores. However, she never bought anything unless she knew she could hide it. Now, she thought, that didn’t have to be a problem.

A few years back when she started to realise her obsession with old stuff, furniture, clothing, and books owned by others before her, she read an article online. The article had suggested that people are attracted to vintage pieces because they offer an escape. Wearing these garments, holding these ornaments, touching furniture from another time is a way to experience a different life. A life that isn’t your own and that was lived before hers or parallel to hers. Shopping vintage then created an exciting search for something special and creative, something a normal shopping trip could never give her. It was weird how much she was looking forward to going through that shop, Y/N realised, but she couldn’t wait to explore and take items home with her. Not that she expected she’d be welcomed home to Winchester anytime soon, but she chose not to think about that too much.

Fore Street was a narrow and cobblestone-clad street with people milling about trying to find a decent place for lunch. Stone cottages lined both sides of the street, either a neutral colour like white, a dull yellow, beige, light blue, or just plain, grey stone. Y/N enjoyed walking among these houses. It was a quiet town, peace seemed to be permanently settled between the cramped streets and tiny houses. Though Winchester wasn’t London with its tall buildings and never-ending bustle, St Ives was even smaller than her hometown, which made it that much more appealing to her. There was a sense of relaxation in the mere atmosphere around her that massaged the tension out of her shoulders and straightened her hunched back.

The door to the Seafood Café she was about to walk by burst open. A couple of people standing around jumped at the commotion, as did Y/N. Dressed in high-waisted loose fitted denim jeans, a white tee shirt tucked into them, a pair of orange worn down Vans, and brown curls in a dishevelled mess, the man who caused the ruckus didn’t seem to notice everyone’s attention being on him. He halted a bit as he came outside before he walked left. Y/N stopped moving, the sudden interruption in her peaceful stroll taking her off guard. The man suddenly started straight for Y/N, his head bent, eyes on the cobblestone before him. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going, not looking up in the direction he was heading. So, when he saw Y/N’s shadow, that’s when he glanced up. Their eyes met just a second before he managed to stop, preventing them from crashing into one another.

“Oh!” he erupted, voice crescendoing. He blinked twice, eyes settling on her for a few seconds before he said a quick, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I should’ve moved out of the way,” Y/N assured him, about to step to the side when she noticed his lips moving again. No words came out, though. She stood there for a few seconds, just watching his jaw and lips work, not seeming to find his words.

“Have a good day,” she went on, trying to step out of the way when the man blurted out, “Please, miss.”

She looked at him again, about to narrow her eyes when she saw a troubled expression on his face. His eyes were a little wide and he glanced over his shoulder before meeting her eyes again. The door to Seafood Café opened again, a woman and a younger girl stepping out.

“Please,” he repeated, voice low. “Go along.”

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll owe you my entire life if you just play along for a minute or two, yeah?”

She cocked her head some to the side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I should-“

“-I don’t usually do this- I mean, I never do, I’ve never done this before – ever -, but-but they think I have a girlfriend and I don’t. Please-“

“-Harry!”

The man – who Y/N could only assume to be Harry - turned around to face a tiny Filipina woman and an even smaller girl beside her, who looked to be no older than ten. The two looked Y/N over, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Y/N felt like she was under a magnifying glass.

But while they took her in, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the words the man beside her had said only a few seconds earlier. “They think I have a girlfriend and I don’t.” Was he… was he saying what Y/N thought he was saying? She glanced at him, seeing him draw a shaky breath and meet her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move it seemed. Everything that had happened in the last minute confused her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know what he’d told these two women or why. She was also well aware that by just walking away she wouldn’t need to worry about him any longer; his problems weren’t hers. This seemed messy, confusing, and a little risky.

Usually, she wouldn’t want any part of it. The Y/N she was yesterday wouldn’t have considered this. She would’ve looked at the man apologetically before excusing herself and walking off, leaving him to figure out whatever lie he’d told these two on his own. But Y/N had changed. Or… at least that’s what she wanted to believe… Fine, she wanted to change, and maybe this was a place to start.

Harry sighed, turning around to face the two he had tried to get away from, shoulders sinking as he met their eyes. The defeat was evident in his body language; he was about to give up and just tell them that he didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what finally did it, seeing how it took absolutely everything out of him to tell them the following. “Jasmine, I’m sorry, I need to tell you-“

“-It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N interrupted him, smiling as she stepped out from behind Harry. Though she had seriously considered helping him, it still surprised her when she actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. Her heart was beating about as fast as it had that morning when she’d left Hampshire.

Harry looked at her, mouth falling open, obviously shocked by her willingness to help him. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but once he did, he looked back at the two they were trying to convince with a bright smile on his face.

“What did you have to tell me, Harry?” the older woman asked.

“That, uhh…” He looked at Y/N again before glancing at who she could only assume to be Jasmine. “Jessa, this is my girlfriend.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, eyes lighting up suddenly. The girl beside her stood there fidgeting with the hem of her top, looking Y/N up and down still.

“Hi,” Y/N said, stepping forward and reaching her hand out for Jasmine. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jasmine said, a smile coming to rest on her round face as they let go of the others’ hand. “Harry, you said her name was unusual.”

“That… I-“ Harry stopped himself.

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure how to react to that.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell us her name, since it was so unusual. Y/N isn’t unusual.”

Y/N chuckled a little, looking at Harry whose whole face was a shade of red she’d never seen before. He glanced around him, meeting her gaze before quickly looking to the ground, scratching at his neck.

“You thought my name was weird?” She was well aware Harry hadn’t known her name until that point, let alone had any time to form an opinion on it. But regardless, she found it funny how he’d refused to give them his pretend girlfriend’s name by telling them it was an unusual one, as if they’d laugh at it.

“I didn’t-“ Harry sighed. “It wasn’t like I was embarrassed I just…” He trailed off, motioning with his hands, but Y/N had no idea what that meant. She didn’t take it to heart, though, knowing it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his cover-up story.

“He has such a way with words,” Jasmine said, clicking her tongue at him. “Anyway, I’m Jasmine, but just call me Jessa. Harry’s stepmother.”

“And I’m Grace.” The little one stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. The small one had the same roundness to her face as the woman beside her, as well as the same flat nose and almond shaped eyes like Jessa’s. “Harry’s kept you a secret.”

“Gracie, I haven’t kept her a secret as much as I’ve kept her away,” Harry said. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“We won’t scare her!” Jessa exclaimed. “It’s your girlfriend, Harry! We will be nice.”

“Somehow doubt that.” Harry turned to Y/N, turning his back to his step mum and what must be his half-sister. “They like to interrogate, especially Jasmine.”

“You villainise us,” Jessa said, walking closer to them and taking Y/N’s hand between hers. It took her off guard and she almost pulled her hand away, the feel of someone’s skin voluntarily touching hers felt weird.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, ignoring Jessa. There was an apology in his eyes that he didn’t voice. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought she saw anyway. “They’ll make it hard to enjoy yourself.”

Jessa reached over and pinched Harry’s exposed forearm. He flinched away from her, glaring as he stepped back a few paces.

“Now you’re being rude.”

“I don’t want you lot to make her uncomfortable with all your questions,” Harry said, a frown etched in his forehead. He hadn’t met Y/N’s eyes directly ever since they almost walked into one another. “Besides, she’s…” Harry’s eyes fell to the guide in Y/N’s hand. “She’s sightseeing.”

Y/N smiled at Jessa and Grace, showing them the small book she was carrying with her. “I’ve just been to the Island. The view from there is fantastic.”

“Harry, the view from the Island is nothing. Have you shown her yet?”

“Jessa, it’s… she’s just…”

Finally, he looked at her, not knowing what to say that would make his stepmother give it a rest. Y/N could understand why she asked so many questions, she was just eager to get to know someone who she thought was Harry’s new partner.

“I arrived this morning,” Y/N answered, smiling at Jasmine. “We haven’t had the time to meet up properly, so in the meantime I’ve just been walking around.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“At the Inn. The Roaming Crab.”

Jessa’s eyes went wide, looking at Harry disapprovingly again. “She’s not even staying with you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“She could stay at our house,” Grace said, eyes on the space that separated Y/N and Harry before she met Y/N’s eyes.

“It’s not that… It’s not like that, I-“ Harry stopped himself, dragging his hand over his face that had been bright red ever since this whole spectacle started. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I?” Jessa crossed her arms.

“Yes… I-“ Harry stuttered and though Y/N hadn’t known this man for very long, she could tell he found it hard to find his words in stressful situations.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for a long period of time before, this would be the first, so I’m staying at the Inn so we won’t get tired of each other too quickly.” Y/N hoped she sounded confident and truthful; she wouldn’t want to blow this for Harry already. After all, she had no idea how long he’d need this pretend girlfriend lie for.

A frown appeared between Jasmine’s brows and it dawned on Y/N that she must’ve said something wrong just now. Panic rose to her chest, but Harry cleared his throat.

“Except for that trip to Exeter last month, but that was only a single weekend. Now she’s here for…” He narrowed his eyes, as if the answer was at the tip of his tongue but Y/N knew she was the only one with an answer to that.

“August 12th,” she said, Jessa letting go of a small squeal at the sound of it. “Dunno how many weeks that’ll be, but I’m-“

“-That’s fantastic! You need to come to Gracie’s birthday next weekend.”

Harry stuttered a little, Jessa’s enthusiasm making him nervous, Y/N thought. “Nanay-“

“-She’s going to love that, won’t you, Gracie?”

Grace nodded her head, grinning up at Y/N. “You can put pretty stuff on my eyelids.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some and Jessa laughed. “Eyeshadow.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t have loads of that since I’m no good with make-up, but I do have nice jewellery.” Y/N picked at the one she was wearing just then, a gold necklace she’d gotten for her birthday the year before.

Grace’s smile didn’t fade one bit at that. In fact, it only seemed to get a little bigger at the sight of Y/N’s pretty necklace. The girl didn’t say anything, but she swayed from side to side, looking excitedly up at her brother’s supposed new girlfriend.

“You’re coming then?” Jessa asked, looking so happy she might burst, and it hurt Y/N that she probably wouldn’t.

“Jessa, we have barely had time to catch up, let her breathe,” Harry pleaded and Jessa waved her hands at them.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Y/N. It’s just…” Jasmine’s eyes fell on Harry standing beside Y/N, her eyes glistening. “It’s just so nice to know Harry’s not alone anymore.”

“I’ve never been alone, nanay.”

Jessa shook her head, sighing heavily. “Alright, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. You’ll probably want some time to yourselves to just walk around. Has she been to the lighthouse, Harry? Take her there.”

Harry sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Nay-“

“-Fine, we’ll leave. It was so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jessa. And you, Grace.”

Grace gave a wave before Jessa took her hand and the two walked away, probably on their way home or whatever other plans they had. Y/N watched them for a few before turning to Harry. His blush had calmed down a little, but a bead of sweat had appeared at his cupid’s bow. If it was because of nerves or the weather, she did not know, but she was not about to ask him that.

Upon closer inspection and now that they didn’t have Harry’s stepmum and sister watching over them, Y/N could finally study the man she rescued for a total of five minutes. Green eyes that reminded her of the moors she’d spend time running through each summer, a slight stubble along his soft jawline, nose a little too big for his face, and a slight dimple in each cheek even though he wasn’t smiling fully yet. She wondered what they’d look like if he actually grinned.

“Hi,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Y/N.”

Harry chuckled softly, taking her hand, eyes staying on the place they were touching each other. “Harry.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help, Harry.”

A crooked smile reached his lips as his eyes fell to the ground and he stepped away, letting his hand fall to hit his thigh. He glanced up at her. “Thank you for that. They say they’re worried, but they’re really just nosey.”

Y/N grimaced a little, making a breathy laugh escape Harry’s lips. “Is your life more interesting than theirs?”

“Not in the least. I lead the most boring existence in the most boring town in the United Kingdom.”

She chuckled, reaching for her necklace. “Not sure you can claim that title, my life’s pretty up there as well.”

Harry tried to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but the arms of his denim jacket wrapped around his waist were in the way. “Oh?”

“Blimey, I won’t keep you if you’ve got things to do. You look like a busy man.”

Harry stared at the watch on his wrist and bit his bottom lip, looking up at her through his thick set of dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I gotta be on my way actually.”

She gave him a smile, getting one in return.

“Listen, thank you so much for that. I just needed to get them off my back. You don’t actually have to come to Gracie’s birthday party, Jessa just loves when she gets to interrogate people. Her favourite sport is discussing gossip.”

Y/N laughed. “You burn a lot of calories doing that.”

Harry chuckled, scratching at his neck as his eyes fell to her neck and then shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t know how to repay you. If you’re here till August, I guess I’ll see you around.”

For some reason, Harry not really knowing what to say was funny to Y/N. It wasn’t like he owed her anything or the other way around. She’d just helped him out and now they could part ways. Easy as that.

“You don’t have to repay me, I’m glad I could help,” she smiled. “I’ll try and stay out of your way if I see you out and about. You know, to avoid the awkward conversation of telling them we’re not actually together.”

Harry’s lips tipped upward. “Right, thanks.”

“Now, since I’m talking to you,” she said, opening the catalogue again. “Where’s the Tate Gallery?”

Harry turned around, pointing up Fore Street from where they stood. “When you reach Bunkers Hill, you follow that all the way up to Back Road, then you just walk along The Digney and it’ll be on your right-hand side.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. I… It was too much-“

“-I’m serious when I say I’m glad I could help, don’t worry about it.” She shot him one last smile before giving him a wave. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye,” he said, giving her a short nod before she focused her attention back on her surroundings. She needed to catch the street names and get her walk to the Tate on the first try because she could really not be asked to walk back and whip her phone out. After all, Harry just helped her so it was going to be easy to just follow his navigation and get there.

As she strolled along the gallery and the rest of St Ives that day, she couldn’t help but think about that little encounter earlier. She wondered what happened after that, if Jessa and Grace demanded more information from Harry or if he told them how it was all a lie. Putting it all aside, she focused on her trip instead. She’d never meet that family again, but she really hoped everything worked out for them regardless. The last thing she needed was for this summer to be about anything but her and what she really wanted in life. She didn’t need distractions. Her whole life up until now had been a distraction.

Friday, 12 June

Being in south England and not taking advantage of the amazing beaches this part of the country offered, was maybe on the same wrongdoing scale as committing a serious crime. Y/N had gotten dressed that morning and headed straight downstairs to eat breakfast in the tiny dining hall of the Inn. It was positioned in what must’ve originally been the living room in the house, four tables placed in there with two chairs placed by each of them. The dining room had the same layout as the entrance to the Inn; wooden panels all over, flowers and plants everywhere along with pictures and candles to top it off.

When she walked downstairs, Bessie was quick to jump up from where she was sitting in her small back garden, meeting Y/N with a warm beam on her face. When Bessie asked Y/N if she’d like a meat, vegetarian, or vegan full English, Y/N startled herself by replying vegetarian. She hadn’t grown up vegetarian, but in all her life, she’d never had a purely vegetarian meal. So, instead of correcting herself, she let Bessie make her that vegetarian breakfast. The thought of eating something she hadn’t before didn’t make her anxious as she thought it would’ve, but she was rather excited about the whole thing.

Bessie came out with the tray, setting it down before Y/N and asked her if she would mind Bessie’s company. With a quick reply encouraging the old lady to sit down, Bessie ran – or walked as fast as her short legs could take her – outside and returned with her knitting. Y/N had been alone pretty much all day the day before nd she had anticipated being alone all day today as well, so she rather enjoyed Bessie’s company. She had never really envisioned this to be part of her trip to Cornwall – an old lady with her grey hair put neatly in a bun with two knitting needles holding it up, wearing a long bohemian dress and glasses perched on the end of her nose, talking her ear off and Y/N having an immense amount of fun in the process.

The sea and seagulls sounded from inside the Inn, but as Y/N put her bathing suit and summer dress on, on her way down towards the beach, the costal sounds only intensified. The salt in the air clung to her skin and the smell of seaweed got more prominent the closer she got to the ocean. She put her stuff down and brought The Well of Loneliness out again, wanting to finish the book that day because she really wanted to know how it all ended. She wasn’t sure how much time went by as she laid there, completely captivated by the world Radclyffe Hall had created within the book.

It wasn’t that Y/N particularly enjoyed the book. No, it wasn’t that. It was endlessly long and detailed, for absolutely no purpose. The writing wasn’t particularly memorable; one wouldn’t remember it for its evocative and imaginative characteristics, nor for Hall’s ability to tell instead of show. Over the years she’d studied English in college, Y/N knew that a writer should be able to balance those two out; show some, tell some. But that concept was lost on Hall. No, Y/N didn’t like The Well of Loneliness for its writing, not even the plot.

She liked the book because of the plea embedded in it. The plea for LGBT people to be treated as human; that they were normal and not a disease. Why did they have to be other? They didn’t choose this life so why were they to be punished for it by being treated differently? By being illegal? The Well of Loneliness was published around the same time Orlando by Virginia Woolf, who was one of Y/N’s favourite authors ever. Though these two books touched on similar themes of identity, where Orlando shrouded the issue of mysticism, The Well dared to discuss sexual identity openly. Y/N commended Radclyffe Hall for that.

However much Y/N sympathised with Hall and the main character, Stephen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the book. While it attempted to strive for acceptance of one minority, it also emanated an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities at the same time, which made no sense to Y/N. Then again, it was the 1920s, so she guessed she couldn’t really ask for anything else from a rich white person at the time.

Having finally finished the book, Y/N asked someone nearby if they could watch her things while she took a dip. There was a blonde bloke around her age and another bloke with blue hair, sitting not too far off, and when she asked if they could keep an eye on her stuff, they promised they would.

Y/N took her time swimming, trying to remember the last time she’d been on a beach where the public were allowed. It was odd seeing so many around her, but she liked it. She liked the sound of others around her. Silence was good, but in the disturbance of human noise was the reassurance of rescue. The promise that you might be lonely, but you are never alone.

Walking back up to her picnic blanket, Y/N thanked the two men before lying back down, soaking up the sun. She hadn’t been aware she’d already been at the beach for a few hours until she realised her stomach was rumbling. So, packing her stuff together and making sure her hair was somewhat dry, she walked around to see if there were any places she could sit down. The only place on Porthminster Beach was the café with the same name, and by the looks of it, it was completely full. Since Bessie had served Y/N some breakfast, she must have something for lunch as well.

Walking back the 5 minute to the hotel, Bessie jumped up from her place in the back garden, sitting back there with two other ladies and knitting like they’d done the day before.

“Hello, dear, you had a good trip to the beach?”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel completely at ease in this old woman’s company. “Yes, I did. A bit hungry, though, do you have something I could eat, possibly?”

“Of course! What do you fancy?”

“Oh, a toastie’s fine.”

“Vegetarian?”

For some reason, the fact Bessie remembered Y/N’s preference from this morning made her smile. “Yes,” she said without thinking.

“Right, just sit down and I’ll come by with your lunch, my lovely.”

“Thank you so much, Bessie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N sat down, bringing her phone out as she hadn’t checked it properly in a few hours. She wasn’t sure what she expected, to be fair. There was no one from home who would want to contact her, and if they were to, they would rather look around Winchester than call. In their minds, she couldn’t have run far. Regardless, the mere fact they hadn’t even called her made something inside her sink a little. It felt awful knowing how little she meant to them all along. So little that they wouldn’t even pick up the phone and save her a call or a text.

“Here, my dear,” Bessie said, putting down a tray before Y/N. “I’m gonna pop outside to my little knitting club, if that’s fine by you. Just come on out if you don’t have anything else to do after this, yeah?”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said and Bessie smiled at her before she disappeared outside again.

Turning her attention to her food, Y/N started thinking about what she could do the rest of the day. She could walk some more around town, she’d seen bigger parts of it yesterday, but there were always corners of a town that needed discovering. Once she was about halfway through her toastie, hasty footsteps sounded from the lobby and a somewhat familiar figure appeared. He stopped a bit on his way towards the reception desk, as if he didn’t want to be a bother to Bessie of some kind by asking for assistance. Bessie appeared a few seconds later, grinning from ear to ear as usual.

“Hello, Harry love.”

“Hi, Bess. I…” he stopped himself, running his hands up and down the sides of his white and grey striped cotton-blend trousers, a navy blue tee shirt tucked into it and a pair of white Vans on his feet. “I just wanted to come check again.”

“For the third time.”

“Yeah, well…” He did a quick shrug. “I just wanted to check.”

“She’s here.” Bessie gestured to Harry’s right and when he looked that way, his eyes immediately found Y/N’s. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. However, a summer in a small coastal town would make that very hard. She’d try her hardest to stay out of Harry’s way, as well as his family’s, so she wouldn’t make things awkward. She would have escaped to a town a little further south or on the other side of Cornwall, but she was settled in now and she’d already paid for her whole stay.

Though she’d promised to keep away from him to prevent any unpleasant situations, Harry hadn’t made her the same promise. And here he was. For some reason. He seemed both taken off guard to see her sitting there as well as relieved he’d finally caught her. A sigh left him, slumping his tense shoulders a little before he thanked Bessie quickly and walked to Y/N.

“Is it,” he started as he made his way over. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Y/N nodded her head while swallowing, gesturing with her hand at the chair opposite hers. “Yes, go ahead,” she said when her mouth was free to.

“Cheers.” Harry sat down, slid a little closer to the table and rested his hands between his legs as he leaned back against the back of the chair.

The two fell into silence for a little while, Y/N watching as Harry’s eyes fixed on the small bouquet of flowers in the tiny vase placed in the middle of the round table. Yes, she loved company, but Harry’s had taken her a little by surprise and she was eager to know why he’d come looking for her. She didn’t want to try and draw a conclusion herself without hearing his reasoning first, knowing that whatever she came up with wouldn’t be correct anyway. Instead, she put her toastie back on her plate and focused her attention on Harry, who had yet to say anything. From the way he was biting the inside of his lip, she assumed he was mulling over the right thing to say. It didn’t seem to ever come when finally, he opened his mouth.

“First, I just want to say sorry for yesterday,” he said, meeting her eyes, but quickly looking to her shoulder. “It was proper daft. I was desperate and I panicked, and you were right there.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

Y/N just gave him a smile. “You don’t have to apologise, I’m glad I could help.”

“And I appreciate you helping me out, I really do, but… here’s the thing…” He cleared his throat. “Jessa and Gracie are right about losing their minds of this.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they called and texted all last night and this morning, saying how nice it was to meet you, that I need to bring you to Grace’s birthday next Saturday,” Harry said. “And it makes me wonder if it was even worth it yesterday. I still appreciate what you did, and this is all my fault, but I think…” He trailed off again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing a naff job of explaining this.”

Sipping her juice, Y/N just smiled at him till she put her glass down. “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath. “Think I might tell them it’s all fake. I don’t have a partner and that’s fine.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, being single is fine.”

“Only thing that’s stopping me is the fact that Jasmine will be crushed. Ever since my dad died, she’s been so worried about me living alone in the lighthouse.”

There was so much to unpack in that sentence that Y/N felt herself retract a little, scanning his face for what the appropriate reaction to that would be. Harry must’ve noticed her silence so he glanced at her face, eyes going wide.

“Oh! Don’t feel like you-“

“-I’m sorry about your dad.”

“No, that’s okay, he hasn’t been with us for two years now,” Harry went on. “That was a real mood killer. Bringing up my dead father with someone I barely know.”

Y/N smiled. “Think you fake breaking up with me was a great mood killer before that was even brought up.”

Harry smiled a little at that, those deep dimples just barely gracing his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She wiped at her mouth with the napkin, brows slowly coming into a frown. “You said something about a lighthouse… do you live there?”

“In the lighthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m the lighthouse keeper.”

Her frown deepened a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t think those existed anymore.”

“What, lighthouses?” Harry’s smile widened, amusement tracing his pink lips.

“No, lighthouse keepers.”

He shrugged. “Here’s a living, breathing example of one.”

She couldn’t help her laughter. “Fine, I take it back. I don’t really think about lighthouses enough to give their keepers much of a thought either.”

“Too bad.”

Y/N just shook her head some, noticing a slight redness to Harry’s cheeks that hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. “You were saying about Jessa.”

“She’s worried about me living alone in the lighthouse. Says I’ll be lonely and that she thinks about me sitting up there crying my eyes out or summat.”

“Do you? Cry your eyes out?”

“No, I like having my own space. I like living there alone. She’s just being a protective stepmum, looking out for me and all that. Like, yes, I’m still sad Dad is dead, but it wasn’t like he lived with me in the lighthouse anyway. He lived with Jasmine and Grace.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She doesn’t want you to be alone ‘cause she thinks you don’t want to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pausing a bit before mumbling something that sounded like, “That’s why I’ve told them for a few months now that I have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes some.

“To get them off my back, innit? I don’t want them to think I’m miserable, ‘cause I’m not. But when I told them I had a girlfriend, they got so happy, yeah? I just tried to be as vague as possible, didn’t give them a name and they didn’t ask, assuming I wanted to keep her secret. Jessa hasn’t bugged me about this in weeks… Until yesterday.”

Y/N started piecing everything together. “That’s why you stormed out of the restaurant.”

He nodded. “And ran into you.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “The idea of just telling them I was your fake girlfriend just fell into your head once you saw me?”

Harry chuckled and shifted his gaze away from her, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah. I never do stuff like that. I hate uncertainty, so trusting you yesterday when I didn’t know if you’d play along… well, it took five years of my life.”

 She laughed. “If I hadn’t then the whole lie would’ve been obvious to Jessa and Grace.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help then,” Y/N said, really meaning it as well.

“Yeah, and thank you so much for doing so. It really helped me out… if you look away from Jasmine texting me five times today alone to organise a dinner with you and all of us.”

They both laughed a little at that and when Y/N glanced at Harry again, he was looking down at his hands in his lap. After a brief pause, he met her eyes again.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and thank you for helping me. I’ll tell them everything now, I don’t want you to have to hide while you’re here for two months.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

For the next few seconds, they looked at one another in silence. Y/N thought back to the moment she’d seen Harry, how it might’ve taken her a few seconds to catch on, but her main instinct had been to help him. She thought of the gratitude on Harry’s face when she played along, how she hoped he one day would find an actual girlfriend that would have just as big of an impact on Jessa and Grace as it seemed she herself had. She was about to tell Harry this when the sound of footsteps sounded from the lobby again.

A woman Bessie’s age walked in, a bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses in her short black hair. As she stepped inside, she spotted Harry and Y/N sitting together and her mouth fell open, a grin coming to rest on her wrinkling face.

“Bessie, you didn’t tell me these two were going to be here,” the old woman said, walking into the dining area. Bessie stepped out from behind the wall that hid the reception desk from the dining hall. At that, Y/N’s stomach dropped. Bessie must’ve heard their entire conversation. By the look on Harry’s face, he was going through a similar near-death experience to the one Y/N was currently enduring.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” Harry said, no one seemed to notice the slight tremor to his voice.

“Harry and his new girlfriend,” Mrs Rose said, looking between them. “You know, you lot are the talk of the town.”

“We are?” Harry asked, the surprise in his voice so evident it made the older women laugh.

“Yes, of course! Jasmine told everyone!” Mrs Rose continued, looking to Bessie who was already nodding her head.

“Not everyone, but she told her friends, and you know how people like to gossip around here, don’t you, Harry?” Bessie gave him a smile and Harry smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes. “Anyway, Florence, this is Y/N. Y/N, Florence.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N said, grinning at Florence who stuck her hand out. The two shook hands as Florence beamed back at Y/N. “So, the whole town knows?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Florence said, turning to Bessie who made a noise of agreement. “Jessa can talk about everything and anything for hours, but if her stepson gets a girlfriend? That’s the news of the century and she will not shut up.”

“How lovely,” Y/N said, not really knowing what else was appropriate in this setting as Harry hadn’t opened his mouth once to say anything.

“It’s a little less lonesome up in that lighthouse now, hm?”

“Oh, uhm…” Harry looked at Y/N and then back at Florence, his words having completely escaped him. Y/N was about to come to Harry’s rescue when Bessie took them both by surprise.

“They stayed here tonight,” Bessie explained and Florence looked at her with a furrow between her brows.

“Why on earth would they do that? Harry’s got a perfectly nice place by the lighthouse.”

“Who are we to question the decisions of our youth?” Bessie linked arms with Florence. “Let’s go outside, Flo dear. Leave the lovebirds to be by themselves.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Rose,” Y/N called after them.

“And you, Y/N!”

The second the two ladies were out of sight, Harry and Y/N shared a wide-eyed look, both of their panic equal it seemed. Y/N took a sip of her juice, somehow thinking it would calm her down. It did not.

“Jasmine told everyone,” Harry said, voice a whisper so no one walking by or sitting in the back garden would hear them. “She told everyone.”

“She can’t have… right?”

“You underestimate Jessa. If she was kidnapped and put in a gag, she’d be able to talk through it and move her jaw and teeth in a way that would obliterate said gag.” Harry ran a hand over his face. “She’s very chatty.”

“You’ve painted a vivid picture.”

Harry sighed, leg bouncing and eyes distant as he seemed to be racking his brain for a solution to the situation they were finding themselves in. “I was gonna tell Jessa it was a lie. I was gonna tell-“

“-You still can.”

“But everyone knows now. It’ll be well embarrassing for us when we have to tell people on the street that ‘oh yeah, that ol’ thing, we only pretended to be a couple so people wouldn’t be all up in Harry’s business,’ I somehow don’t see that going down well.”

“Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

“What’s that?”

“We pretend to be a couple.”

He stared at her, his facial expression very neutral, and though Y/N didn’t know him well enough yet, she did think she could decipher when he was displeased and when he was not. He seemed to be mulling it over, wanting for her to elaborate before he made a final decision.

“Everyone knows, I’m leaving in August, we can just say we broke up when August comes around.”

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked, “What will people say when they see us separated on the street then? Like, we’re not seen together.”

“People need to spend some time apart; it’s exhausting to be around another person 24/7.”

Harry nodded again, contemplating their predicament. “There’s always a lot of parties around here during summer. You don’t have to tag along, but you might have to if Jessa’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders some. “I don’t have anything to do all summer, anyway. Might as well be in a fake relationship with a bloke I barely know and help him all I can.”

This made a breathy chuckle leave Harry’s lips and he held her gaze some before having it fall to his folded hands. “Well…” he said, suddenly reaching his hand across the table. “I’m Harry Edward Styles.”

Y/N laughed but took Harry’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. I’m Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay.”

Harry whistled under his breath. “Mouthful.”

“What happens when you’re brought up in a posh family.”

Harry smiled at that and sat back in his chair. “I guess… I-I guess we should talk about how we got together and all that.”

“Yeah, make a story so it sounds more believable.”

“It’ll help if we have the same story, yes.”

She couldn’t help her laughter again, but it was cut short as Harry’s phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, taking it out and looking at it before putting it back down.

“Look, I gotta go.”

“Oh.” Y/N, having thought they were going to plan their fake dating history, blinked in confusion when Harry stood from his chair and looked at her apologetically. “We’ll see each other at some point.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, walking off toward the back garden, calling Bessie’s name as he did. They exchanged some words Y/N couldn’t hear and Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before resurfacing again. Standing in the lobby, he looked at Y/N through the doorway leading into the dining area, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

She just gave him a smile, hoping he understood that she just wanted him to take his time. It took one more sigh and a little staring contest before Harry finally found his words.

“You know where to find me, my house is the very tall, pointy one on the outskirts of town.”

She chuckled, watching as he walked out of the front door and down the street. Y/N found her bag, putting it on her shoulder as she got her lunch tray and sat it in the kitchen as she’d done after her breakfast that morning. On her way upstairs, Y/N turned as she reached the front door that was left open to welcome guests. Stepping into the doorway, she looked out over St Ives.

Seagulls were still screaming overhead, the sound of people down by the beach hung in the air all throughout the day, it smelled of seafood and summer, and just beyond the small town, on a tiny hilltop and on the very tip of a cliff, stood a lighthouse. A white lighthouse that rose high above the whole coast around it, protecting everyone. Locals, foreigners, and sailors. And it was operated and taken care of by the bloke Y/N was going to spend her entire summer in a fake relationship with. It didn’t seem real, and yet, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t have Harry’s number and knew next to nothing about him, but – as he put it – he lived in the very tall, pointy house on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss it. She could find her way to him, even in the dark.

The lighthouse keeper, Y/N thought to herself as she took in the lighthouse again through the window of her room once she walked upstairs. I have to pretend to be in love with a lighthouse keeper. And somehow, Y/N realised when looking back on that particular summer, that wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to her in St Ives.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 2 August, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @juliassgem​ 🌊 @summerfeelng​ 🌊 @sunflower--styles 🌊 @withallthelove-a​ 🌊

[practicalmagicintuitions]

Reading on HC

DISCLAIMER: If you will send me an Anon, I will answer in the same tone as your ask, opinion is written.

All information and statements made in this reading or any other post of mine are all alleged until proven to be fact and for entertainment purposes & usage only. All information stated is based on my intuition and my tarot cards. Opinion only. The readings have no intention to cause any harm to the individuals, people featured in it.

Disclaimer 2 : seems extra long reading to me, sorry for that. If there any typo sorry for that too, I wanted to post this today, so I typed like a mofo. 

Cards pulled on 15/07

What is happening now?

Devil rx Eight of Wands. 

On The Devil card, you can see the couple from the Lovers card chained together while The Devil is watching them. Those two cards are numerological counterparts ( The Lovers 6 The Devil is 15 = 1+5=6) so they have a connection but this is not limited to some romantic relationship. This card also deals with addiction, obsession, influences, control, illusion, materialism. And when the card is upright the pentagram is in the “wrong” position, it’s upside down. So when the card is reversed, the pentagram returns its correct position and becomes the protective symbol again. 

So The Devil rx means the chain falls off, it’s an opportunity to free yourself from those obsessive, addictive things which affect you. It's realising you have the power to change. But before you came to this realisation and urge to be free, you have to hit the rock bottom. I feel it’s important to say that in this question I haven’t asked about his romantic relationship, so it could mean changing a circle of friends or situations too. 

8 of wands is often called the cupid’s arrow or the falling in love card while it is more about infatuation and adrenalin rush. It’s also a fast-moving card. This card is also called the holiday love card.

So I see two possible options. One of them is he is ready to free himself from some bounding situation fast. And this freeing attempt makes him enthusiastic, cause some adrenalin rush and in this case, it means he is trying to free himself from infatuation. He wants rapid results.  The second option is that he is trying to free himself because there is another person, a third one if you like. 

HC+NV relationship now. 

Eight of Swords rx, Five of cups, The Sun rx. 

It’s very interesting to see those 3 cards together, I had to meditate on them a little bit longer.

With the 8ofSwrx I think he has a more realistic, clearer view on this relationship. I think this clarity cause great sadness and regret. (5ofC) Sun rx means the relationship is cooled down. 5ofC is a traditional bad relationship card. Not necessarily a breakup but definitely arguments and disharmony. Because this is about the relationship and because 8ofSWrx is about to break free, release, escape freedom (like the Devil rx) and the 5ofC has a breakup meaning, I think the relationship itself lost its warmth, burnt out. Maybe because the past events were too much or one of the parties is still crying over a “spilt milk” aka cannot let the past go, a past relationship perhaps. If this is about letting go of this current relationship with NV, it won’t be a lucky “escape”. It will bring sorrow, probably thinking about why this didn’t work? 

HC feelings, emotions

Judgement rx on top of it 7ofSwords

Judgment rx is about a difficult transition you are resisting or need time to adjust. It’s the refusal to hear the call. Delays, confusion, broken family units. etc. But because we have the 7ofSw on top of it ( and I mentioned before how I pay attention to the cards that fall on the others. This is only my method, maybe others don’t care but I do) I think he is seeking a way out about this situation he seemingly cannot let it go. But this card is an unsettling, shady, sneaky one. It brings dishonesty. Walking on eggshells, getting away with something, preparing for some action. Discomfort is the foundation of this card, it’s almost like you want to be truthful but cannot get what you want with honesty. This is the white lies, diplomatic approach to a situation. You know how he was compared to a politician, this is it basically. I feel this is the I cannot let go, but somehow I want to but my methods and ways won’t be honest and nice. For example when your partner is cheating you but too coward to admit it and accusing you of cheating. You fed up, break up with them, so they got what they want without being hones. That was just an example to describe the card, not the exact situation I saw here. 7ofSw is also means planning, mind games, tactics, being undercover etc. 

9ofWands, Page of Cups, Star rx, 2of Cups rx

He was defensive, he protected a young feeling which was a teen love type of emotion ( I remember I got this card ones how this relationship felt at the beginning and I think this was his card back then too) and probably this is why he feels he is stuck, he cannot let go because he was protective over this. And just left this doesn’t seem an option, not with a clear exit. (again, not whit honesty)

With the Judgment rx this again means, hard time to let it go. He feels he was committed to fight for and guard that young feeling (as we saw with his FO post ) but now he is hopeless (Star rx). He also feels he is constantly battling and this wears him out. Maybe that’s why a relationship seems to burn out. 

Pages are not just the youngest but they are the news bringers in tarot. This cup could mean gossip, being overly dramatic. To be honest I think this perfectly fits for his FO post and maybe he feels it was too much, too dramatic. On the card, the Page is offering his cups to someone and it could mean he feels he made those offers. He offered his emotions to her but the situation is hopeless. Or more likely it was a false hope. I said once in my previous reading that the most intense feeling I get from him for NV is this Page of cups, teenage love thing, which is more like the first few weeks, head over heels emotion, but this is without any real substance. 

There is no love here. 2 of cups if it’s upright is still not the love we saw on the Lovers card. It’s more like the early touchy-feely phase of a relationship which could grow to something more but it could die down too. Reversed 2ofC means trouble in a relationship even the end of it. Two people realise they are not meant to be together. 2ofC not only represents romantic relationships but friendships too. In that case, it could mean a fallout between friends. 

What I found interesting is that this could mean a codependent relationship between two people to the extent they cannot leave each other. This resonates with the Judgment rx. 2ofCrx can be a sign of a third person in the relationship or that one of the parties feels attraction outside of the relationship. 

His relationship with his family

Wheel of fortune, 2 of wands

Wheel of Fortune could be a fate, a karmic card. As I understand here that it means they as a family have a strong relationship even if the wheel is turning to negative. I don’t see this bond be destroyed by a woman (like MM did with Harry and the BRF). Rifts, arguments yes, but I don’t see this as a permanent situation. 

The 2ofW is often described as planning the future because the figure on the card is looking at a globe he is holding in his hands. Here I almost feel he is looking into the wheel. 

2 of W is decision making. Seems like a passive card without moving but you are thinking, making plans, so it’s not passive really. He knows the decision he makes will affect many. But as a relationship nor the Wheel neither the 2ofW are good cards. So I definitely sense some trouble now ( at that time of the reading) but he is in the position to change things. 

9 of Pentacles, Strength.

The imagery of those cards are very similar. Both have a very bright yellow background, on both, we have a female figure alone with an animal. 

9ofP could represent an older woman, but first I want to talk about the Strength card. This is about your inner strength, calm the beast inside you. It means your inner strength is put up on a test. 9ofP could mean that you are sacrificed many things for success. I think he temporarily sacrificed some part of his family and this is what put his strength to the test. This card also correlates with material wealth and success. I used the RSW deck for all of my HC readings but I cannot let go the feeling I have when I am using my own, personal deck which is the Druid Craft Tarot. On that card, the woman has everything financially, but still, there is boredom on her face. She is not happy, she is missing someone or something from her life. And I feel as an emotion this is very much present. He has a good status financially, seems everything is good, but still he is not happy. And this is something that could put his inner strength for a test. 

2 of pentacles rx

If this card is upright it means we are successfully juggling between 2 things. Because it’s a pentacle many times this is about 2 jobs, but as I said pentacles are about resources. 

If this card is rx it means you cannot do that anymore. You know that you have to choose between the two things. It could mean his family vs NV, or NV and another one, but could mean a poor financial decision for example with his FL house, maybe he overspent. (Tbh I think I mentioned this before somewhere that maybe he will have problems with his house)

This card also could mean a breakup. I don’t see this means a breakup from his family, I think their relationship is tested. Since this is a rx 2 it speaks about imbalance. 

This very much describes the whole reading. I felt imbalanced. I had a hard time reading certain combinations, first, this whole didn’t make sense. I am not sure how clear I was, this is definitely not my most polished reading. But then I thought I think I am picking up their imbalance. Because this whole has the “ I want to be free” feeling, but at the same time the “I cannot let it go” too. Like I want to go but there is an anchor which is holding me back. 

If we check the cards I get, we have 4 twos ( 2 of cups, wands, pentacles, Judgement), 3 of them is reversed. It means losing harmony, trying to do 2 things at the same time unsuccessfully. The illusion of companionship. You don’t have equilibrium. etc. It’s about decision making, serious ones. Two sides of a story. It also means because those are reversed that he is afraid of making a decision, he rather wants to other make those on his behalf. 

We also have 4 eights ( 8of wands, swords, The Star, The Strength). 2 of them upright, 2 of them reversed. Eight is strength. His inner strength is tested, his life gets busier. Reversed one means bondage, lack of courage.

If you want to imagine his situation, imagine a swing. Back and forth, up and down. He needs to make a decision to slow down or stop, or he will lose control and fall off. This is what he is now and this is what I picked up, while I had a hard time understanding the cards.

I hope you enjoyed it. :)

[sly-merlin]

 HUMSAFAR - let me love you forever || lee jooheon

HUMSAFAR || companion or a fellow traveller.

• pairing || jooheon + doctor! y/n 

• Ages || 32 and 30

• Genre ||   transition from angst to fluff to angst to fluff / almost divorced au

• Word count || ~7k

• Warnings || angst???

A/N :: this piece is dedicated to my dear SEVEN @msmadness99​ , written for the @kafenetwork​ kafeholidays event! a little note for you at the end seven! enjoy🥳

beta readers ::my cutie @hunjins​ and sweetest @adamfoolcry​ (thank you so much for being patient and correcting me my two grammarly professors) and i hope you enjoyed your cameo aria)

Synopsis ||

At our parting neither you cried nor I

But why is it that neither you slept peacefully nor I

Even as grownups, we sometimes fail to understand how to keep going when the going gets tougher. Easiest decision? Give up. You chose it. Jooheon respected it. But with each passing day, apprehension of parting forces him to finally realise what he should have been doing before the going got tougher for the both of you!

He has a choice. Either to lead you closer to him or let you further away from him. Choosing the former, he makes you wear the binoculars to the past countering your impulsive decision with another of his own.

Without a word spoken, how would he say “Let me love you forever?”

Playlist: rainbow-sana, still falling for you, sixteen - ellie, you are the one for me - Shania, every man of mine - Shania (this one is just for fun)

At our parting of ways, neither you cried nor I

"I can’t take this anymore, jooheon. It’s not love if it suffocates you. Sign these papers so we can both move on. Please!” you pleaded.

 November 29

You pleaded.

He complied.

The very next moment, he regretted it.

 He was lost in the old conversations when your emerging figure broke his train of thoughts. He removed the baseball cap shadowing his eyes to take a good look at you. You looked tired. Incessantly massaging your nape, you passed his car with heavy footsteps without even sparing him a glance. Checking over his shoulder, he felt his confidence fading away as you neared your own car. His trembling fingers opened the door but his legs refused to move. The fear of facing you after two weeks settled in as shivers travelled from his hands reaching his chest but a voice in his head screamed for him to budge. Today was the day he had waited a long time for. He had been gathering the courage for two whole days and that might not be long for others but for him they were.

Inhaling a deep breath he walked around his car to approach you. From what was obvious to a stranger’s eye, you looked like you were struggling with your bags. Did she lose her keys again? Jooheon wondered.

“Lost something miss? I mean missus.” He corrected himself with emphasis.

He noticed you pausing your actions. Your back was still facing him but you were no more rummaging through your bag. When you turned around, he was met with a pair of furrowed brows.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in an ice cold voice.

“I just- I just wanted to see you.” he replied forgetting his love-speech he had memorised earlier.

“Leave! And never come here again. Anyone could recognise you here!” you deadpanned but couldn’t hide your worry for his privacy making him smile involuntarily.

“How are you?” he continued ignoring your warning.

“What exactly are you looking for joo?” He loved the way the nickname rolled off your tongue.

“You.”

“I won’t repeat again joo. Do not bother me again!”

“And why is that?”

“We are divorced.”

“Not yet!”

“It’s just 13 days joo. Then you’ll be free.”

“But I don’t want to.” You rolled your eyes at his sharp tongue.

“Papers are signed joo. I’m not sure where you are heading but save yourself the hard work and focus on your career instead. I need to go home.”

You whirled around to continue the search for keys when jooheon smoothly picked you up to place you on the car hood causing you to let out a small yelp. Holding you securely, he closed the unwanted distance to rub his forehead against yours to ease the creases on your head. Right when you were about to release the breath you held, his lips met your right cheek in a sweet kiss. His one hand cupped your chin in the softest of the manner and twisting his own face to the right, his cheek met with your lips to earn one for himself as well. Before you could decipher his train of actions, you were positioned back on your feet. Winking at your baffled face, he walked back to his car, all while smiling like an idiot.

“What are-?

“Don’t forget to eat something. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and check your pant pockets!” he shouted inappropriately loud for a public place.

His car left the parking lot and unconsciously your trembling fingers traced the pant pockets. The keys were in your pocket and like always, he was the one that reminded you!

Time passed but you kept staring at the empty space, transfixed by his actions.

But then, what’s this that neither you nor I slept peacefully!

The glass photo frame in your hand was stained with salty mixture of your tears and the mascara that was adorning your eyes till few minutes ago. Your fingers brushed the drops away to save the photo but the endless stream wasn't helping much. With back against the bedroom door and the chilled surface beneath, your body slightly shook at the midnight coldness. The heater managed to increase the temperature of the room yet it failed to release the warmth that your heart yearned for.

The photo you held with your dear life was taken in Rome, at the congratulatory trip you both had taken on your first marriage anniversary. You both were standing on the top of the Spanish steps when the tourist photographer had clicked you with hands interlocked and eyes trained on each other, a perfect heart-warming moment. You both considered yourself lucky as a few months after your trip, sitting on the same stairs was banned. Your fondness with this piece of glass and paper couldn't be described in mere words, at least you always failed to explain your love for it. And now this immortal memory was your solace in nights.

You didn’t clearly remember the day, month or year when you first encountered it. you didn’t remember the exact time when the loneliness you felt when he went away for weeks on tours, the desire to snatch few moments for the both of you, the love that still grew with each day despite not being close was morphed into a guilty conscience of your inability to shower him with the same amount of love and affection you desired when he was away. What started with him ended up with you? Even in med school and his rap rehearsals, you both managed to take some for each other leaving no room for complaints. But as the years passed, you got occupied but you still got by, somehow.  Even when he went to endless tours you took it upon yourself to surprise visit him from time to time so he won't feel alone and for that you even started double shifts to use them for leave. You did what you could until it was impossible to give your all and finally you grew tired of it. It was a year ago when you had your first fight over the issue. Jooheon had taken hiatus and booked a vacation as a surprise but you were unable to take any leave. In his displeasure, he had thrown some harsh words at you but nothing that a sweet love filled apology couldn't fix. But that small argument developed into extended string of many.

"Let's have a baby y/n. It's been more than 10 years since we got together. I think we are ready for an addition" he had proposed, only two days after you were promoted. You were burdened and confused. 

You refused.

He complied.

When few months passed you felt like a liability on the man who wanted nothing more than to have a family with you. So you proposed the end.

"I can’t take this anymore jooheon. It’s not love if it suffocates you. Sign these papers so we can both move on. Please!” you pleaded.

He hesitated but agreed. You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt. You expected him to start another fight with you but more importantly for you! 

That was a month ago and now you were lying on the cold floor crying yourself to sleep to pass another night.

Jooheon??

You had never called him that. It was always joo for you! Since you were 19? 20? He couldn't remember but it had always been joo. 

Ignoring the trivial fights that stretched over for more than a year had been one of the biggest blunders of his life. For what he considered insignificant, you took as warning. The things he remained oblivious of, marked the end of a decade old relationship. As much as he wanted to stop you, he couldn't. How he could be selfish when it came to the person who had loved him selflessly almost half of his life. 

He complied when you pleaded. And his heart ached at the absence of any tears.

I failed her! These words repeatedly played in his head for two weeks. Who else was to blame for the calamity than himself? He was the other pillar of the house that you both had built once. He, instead of protecting it had shattered you as well.

That was a month ago. Following a week after that cursed day, you both signed the papers and had queued your petition due to winter holidays. Year was ending and so his life.  

It was two weeks ago. When he moved out of the house. You had insisted upon shifting into the hospital dorms but he refused. You complied. 

But miracles happen at unexpected places. For him, it held true.

Two weeks ago, you had called him for separation of an old joint account. You had opened your wallet for your id card when he had found his hope. In your wallet laid multiple stamp sized photos of him, some old some new. He was aware that you used to get your favourite photos in stamp size just to carry around but why his! When you had curtly made it clear that your feeling for him had died down.

With chaotic mind he had reached home. The entangled mess that his thoughts were found themselves making straight queues of responses that lined up from his head to heart.

There was a chance you had lied. Why? He didn’t know. The only think he was sure of was that he loved you. And perhaps you did too! And he couldn’t let you further away from him.

Your impulsive actions would be compensated by his own!

In the eyes that hold my beloved, who else can be beheld

5 December.

“I have to attend appointments joo. You just can’t turn this hospital into a picnic spot. If you don’t want to meet the security then don’t ever show your face again!” you warned again.

From the past three days, he has been camping in your office. Though he did wear a mask and a cap, you were still afraid his fans would recognise him causing trouble for you in the hospital.

“Yo! No need to be aggressive woman. I just came to eat your homemade food. I’ll go right after that. You want to eat with me?”

His crinkled eyes were persuading you to agree but always knowing better, you shook your head and left the room after picking up few charts.

Shutting the door with a thud, you left the room. Jooheon’s palm met with the table, the loud noise coming back to pierce through his ears.

Why were you so stubborn!

All he wanted was a response of some sort that, if not a guarantee, would give him an assurance that he was indeed chasing his old y/n. not that lack of any was going to stop him, he was just getting anxious. He was already late. The only way to have you back was to crawl towards you, slowly, cautiously until you were ready for him to run to you.

Till then?

A little effort and lots of waiting!

6 December

You saw him leaning against your car. Again!

“What do you want Jooheon?”

“Go on a vacation with me?”

You rubbed your forehead in frustration, “are you high joo? You cannot ask me to trips! You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. You probably don’t remember but we are not together anymore!”

“Have you lost your mind y/n.” he mimicked. “The divorced is not finalised yet.”

“I don’t know what bit you in a month but all this is not a joke for me joo. I’m not taking divorce to go on fun holidays wi-

“Nothing is a joke for y/n.” his voice suddenly grew serious, “just two weeks is all I’m asking from you.”

“We. Are. Separating! What part of this are you finding hard to understand?”

“Separation to separating? Nice journey baby.” He snarked, standing tall, jamming his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”

 “You owe me few days y/n. I’m just cashing those.” He said nonchalantly.

“We both owe each other many things but you don’t find me demanding any?”

“Three weeks”

Wrapping your arms around yourself and ignoring his requests, you circled the car.

“Two weeks?”

You opened the door and threw the bag onto the seat.

 “Please y/n.” you yapped at the proximity of the voice, gulping at him literally sitting on his knees!

“Joo do-

“I’m not asking for reconciliation. I just wanna spend some time with you. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t wanna leave you with a guilt y/n. please.”

9 December

“Of all the places, why here?  If this is where you want me to waste my 15 precious holidays then sorry I’m out!”

“Can’t you just shut your judgemental mouthpiece and concentrate? Kihyun is about to enter the stage.” He whispered, picking some piece of lint from your jacket.

Yes, you were on a vacation. Your guilty conscience had over weighed your screaming rationality and also because he was too persistent. But this was opposite the vacation he sounded so excited about! No offence to kihyun, you loved the elder but the operas were not your thing and certainly not with a body running on 2.5 hours of sleep and caffeine!

“Look look, there he is!” jooheon slightly jumped on his seat.

You begrudgingly craned your neck to notice the man entering the stage with other two artists. Without further ado, the world-famous opera singers greeted the audience and began singing.

Taking a look at jooheon's face, you observed how his eyes lit up when kihyun's voice reverberated in the auditorium. The seemingly incurable boredom due to the same old melody slowly dispelled as the prominent wrinkles emerged around his eyes, the deep dimples appearing as if his cheeks had been scooped out.

 He was invested in the performance and you in a very particular audience. You thoroughly enjoyed the side view of the exclusive affair until you just couldn’t anymore.

12 December

For the tenth time, you tried your best to push yourself but the heavy, soft clouds forced you further into the bed. You felt snug under the warm blankets, the relief of not having to wake up and run to the hospital at 7 a.m. finally crushing you but in a warm way. 

Kihyun's high notes still echoed in your head as you prepared breakfast. This was the reason you weren’t super excited over watching him being all majestic on the stage. Since college days, you never liked how his voice would live in your head for several days after only an hour of performance. As for the recent one, it was two days ago, the day you last saw jooheon. You had tried to call him the day after with the purpose of throwing a small gratitude speech regarding his gentlemanliness for dropping your sleepy self to home but you weren't lucky enough to receive an answer. You felt annoyed at first for his carelessness towards the so called vacation but your annoyance died down after a much needed 8 hour nap. Now, you were sprawled on the couch eating away the delicious food while catching up on an old show. 

No sooner had you finished the food than you ran for the door. 

"My queen!" He squealed, pouty lips trying to touch you before his needy arms could. You rolled your eyes, opening the door for him, turning around only at the dramatic gasp he let out.

"What?" 

"That's not how you greet your guests missus!"

"Guest?" You scoffed before continuing, "since when joo?" Strolling around the living room, you missed jooheon's perplexed eyes.

"Do you wish to stand there for the whole day?" You jabbed to which his lips merely curved up in the disgustingly adorable half smile that you hated so much.

"Do you want to eat?" You offered

"No. I'm good. Just here for a pick up."

"I could've taken up the surgery Mr. Nam is doing today! You wasted my two days!" You shouted from the kitchen, pouring some juice for him.

"Looks like someone slept well. Your zombie eyes are gone woman" he looked through the glass, clearly poking fun at your swollen eyes. "And please refrain from mentioning scissors and blood for a few days. Also take an extra coat."

"Umm what are we exactly doing?"

"I'll let you know missus!" You groaned at the overuse of the title you were no longer associated with but remained silent. For the time being.

"FUCKIN SNOW TUBING!  You screamed in horror as your now soon-to-be ex hubby parked the car. "You know I hate this so much. What are we doing here?" 

"Chill madam. You won't die. Besides you said you wanted to try it once before dying and according to an ancient saying who has seen tomorrow so let's go."

"No thanks"

"Thank me later baby" he snickered.

"I don't want to wear those already worn tubing pants Joo! Let's just go back." You protested but he merely rolled his eyes at your weak protest and grabbed your arm, dragging you along the railing.

After obtaining the tickets, you both were guided towards the changing area. A man handed you the snow pants wrapped in clear plastic.

“Sir are these pants washed?” jooheon asked, very obviously ridiculing you.

“Yes mister. These clothes are dry-cleaned and sanitized for proper care.” The man explained politely.

Jooheon’s judging brows danced in sync before he left you alone to change. The pants were comfy but you couldn’t say same about the whole tubing thing you were going to experience. You weren’t against snow or the related activities, but the ski slopes were frightening. Even thinking about the steep run, you felt nauseous.

Wintry air blew your hair as you stepped outside of the lodge area and into the white carpet zone. The temperature seemed to be decreasing as you took slow steps for the tubing area. As jooheon took your hand in his, you knew there was no escaping.

************

"Did you take my pictures? I got to post it. Everyone needs to know I went for tubing. They are going to be shocked boy!"

You kept mumbling while sipping your hot chocolate. You were busy staring at the snowman marshmallow melting into the drink that you missed his loving gaze on you.

"Yeah of course everyone needs to know. That the scaredy cat y/n, who's afraid of slopes, after 8 years of resolution, finally went to snow tubing"

"Are we going somewhere else" you mistakenly voiced your hope but feeling embarrassed, immediately drew your eyes back on the mug.

"No. You ain't feeling it but you are pretty overwhelmed. Let’s just buy some pasta and then I'll drop you home. I forgot my glasses so I can't drive too late" 

Your face instantly dropped at his open disregard for your subtle indication. Blowing on the hot drink, you tried to drown his words with loud slurping but the disappointment was evident on your face.

Jooheon took a note of that, suddenly feeling not so exhausted!

And just like that another day was over! 

13 December

The car rolled along the few bungalows that lined up across the apartment building where jooheon was residing since last month. He had called you to pick him up for his car had suddenly stopped working which was quite strange considering how much he cared for his boy toys. But here you were, returning the favour of his kindness! 

"What are you aiming for Joo? This is not a holiday, it's just a city tour. And now a bookstore? Why are you choosing all the boring things in the world! Do you want me to throw you out of my car? You huffed as he mentioned the next destination.

“Bookstores? Boring? For you?" His nose crinkled as if he smelled a burnt egg. 

"I love reading and you know that! But these days I- I don't get enough time to finish a book. Not even in a month! I don't wanna hoard more books and then feel guilty while passing our library" hearing yourself, you understood how frustrated you were over the fact that even after building a mini library to enjoy your love for reading , you weren't able to do the same.

"Yes I know! That’s why I don't understand why you refuse to make some time for yourself. Just like this vacation. You can take some days off. You are no more under strict supervision y/n. You can use your allowed days!"

"I know I'm promoted and all but it comes with a responsibility. I just can't leave everything for juniors and seniors to handle while I enjoy a cup of coffee!"

"Don't tell me they don't get their paid leaves! When they are not considerate enough then why do you bother so much about t- stop? Stop the car right here!"

Startled at his howling, you hit the brakes and parked the car in the permissible area.

"What was that bitch! You wanna kill me or something?" His eyeballs widened into infinity as your chest rose and fell with newfound anger. For a tiny person, you sure had some Good temper. 

Horrified, he sheepishly smiled at you before pointing outside with his finger. Your focus changed scenery when you looked outside, blood calming in an instant, hands smacking your own face in astonishment.

"Oh shit! This is still alive!"

"Cut the profanities kid." 

Some other time you'd have sliced off his tongue for calling you a kid but all your attention was diverted to the store outside. Jooheon chucked to himself as your eyes gleamed with something he had been missing from days and he was simply satisfied. 

The Renaissance book cafe! 

The place you once called your home! Not dramatically but literally as all your time beyond studied was spent there!

The bell chimed as you both entered the cafe. The air smelled of the warm memories that still lived within you but the consciousness that the walled space provided wasn't something you'd have carried with you. 

 It was a nice cosy 2 storey building, owned by an old couple. They both used to sit on the receptionist seat together, making everyone coo at their loveliness towards each other. But nothing remains steady! The old man was sitting alone, reading some comic book, not caring about anyone's arrival.

You exchanged an understanding look with jooheon before entering further. 

The aroma of gold liquid felt oddly similar.

"Came for the books and stayed for the coffee. “You mumbled

"Come for the coffee and stayed for you" He whispered in your ear before walking away. “I need some short stories to detoxify myself.” He announced, stretching his arms not glancing behind. He knew if he did he's found you stunned and glued. But instead you passed him weakly, going straight for the fiction section.

"At least someone has enough time to properly read. Unlike me!" 

Jooheon's heart knew your now dulled expression was not just because of the books. The old couple had been the subject of jooheon's final graduation project but being too busy with rookie career you had happily offered to do the observational worksheets for him. Their smiles, little arguments, interactions with each other and customers had taught you more about life then you'd have had on your own. His arm outstretched on its own but he retracted. He couldn't!

"Hey y/n. Let’s go upstairs!" He said, gripping your hand tightly, dragging you along with him.

"Slow down joo."

Nostalgia warmed your body as your feet led you to the section devoted solely to the majestic 1700s and 1800s. He watched as you grinned, fingers brushing on various titles 

"How much time do we have?" You queried hopefully.

"Umm." He pretended to count, “the whole day" you slightly jumped on your toes at his words before picking up your favourite classic from the shelf.

"Which one do you want?" You asked like your hands weren't on the other copy of the same volume.

"I always read same as you!" He felt offended at you forgetting the most significant detail. 

"Oh ok." 

Shoving his copy to his chest, you made your way to the distant two seater couches. The setting of the table was incredibly inviting. It's was situated on the corner where there was minimum light, perfectly providing you the comfort of home.

 "Oh hear me out y/n. There's a superb paragraph" You shifted your gaze towards him as he sipped on his coffee. "Once upon a time there's was a 19 year old boy named as Lee jooheon. On insistence of his friends, he once visited an amazing coffee shop. The ambience of the shop was so alluring that he decided to take a stroll. No book caught his eye but a certain pair of eyes did. The beautiful maiden's captivating eyes seduced the poor man into daily visits. With each passing day, he found himself getting trapped inside those y/e/c orbs. He wished the woman would spare him a glance or two. He wished she'd call his name one day. He desired to be born as the bookmark in his next life or the book itself! For she'd stare all day lo-

"Well if the young man didn't shut his mouth then the not-so-young maiden would pour the hot coffee onto his head." You whisper yelled as he cowered away dramatically.

"Chill. I'm just trying to have some fun. It's totally cool"

You nodded knowingly before fixing your gaze on the lost words.

Only if you knew what he truly meant by it!"

His eyes had the song that I never sung aloud

16 December

"I wanna stay here. Backstage!" You pouted, pulling shownu by his arm. 

"Jooheon would kill me!" He shrugged.

"Please noni don't wanna stand with those mad fangirls and besides, I have heard your songs plenty of times. What difference it'd make"

He pressed his lips together, eyes glaring at you. "Wow y/n. It's been like 14 months since you attended our last concert. Now you don't wanna even stay in the audience. Where's the y/n who loved the thrill of bass!" His spoke and went on to ruffle your hair.

"14 months?" You chuckled. “No way! Your calculation is so wrong!"

Shownu folded his arms against his chest giving you a no-nonsense look, "then care to explain why your dear husband is shouting at everyone to not cause any problem because his precious wife is attending after 14 months! Even the food delivery man knows that you are here. After 14 months. Precisely"

A wave of guilt coursed through you as you took in his words. You truly didn't remember the last time you went out to support your husband. Another breeze followed at the realisation that jooheon was actively making efforts. For what? You couldn't say but being aware of his little measures, you didn't want him to stop. Why? You couldn't say that either but something tender had made its way to your heart and thawed the ice.

Despite having the VIP seats, the commotion that was going to follow made you anxious. It wasn't that you weren't fond of the monsta's power packed concerts but fangirling over your family members didn't set right onto you or you could say you didn't feel thrill that the rest of audience dealt with. You were glad that kyun's girlfriend was present to provide you the much needed company.

The evening was about to end and you were catching up with mina when suddenly your voices drowned out among the hooting of the crowd.

"Well everyone, someone has a special surprise for you all. This is a complimentary performance dedicated to all of you. Please enjoy and merry Christmas everyone"

The lights focused on the single chair on the centre stage. After a few seconds, the spotlight was occupied by a raven haired man. 

Jooheon

“What is he doing up there? With a guitar?” mina jerked her head in your direction and found you equally flabbergasted by the whole scenario.

“I don’t know.” you barely managed to whisper back.

“I never knew he could play that?”

Mina’s wonder laced look and also of everyone present in the arena was worth capturing. Because they had simply never seen that man with a guitar before. He was always the enthusiastic, wildly alive rapper on stage. His secret acoustic career had always remained exclusive for your ears. Until now. With hair down and a simple hoodie, face rid of any makeup, he mirrored the younger version of jooheon who learned guitar specifically for you.

You noticed how his eyes met yours for a second but darted away. He cleared his throat nervously. Not only you but the whole arena could sense the odd overwhelming feeling that he radiated. The audience seemed all ready to see him in action but you slightly chuckled at how fidgety he was being. You could only hope he won’t run away from the stage.

But instead he exhaled mightily, shifted his posture and the very familiar tune resounded in the quiet place. 

“When was the last time he sang this to me?” you quizzed yourself. 

As he proceeded with the song, you felt like something you treasured for so long was being exposed to the whole world. Unlike others, the lyrics spoke differently to both of you.

You’re still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You’re still the one I want for life

Look how far we’ve come my baby.

You knew, among the sea of people, the only ears he wanted to reach were yours and you wanted nothing more than to scream on the top of your lungs that you indeed would run to him and he was still the one that you needed.

You wanted to. But you chose not to. 

 19 December

Your hand secured in his, he took painfully small steps to match yours as you were too busy ogling at every piece of item displayed in the showrooms. You weren’t interested in buying anything as you had told him earlier and he was pleased with anything as long as he got to be with you. Knowing that you were not keen on spending time outside in the cold, he was initially afraid of your reaction when he had suggested the idea of doing Christmas shopping. But your sparkling eyes had liberated him of the worries. Slipping into the crowd was easy but keeping a pace was getting difficult. It was an hour ago and now his one hand was crammed into his pocket and other one was holding yours. He had a Christmas presents list tucked in his shirt pocket but the warmth of your happy eyes was not something he wanted to lose at that moment. It was early in the evening so having plenty of time on his hands, he was more than happy watching you smiling like an idiot.

“Oh shit! Why didn't you remind me? We have to buy toys for ari!" You reminded him. Aria was minhyuk's three year old daughter and being the only kid in your friend circle she was more than just spoiled. 

"What to get this time?" Jooheon's muffled voice got lost in his mask.

"What?" 

He crouched down to speak in your ear, "I said what to buy?" 

"Oh ok. Umm how about a roller coaster? She can play with it in summers and a Lego set of-

Jooheon was already looking at you when your head snapped up. "Which Lego set should we get?"

"A musical theatre"

"A hospital building"

"No"

You both cut each other and shouted, gaining unnecessary attention from a few passer bys. Slightly bowing to particularly no one, you dragged him by his elbow to enter a small antique shop.

"Why would a 3 yr. old need a hospital building" he sounded bothered by your choice.

"And she ain't going to be a musician either"

"Oh so this is about that hmm? Sorry to burst your bubble but she's going to be a rapper just like me."

"Yeah yeah we'll see-

"Do you want to buy something sir" you both turned inside the shop to find an old man smiling at you both. He bended forward forward in welcome which you both returned immediately. A glance at his face and you were already feeling awkward for barging into his shop without any purpose but before you could say anything, jooheon took your hand and pulled you outside.

"That was so rude joo!" 

"Better than just standing there and looking like thieves caught up in the act" he explained and you merely nodded, getting distracted by the hamleys store in your eyesight.

"There it is!" 

Jooheon chuckled at your cuteness and let himself follow your wordlessly.      

"Didn't you make your list this year?" You asked, counting the sparkles on the night blanket. Of all members, including you, jooheon was always the most excited one on Christmas. He was always the one to write a list of gifts for others. That's why you were sitting on the concrete bench of the shopping centre, bags resting beside you. 

You turned your head to find his eyes unwrinkled, trained on the night sky, face inscrutable under the mask. His was still just like the statue behind you, but his body radiated unprecedented sadness. But you knew him. Hesitantly, your hand reached out to break him from the bubble he had packed himself in. His shoulder trembled under your touch as he finally faced down. 

"What?" He whispered.

"I was saying if you prepared a list for the gifts. We can get them so you won't have to shop alone." 

"Oh!" He evaded your sight as his right hand mechanically clutched his coat just where he heart resided. You could swear you saw a flicker of something on his half covered face but didn't press any further.

"You ain't gonna get anything this time?" You asked carefully.

"No." He politely refused

You couldn't comprehend the sudden change of demeanour. He was fine in the store while surfing through the shelves so you couldn't understand the reason for his foggy behaviour. Maybe he was tired, you thought and suggested he end the day. 

As you both walked the same pathway again, you couldn't help when you passed that antique shop. 

Tugging at his arm, you caused him to stop.

"Umm joo, we were rude to that old man. He must have mistaken us as customers. Don't you think we can get something as an apology and maybe I'd find something good as well!" he nodded in affirmation.

"Oh yeah. We should. But hurry up it's getting colder"

You nodded enthusiastically taking a step back to enter the shop. Jooheon shook his head at your childish mannerism. Following you, he found your awestruck gaze at a wooden Christmas tree. It was a polished piece laced with beautiful ornaments. At the centre was a small golden star sparkling enough to blind someone but his gaze was fixed on something else that shone brighter than the artificial piece. 

"Can we take it joo? We'll place this on the fireplace shelf, right beside your bronze mic."

The smile on jooheon's face dimmed at your words. Despite denying it several times, you were doing it too often for it to be considered an honest error. 

You hummed again pestering for a response but none came.

"Joo! Can we get this?"

"I'll be waiting in the parking lot" before you could respond, he left. You were perplexed at his sudden action so you hurriedly apologized before paying for the tree. 

You were breathless by the time you reached the car. Jooheon's head was resting on the steering wheel, arm limp by his side. Concern clouded your mind at his distressed state as he didn't make any move even after hearing the car window noise. Placing the gift pack on the backseat, you called his name. He immediately lifted his head only to look the other way and that's when you heard a muffled sniffle. You inched forward to rub his shoulder but he swatted your hand away as soon as it made contact with his body. It wasn't rude but still something prickled. 

"Joo! Baby! Are you fine?"

"Ye-yeah. " He finally looked up but adjusted his cap to hide himself. "Let me just drop you home. Do you want to eat something? I'm not hungry so we can get something for your choice" he babbled, shifting the gears.

"What happened joo. Why are you so upset? Are you feeling sick?" A trail of questions left your lips. The more he remained silent, the more you became anxious.

"No I'm perfectly fine."

"Joo-

"I don't wanna talk about it y/n" 

Irritated by his rejection, you resorted on picking your lips instead of paying him any further attention. But your attempts at ignorance went futile when he let out another choked sniffle. For the first time, you felt helpless. Your destination was near and all you could was twist the ring in your third finger, trying to distract yourself. 

"I'll keep the toys with me. I'm gonna visit them tomorrow so I'll give it to them. Take your tree though" 

You were already home!

"Are y-yeah I'll do that. Good night. “You remained rooted in the seat for the next few seconds but when there was no hope left, you whirled around to pick the paper bag from the backseat. Just when you clicked the button to open the door, your peripheral vision caught something on the space above the glove compartment. It was not there earlier! 

Without thinking twice, you touched the paper picking it up, "is it a bill?" You were about to unfold it but jooheon acted faster than lightning to snatch it. He was swift yet failed as your grip was stronger.

"Go away joo. It'd tear!" You twisted your whole body towards the window as he struggled.

"Y/n it's mine." 

He kept trying but you sneakily opened the door and jumped out of the car. You heard a loud curse but without a care for the man, you focused on the task at hand. Nothing was visible due to the natural darkness so you turned on your camera flash to look at it. Jooheon was also out of the car by now.

"Binoculars to the past?" You read out loud the words written in the centre.

"Is this some poetry joo?" If you had looked up, you'd have noticed the drained colour on his face. He was eventually going to tell you about it but he wasn't ready yet. And you kept reading out loud twisting his insides.

"Number one, sleep. Number two, meet up with hyungs, have a coffee with the old couple. Would she agree for the concert? Snow tubing to freak her out, guitar practice? Visit my parents, buy Christmas gifts? And test the waters? Withdraw the application?” your breath quickened as you recited the list. 

“WI-withdraw the application joo? You also agreed to it now I don't see where the problem is-

“You can't see the problem” he interjected in a tired voice. “All this is a major problem y/n. We are divorcing and that's the problem. We'd never eat or live together and that's the problem. We'd never be there for each other and it might not be a problem for you but it is for me! I can't thin- you don't know how much I'm regretting giving in to you. I don't want to live without yo-

You didn't let him complete before you ran inside the building. He called after you but didn't follow.  

 But it was not over for him!

There was animosity, Indifference and anguish

The one who I was parted with had everything

But be didn't have unfaithfulness

Sprawled on the bed with the photo in hand you were missing him more than ever. The intensity of the pain you felt left you shook. You glanced at the ceiling with blurry vision. In the past week, jooheon had managed to bring the same felicity that you had known once. But with each passing tear, it flew away. You had already bid farewell to him three weeks ago. It was already over from your side so why you were still wounded. You were scared that one more day and you'd end up giving in to him. And you wanted everything but to cause him further affliction.

You winced at the constant noise of your phone. It was buzzing and there seemed no end to it. Sniffling sharply, without looking at the contact, you picked it up.

 "Who's I-

"Don't leave me" the wretched sob that pierced through the phone had you dead. Pulling yourself up, you gulped against his words. He was breaking but so were you. Sounded like he had some things to say, you had too.  “Please y/n. Each day is harder than the last. Please, just one more time, give me a chance to make you happy. I won’t fail you again.”

The image of his crushed face flashed through your mind and a moist hiccup shook you up. 

“I’d never fight again. No arguments, I promise! I’ll change myself. Just give me a chance.” 

Disbelief washed over when you heard his words. He was cursing himself for being the source while it all had started with you and not him. Your much needed explanation that followed flowed with struggle. “I- you were doing more than enough. I’m unable to return your love with the same intensity. You can find someone better t-to d-devote yourself to. I can ne-

“Did I ever say you were not doing enough? Did I- I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that. I never meant to.”

“You didn't do anything, joo. It felt the emptiness between us. You must have too! We can both do better than this joo. I proposed divorce after calculating everything. You were not happy anymore joo. I was getting bus-

“I was happy. Very happy. I respected your decision because you said you didn’t love me anymore! You never told me that my supposed happiness was the reason.” he choked out a reply. “You co-could have talked to me. It’s not like I wouldn’t have heard you. We could have found an understanding. There were two people in this relationship y/n. You had no right to decide for me!”

His words echoed through your room. You hid your face in your knees, trying to maintain the tranquillity and he didn't speak for a few minutes, donating you the time to collect yourself.

“You were-” you began, harshly rubbing the tears off your cheeks, “you were suffering joo. You took hiatus, twice, for me and I couldn't manage some time to be there with you. I knew how it felt to be the one waiting joo. I knew how you felt when I wasn't there to share your life.”

“Half of my life, I’ve been away. You never thought about a divorce before.”

“Because I thought everything would be solved one day. But I don't know how we exchanged places. Since last year you were the one waiting for me.  The days are longer when you are suddenly left alone joo.”

“And instead of asking me, you simply decided for me as well. Why did you wait for all these years?”

“I loved you joo. I would never have left you just because you were a little busy.”

“Then why can’t you expect the same from me dammit. Why can’t I spend few days, dinners and nights alone? Why can’t I return you the love you showered me with all these years?”

“You wanted a baby and I was-

“I want a baby with you! Whenever you want and even if you don’t its fine, totally fine. You could’ve said so instead of putting so much pressure over yourself over nothing. This is not the y/n I fell in love with!”

“You should go home joo. It’s getting late.” 

“Why didn't you wait a little longer? Am I not worth it?” 

“It’s already too late for-

“I can’t let your stupid decisions drive our future. It’s not you! It’s we! And I’ve decided to try again. First but not the last. I’m willing to do this again and again until we no longer need it. We can’t live without each other. Don’t lie anymore. Not to me, not to yourself. We can make through. We promised to love each other forever. Let’s fulfil it. Can you do that?” he asked, expecting nothing yet everything. He hated how quiet you were but it meant you were pondering as well. 

You bobbed your head like he could see you. Without much thought, you hang up the phone to let him in, this time for a lifetime.

He was my companion!

4 years later, 23 December, 20:00

"Jooheon where the fuck are you?" 

Despite balancing yourself on the two ladder chair, you still lacked a few centimetres for reaching the top of the tree. Star in hand, you waited for your husband but he didn't respond.

"The fuck Lee jooheon! I said put the star on!" 

"Why are you cursing in front of a baby?" He cried, scrubbing his hands on the apron.

“You are so annoying. Why did you buy a burj khalifa if you weren’t gonna help!” hips jutted out, you questioned him.

“Well I have some questions too! Why are you so short? Why aren’t you using the big ladder? Why am I in the kitchen? Why is Yves eating the carpet?”

The sarcasm fell off his face when you both saw your daughter. She was lying down and was indeed chewing the side of the carpet that she held in her tiny hands. You both sprinted for the middle of the room where she was enjoying herself.

“Bad baby!” as soon as you picked her up, she wailed like you had snatched her favourite toy.

“She’s just 2! Don’t talk to her like that” he reminded as you handed her over. She was a papa’s girl after all. “Go to the kitchen! I’ll stay here.”

You pursed your lips, refusing the offer. Smiling mischievously, he circled around to hit your butt with his knee before coming back to place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You clicked the same cheek as he ran away, making horrible plane noises to make Yves laugh. She was pleased, you weren’t.

“Lee jooheon, go back in the kitchen before I make you regret your decision.” 

Your warning voice echoed through the house as you raced after them. 

And you never ever regretted opening the door that day! 

With sunshine and shade, there was no parting ever.

hey SEVEN! it’s candy. you can call me SIMMI ! the past month was such a happy ride with you. in the beginning i wasn’t aware of your blog but as time passed and we talked more, we found out abt our similarities, our love for jooheon and hoshi’s cheeks (this info is impo) and our interests! my sytherin sister! i’m glad you were assigned to me(this is how the message read). i hope we can continue having fun together. and thank you so much for being the sweetest person. ilysm (and this was not a typical christmas fic but i hope you enjoyed it a bit!) now i can bug you without being terrified of that stupid anon button. MERRY CHRISTMAS CUTIE PIE!

[ihopesocomic]

Just wanted to add another one to the pile and say I'm really enjoying (in a "finally, this is well written and not made into a joke" sort of way, not "this is funny haha" sort of way!) the way Viscious' abusive actions are finally coming to light, idk if y'all did it on purpose but it almost feels like the...timeline, of it, co-incides with Hope herself realising "oh man this is messed up mom why" rather than writing it off as "she loves me really and is just strict".

Not to sound like a me too, but it reminds me of my mom except at least Viscious looks guilty for what she did (time will tell if it's genuine or if she's allowed Jasper to turn her into something a bit worse like mine.), I spent most of my childhood thinking all "strict" parents were like that and it was just normal and her "being protective" and only once I lived away from home for a while and went to therapy did I realise it was neither normal nor okay for her to treat me that way. Either way I think it's been handled very well both narratively and structure-wise, so seriously well done, and thank you for portraying it so accurately ;3;

And Viscious... "your trauma is not an excuse to be an asshole", honey.

Thank you so much for noticing that! We wanted to provide some background to the way Vicious and give shades of who she used to be before Jasper's hold on her became complete other than just jumping in with "yeah, she's abusive and mean just because". And I'm sorry to hear that. The look was supposed to be genuine. Like a 'holy shit, did I REALLY just do that??' feeling. Vicious knew she crossed a line but she immediately felt the need to blame-shift and justify what she had done rather than apologise and take Hope's side over her mate's. Her transition from "strict" parent to abusive was also deliberate because a lot of abusive parents straddle the line between "strict" and abusive and try and excuse their actions as the former, like you've pointed out. I'm glad you're able to recognise the difference now and that what you went through was not acceptable, because abusers screwing with your perception like that and making you feel like it's YOUR fault and they "just want what's best for you" is just repulsive. Extremely awful and controlling parenting.

[project-ohagi]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader {Fantasy AU}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Crimson.

A most enchanting crimson. That was the sight awaiting your rest-deprived eyes, as they dipped in and out of the mountain springs connecting the queendom of the faeries to this mortal coil. Had you happened upon a particularly beautiful fairy, or were you perhaps still dreaming? There were so many emotions swimming amid those starry pools...anger, mystification, irritation, suspicion, even a hint of nervosity. But only a hint. It was innocent, it was vulnerable, and it certainly didn't match what he chose to display. Actually, it reminded of the children who made merry in the castle's courtyard; the ones who weaved flowers into crowns and were excited for you to read to them tales of faraway lands, of dragons and masters, of mages and knights.

Well, if this man who knelt before you belonged to the plane of reality, and wasn't a tempting illusion...might you have been transported into one such tale? You reached out a hand, almost unwittingly, to ghost your fingers across his skin. It was pale and smooth. He made no effort to cease your actions, instead watching, as if an astral projection, as your fingers wandered the entirety of his face. His nose scrunched in mock disgust, lips silently begging to be claimed.

How could a seemingly small and fragile woman incite such a fierce reaction within him? He didn't understand, but he wanted to.

And then, a seraphic voice called, to snap him from a pleasant reverie. It took a few seconds to realise that you were its origin. "Um...my apologies - I must be disturbing you! B-But...may I ask...where exactly am I?"

"...My land." He grunted, after some careful consideration.

Was your ignorance genuine, or a mere deception? No-one arrived at Bakugou's territory without the intention to usurp him, or to slaughter him alongside the countless dragons who inhabited the land. But...would a frail-looking girl be selected for such a dangerous task? It was unlikely - though the possibility couldn't be discounted, for safety's sake.

"Your land? Are you perhaps the king here? Ah, what should I call 'here'? And, please pardon the intrusion! I-I'm not certain myself how I wound up on the forest floor. Not - not in foreign land, at least. I remember talking to the elves...oh, my goodness! I must have succumbed to sleep. How foolish of me! Father always warned against sleeping in the forest! Oh...what if there is a changeling replacing me right now, in the castle? What am I to do?"

"Quit mumbling. It's annoying." Those four words immediately flustered you, but he continued. "...You don't know how you got here? And...what's that about a castle? You royalty or something?"

With a quick gesture of affirmation, you replied, "My father is King (K/n)...not an awfully nice man, but saying anything more could be considered treason. Rest assured, he is not above executing one of his own."

Bakugou's expression soured. "That's fucked up."

Yours erupted in shock and awe. "T-That word...you use it? Is it not too vulgar?"

"Hah? Do I look like a gentleman, to you? Sorry Princess, but I curse as and when I like." He puffed out his chest, secretly hoping that you might compliment his muscles.

"'Princess'?" You gazed forlornly at the dress you wore. "This is your land. I'm no princess here."

You didn't wish to offend this man, especially not when the spears and swords you anticipated weren't being pointed at your throat. Bakugou's tongue was sharp, his responses crude and unrefined. Despite this...there was a warm aura emanating from him. And, from the way he started patrolling the length of the cave (as you soon recognised it), he was focused, protective. Even as the idle conversation whiled away the hours, even though he never really abandoned your side (whether this was due to doubt or care, you remained oblivious), he made a point of checking and re-checking, for any anomaly. When the western wind targeted you quite harshly, Bakugou forfeited his fur-lined cape. He draped it over you, grumbling all the while.

Though, your keen eyes caught the faintest of shivers, and before he could protest, you wrapped the cape around your bodies, snuggling into him. Bakugou's heart fluttered. His mind was failing to comprehend this new feeling, this sense of...home, and the sudden need, no - urge to provide and cherish. The small breaths against his chest, the hair tickling his skin...

Bakugou had little experience with human women. Until your arrival, the dragons were his only companions. Well, maybe the merchants (Ashido and Kaminari) could be classified as such? Definitely not that wannabe-knight, Deku, nor the fully-fledged knight, Iida, nor the Mage, Uraraka...

What if you were special? His pair - his mate? During your slumber, in the absence of any words, any reason for being here...he guessed either a fairy, a witch or a succubus, for your breed. But faeries were blessed with wings, and witches never ventured without their brooms. As for a succubus...you seemed too easily-flustered. The disbelief still permeated his mind. You, a creature of such ethereal beauty, were human? Like him? It was a simple mistake, to imagine you as something greater. His fixation had been instant. He knew what he wanted. Whether it would prove to be love, or some other, unfamiliar emotion...well, he wasn't renowned for patience, but...this was surely something to cultivate, something that required natural growth and progression.

Hopefully, your departure wouldn't be swift. Hopefully it would be messy, complicated, and eventually you would realise your true home: right here, by Bakugou's side. Together, you would spin a tale of love and devotion for the ages. Hopefully. If you didn't choose to leave.

If you left, if this feeling faded...what dreadful emptiness might consume him? He wondered about your interests, relatives (were you betrothed?), friends, future plans...he needed to sync your dreams and passions. You were perfect for him, so he needed to be perfect for you! This was his final, grumpy thought, before sleep lured him closer, closer, closer...

The morning brought forth a barrage of questions and quandaries, like: where the fuck were you? And: when had you abdicated his side? "Shit! Fuck! Shit! DEKUUU!"

"Hm?" Hearing the commotion, you poked your head around the corner.

"Who is 'Deku'?"

"Tch. Nobody. Where were you? When did you leave? Why didn't you wake me? You could've been hurt!" He scolded, loathing the slight wince caused by his raised voice. "...Sorry. I was just...urgh, nevermind!...Did you cut your dress?"

Sure enough, the distasteful garment (distasteful only because he wished to rip it off your body), once trailing on the ground, now settled just above your knees. "Yes! I would rather something shorter, anyway. Um...did I...does it not look..."

"It's better. If it's long, you'll just trip over stuff..." There lay a subtle blush upon his cheeks.

It went unnoticed. "Oh, thank you! I was hoping for practical and cute! And, um...I shouldn't intrude on you for too long, but perhaps I can be useful? I can cook...although that is probably all I can do."

"'Cause you'll wanna go home soon, I guess."

You laughed the most glorious melody. "That place is not my home."

Bakugou couldn't allow the silence to fester, lest this golden opportunity be wasted. "I can find work for ya. The dragons always need feeding...I can cook and clean, so don't fuss over that."

"B-But...I should repay you somehow!" Your whining flipped a switch in his heart.

I can think of a million reparations, but I can't say a single one of them...God, was I always this useless?

He groaned. "Like I said, I'll find something. You just...stay here for now. I'll go and catch breakfast, since I couldn't do that last night."

"I'm so sorry!"

While you wallowed in undeserved shame and guilt, Bakugou rejoiced at the memory of your conversation - all the monologuing, that transitioned into stumbles and stutters when you spoke for an extended time...the housewife air surrounding you (definitely a product of Bakugou's delusion), the way you smiled and laughed...It was ecstasy, Heaven, warmth! It was everything, and so, so much more! It was pure...

He started collecting little trinkets alongside the food - things he thought you might appreciate. Gifts, if you will. He imagined you smiling brighter, wider than before. He imagined receiving a kiss, whether a shy peck or a fiery lip-lock. He imagined decorating your neck with a dragon's teeth necklace, and showing off your bond to the world. If you would...accept him, accept everything about him, then...bliss would rain upon his heart forevermore.

She'll be my mate. She has to be! I won't let her be with anyone else...! I'll lay my claim soon enough, just you wait!

[Word Count: 1452]

[excitedlysuffering]

Hey! I have another request!! Could you do a Sebastian Michaelis x reader please?!?! Sebastian ends up bumping into reader who he thought was dead long ago, only to realise they have turned into a demon and Sebastian's long suppressed emotions and feelings for reader begin to reappear?!?!

Exception- Sebastian Michaelis X Reader

I had a lot of fun writing this I hope you like it🥺👉🏾👈🏾 and holy shizballs it’s like 1.3k words??

You hated everything about London. There was nothing redeemable about this godforsaken hole of a city in your eyes. The humans were volatile, slow, and much too arrogant considering their low status on the totem pole.

The main reason you hated humans, however, was due to the fact that you used to be one. Now you lived an immortal life as a demon.

It had been decades since then, and yet you still roamed the broken cobblestone streets of London. There wasn’t a lot tethering you to the smog-filled city, just old memories, and your old friend Adrian, or Undertaker, as he liked to be called.

Although, he was a Shinigami, and you a demon, he was the only one who understood your plight, and you, his. You didn’t hate being immortal, you quite enjoyed it really, but there was always an ache you felt. You hardly remembered what it felt like to be human, but you assumed what you were feeling was longing.

Back before it happened, you had accidentally met a demon. He didn’t have a name, nor did he give you one. He was everything you had been taught to avoid, but how could you when he was as alluring as he was?

He had warned you that bad things happened to those who fell for demons, who followed them to the depths of their domain, but you hadn’t cared. What had you to live for anyway? You didn’t regret your choice, not in the slightest, but still, you had that… feeling. What was it called it again? Purposelessness…?

Of course, you had Adrian but you almost found yourself missing the raven-haired demon. Yet, you had long given up on seeing him, it had been almost half a century, after all.

With speed only the supernatural could possess, you made your way to the Undertaker’s shop. You threw open the door uncaringly, in the way you usually did before sauntering in.

You immediately frowned, upon seeing visitors, but paid them no mind. “(Y/N)! You’ve come to visit me, hehe~” You accepted the familiar, bone-crushing hug as it came, allowing a small smile to grace your face. “Hello, Undertaker.”

“(Y/N)... (L/N)?” You startled at the velvety voice, pulling away from the Shinigami’s embrace as he giggled as if he knew something you didn’t. Two pairs of magenta met in what could only be called a stare-off.

“Sebastian, you know her?” A young voice called out. You turned your nose up at the boy. You never did like children, what they lacked in respect (which was a lot) they made up in ignorance.

You crossed your arms stiffly. “I don’t know a Sebastian, and my last name is not (L/N).” It wasn’t a lie, technically. You had nothing tying you to your family since they were all dead, so you had dropped your surname. Demons had no use for familial ties, anyhow.

He stood up as hands, belonging to Adrian, pushed you forward towards the tall demon. You snarled at the grinning reaper, before focusing once again on the ravenette.

You refused to get your hopes up. He had left you alone during your transition, you had no use for him, even if you did happen to miss his presence. He frowned, clearly displeased. “You might not recognize the name, but I know you recognize me, (Y/N).”

The blue-haired child stepped towards, his frown prominent. “Who are you and how do you know Sebastian?” Your signature demonic red eyes narrowed in pure disgust.

“Do not take a tone with me,” You hissed, your hand flying towards his face at extreme speeds. Before your palm could connect, a hand wrapped around your wrist, causing your movements to cease.

“Please, excuse my young master. He means you no harm.” ‘Sebastian’ smiled, releasing your hand from his grip. You scoffed, stepping closer to an entertained Undertaker.

“So this is what you’ve been up to?” A small smirk spread across his annoyingly flawless face. “So you do remember me?” You crossed your arms, utterly unamused. “Difficult to forget the reason I’m immortal.”

He stepped closer to you, but you swiftly stepped back. “I thought you were dead,” He replied softly. You cocked an eyebrow. “Nice to see you cared so much.”

His eyes glinted dangerously and the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. “Do not assume things. You don’t know what I felt.” You did your best to ignore the long-forgotten shivers climbing up your spine. It had been much too long since you had felt such things.

Arms snaked around your waist from behind and you didn’t have to think twice to realize it was Adrian. “Mind explaining everything, darling?~” You rolled your eyes fondly. “As if you don’t already know.” His laugh confirmed your suspicions.

You turned back to Sebastian. “Then what did you feel?” You questioned, voice flat and untelling. He stepped closer to you and due to the arms holding you in place (Adrian seemed to have an ulterior motive in your opinion) you couldn’t step away again.

“I thought I would never see you again. A mere human who understood me. I never thought that would happen. And then you disappeared.”

You averted my eyes at the word ‘disappeared’. It was more like pulled down to the darkest corners of Hades. “I always assumed your warnings were meaningless attempts to frighten me, foolish as it was. Now here I am, a creature of hell just as you said.”

His hand reached out and twirled a strand of your hair as Undertaker moved away from you. “Had I known you were transitioning into a demon, I would’ve been there.”

You gave him a strange look. “Why? You liked me because I was human.” He dropped the piece of hair, his slender fingers finding your chin instead. “You’re assuming again, (Y/N),” he murmured. “Then explain to me, so I don’t have to.”

Everyone around you seemed to fall away as his face neared yours, the edges of his bangs tickling your cheek. “Don’t play stupid with me, I know you understand me.”

The same intense stares that you had loved so dearly so long ago, now made you turn away. “It’s been decades. I didn’t even know your name.” He frowned. “I know you still feel something, kitten, or else you wouldn’t still be here. I’m correct aren’t I?”

You grit your teeth, the pet name brought back memories of happier times, times when it was simple. That time was not now.

“You know it isn’t the same, for either of us.” He backed away, an irritated expression adorning his face. It didn’t suit him, in your opinion. “Of course it isn’t,” he started, “you’re immortal, you won’t wither away.”

You searched his expression uncertainly, although you weren’t quite sure what you were looking for. “We came here for a re-!” Adrien’s manicured hand covered the boy’s mouth, stifling his words.

“How do I know I can-” “Trust me?” Sebastian finished smiling a little. “You don’t. I am a demon, after all. But you are as well. We were made for each other, admit it.” Instead, you smirked as he invaded your personal space once again.

“Have demons always been this cliche or is it just you?” The devious grin brought back the pleasant chill in full force.

His arms encircled you, drawing you close to his chest. “I’ll make an exception for you, kitten,” He whispered teasingly. You grinned as his lips narrowly brushing yours. “I’ll take it, demon.” Maybe London wasn’t so irredeemable, after all...

[bbnibini]

The Angels They Called “Azrael” (The First and Current Azrael’s Backstory) (part 1/present Azrael general HCs here)

The First "Azrael"

Dealing with the Celestial War's aftermath had been a painful yet needed transition to normalcy---friends and family were lost, ties were broken and grief laid heavy on everyone's hearts. Michael did all he could to reduce casualties, worked harder than he ever did yet he still felt empty. Azrael is gone and no amount of prayer can ever get her back. So many more deaths of course resulted from the war, but his biased feelings couldn't help but concentrate on an old friend. She had been one of the first angels to be appointed to Heaven like he was. They went through a lot together and also grieved over friends long passed.

To think the Angel of Death herself would succumb to her own domain---he had to thank his millennia of experience to at least keep a trained stoicness. If he shows even an ounce of disturbance, the already low morale in Heaven would only worsen.

He only wished his former brothers were safe and the fallen angel they protected as well.

Would it be devilish of him to wish happiness upon one of the instigators of the Celestial War? No matter how hard he tried, he could never seem to hate Lucifer. He was a friend. Family. No matter which form he would take, his affections for him and his siblings would never change. Just because they had taken a new form didn't mean that they are evil---straying perhaps, selfish even. But their hearts would always carry the kindness and gentleness of an angel's love: unselfish, encompassing as if emulating God themself. He'd rather look at the brighter side of things than lament over what had been lost. After all, their rebellion encouraged reformations of Heaven's outdated system.

"A succession system"

Expected mixed responses--after all, he had been refining this proposal with Azrael for years. Contingency plans had been laid out in case this scenario happens. Azrael had always been fussy like that, and now looking back, he was rather thankful.

Training successors upon one's death and allowing their protégé to take over their name? It was unheard of until now. Death was almost a foreign concept to angels, especially ones of the current generation. They had never experienced the clumsy yet thoughtful creations of their one and only God, His stumbles, His failures and almost childlike curiosity and innocence. His love however remained unchanging even as the war ended, listening with a kind and attentive ear despite the sea of protests emerging from His own 'child's' ridiculous proposal.

"With all due respect Michael, your suggestion is already unheard of, yet am I hearing this correctly? A human successor? Are you out of your mind?" cried Metatron.

Understandable. Humans are excellent vessels for sin, so easily swayed and corrupted by evil yet loved nonetheless by their own Creator. Undeserving are most of them of His mercy, repeating mistakes of their ancestors in a tiring and seemingly endless cycle. However...their overwhelming capacity for change was indubitable. An angel will always be guided by the light, unquestioning of God's teachings and promising eternal servitude. Demons are the opposite---capable of only evil and sin, tempting and beguiling with no chance of redemption. Humans however are capable of both, teetering on the edges of good and evil and paving their own path, their own definition of morality: the embodiment of hope.

"Only the purest human soul will be chosen--carrying the goodness of God, one must have overcome the hardships evil placed upon them untainted." he repeated the words of Azrael in her proposal and even passed on her dying wish to the council. He saw a smile faltering from one of the familiar faces of his brothers, that of the young Simeon observing their discussions with curious interest. Well.

At least one of them was considering it.

Needless to say, it took numerous revisions of the succession proposal before it was finally approved. As promised, a soul was chosen from the humans to ascend---the purest of souls, untainted despite numerous hardships.

He had no name of his own, thrust in the throes of their own war as a young soldier meant to be forgotten in his passing. He received disdain and tasted isolation for his unusual features, yet he carried not even an ounce of hatred in his body for the ones who persecuted him. They called that nameless child ██████████.

That child never learned of love nor hatred---the blankest and purest of souls. A war child whose innocence accounts for his own inexperience. He died too early to learn of good and evil.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Michael was beginning to realise that fulfilling his friend's dying wish might be a mistake.

Present Azrael

The only known human protégé. To respect the former Azrael's dying wish, he had been chosen as the new Azrael to carry out his predecessor's duties and legacy.

Was originally a war child. Had the "purest soul" in his time largely due to the fact that he died too early to be influenced by right and wrong.

Upon ascending and being a complete Celestial, his body was forced to take an adult form (most likely causing him a lot of pain and mental strain), although his childlike innocence remained intact. Michael and his brothers tried their best to delay his duties as an Avatar of Virtue due to this.

He is the first and last human to ever be considered as an angel protégé. This is the compromise the Council of Angels have decided upon by considering the first Azrael's dying wish. The current Azrael believes that that may change if he continues "doing his best".

Isn't very good with distinguishing his emotions. Being an Angel of Death could often times be really stressful and taxing, and the only indication that Azrael is ever affected by it is when he asks his brothers why "he's feeling really tired". Oftentimes, he would just suddenly cry and he doesn't really know why.

He feels like because he was originally a human, he has to work extra hard to keep up with his brothers and colleagues. He has a tendency to overdo it, however.

Is extremely adept at combat because of his past life. He often prays for the enemies he had killed in battle and mourns for their death, thinking "No one deserves to be forgotten." He believes that if he mourns for them, at least their lives will never be in vain.

Started liking sweets because of Michael. His favourite food are the macarons the Angel of Charity had baked for him as a "welcome present". He also likes eating pancakes with his older brother, Uriel.

Speaks in a very formal tone with everyone. It's become a habit at this point.

Despite having an adult body, he is still a child at heart. Michael says it will take a while for his mentality to adjust with his body. (I don't really want to give a clear age of when human Azrael died, but I'd say before he even reached teenage years). He has the innocence and the mentality of a slightly pedantic young child.

Despite being forced to grow up twice in his two lifetimes, Azrael doesn't hold any resentment. When asked by Michael if he wishes to retain memories of his past life, he answered, in a very nonchalant way: "I do not really mind either way, big brother."

He hasn't experienced what it was like to be a child in his past life so he decided to relish his more peaceful times in Heaven. He happily experiences all that heaven has to offer and is a very willing learner.

He remembered being a servant in his past life before being deployed into war. His master was an artist and he learned how to paint and sculpt by observing him(although he only put it to good use once he became an angel because he wasn't allowed to touch anything in his master's workshop). Handicrafts just came naturally to him once he became an angel. He says "It's very relaxing".

Having experienced hardships in his past life, he learned how to value the present. He was unsmiling and expressionless when he was brought to heaven, but by opening up to his brothers, he slowly learned how to smile from the bottom of his heart.

Considers Luke as his closest friend. They met each other as cherubs in angel school. Azrael is one of the reasons why Luke wants to improve his baking skills.

He was persecuted for his unusual features when he was human. He doesn't hold any ill will to those who hurt him, but because of his experiences, he resents his eye colour as it reminded him of blood and war. Similarly, he doesn't like how red eyes are quite a common physical feature for demons, especially considering the lives he had taken in war. It just holds too much coincidental implications, and he'd rather not consider the thought.

He sees his second life as a lifelong atonement for his past sins. Now that he is an angel, he wanted to act the part and treat everyone with kindness and warmth--- something that even he wasn't privy to. It doesn't mean that he couldn't learn though, and he rather looked forward to it.

[stories-sometimes]

I’ve Made A Huge Mistake {1/?}

Peter Parker x Reader, Quentin Beck x Reader 

Summary: Peter just wanted to enjoy his trip to Europe, maybe even confess his feelings to his best friend. But along came a mysterious new hero to ruin all of those plans. Peter and his class are aged up and in college.

Warnings: Violence in later chapters, manipulation, age gap

Word Count: 2087

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

~~~ 

The blip had been stressful, college had been stressful, overall it was pretty safe to say Peter’s life was ridiculously stressful at the moment. He was hoping this trip to Europe would help him blow off some steam. And who knows, maybe it will be the perfect time to tell his best friend that he was madly in love with her. So there he was, standing in an airport with Ned, waiting for her to show up. Finally she did, looking effortlessly perfect. She’d always been pretty, and he’d probably always been in love with her, but now she was on a whole other level. And somewhere along the transition between schools she found an affinity for short skirts, which Peter (along with the majority of the male (and some female) population on campus) firmly believed was purely to torture him. 

“Hey, you look great,” Peter said, feeling a strong sense of pride as he watched her face turn a couple shades of red darker. “You excited?”

“Yeah, I really need this break.” She responded.

“Same, wanna just be a normal person for once.”

“So no Spiderman?” Peter shook his head. “What are your guy’s plan then?”

“Single bachelors in Europe.” Ned answered, Peter watched her carefully, trying to figure out if her face did drop a little or if it was just his imagination.

“Well that’s his plan.” Peter mumbled.

“What’s your plan then?”

“I don’t know, just gonna see what happens.”

“Alright, I should probably go check in on MJ.” She said as she walked away. Peter watched her, admiring the way her legs looked in that skirt. 

“Single bachelors in Europe.” Ned tried to remind him.

“Yeah, that’s your plan.” Peter answered absentmindedly. The plane journey was reasonably uneventful, minus her falling asleep on Peter’s shoulder and him trying to make sure his brain didn’t short circuit. And somehow Ned managed to start dating Betty, neither her nor Peter could figure that one out.

They finally reached Venice, and even though their hotel was a little shoddy, the city itself was more beautiful than any of them could have imagined. The three friends all split up, Ned went off with Betty, she went off with MJ and Peter was walking around the city on his own, aimlessly wandering around the old streets. One small jewellery store ended up catching his eye. It was down a small alley, a good walk away from the Grand Canal. There was a delicate silver necklace with a detailed, glass daisy charm.

It reminded him of when they were kids. How she thought they were the prettiest flowers and how he would search round parks and the occasional crack in a sidewalk for them. He’d bring them to May, who would help him tie a bow around them. Then the next day he’d give them to her at school, feeling the greatest satisfaction a kid could possibly experience when he saw her face light up. It would be the perfect gift to go along a lifelong love confession. 

Peter entered the store. Lucky for him the necklace was within his budget. He carefully placed the package in his pocket, planning out how to tell her how he felt in his head. He strolled out of the store, an extra little pep in his step.

“Boh.” Mj said, popping up behind Peter, closely followed by her.

“What?”

“Boh. It’s the perfect word in the world. Italians created it, and I just discovered it.” MJ explained.

“She’s very proud of that.” She said, smiling at MJ’s unusual excitement.

“What does it mean?”

“That’s the thing, it can mean a million things. It can mean ‘I don’t know’, ‘get out of my face’, ‘I don’t know and get out of my face’. It’s the best thing Italy ever created, except for maybe espresso.”

“Oh, so you’ve been drinking espresso.”

“How did you possibly guess that.” She jokes making Peter laugh. MJ sticks her finger up in response to her two friends. A man came up to the three of them before MJ shooed him off with a simple boh.

“Boh is my new superpower. It’s like the anti aloha. I was born to say this word. So, what’s in the bag?”

“Um, boh.” Peter responded.

“Nice.” MJ smiled before walking away after she spotted Brad, leaving Peter and her alone.

“You think they’ll get together?” She asked Peter, watching MJ and Brad interact.

“No!” Peter said surprisingly abruptly, “why, did she say something to you?”

“She likes him, thinks he’s really nice. But she’s not ready for a relationship at the moment, the world’s too messy for that right now.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t want them getting together. Don’t think they’re right for each other.” Peter said.

“Oh.” She said, feeling her heart drop a little. Why did he care so much about MJ’s love life?

“So you two have a nice time?” Peter smiled.

“Yeah, the city’s insanely pretty and I also got to find out how much pigeons like MJ.” She replied, trying to lighten the mood and ignore the jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Wait … what?”

“Yeah, I’ve got pictures.”

“You have got to show me.” There was multiple photos of an awkward-looking MJ covered in a stupid amount of pigeons. In front of them a hoard of crabs scurried out of the water. 

“Whoa,” she said, moving her phone away to watch the animals. “What the hell?” All the water around them began to flow towards the middle of the river. Seconds later the water exploded above the river. People quickly began to panic, running away from the water. Ned and Betty slammed into her and Peter, scrabbling out of their gondola. The water soon formed a giant-like monster.

“What is that?” Ned asked, panicked as he scrambled out of the boat.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Peter shouted back, “You just need to get them out of here.” He gestured to Betty and MJ. Ned nodded, guiding the two girls far away from Peter. 

“Do you have your suit?” She asked him. He shook his head. “Why not?”

“I’m on vacation.” She glared at him. “You need to get out of here, don’t worry about me just get to safety.” He said, holding onto her shoulders protectively. She nodded.

“Take this.” She said, pulling out a masquerade mask from her bag before kissing his cheek and running off. He blushed before regaining his composure and placing the mask on his face. The monster smashed through the surrounding buildings sending rubble raining down on the fleeing civilians. Streets flooded with water as parts of the monster flew out to attack. Peter put on his web shooters and shot out at the monster. The web went straight through it. You fucking idiot, he thought to himself. He spotted a bridge, vaulting over poles sticking up in the river to get to the higher ground. Before he could prepare himself for a fight he was hit by a blast of water. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a masked figure fly down, shooting green beams at the water. The figure was dressed in green and golden armour with a fishbowl-like mask. Peter watched the mysterious guy fight the monster, the water thrashed out, hurling the man into the water. Peter panicked, climbing up the side of a building to get a better view of the situation. The man somehow remained reasonably unharmed and flew back up to carry on the fight.

“Hey!” Peter shouted, getting the attention of the man, “Let me help, I’m really strong and I’m … sticky.”

“I need to draw it away from the canal.” The man shouted, flying towards the city centre, luring the monster away from its source of power. As the man flew away Peter swung up to a bell tower that was about to fall - potentially about to crush a number of civilians, including a cluster of his classmates. He shot his webs to more stable buildings, using all his strength to prevent its collapse, ignoring the pain as the bell slammed into his head. He manages to pull the tower back into place, shooting a series of webs to keep the tower up. He stood up to watch the man formed green mist around the monster, repeatedly hitting the monster with it. The monster weakened, losing water and power. The man flew up to closer to the tower Peter was on. Green triangles sent beams out at the monster until it was about to be defeated. Right before the monster fell Peter spotted her standing on a bridge behind the monster.

“My friend’s on that bridge.” Peter shouted, the man looked from Peter to her, frozen in fear, cemented to her spot on the bridge. The man sent one final blast out at the monster and as it fell towards the bridge, the man flew out towards it. The remaining water crushed the bridge below it, leaving her screaming as she began to fall down into the water. Peter felt the world crumbling down around him, he’d lost too many people, he couldn’t risk adding her to the list. He began to swing out towards her, but before he could reach her he saw the man dive into the water, soon emerging with her in his arms. Peter relaxed instantly, dropping down a safe distance away from his friends. He watched as the man held tightly onto her as he placed her down on the ground. The college students all cheered for the man as he saved their friend.

“You alright?” The man asked her, continuing to hold her as she coughed up the water. He had one hand on her waist and the other placed high up on her leg, dangerously close to the end of her skirt.

“Yeah, I can’t thank you enough. I thought that was going to be the end.” She said, smiling admiringly up at him. Her hands also remained holding onto him as though if she let go she’d be back in the water.

“I couldn’t let you die on my watch.” He said, his hand leaving her waist to push the wet hair out of her face. She blushed, looking down at his other hand. Only then did he seem to realise how high up her leg his hand was. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She replied, the same grateful tone in her voice. She pulled down her skirt slightly as he helped her up.

“Here, take this, it’ll warm you up a little.” He said, removing his cape and wrapping it around her shaking shoulders.

“You sure you don’t need it?”

“I’ve got a spare one, you need it more than I do.” He pulled the cape tighter around her, he placed a hand on her cheek which she instantly leaned into, “stay safe.” He said before finally flying away, waving to the cheering crowds around him. Peter had watched the two’s interaction from afar, a strong feeling of guilt consuming him that he wasn’t there to help him. He had vowed the day she found out he was Spiderman that he would always be there to protect her, save her from any harm that may come her way. And if it wasn’t for this mysterious saviour, she could have easily been dead. Peter tried to push these feelings aside. His classmates now all surrounded her, checking she was alright, asking about the man, failing to hide their envy of the small interaction. Peter walked slowly back to the group, checking that the necklace was still intact. Thank God it was.

“Peter!” She shouted, running over to him and wrapping her arms and the cape around him. “Thank God you’re alright, I was so worried. How are you?” She buried her head in his neck.

“Hey, hey, this isn’t about me. You almost drowned, I should be asking you that. I promised to protect you and I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologise.” She said, lightly smacking him on the chest. “You had other things to deal with.”

“I just can’t lose you as well.” Peter hung his head.

“You’re not going to, I promise.” She smiled at him, he looked up at her through his lashes. Her heart swelled and she almost hated him for how adorable he looked right now. “Who was that guy?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

[rairaidango]

SEEDS THAT GROW - Tobisaku, Madasaku, Ita(masaku)

CHAPTER 2 - BEST FRIENDS

1

First chapter garnered more attention than I had expected it to ngl! But it felt nice to know ppl like wtv im trying out here. Here is chapter 2! Just a reminder I’m not a creative writer (nor do I write well at all lol). This is just fun for me and allows me to focus on something new during quarantine :) It’s pr slowburn but focuses on a lot of Sakura’s thoughts and feelings. (and her amazing friendship with Ino) 

TW : mentions of depression, anxiety, self-loathing, etc

“Yeah I’ve definitely seen you at the club before!” Itama pointed at her, mouth wide open in a boyish smile.

There was no way this Itama boy was that boy. Was there? 

Sakura’s eyes were eagle wide but she quickly shook it off with an awkward laugh. She really couldn’t be sure if it was him, but maybe it was? There really was a possibility. 

“Ah, you know maybe! I can’t recall if I have seen you on a night out though.” she tried to calm her nerves down with even more awkward laughter, but she caught Itachi’s eyes. He could see she was a little uncomfortable.

“Maybe you were like really drunk or something but I’ve definitely seen you-”

“Itama, you’ve seen everyone at the club.” Itachi rescued her. She gave Itachi a silent look of thanks. He only nodded in reply. “And you know, you talk too much man.” He slapped the Itama boy on the back.

“Was just trying to be friendly!”

“More like annoying. Why are we friends again?” Shisui tapped his finger on his chin comedically before laughing and receiving punches. 

The boys were strangers to her, with maybe the exception of Itachi, but she barely ever spoke to anyone outside of her girl group. She never allowed herself to talk to guys casually, and there was a reason for that as stupid as some people felt about it- but it made sense to her at the time and she feared getting close to people.

So this, this, this was nice. And this was a good thing, a casual conversation with friendly guys. She smiled at the thought, because she missed the times when she had close male friends. 

“Alright, everyone’s here according to the attendance list.” Madara announced whilst shuffling the papers in his hand. He pointed to the board making sure to point out the layout of the plans for tomorrow. “The introductory session is tomorrow and we’ve all assigned you to specific roles. We have a large group of eager college students who want to learn more about the wondrous world of medicine and medical practices. If you look at the board you’ll see about 5 groups, each group having 10 students. And two of you will essentially be leading each group and bring them around our campus, then the facilities in our building. This tour will all happen after the presentation that I and Izuna will prepare. Lecture hall 2 alright. You should ALL be there before students arrive. Is that clear?” 

The many student volunteers nodded. 

“Do we have to do anything before the talk?” Itama raised his hand and spoke. 

“Usher in and organise the students coming into the hall. Just make sure everything’s done in an orderly fashion. Knowing you Itama...please do this and work with Itachi.” 

Madara knew Itama? Sakura quirked her brow glancing ever so slightly at the boy with the badly done highlights. She wondered what relationship they had for Madara to speak so casually of him. 

“Will this be sent to us through email?”

“Of course, you’ll receive the plans, groups, layout and even the presentation when you leave the union. We professors aren’t stupid enough to think any of you, or one of you, could remember this stuff.” A playful smirk plastered on Madara’s face was all it took for Sakura to understand that he was probably only referring to Itama. “Alright 3.30pm tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.”

Who were they to each other?

“You know, I get why nii-san finds your uncle annoying and doesn’t like him very much.” Itama grumbled. 

“Eh well to be honest, I get your brother.” Shisui shrugged in response. “Madara likes Itachi though, because he’s a ‘prodigy’.” Itachi only smiled at the mention of his name.“He’s your professor right uh-sorry what’s your name?” 

“Ah yeah he is.” a pause. “Uh my name is Sakura. And he’s really a good teacher though.” She got up from her seat and caught sight of the mentioned professor turning off the projector. 

And then she realised he was looking right back at her with a piercing red gaze. Embarrassment rose in her and her cheeks felt hot; she looked away as quickly as she noticed his gaze and covered her face from him. 

What was that reaction?

“Sakura? I bet you hear how fitting that is.” Shisui snorted. She noticed Itachi was giving her some sort of look, but she couldn’t really figure it out. 

Ah shit, he knows. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have him constantly picking on you in class and after class and outside of university.” 

“Outside of university?” Sakura questioned. 

“Yeah, he’s just close to my family. Don’t really understand how or why.” Itama says hands stretched up in the air. 

“Don’t know why we’re close to you.” Itachi teased coolly, earning him an annoyed look from Itama. 

“Yo, anyone wants some bubble tea. Kokoro Kafe?” Shisui and Itachi grabbed their bags and headed towards the door. “I could do with some milk tea.”

“My sweet tooth and I agree. Sakura?” Sakura looked at the boys in front her. Were they really inviting her to go out and eat? Her? 

It was a good thing, they were nice people, and where was the harm in getting to know them?

But Sakura couldn't accept this.

“It’s alright, thank you though. I really do appreciate the invite. I’m just going to go back home and eat.” She smiled, eyes closed. “It was really nice meeting you three though.” She waved, and the boys all waved back and left the union. 

She sighed.

Outside, it was getting dark. The blue paint of the sky was darkening to a violet tone dashed with white specks of clouds. The yellow street lights only added to the magical transition of day to evening. It was quiet - but not eerily so, soft fading chatter of students echoed around the campus and the sounds of distant birds were sung in the air. 

Sakura breathed in, taking in the moment. She was sitting down on the cold stone steps in front of the union. She rarely ever looked at the scenery around her, but when she did, it helped her feel a little bit more at peace. It helped her feel a little bit more alive.

“Sakura?”

“Sir, you haven’t left?” a sudden bubble of anxiety exploding in her.

“I am now. Are you alright?” He asked. She wasn’t sure if he was asking just to be nice or if he genuinely was concerned. 

He probably didn’t care, he just had to ask as her teacher. Realistically speaking, why would anyone really care anyways. She was pretty burdensome and didn’t deserve to be worried about by even her closest friends. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” She smiled, her smile feigning genuine happiness.

“Alright then.” He passed her a...cookie? “Just making sure. Get home safe, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pointed at her, his expression asking her for confirmation. She just nodded in reply with the same smile.

His figure grew smaller as he walked away and into the parking area, and her stomach felt even more uncomfortable now that she was alone. But she wanted to be alone, so she really couldn’t complain about the discomfort. 

Also, what the fuck? A cookie?

--

“I kind of wanted to ask for her number…” 

“Then you should have before we left.” Shisui sipped his Chatime drink. “But then again, maybe you scared her off with all that eagerness.” 

“I don’t think I came off too forward.” Itama stated questioningly, and looked to Itachi for an answer.

“I mean...when you mentioned the club..she did look a bit uncomfortable.” Itachi pointed out. Itama pouted slightly. “Maybe next time. You need to be able to read people better if you wanna find someone.” Shisui only laughed. All of the boys, including Itama himself, knew that it was hard for the boy to date. “Not your fault though, cheer up.”

“I was a bit nervous.” Itama said, taking a sip of his green tea latte with a nervous smile.”I’m sure I’ve seen her at Kyo, but only in passing maybe, once or twice. Pretty sure we never talked before.” he sunk into the chair. Itachi just stared at his friend’s disappointed features. “I would’ve remembered.”

“You’re so upset, awh!” Shisui teased.

“She was just really pretty, you know?”

--

In their house it was always quite lively; everyone was cooking and getting dinner ready before communing in the living room area to gossip and talk about their day. Hinata and Ino were undoubtedly the best cooks of the house, while Sakura and TenTen were often the ones buying readymade food. 

Tonight however, Sakura’s fridge was almost empty and all she could really make was some good old penne pasta with ready done tomato sauce. She wasn’t upset about the option, but it was about the fourth time in a row now that she’s had to eat pasta for dinner. 

Ino came into the living room - bouncing happily as her usually gleeful self- with an amazing katsu curry dish she had whipped up. The curry flavours lit up the whole room in salivating awe. 

“Yes, all of you can have some too. I made a lot.” She grinned with a certain kind of confidence only the Yamanakas had. Taking a seat on the floor between Sakura and Tenten, Ino dug into her delicious dish.

“Honestly I’d marry you just for your food.” Sakura hummed after taking a spoon of her curry. 

“JUST for my food?”

“Let me correct myself.” Sakura rubbed her chin in a joking manner. “Because I love you.” Sakura hugged her best friend, and everyone erupted with laughter. 

“Ino would be an annoying wife though, think about it.” Temari piped in. “All that nagging and having to do everything her way blah blah.” 

“Well, Shikamaru seems to be completely fine with Ino.” Tenten winked and gave a sly look to her long haired blonde friend. 

“Oh shut up, we aren’t a thing. We’re just hooking up here and there and we enjoy each other’s company.” 

“Well I bet 50 that they’ll end up together!” Ino shot a look at Tenten.

“Honestly I’d be happy if you guys date Pig, you’ve known each other for a while and he is actually a nice person.” Sakura thought of them dating, and she had always rooted for them to eventually end up together. Ino furrowed he brows. 

“Maybe Ino just wants to just leave it as it is?” Hinata, usually just an observer, added. “I’m happy you’re having fun though!”

“Okay enough about me guys. My love life is always a hot topic but it gets tiresome when-” Ino flipped her hair back dramatically, “-its always about me” she grinned and sat prettily. 

“Yeah oh my god Hinata how are you and Naruto!” Tenten squealed like a little 15 year old girl. Hinata blushed at the question, she was usually more reserved when talking about her personal life.

But Sakura could feel a tightness in her chest at hearing that name. 

Hinata noticed this, and smiled softly. 

“We’re doing really good. It’s been about 2 months and he’s already met my family.” Hinata made sure to keep it short for her pink haired friend. She knew there was a lot to unpack there and hadn’t expected Tenten to carelessly bring that name about. 

“Awh, you guys are honestly so cute. It makes me happy knowing that 2 of us here are having good and fun love lives.” Tenten sighed as she slid next to Temari. 

“Let’s not talk about me though!” Hinata waves her hands off nervously. “My relationship isn’t very interesting, we all know about it!” She glanced at Sakura, who was fumbling with her fork and pasta. Ino noticed it too and caught on to redirect the conversation. 

“Sakura! So, found that mystery hot makeout session boy in Kyo yet?” Ino grinned nudging her best friend.

“Ah?” Sakura woke up from a trance. 

Fuck. She didn’t like falling in and out of conversation and her thoughts like this. It was really tiring and disorienting. 

“Kyo guy!” Tenten giggled back.

“Oh you know what, maybe? I met this guy today and he said he recognised me-”

“What?! You’re only saying this now?? Bitch the fuck!!” Ino’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped to the floor. 

“What’s his name?” Temari asked amidst all the shocked faces.

“Well uh..I met 3 guys. The guy who I think could be the one I met at Kyo is Itama. Then I met Sasuke’s brother and another Uchiha. Shisui if I remember right.” Sakura remembered. They were all really friendly guys.

“Was it at that meeting today?” Ino asked.

“Yeah, Madara knows like all three of them personally. Madara’s Itachi’s uncle. And I think Madara also knows Itama’s family? Or something? Honestly I’m not sure.” It was confusing to be fair. 

“Even I’ve never met the famous Itachi…” Ino muttered. “So, Itama was it?”

“Yeah. He’s got like brown hair with silver highlights and it’s not done well I can tell you that.” Sakura scoffed. “He said he recognised me because he’s seen me in the club.”

“Ah but everyone here goes to all the clubs. Your pink hair sticks out so he probably just remembered that.” Temari waved her hand and looked at Sakura before smirking. “Was he cute though?” 

“I mean..he was actually pretty cute...in a boyish charming kinda way.” All the girls had wide smiles on their faces.

“Will Sakura finally find the one?!” Ino shrieked.

“Is this Kyo club makeout boy?!” Tenten added.

“Will Sakura go on dates again?!” Temari furthered the questioning.

“Stay tuned to find out!” Hinata closed the statements clapping her hands together. It was followed by her kind smile and all the girls laughing- the atmosphere was light and warm between them. The girls, all 5 of them, shared a strong bond. 

Sakura smiled at their jokes, but she also knew they genuinely wanted her to be happy. All of them understood how hard it was for Sakura to engage in meaningful conversations with boys; her anxiety and defenses would instantly go up if a boy approached her on campus. Which was why they were all so interested in ‘Kyo club makeout boy’ who Sakura -though very drunk and out of it -chose to instigate a hot kissing battle with. 

However happy they were for her -and she was appreciative of this, don’t mistake that - it was hard to see herself dating again. It was a scary thing to think about, even though deep down she wanted to fall in love, again. She missed being in love, and the last time she was - she was unlucky. 

--

There was a knock at Sakura’s door. 

“Just come in!” Sakura yelled from her desk spilling with notes from lectures. The door opened revealing Ino in her flowery satin nightdress. 

“Almost done?” The blonde sat on Sakura’s double bed that was messily covered in her grey covers detailed with white and pink sakura trees. Looking at Sakura - who was dressed in her oversized Neck deep tee - Ino could see she was stressed; but this was often how Sakura looked. It worried Ino.

“Yeah - I’ll get to bed soon.” Sakura muttered, completely focused on her assignment. Scribbling away, her desk lamp was bright and boring into her papers and laptop screen; her jade eyes were tired and her eyelids weighed heavy. She sighed. She wasn’t taking care of herself with all of these late nights. 

She was tired of feeling this way.

“Do you need me to stay? Ino asked. “I can’t really sleep either... I’m just feeling a little off as well.” Sakura turned to look at her, not sure what she was saying.

“Yeah..of course. What’s..wrong?” Sakura asked, turning around from her work. Ino shuffled uncomfortably and crossed her legs on the bed. Had Sakura been so caught up in her own head that she completely ignored her best friend? Was Ino hiding it well or was Sakura that selfish?

“The whole talk earlier about Shikamaru...it just made me uncomfortable.” Ino paused. Sakura had completely forgotten and internally facepalmed herself. “I don’t like him that way. And you know how I feel about relationships.” The issue here was that Ino didn’t want to settle down, and Sakura would often bring up relationships to Ino - about how Ino should get in a relationship. Sakura knew that her friend was a strong and confident person, but had taken that for advantage and pressed on Ino’s insecurities.

“Fuck I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have projected my own wants of being in a relationship onto you..” Sakura muttered, guilt strung in her words. Her head was swirling and she felt horrible. Why was she such a bad friend? People always had to support her, people always had to help her, and she couldn’t even keep her own mouth shut. Why was Sakura such a fucking shit friend- and to Ino who had been there for her every step of the way. 

“No it’s okay, I just felt weird talking about it and I know I won’t date him. I just don’t want to get into a relationship.” Sakura’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but her head was heavy with guilt. “Hey, honestly don’t feel too bad about it at all. I came to also just sit with you. I knew you were uncomfortable too.”

Ino could pick up on Sakura’s discomfort, and Sakura couldn’t even do the same for her friend. She didn’t deserve Ino. 

“Yeah. The whole Naruto thing kinda just made me space out.” Sakura ducked her head as she moved to sit next to her best friend. “It’s just...it hurts to think about it sometimes.”

“You know, I think if you tried to talk to him now he would be all for it. You know how much he cares about you. Heck he loves you as much as I do.” Ino’s head fell into Sakura’s neck to remind her that she wasn’t alone. 

“Maybe one day I can. When I’m better.” Sakura muttered, wanting to believe it could happen. She wanted it to, but somewhere inside, she didn’t want it to. 

“Well, when you’re feeling good, or bad, and on your best and worst days I’m here for you okay?” Ino smiled reassuringly. 

“I know.” Sakura smiled in response. “I...I also emailed welfare for a session…its in 2 days” Ino jumped up and looked at her friend. 

“You did?” Sakura nodded smiling. “I’m so proud of you! That’s a really big step! I can’t wait” Sakura was met with a loving hug and giggled in response. “I am so proud of you. I’m coming with you okay?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I am.” 

Sakura thanked Ino. That night, Ino slept on Sakura’s bed to make sure Sakura slept alright and that she would feel at ease falling asleep. Ino missed being at peace with her best friend, and she just wanted the best for Sakura. 

There were no other two best friends like those two. 

--

She doesn’t even know why she’s here at this point. Why did she volunteer to do this? 

Sakura groaned internally, her back against the wall. She was standing in the hall filled with college students, and she was lined up on the sides of the hall with other volunteers. She slept pretty late last night, but she was glad she managed to get sleep anyway. The anxiety and self-deprecating thoughts always snuck their way into her head when she wanted to find peace in slumber; but she felt like she deserved it anyways.

It was just exhausting. 

“Oh I think he’s finally about to end his speech.” Shisui spoke. 

“Finally.” Itama yawned. “We gotta gather the students and call the groups after this.” Itama looked at Sakura, expecting an answer from his group partner. She was looking at Izuna presenting, but her mind seemed elsewhere. 

“Honestly, Madara talks a lot, but Izuna can go on forever. At least Madara is able to get straight to the bush rather than beat around it.” Shisui huffed. “Don’t know how Sasuke and you dealt with uncle Izuna over summer.”

Sakura woke up. Sasuke?

Itachi noticed.

“We were fine. It wasn’t hard.” Itachi shrugged his shoulders.

“And now your tour shall start. The volunteers will bring you around campus and the facilities - they’ll call you by name so when they do please stand up and come on stage.” Izuna closed signalling a thumbs up. 

“Aight, that's our cue Sakura.” Itama nudged her with a grin. 

He had such a boyish grin, Sakura thought. 

“Lets round up the kids.” She joked, a more confident part of her showing. Itama looked at her, amused.

Gathering their group, Sakura felt a little out of place. She had to remind herself to be confident, to just go with it, and that she would be fine. A little speaking wouldn’t hurt her and she chose to do this, so she had to live up to it. 

“So here we have our main cafeteria. Conveniently close to the Student Union, so it’ll be easy to grab lunch.” Sakura walked the students through the food hall. It was large and circular shaped, and it smelled like damn good food. 

“It’ll be easy unless you’re studying art.” Itama joked. “Which none of y’all are, so it’ll be an easy quick lunch!” he winked, earning him a laugh from the younger people. Sakura smiled. This Itama boy had charm, that much she knew. “Alright so that concludes the main campus. We’ve just got the facilities left in our building.” he led the way. 

Itama was so confident, and so happy. He carried himself so well and just by the way he walked, you knew he was someone whose company people enjoyed. 

“Oh yeah we’re passing the main Law building, if any of you were interested in what’s that big old rusty building. It’s the Law building. Just one of their buildings.” Itama pointed to a very wide and stretched out red brick build. 

Laughs, and a lot of them. 

“They like you.” Sakura noted, walking by Itama’s side. She peered to see his reaction which wasn’t any less than what she expected from the boy. A toothy grin. He may be older, but sometimes she swore he was 15. 

“I’m just a likable guy haha! They like you too, you know. You speak very well.” he replied pointing backwards to their walking group of students.

“Oh no, I really don’t.” He looked at her with a really-bitch-? Face. “Alright, I guess..yeah I can speak quite well. But I’m not as confident as you.”

“What? Really? You seem really confident to me.” That earned him a sweet laugh. He suddenly felt a jump in his stomach.

“I’m not. I can be, but I doubt myself a lot.” They were close to the building entrance. “You also don’t really know me.” She pointed out, opening the doors to their building.

“Okay everyone, we’ll take you to labs first.” Itama announced to the buzzing group, before turning to Sakura. “Well then, can I get to know you?” he swung his phone out. 

--

“Did you get her number?” Shisui asked, slinging an arm around his two friends. 

Itama looked at the pink haired girl across the lecture hall.

“No, I didn’t.”

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Reader is with Ash (idk they can come from a party or other members house) and she suddenly hugs Ash and starts crying (she kind of brokes dow due everything that happend recently) and Ash is all confuzed and concerned

Last Girl - A. Irwin

Hey darling! Thank you for the request! It isn’t exactly what you asked for but I hope you like it and I’m sorry if you don’t!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

TW: REFERENCE TO PAST DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, ANXIETY, PANIC ATTACKS AND INTIMIDATION. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS CAN TRIGGER YOU BECAUSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS IMPORTANT

Getting to know Y/N was a challenge. An uphill battle that took longer than most would think.

On the outside, she was a bubbly woman. Always seen with a smile on her face and a bright eyed gaze that screamed joyful bliss.

On the inside, Y/N felt as if she were constantly living the life of a character in a horror movie. Specifically, the last girl.

Even now, as she stood next to Ashton at Calum’s house, enjoying a birthday party for the latter, she couldn’t shake the anxiety. Whenever she thought she was safe and free from what was haunting her, it reappeared. Sometimes in a new form, sometimes in the same form. Sometimes she had a break for a while until she was thrust into a sequel.

She had considered changing her name to Sidney Presscott just as her own macabre homage.

Ashton knew that if he could achieve only one more thing in his life, then it would be to allow Y/N to open up to somebody. Somebody she trusts.

Her life had been through ups and downs, Ashton knew that. It began when she was a teenager, through a cheating boyfriend.

Time and time again, relationship after relationship, she had her heart broken.

Betrayal, cheating, lying, and more recently, violence.

Her most recent ex, Matthew, was a kind man at first. He wooed her mother, earned respect from her father, worked his way into her heart and began to learn every soft spot that was left inside of the hardened muscle.

He knew where she was weak and he took advantage of it.

It started as emotional abuse, then financial abuse. She wasn’t allowed to have control of her own funds. She couldn’t pay for anything. Every purchase was made from his account.

He would call her names, degrade her. Remind her that he was all she had at that time. He plucked tunes from her heartstrings with the promise that if she left him, no other would love her again.

Then things became physical. It started as shoving and escalated to punching, kicking, choking.

Her fingers unconsciously grazed the fine scar that trailed through her left eyebrow.

Ashton smiled down at her, seeming to not notice the growing emotion in her features as he was getting more buzzed by the minute.

She didn’t mind. He was her boyfriend, not her therapist. If she wanted him to know how she was feeling then she would tell him. For now, she was perfectly fine with sorting this bout of emotion into the neat filing cabinet of traumatic memories and outbursts that she kept within her.

She could always handle herself. She had been doing it for so long that independence was a second nature to her.

Ashton, on the other hand, knew something was wrong with his girlfriend. He could almost read her expression like a book, after a year and a half of dating.

She had left her ex almost three years prior, yet she still held much of the trauma inside of her.

If Ashton rose his voice too high, she would flinch. If he wanted to pay for something, she would meekly accept and wear a fearful expression the entire time. She would apologize profusely for the simplest of mistakes.

It broke his heart to think of what she went through. He knew not the extent, but he knew enough to feel his heart ache for the woman he had grown to love, and complete contempt for the man that hurt her.

Y/N was handling herself well. She was doing her best to enjoy the party, and it was working. She downed a few drinks, danced a little with Crystal, and even joined in on laughter following some jokes told by Calum. Regularly, she would only laugh at what Ashton would say. He was the only one she really trusted.

The night was going more than well until her eyes met those of a single man.

He had a blonde woman by the waist, leading her into the large lounge room and Y/N felt her heart sunk as if full with thousands of lead bricks.

Instantly, her palms dampened. Her forehead began to ache with memories of the night she left him.

And then his eyes found her.

She didn’t know why he could have been invited to Calum’s party, or how even. She supposed maybe he just came along. The blonde woman seemed to widen her eyes when she landed then on Calum, and she quickly trailed after him.

It wasn’t rare for fans to sneak into parties just to get a glimpse of the men. But even as the woman walked away, Matthew still watched Y/N.

She seemed to shrink under his gaze, and Ashton caught sight of that. He didn’t know who the man directing such a dangerous glare towards his girlfriend was, but he made sure to tighten the arm that was around her and press a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N felt the care in the simple action and directed a shaky smile to her boyfriend.

Nevertheless, Matthew’s brown eyed glare focused on her.

He made attempts to work his way closer to her, yet she made an attempt to ignore his presence.

Crystal offered her a shot and she smiled with acceptance, downing the liquid and cringing as it burned.

The real trouble came when Ashton excused himself.

“I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a sec, okay?” He looked as if he were asking her for permission, watching as her expression changed for half a second before transitioning into a small smile and a nod.

He had barely been gone a minute when she felt the eyes on her back. Every time she turned around, Matthew was there. Her own personal horror movie villain, and she was in yet another sequel.

A hand graded her arm and she shuffled away. She ignored the questions from her friends as her feet moved on their own accord.

She was outside by the time she realised tears were streaming down her face. Her hands flew to her hair, tugging the roots firmly to bring her focus away from her mind and the man inside of the house.

Her vision was fuzzy, blurred by tears or the panic attack, she knew not. She made it to Ashton’s car before her knees gave out, and she crumpled against the side of the vehicle as sobs and fast paced breath rocked her figure.

Ashton was in the bathroom for two minutes. He counted, just to make sure he wasn’t away from Y/N for longer than he wanted to be. He knew something was going on with her, and while he was never the type to always need to be with his significant other, he wanted to make sure she was okay.

When he returned, the concerned gazes of his friends shone back at him, as if he were looking into a mirror.

“Ash, Y/N ran out.” Crystal walked towards him. It was hard to hear over the music, and some of his friends were too inebriated to realize Y/N had left. “I don’t know what happened. She just left and I couldn’t see where she went to follow her.”

Ashton furrowed his brows, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. He nodded a thanks, his mind going elsewhere to find his girlfriend.

He felt eyes on him, and he turned to see the same brown eyed gaze that was fixed on his girl.

In any other circumstances, he would have approached the man, but for the time being, he needed to find Y/N.

Y/N knew her jeans were stained from the damp grass, and she knew her face would be blotchy, but she couldn’t force the sobs to stop.

Her head was staring to ache from her grip on her hair, and her eyes were stinging from the running mascara.

She barely even recognized the feel of a large hand on her knee until her face was pulled up slightly and her eyes focused on a head of red hair.

The hazel eyes of the person stared down at her and she watched the lips move but she was deaf to the sound.

Slowly her fingers were loosened and the pressure on her scalp began to fade. Her eyes came to focus on the face in front of her and she choked on a sob as she gathered the energy to wrap herself around Ashton.

“Baby? What happened?” He rubbed her back, rocking slightly side to side as he sat himself down so she could crawl into his lap.

Her face was pressed against his neck, her back rising and falling faster than he had ever seen her take in breath.

“Home,” was the only thing she could will her voice to say.

Ashton did his best to stand, cradling her against him as confusion washed through him. He had no idea what set her off, but he definitely had a feeling it was connected to the man who couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He had never seen her have a panic attack before, nor had he seen her cry. She was always so held together and strong, and it broke his heart to see her in such a way, and to not know the cause of it.

He set her in the passenger seat, detaching her limbs from around his neck only for her to wrap them around her knees. Thankfully, she was no longer gripping at her hair, but he hoped the attack would come to an end in the few minutes it would take to reach their house.

He made sure to keep his hand on her knee the whole way home, only taking it off to turn into their drive way and then to rush around and help her out of the car.

Her heavy breathing had stopped, along with the tears. Now she appeared dazed and shaken, unsure if herself and stumbling about on wobbling legs.

It was a few minutes before he attempted to bring up the topic, but when he did, she pushed a deep sigh from her lungs.

“I saw Matthew. My ex.” Realization set in with Ashton. The brown eyed man. “The one who...” she trailed off, fingers skimming the scar protruding through her brow.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” he whispered to her softly, moving towards her as slowly as he could.

She resembled a scared animal at the time, curled up, flinching at every sudden movement, doe eyed and quiet.

“S’fine, Ash. It’s not your problem to deal with, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have made you take me home-“

Ash interrupted her by resting his large hand underneath her trembling chin. She flinched at the sudden movement before relaxing until his touch. She allowed her eyes to trail up and meet his hazel ones.

“Love, your problems are my problems. I hate that I couldn’t be there to help you and I’m seriously trying to not go and beat the shit out of him.” A soft sigh left Y/N and she nodded softly. “No matter what, you have me. You have me until the day you no longer want me, because I want you forever.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. She hadn’t heard such kindness before. Her past relationships had all combusted from the inside out, and after Matthew, she was convinced she would be living through sequel after sequel with similar villains.

“If you need me, I am here. You have this mindset that you’re always going to face trouble, but love, the last girl always has a happy ending in the end,” Ashton told her in a hushed voice. “I love you, Y/N.”

She let a few tears fall, slowly untangling her arms from around her knees to take their place around Ashton’s torso. Her head rested against his chest and she allowed the sound of his even breathing and thumping heart to soothe her muscles and mind.

“I love you, Ash.”

Tag list: @mantlereid @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3

[letsperaltiago]

write your story on my heart: come on and make your mark

In the safety of his mom's hoodie Mac Santiago-Peralta quickly learns that his parents are quite alright if not his favorite people in this big, scary world.

or

the skin to skin-contact oneshot no one asked for 🤔

read on ao3

“One last push! You’re doing so good, honey.”

The second his powerhouse of a wife delivers her last push, fully welcoming the newest addition to their family into the world and the safety of his auntie Roro’s hands, Jake feels his entire cosmos shift and turn upside down. It’s a transition, a feeling he thought the million hours of googling and studying parenting books had prepared him for, only now realising that there is no such thing as being prepared for this very moment.

No book, binder, higher power or even the tangled depth of some Reddit-forum he’d once found could possibly have prepared him for the immense, indescribable joy he experiences rushing through every cell of his body when he hears the first, notably loud cries of his son.

Loud cries are a good sign: it means he has strong lungs, Jake remembers.

“Jake,” he’s snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Amy’s breathy whimpers. Surely she’s more than exhausted after pushing a human out of her. “He’s-” she interrupts herself when she heaves resulting in her knocking her head back against the pillow to gain a breath, meanwhile her eyes search Jake’s face for some kind of conclusion.

The strong urge to take care of them both at the same time, his son and his wife, is tearing him in two separate directions. Although he does quickly settle on turning to Amy. He knows and trusts that his newborn is safe in Rosa and, he shudders a bit at the thought, he has to admit, the fire-fighters care when he sees said glorified EMT is checking his son’s condition.

One last time, he comes to realise this will be, he immerses himself in the feeling of being just the two of them; to have eyes only for her because soon, even though he doesn’t mind one bit, his heart will officially be shared with someone else.

“Yeah, he’s here, babe. He’s here,” he lets out in an euphoric mixture of a breath, smile and sniffle as he leans in to kiss his wife’s forehead. Beneath his touch he can feel her trembling from the adrenaline, still very much red and sweaty but oh, how she’s never been more beautiful to him, and although it’s a very close second, not even clad in white on their wedding day.

His lips stay plastered there for a few seconds but somehow feels like an eternity put into slow-motion. Yes, he knows he could be attending so many other, more useful, matters, but there’s no resisting the overwhelming pride he’s currently feeling knowing his incredible wife once again, this time more than ever, has proven to be the superhero he’s always known her to be.

“You did it,” he exclaims joyously through the cry threatening to crawl up and out of his throat once his lips slip off of her skin. From his new vantage point, having pulled back the slightest, he can tell she’s crying along to the sound of their son’s furious wails, and he can’t blame her. It’s paradoxical: somehow the most beautiful and heartbreaking sound he’s ever heard.

“You’re so incredible, Ames,” the words come spilling out of his moth hopped up on adrenaline which results in them stumbling over each other but he doesn’t care. She needs to know how amazing she is.

As intimate as an interrogation room containing their best friend and some random firefighter can be, their moment runs out the second the firefighter lets them know that their baby is perfectly healthy and gently places him stomach down, wailing at the top of his lungs, on Amy’s still heaving chest. Alongside this the two freshly baked parents stare in disbelief: they created this little and so very wanted human who’s now finally, after 9 months of pregnancy and even longer time spent wanting and trying, screaming into the soft fabric of Amy’s hoodie.  

Amy’s hand are immediately drawn in, rushing to cup the tiny being in her hands, one supporting his bottom meanwhile the other his head. It’s all so much: the soft surface of his skin, the vibration coming from his screaming, and more importantly healthy, lungs resonate against hers making everything that more and finally completely real. Every ultrasound scanning, all the fluttering kicks from inside her womb and even the contractions: this kind of real beats everything prior to this moment.  Her son is really here, in flesh and blood, resting against her chest instead of bundled up inside her womb.

“He’s amazing,” she lets out with a sob as she attempts to study Mac’s every feature.

“He sure is,” Jake is quick to chime in placing a hand on his son’s back before leaning in to kiss the tiny head tenderly, of course keeping in mind the fragility of a newborn’s skull, something all the baby books have told him about. He then looks backs to his wife and kisses her lips.

Her crying almost sabotages her ability to kiss him back, but she stables herself just enough by moving a hand to rest on her husband’s cheek and then it hits her like never before that she’s currently, right then and there, holding her entire world in her hands: Jake in one and their son in the other.

McClane Santiago-Peralta. Mac.

He’s a perfect 9 pounds and 21 inches, they’re later told at the hospital; he’s soft, pink and brand new; he’s here and he’s their son.

Caught up in what feels like her life’s biggest whirlwind of a moment, kissing her husband and holding her screaming newborn, she faintly make out Rosa and the firefighter telling them they’re going to leave them alone for a while to go meet the incoming ambulance and and actual EMTs.

Jake and Amy pull apart as the door closes and encapsulates their new little family of three in the interrogation room.

“I love you so much, Jake,” she smiles both with her lips and deep brown eyes which radiate so much joy through the tears that it makes Jake shed a tear too when he tell her “I love you too. So much.”

Their attention shifts back to Mac quietly whimpering for attention having only been partly soothed by his mother’s hold and is still very much upset with the fact he’s been thrown right into such a big, bright world without warning.

“And I love you too, my baby Mac,” she coos in addition to her declaration of love as she lets go of Jake’s face to hold her still naked, probably very hungry and cold son even closer.

Although Amy without a doubt had the birthing suite Hitchcock and Scully had built her to thank for making the birth surmountable, it wasn’t exactly destined to do what it was doing right now meaning that a lack of heat was noticeable.

“Shhh, yes, I know,” she strokes the top of his head in an attempt to comfort the whimpering bundle, “it’s all so big and scary out here, but we’ll make sure you’re okay. We got you.”

Mac’s cries have definitely quieted down, lost momentum, since first appearing in their world just minutes ago but he’s still very clearly voicing discontent and Amy can feel her brand new mom-heart bleed. She mentally turns over every page of every baby book she’s ever read furiously trying to find a solution to her son’s crying and discomfort.

“Your mom’s right, bud. No need to cry. We’re here with you,” Jake bends over the gap between him and the stretcher, down to his son’s eye level as if it’ll convince him to calm down only to comprehend that a newborn probably doesn’t care about his father’s promises. Mac is a man of actions not words.

“Jake,” Amy whimpers hit by realisation, so suddenly set on one thing and one thing only and it of course immediately gains her her husband’s full attention. “Help me put him on my chest.”

A look of confusion dawns on Jake as they share a look, Amy’s eyes pleading for him to understand.

“But Ames, that’s where he already is?”

“No, like on my actual chest. Skin to skin-contact, Jake.”

It comes out matter of factly and memories of many textbook pictures of cute, tiny babies lying against their mother’s bare chest right after birth come rushing back to Jake instantly replacing his confusion.

“Oh yes, that, right! Of course.”

She briefly pauses to think although its hard when her train of thoughts is very much controlled by the worry growing within her every time Mac lets out another loud whine or cry. At least he’s on top of something soft, she thinks in an attempt to reassure herself when looking down at him and her now very messy, gooey NYPD-hoodie and then, all out of the blue, it hits her: the messy but soft and warm NYPD-hoodie. Beneath it she’s only wearing her maternity bra (she’d started wearing them already months ago once her boobs had grown too big for her regulars once: also they were way more comfortable) so surely her idea was worth the try.

“He could probably fit into my hoodie,” she wonders or rather declares out loud. Her son needs somewhere warm and safe, so, regular procedure be damned.

“I mean,” Jake studies the features of the grey piece of clothing, “it’s quite big and if you just tug down the neck whole he could probably fit in there with you.”

So they give it a try.

While Jake momentarily takes possession of his son, immediately tearing up again at the very surreal feeling of holding life, which he’s created, for the first time, Amy unclasps and removes her soft bra. In terms of the last step she tugs open, as wide as physically possible, the neck hole of her hoodie to welcome her son. It’s not pretty nor graceful but the hoodie is indeed really big (especially now that Mac is no longer in her womb) and together they manage to carefully place him to rest against his mother’s skin and under the soft material of the hoodie, only his head, under Amy’s, emerging from the neck hole. They hold their breaths for a second, both internally begging for their invention to be enough to soothe their son completely.

Amy instantly feels better knowing she’s sharing her bodily heat with her son, and, even more rewarding is the fact that it also seems to pay off: after a few more whimpers, slowly fading into barely audible sniffles, a silence lastly settles over them.

From where he’s resting chest to chest, skin to skin, with his mother, Mac finally, for the first time in his life, seems fully content and settles for dozing off as the easiest way to handle being completely knocked out by the intensity of being born.

Jake and Amy exchange a surprised, having feared the worst outcome since today already had followed a certain chaotic discourse, but ecstatic look as all there is left to be heard is the sound of approaching ambulance sirens.

“This feels incredible,” she speaks quietly in an attempt to not disrupt her son’s newfound state of peace, checking on him once more to make sure he’s not being squished by her chin, and although this time there’s fabric creating a barrier between her palms and his skin, she allows her fingers to fall into a sweeping motion across the tiny frame.  

“It looks incredible,” Jake whispers back not believing his own eyes because the scene currently playing out in front of him sure can’t be real. It’s too good, something he years ago wouldn’t even dare to dream of, and although he doesn’t want to be that person, he wants to live in the present, Jake can’t fight the urge to grab his phone and snap a picture, just one that he can make his lock screen picture the second he has a minute to do so. For now he figures it’s enough and puts his phone back into his pocket allowing him to lean in and join his wife in caressing their son.  

“Always told you you look crazy good in hoodies,” he smirks knowingly thinking of all the times he’s told her this only to be met by disagreement and dismissive comments before pecking her temple tasting small beads of sweat, salt, on his lips.

“Even now covered in placenta?” her exhausted eyes manage to throw him a teasing look ahead of redirecting to admiring Mac’s beautiful, finally peaceful being. Jake’s eyes trail behind, staying on her with the most loving look when he utters, “especially now covered in placenta,” before following her lead and looking at Mac.

The sirens from before have faded, disappeared, letting the new parents know that the ambulance must’ve reached the precinct. Despite this fact, they forget and enjoy the quiet before the storm, their first peaceful moment as a family.

All in all Mac seems pleased with his new favorite spot on his mom’s chest. Even as she holds him a bit tighter, securing him to her chest when she’s wheeled out of the integration room by a newly arrived EMT, Jake right beside her to make sure they’re alright every step of the way, Mac doesn’t budge; even in the ambulance when one of her hands leaves his back to hold Jake’s while the sirens make an encore, Mac stays quiet.

This might not be his mother’s womb but he knows he’s home.

[doomstypewriter]

Helpless Au - A draft fragment

This is my Prinxiety ghost/haunted mansion AU. 

More about the AU

If anyone wants to be tagged on posts regarding the AU, please, just comment, I’ll be thrilled. 

Helpless Au - A draft fragment: In which Logan saves Virgil’s life from a situation worse than social interaction and, thus, they become best friends. 

This is written quickly, because it’s a draft, not to say that it’s poorly written (although that would be for each one to judge), just that some transitions are fast as a means to tell efficiently what’s going on. 

CW: Persecution, swearing, anxiety on Virgil’s part (but that is to be expected). Nothing more I can think of (don’t hesitate to tell me if you find anything else). 

Word count: 2069 (heh, you know what that means). 

Virgil goes down the pathway that takes him out of the grounds of Patton’s house. Even though the sun is still setting, there’s a certain degree of darkness because the clouds have turned black. A pouring is about to start, Virgil rushes so he doesn’t get caught in it on his way back to the mansion. 

He reaches the dirt path that’s beside the road, he ought to be in the mansion in a matter of five minutes, provided that he walks at a decent pace. Patton’s house is relatively near the mansion, but, for starters, Patton’s garden and the mansion’s are equally enormous, and, secondly, the access that connects them by road, the only way to come back without jumping a fence (which wouldn’t have been an ideal first impression for Patton’s grandma, but, now that Virgil knows her, perhaps the strange woman would have found it hilarious), is quite twisted. 

Virgil sees a person walking in the distance. He doesn’t really care for it, he simply internally prays that they won’t speak to him. Social interaction would be worse than anything. ANYTHING. 

Predictably, it begins to rain and Virgil quickly gets his folding umbrella out of his backpack. Quite a thoughtful present from his dad, not to mention the cool design with a giant white skull on a black background. He keeps on walking whilst thinking ‘fuck, my converse are turning into soup. Heh, my converse are at soup. But, for real, this is horrible’. 

After a while he realises that the person from before is keeping the same distance and Virgil proceeds to methodically overthink it: ‘they don’t have an umbrella, how is it that they aren’t walking faster? They’re getting drenched!’. He asks himself too where are they even going, taking into account that the only thing ahead is the mansion. In the end, Virgil chooses to walk faster. So does whoever. This is when Virgil lets go off his umbrella and RUNS. 

Our favourite emo searches for his phone, but lo and behold, it’s not anywhere to be found. The memory hits him like a brick ‘OH SHIT I MUST HAVE FORGOT IT AT PATTON’S. COOL. I’M GOING TO DIE’. The stalker keeps on running and jumps over the umbrella, sprinting towards him.

Suddenly, a bike races by and skids into a stop with a deafening sound of the brakes. Logan is on that bike. 

He looks at Virgil with a deadly serious expression and tells him to hop on. Virgil runs for the bike and gets on holding onto Logan. 

Logan starts pedaling like a bat out of hell. THANK EVERYTHING THAT LOGAN’S LEGS ARE LONG. 

“Sorry for not bringing a spare helmet, I wasn’t prepared for this happening”.

“Honestly, I don’t fucking care. You just saved my life”. 

Would you look at that, there was something worse than social interaction after all. The universe must love him dearly to correct him in such a kind way. 

“I wouldn’t exactly say so, but that man running after you is certainly distressing”. 

“Light way to put it”. 

“You’re right. It was scary. We ought to call the police as soon as possible”. 

“You bet. What the fuck was that?” 

“I don’t know. Oh, on the subject of calling, you left your phone at Patton’s”.

“Yeah, I found out while I was being chased. Honestly, thank god for my forgetful ass”. 

Logan laughs loudly. 

“Indeed”. 

“I won’t tell Patton you laughed”. 

“Thank you”. 

“No, thank YOU, man”. 

They arrive at the mansion completely soaked. He asks Logan for his phone and calls Janus to open the door. 

After a while, the entrance door swings open. 

Janus starts by saying: “Sorry if you rang the doorbell, I was in my room and I didn’t…” that’s when he takes a proper look at his brother and Logan and is worried sick. The only thing he can ask, obviously, is: “WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Virgil explains, not gladly, none of the events could quite get him in the mood, the world shall be left wondering why. 

Janus tells him to take Logan to one of the bathrooms and let him borrow some clothes so he can get the shower he so desperately seems to be needing and also instructs him to do the same while he calls the police and their father. 

The sound of keys then is heard. Janus mentally tells himself ‘one less call, then’. 

The father enters frantically asking for Virgil, two umbrellas in his hand. 

He sees him wet from head to toe in the hall with his friend and runs to hug his son. 

“I saw your umbrella laying on the road on my way here. Thank god you’re fine. What happened?” he asks while looking at his sons and Logan. 

Janus gestures him while on the phone and mouths an ‘I’m on it’. 

“Okay, tell me after getting a shower, both of you. Lend him some clothes, you can take some of mine if they don’t fit. Oh, hello, by the way, I’m Virgil’s dad” he says as he offers his hand.  

Logan gladly takes it. Yes, gladly, because social acceptance and interaction are quite refreshing from his usual interpersonal awkwardness. 

“Greetings as well, I’m Logan, and I’m Virgil’s…” he thinks about how to phrase it properly but Virgil simply cuts him. 

“He’s my friend, dad”. 

“Oh, gosh, you made a new friend! That’s great son! Well, we can talk later, go get that shower”. 

“Okay. Follow  me Logan”. 

They both climb the main stairs and turn to the block of rooms to the left. 

Logan talks about the architecture all the way. They go up the spiral staircase. He mentions that the painting of the house that hanged in front of the stairs looks like an impressionist depiction of a British manor of the sixteenth century. Virgil blinks like on a vine and asks him how does he know that. 

“I have an appreciation for architecture”. 

“Just as you do for poetry”. 

“Indeed”.

They reach the bathroom of the second floor. 

Virgil tells him that he’ll go to his room to fetch some clothing and might leave it on a chair outside or in the bedroom nextdoor. 

“I’ll see you at the living-room”. 

“How can I find it?” 

“Go downstairs back to the hall and then to the left, it’s the room with the big ass stage”.

“That seems a little excessive”.

“Yeah, the dude who made the house was extra af”. 

The police arrives and takes their statement. A middle aged woman and her young male partner question them. The partner looks kind of goofy but pays full attention, the lady, on the other side, looks like she is done with life after having seen too much shit, but she is really nice. 

“Look, guys, I’m going to be honest with ya. It’s hard to tell if we may find whoever did that, because you haven’t seen their face. Without that, there isn’t that much we can do to find them. Pressing charges is hardly possible because they did not assault you nor pulled out a gun. What they did to you was bad, and I’d love to be able to help more, but I cannot tell you how this is going to turn out, it’s a tricky situation”. 

“Excuse me, ma'am, but, hadn’t I arrived when I did, anything could have happened to my friend. It is most distressing to have someone chase you down and I can’t make out what their intentions would be to do such a thing if the individual didn’t plan something nasty”. 

“We know it’s unfair, well make sure to catch them!” the goofy-looking guy answers this time.  In his righteous enthusiasm he coughs a few times. 

“Asthma too?”. 

The guy looks at him awkwardly and nods. 

“Can I speak to you alone, son?” the lady asks Virgil. 

“Sure”. 

They leave the room to the corridor of high ceilings that connects it to the library and the main dining room. The voice of his father and Ethan are coming from the library, discussing their shared worries. The talking ends as soon as they hear them. 

“Why do you think that person was chasing you?” 

“How could I know? Am I in trouble for something?” 

“Uuuugh” she pinches the bridge of her nose “shit, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Look, if anything remotely weird has happened, that could link to that person chasing you I need to know, I want you guys to be safe. It’s never a good sign to be chased by someone on a lonely road. Tell me, it’s my understanding that you and your family have been here for a month, has anything out of the ordinary occurred? Something that could alarm you?”

“I’m the kind of person that is alarmed by mostly anything so you’ll have to be more specific”.

“I’m also that kind of person, Virgil, so I hope you understand what I tell you when I say that there’s the ordinary kind of alarming; like the fear forgetting about closing your front door, and finding that door open after you made sure to check it was closed”. 

Virgil breathes in with tension. He feels watched. Not precisely by his family, which is odd. Who else would be watching? Damn, this hypervigilance thing was driving him nuts. Although, this once it made total sense, the situation had been a perfect brew for anxiety. 

“Would you mind following me elsewhere?” 

“Sure”. 

On their way upstairs, to the tower room, Virgil adds: 

“Okay, I know it seems kinda weird to make you climb all of these stairs and unnecessarily mysterious, but my room is the ‘loneliest place in the castle’ and I don’t want my family to get worried if they overhear this”.

“It’s fine, son, that’s perfectly understandable”. 

They enter the room and the lady whistles in awe. 

“Wow, what a room you got here, I’d wish I’ve had this when I was your age”. 

“Well, you must be the only one”. 

“Why is that?”. 

“Everybody keeps on ranting about how this place is freaky”. 

“Is it?”. 

“No. This and the library are the nicest places in the house. I like being able to see so much”. 

Virgil guides her to one of the windows. 

“Well, with the panoramic view, it’s almost like a watch tower”. “There” Virgil points at the part of Patton’s garden that’s visible. “A few nights ago I spotted a guy talking at a phone, I think he saw me watching him, because when he looked at the tower he immediately left”. 

Later, when the police has left, Logan tells him that he is trans. Why? Well, he has to stay the night because the pouring is more like a violent storm. Also, Patton might kill him if he doesn’t take off his binder, which he put back on in spite of being soaked. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back dude. Here, have this, it’s one of my baggiest”. 

On Virgil’s hand is a giant black zip-up hoodie. 

“It’s not much of my style, and not the most elegant solution, but it will suffice. Although, it is very comfortable and the fabric texture is kind on the skin. Thank you very much. I shall take off my binder and put it on”. 

“Toilet’s over there. Place the binder on the radiator so it dries”. 

Virgil tends to his devices. Logan comes back with the hoodie on, comfy as ever. 

“Are we having a sleepover?” 

“I don’t know. Do you want us to have one?”

“I’m unsure as to if it’s appropriate given the circumstances that brought me here, as well as the fact that I have no expertise on the subject”. 

“Neither do I, but it could be cool. We can have a spooky sleepover, throw some candles here and there and read Edgar Allan Poe or watch some horror films”. “I’m not convinced by the horror films, but, perhaps some Hitchcock would be a suitable replacement suggestion and we may add Bukowski to the least of authors to read”. 

“Sounds fine by me. Maybe we could get Patton on Skype”. 

“I’d enjoy that. On a different note, it’s getting late, we should have dinner”. 

“Uh, sorry, right, you probably didn’t have time at Patton’s”. 

“Not to worry, though, I’m glad I didn’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have caught you in time”. 

“Ain’t that the truth”.