#like she’s not against them learning more

[kngrose]

sevika general headcanons 𝜗𝜚

WARNINGS: 18+, sexual content, mommy kink, biting, squirting, slapping, spit play, degradation, dacryphilia, ignoring safe words, implied age gap, sevika is mean

AN: i got carried away… ;] not proof read!

SFW

Initially, she wanted nothing to do with you.

Like at all.

Once she realized that her feelings for you were anything more than platonic, she wanted to throw you off the piltover bridge.

She was so incredibly frustrated with herself because, how did she let this happen?!

You’ll definitely notice she starts smoking a hell of lot more frequently and spends most—if not all—of her free time in the brothel— anywhere you’re not around.

But of course, she can only run from her feelings for so long, and she eventually caves; letting you in.

Because of her upbringing, she has quite a hard time adjusting to having a girlfriend.

If its not anger, she has a hard time expressing herself. And if she’s not angry and it’s something trivial? More often than not she’ll end up accidentally hurting your feelings with her harsh tone.

One time, when the two of you had started dating, she’d asked you, "Have you ever done this before?” and it shocked you because you didn’t know if she was implying something or—

When you’d sputtered back a flushed, “Done, what?” she rolled her eyes and retorted, "Had a girlfriend, dumbass." Her tone stern but not necessarily angry. Later, she would have to console you after you admitted she’d hurt your feelings.

She swears she doesn’t mean to— that’s just how she talks!

Not to mention her heavy handedness??? Like omg.

She’s so heavy handed.

You’ll end up with tiny bruises scattered everywhere because of how hard she’ll grab your hand or your arm.

When she places a hand on your lower back to guide you it’ll feel more like a shove.

She has this cute little habit of kicking your legs under the table—for fun or to get your attention— and she swears it’s a soft little nudge.

But when you show her the red and purple blotches afterwards, she’ll relent.

It’ll take her a while, but she learns.

She learns to be more gentle and handle you with care.

She’ll also learns how to recieve love and affection!

It was quite foreign for her, like it would be for most people in the undercity. At first it made her uncomfortable— the constant little touches, the chaste kisses to the cheek, the hugs.

You’ll notice that she’s super standoffish when you do these things. Just staring at you with this unreadable expression.

It’s not that she didn’t like it, she just wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about it.

Don’t be misconstrued though, because once she solidifies the idea that this is normal behavior, she’ll be all over you.

I headcannon that her biggest display of affection is physical touch. She just loves to touch you in any way possible.

If you’re sitting on a couch or a bench, personal space is not an option. She’s presses herself right up against you, thighs touching and all.

If you’re going for a walk, she’s holding your hand or your wrist. Sometimes she’ll even wrap her hand around the back of your neck.

If you’re sitting at a table she’s got a hand on your thigh, or wrapped around your ankle when you cross your legs.

Loves to just play with your fingers or lay her head in your lap. Please play with her hair!! She’ll grab your hands and place them on her head if you don’t, grumbling at you for not already doing your “job”.

I also think she would just love quality time, because she’s clingy! The two of you don’t even have to talk, as long as you’re there she’ll be content with just sitting in silence and enjoying your company. And if she’s not busy, you always have hers.

She wants to do everything with you, laundry, shopping, studying, napping— all of it. She would sit in the bathroom while you poop, if you’d let her.

She hates leaving you alone, and despises when you leave her side. “It’s too dangerous out here, Darlin’…” is what she says everytime, “Who’s gonna protect you?”

She’s got a long list of petnames for you. More often than not you’ll hear:

“Darlin’..” “Baby..” “Pretty girl…”

Flying from her mouth with whatever little things she says. Sometimes when she’s feeling playful, she’ll name you after whatever you have on at the moment.

For instance if you’re wearing glasses, she’ll call you glasses. If you’ve got on a button up, she’ll call you button.

She won’t ever admit it but she’ll appreciate it greatly if you have your own pet names for her aswell. They’ll make her look away in the efforts that you don’t see the giddy smirk that she swallows.

She can’t have you knowing you make her all soft.

Speaking of which.

She’s the definition of “grumpy”. Like everything she does, she has to grumble about it. Want her to grab the remote? Fine, she’ll do it, but she’s going to grumble the whole time. Grab your jacket? Ok, cool, but you’re gonna hear this grumbling monologue, something about how you, “Couldve grabbed it yourself..”

She’s definitely the type to say “No.” when you ask her to do something, and then do it anyway.

She loves to pretend that she’s stone cold but she’s actually a huge softie when it comes to her little gf! (wife)

She loves to just look at you. Would definitely make others say, “Wow, look how she’s looks at her—”

Multiple times day you’ll catch her just idly staring at you, and it makes you self conscious— starting to touch at your hair and clothes. When you question her about it she’ll just say, “What? I can’t look at my pretty girl?” and kiss the corner of your lips.

She listens to you so intently, like she’s hanging onto every word, and blinks slowly at you like a cat. If you’re venting and just want her to listen? You got it. Come take a seat on her lap and she’ll hear everything you have to say; rubbing circles on your back with one hand, and holding yours with the other, just looking up at you with the occasional, “Mhm..”

And if you wanna talk about something silly? Go right ahead! She’ll listen all the same, offering her two cents every now and then or a soft chuckle. She’ll never turn down an opportunity to hear your voice.

She loves when you ask to arm wrestle

Likes to watch you try to pull her arm down with two of yours, smiling softly at your efforts before kissing your forehead and saying, “Better luck next time, princess.”

Don’t even try with an actual wrestling match— she tosses you around so easily, it makes you embarrassed. It slips your mind sometimes, her brute strength, because you’ve gotten so used to her being soft with and around you.

But when she pounces, pinning you in all of five second— without an ounce of a struggle— let’s just say it’s always a humbling experience. “My baby’s gotta get stronger,” She’ll always say, beforing tossing you over her shoulder with a chuckle.

She loves to give you random little kisses. Some on your cheeks, a few where your neck meets your shoulder. Behind your ears, on the palm of your hands. Every last one of your knuckles. Of course your precious lips.

She loves your lips. Loves when you get all done up and pretty so she can watch you put lip gloss on; before she messes it up by kissing you so she can watch you do it again. “Oh, don’t fuss at me,” She’ll smirk from behind you, watching you redo your lipstick in the mirror. “Just wanna kiss my pretty girl…” She’s kisses your cheek. You’re better off doing your makeup when she’s not around… if she’s ever not around.

And when you tell her you love her for the first time, she smiles softly, "I love you too." Sevika says gently, "I just don't quite understand what you see in me." The crimeboss chuckles, "A big, rough, hardened criminal.. doesn't exactly seem like a popular relationship choice, darlin'." She teases, looking down at you with a crooked grin.

Her grin softens into a look of admiration as you explain that the love you have for her is beyond those things, because you knows she’s more than that. "You see into me like no one else." She admits quietly, "You see past the walls, and the mask, and even the facade." She continues, "You see all the pieces I work so hard to keep covered up." Sevika adds on, chuckling softly as she looks down at you. "You're the only one who does that, y'know?" She admits, "You're the only one I allow to see me for who I really am."

NSFW

Come, come. Let’s discuss.

There’s so many things that really get Sevika going, and with you as her pretty little girlfriend, it doesn’t take much. She won’t admit it, but in those moments where she’s just staring at you, she picturing the most ungodly scenes. It gets worse once you realize how often it is you catch her staring.

She can’t help it. She’s always riddled with flash backs of you getting slutted out. While she’s working at the brothel, playing poker, having meetings with Silco— it doesn’t matter. It’ll just randomly cross her mind and she’ll realize: she can’t wait to come home.

Sevika loves it when you call her Mommy. It makes her feel powerful. It strokes her ego. It gives her a warm fluttering feeling in her chest everytime you let it slip from your lips. Often times, she’ll like to make you repeat yourself, just so she can hear you say it over and over and over again.

She loves to bite and she loves to be bitten. It’s something so primal about it that warms up her core and makes her soak. She’ll let out deep rumbles when you bite into her arm or shoulder, never applying too much pressure. She’s told you before that you don’t have to hold back, but you always do. She doesn’t.

You see, Sevika likes to fluctuate. Not between top and bottom, but hard and soft.

Sometimes she wants to be so gentle with you. Kissing you passionately, hugging you tight, caressing you all over, giving you slow deep thrusts so she can show you how much she really loves you.

Other times she wants to be rough. She wants to toss you around, and pull your hair. Leave marks and choke you until you can’t breathe. Impose on you with her harrowing size and strength.

It’s even better when she finds the middle ground.

She’ll always ease you into everything, just to make sure you’re on the same page.

When she’s feeling particularly soft, she’s loves to service you. She’ll lay you on your back and kiss you everywhere, she likes to see how worked up it’s gets you. Pressing soft wet kisses down your neck and chest, undressing you as she does so.

And she’ll smirk as you’re left in your underwear, leaning down to press a soft kisses against your stomach. She’ll move lower, kissing your hips and your thighs before kissing your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. "I'm gonna take these off, that okay, Baby?" She’ll ask, already knowing your answer, her fingers toying with the waistband.

And she will laugh, seeing how you eagerly nod your head, a breathless, “Yes, Mommy.” falling from your pretty lips. She’ll hum to herself lowly. God, She loves it when you call her that. And she’ll free you of your panties because, how could she resist such a sweet plea?

And once she sees how wet your pussy is, she’ll whistle, “Phew, what’s got my baby so worked up?” And run her fingers over your slit, gathering up the mess on her fingers to taste. Sevika will eat your pussy for hours. And please don’t test this theory— because you’ll regret it.

It doesn’t matter if you buck your hips away, she’ll just wrap her arms around your hips effectively locking them down, and continue to have her way. “Let Mommy eat, pretty..” She’ll chastise, and you’ll have no choice but to oblige.

And when she’s done eating your pussy, she’ll position you to sit in front of her and lean on her bare chest so she can fuck you with her fingers until you squirt all over them. She loves the access she has here. She gets to kiss all over your neck and shoulders and rub at your nipples, all the while pressing her palm against your clit while her fingers press against that spongey spot inside you.

And don’t even think about telling her you can’t take anymore, because it’ll fall on deaf ears. She’ll swallow up your pleas in a sweet kiss, telling you, “Nonsense, Baby. Mommy knows you can handle s’more..” Trust me, when she’s feeling soft, she’ll never take you beyond your means. She knows her princess.

She’ll kiss you so passionately you both never want to stop, rutting her pussy against yours precisely. You just know she’s had some practice. She likes to look deep into your eyes, holding you there by your cheeks the whole time. Pressing her forehead against yours while she whispers to you.

“My pretty baby… you feel s’good..” She’ll murmur against yours while she lips, before sucking on them sweetly. She’s so sweet when she’s soft.

But when she’s hard: She’s nasty.

Filthy and vulgar, and driven by nothing but the urge to ruin. In these times, it’s hard to get through to her. Nothing you say will get through her head unless it’s, “Yes, Mommy” or a direct response to what she’s just ordered you to do.

Keyword ordered.

She’ll have you stripped in record timing, gripping both of your wrists harshly, pinning them above your head, “These stay here, Understand?” She’ll say, her tone authoritive with no room for argument. And you’ll nod your head like a good girl for her.

When she spreads your legs, that’s where they better stay, otherwise she’ll slap your pussy, hard, and that’ll just be your first warning. She’ll grill you down with a hard stare, and you’ll know not to make that mistake again.

She’ll bring two fingers to your lips, and tap against them. "Open up for Mommy, baby." She’ll order, tone stern. And when you do, she’ll fuck your throat with those fingers, feeling you gag and watching the spit slide down your throat. And she’ll lick it all up just to spit it back in your mouth. “Good girl…” She’ll purr.

When she’s like this, she has a dark look in her eyes. It’s a primal look, and if you glance away too quickly you’ll miss it. She’s likes to fuck you hard during these times, hardly any qualms for your limits.

She’ll always have her handy strap prepared and waiting. Thick and long and heavy. She likes it that way. She likes to feel like the man.

She’ll grin, somewhat cruelly, and her eyes will meet yours in a flirtatious wink. "You like the view, pretty girl?" Sevika asks softly, her hand gently stroking the toy in her hand, like it’s a real dick, getting it all wet with lube. And how could you not? Her cut physic on full display, muscled and scared… so manly.

Sevika will take you through so many positions, you won’t have the energy to roll over in your sleep at night. She’ll take you in missionary first, “Mommy’s gonna break you in now, Baby.” She’ll growl, and she’ll keep her promise, bottoming out in one single thrust. Hard. She loves that look of pain that washes over you. She’ll wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze as she ruts into you.

She’ll fuck you like she hates you, but you know it’s all love when she’s slapping your face, and filling your mouth with her fingers.

And when she thinks that’s not enough? She’ll grip the back of your legs and push them up to your chest, effectively folding you up before drilling into you. She’s got you in a mating press.

And she’ll chuckle away at the tears that form in your eyes, your moans flying out in a mantra. She’ll grin down at you, her lips pulling back into a cocky smirk. "Yeah, good girl.." There’s a lewd slapping that fills the room. "How does that feel, sweet girl?" She’ll ask, sticking her fingers down your throat again, "Is Mommy hitting all the right spots, baby?"

And this’ll go on until she’s made you cum a few times. She likes to watch the expression on your face when you come undone, tears falling from your eyes.

But don’t think your done, no, she’s just getting started.

She’ll pull out and physically toss you over, shoving your head down with brute force and pulling your ass up. She’ll push her dick back in, slowly so you feel it. “S’good right?” She’ll ask, “Mommy filling you up?” and she’s back to drilling you like she never stopped.

She’ll lean over you, wrapping a muscular arm around your throat and putting you in a headlock. She’ll snicker evily in your ear as you cry out at the new angle, “Ohhh, Mommy’s fucking you good, huh? Right there?” She’ll tease, beating that spot in relentlessly.

If you get too loud she’ll have no choice but to squeeze that arm around your throat, snickering at the way you tap at her arm, “So pretty…” She’ll say in your ear, driving her hips into yours, “Tell Mommy how much you love her..”she’ll say, knowing you can’t respond. The drool will run down your chin and she’ll just lick it up, muttering, “Such a messy girl, huh?”

When shes feels her primal needs are satisfied, she’ll return back to that soft, loving “Sevi” that you know. Cleaning you up and giving you kissies. Rubbing all of your sore spots and telling you how much of a good girl you were.

And as you both cuddle in your shared bed, she’ll watch as you fall asleep on her chest, a small smile forming on her lips as she lets herself doze off as well. <3

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[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

With his romance with Lavellan, Solas learned a horrific truth—that him simply as a humble man was enough to be lovable. He had been plied out of the Fade by Mythal because of her need for him, and out of devotion, he became something more and dreadful for himself, for her. And she never reciprocated that devotion with the same intensity. He spent millennia fighting for her as a thing he detested—a man of war and death, a being whose mortal body imbued him with innate qualities and emotions that would further twist his Wisdom nature. He was producing the very poisons that would normally corrupt a spirit by virtue of [Being a Person]. The external influences now harbored inside him.

But Lavellan showed him. That being you are, the one that wished to ponder and reminisce of spirits, who valued liberty and freedom and knowledge and the wry observation? That was enough. That was always enough. But he can’t accept it, because millennia of being Fen Harel, being devoted to Mythal and her cause.. to sunder it from himself would feel like a magnificent loss. He has been that for so long, is there anything yet truly left of the Wisdom spirit that once was?

Not only that, but given corporeality, Solas is compelled by the operant [If I can, I must]. He CAN do something about the Veil, so he will. If he doesn’t, then he is forsaking the memory of those whose choice he made he destroyed. He is forsaking his own principles. To do nothing in the face of injustice and cruelty is a sin he cannot bear.

He comes to the Inquisition as a “humble apostate”, both as disguise and because in his de-powered state he is of little greater use (if he had greater power I’m certain he would have nudged the Inquisition toward their goals). This is a costume he is wearing, or so he tells himself. He exists to advise, to suggest, to subtly direct toward more peaceful and humanitarian and spirit-friendly directives. He operates as his former [Wisdom] spirit state.

And Lavellan grows to love it, to appreciate it. She grows to appreciate [Solas as Wisdom]. That part of him, the part of him that he has put aside for thousands upon thousands of years, though his nature craves to return to it. Without his ability to be Fen’Harel, it is pretty much all he has. And oh, this mayfly mortal born of a “forsaken ignorant people”, she is drawn to him, seeing him as a [man], seeing him at his (comparatively) weakest, most ineffectual state and finding it pleasing. Desirable. [Enough].

Enough. He is enough as Solas, simply Solas. But if it is enough for Lavellan, why was it not enough for Mythal? No, no, there was a reason. There was a war. War requires more of people. It requires limits to be broken and terrible mantles to be donned.

But Lavellan is fighting an existential war against Corypheus. And she does not demand more of him. She values what little he is able to provide—guidance, insight, his magic. It is [Enough].

We Solavellans have dissected and discussed at length about the nature of the relationship being one built on deceit, the moral and ethical quandary of love cultivated under a false identity. Veilguard has confirmed the existential struggle and quiet agony that Solas experienced by transitioning into [Being]. While Lavellan should of course had been informed of his ‘true identity’ before falling in love with him, an argument could still be made that Fen’Harel is not his true identity but a long-worn mask that he wishes he could ditch. The man Lavellan fell in love with is who he should be, who he wants to be. Far more underpowered than he’s comfortable with, sure, but the personality for certain. Just a person giving advice, discussing at length about topics he enioys, exploring memories and ruminating over them, smirking over small verbal sleights of hand and sly tricks, engaging in philosophical debates. All of that is already there, that is who he is in peacetime. The man has known war and conflict for so long that he has mentally split Solas and Fen’Harel as two people, because he needed to, but they are the same. Solas who has the martial prowess of Fen’Harel. Fen’Harel who possesses the capacity for wry levity and sincere artistic sentimentality of Solas. SOLAS YOU ARE BOTH AND MORE THAN THESE TWO HALVES.

[aquaticmercy]

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely. 

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training. 

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while. 

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track. 

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life. 

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise. 

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier. 

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet. 

Today he was going to ask you out. 

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased. 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike. 

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning. 

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned. 

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you. 

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary. 

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted. 

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head. 

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling. 

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now. 

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back. 

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first. 

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?” 

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools. 

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose. 

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work. 

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element. 

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter. 

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly. 

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together. 

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said. 

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike. 

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather. 

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier—  it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment. 

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted  as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair. 

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. 

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached. 

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved. 

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap. 

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win. 

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

[aiambia]

Okay hear me out: the answer is honesty.

Lucanis claims to be bad at romance and flirting but then tends to be rather charming in his romance scenes.

Why is that?

I don’t think he’s flirting on purpose and just thinks he’s bad at it. I think he’s just being honest and stumbles into being suave and charming by accident. Yes, some of his lines sound very flirty, but I think taking them at face value, as Lucanis just saying what’s on his mind rather than making an attempt to flirt, makes his romance feel much more genuine.

There’s a moment in his final romance scene (that I talk about here) that solidifies this idea of honesty for me: Rook can set Lucanis up for an easy flirty sex joke when they say:

“Stay up? All night? However shall we pass the time?”

But instead of making the joke or being flirty about it, Lucanis says:

“Would you talk to me? Your voice is a comfort.”

It’s an incredibly vulnerable moment packed into a single line of dialogue. It reaffirms Lucanis’s earlier desire to spend time with Rook now that they’re here, now that they’re back. It’s also an admission of how vulnerable he feels. He’s an assassin facing the hardest contract he will ever have to complete, knowing that if he fails to (help) kill Elger’nan, then the world ends. Under all of that pressure, the one thing that he wants as a stress reliever and to calm him, ground him, is not sex or romance or any sort of grand display. All he wants is to spend time with Rook and listen to their voice.

So then, taking what we’ve learned from his last romance scene and retroactively applying it to his earlier romance scenes, you can feel how genuine and vulnerable Lucanis is when you just take him at face value. Of course he doesn’t get why Rook likes him—he’s just being himself and doesn’t think he is or has done anything special to deserve their affection.

Now compare the idea of an honest and vulnerable Lucanis to the one time he actually does try to be flirty:

He pins Rook against the wall and he’s talking all suave, but then he panics and can’t commit to a kiss. He’s certainly charming, but trying to be so alluring puts him waaaayyy out of his element. It freaks him out (in combination with his self-doubt and issues he has yet to work out with Spite at that point), and he can’t continue. And then we never see him attempt to be flirty again.

When you lock in his romance, Lucanis implies that the dessert is a form of apology. He’s doing something special, not to flirt or charm, but to apologize and make up for everything he’s put Rook through. He says that the dessert “[is] nothing. Or not enough.” He can’t figure out any other way to express his gratitude and appreciation for all that Rook has done for him, except to cook something that they might enjoy.

During a Lucanis and Neve banter, she teases him saying that “Rook is good for you” and (if you get the banter while you’re not at the lighthouse) Lucanis doesn’t take the opportunity to flirt with Rook. He just says that Neve is right.

And then at the post-dealing with Illario cafe date, the most romantic thing he says in the entire scene is him saying that he never expected to be there with Rook, “…but here we are.”

None of this is flirting, and yet when he talks, it’s still charming. Why? Because honesty is charming. It’s vulnerable and the fact that Lucanis repeatedly trusts Rook enough to be vulnerable with them is why he comes across as alluring.

It all culminates to a rather impactful “I love you” because he’s been so honest and genuine throughout the rest of the game. He says it and you know he means it. You can see the devotion in his eyes. There is no teasing or coyness because he doesn’t know how to do that (in a romantic sense).

Lucanis himself, in all of his honesty, genuine care for Rook, and appreciation for all that Rook has done is what makes him charming. He is a violently swinging pendulum of awkward and rizz god because he’s just saying what’s on his mind. Sometimes that honesty is going to come out sounding awkward as hell and sometimes he’s going to sound like he’s jumped out of a romance novel.

Lucanis doesn’t present himself to Rook as anything other than who he is, even when he tries to hide and protect Rook (and the team) from Spite. It makes his romance so genuine. You’re not falling for flirty and suave seduction from a professional assassin. You’re falling in love with a guy who expresses his feelings through food and tells Rook the truth because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Lucanis is a violently swinging pendulum of awkward and literal rizz god. How is he so bad but the coffee date cute af, and that scene in the pantry soooo goooood!?!?!

How does his confession never involve actually saying anything or physical intimacy of any kind and just him making a dessert (before you come for me, yes, I know most of his conversations are layered with romantic subtext), then later says he loves you with his whole chest?

Why does he consistently fumble when talking about romance or giving advice when with companions, but will pull mad suave lines on Rook?

This man has no idea why you like him but will turn around and say the cutest shit and demand to snuggle.

Sir... SIR...SIIIIIRRRRR!!!!!!

Listen here, babygirl. I WILL marry you. Don't try me.

[suguru-getos]

“i have scars in my hands from touching certain people” — cult leader! geto x monkey! F->reader

genre: fluff, angst, comfort, budding building relationships between sugu and the reader. taunting, trauma. it’s a mix of everything really. (mentions of gore & killings, mentions of locking up the reader, suguru has caged her basically but he’s very suguru-like about it :3)

the lunch was so eerie, quiet, but so unlike the geto estate’s normal day to day. suguru was sitting eating quietly at the head’s chair, to his right side was mimiko, nanako to the left, manami, miguel, larue and a few others he proudly calls family seated. the farthest from him was you. and somehow the nearest — for you sat right in front of him at the other leader chair. you’re not one to talk anyways, despite the silence being deadly.

suguru found you a few months ago, when his temper got the better off of him on an italy trip with his dearest precious angelic girls. your friends were taking a seat right behind, the dinner place otherwise secluded. maybe it was how loud you all were, or perhaps, how disrespectful your friends was when the waiter asked her to tone it down a little upon suguru’s urgency. he was here for some peace and quiet. it was liberating as is in his head to tolerate monkeys around, breathing, heart beating against their chests & living… he couldn’t help but kill everyone.

the sound of bodies trampled by something you can’t see, some screams— you were luckily in the rest room & you didn’t dare come out. suguru knew better though, he knew you were here. his eyes had lingered a little too long when you came inside this place anyway. he gets up, eyes clinging together in his usual smile, headpatting nanako. “i will check if there are others.” the girls wished their geto sama wasn’t so temperamental all the time. but whenever suguru was amongst monkeys, it seemed like the infinite, ocean-like patience he harbors fades & evaporates from within him. she sighs, watching suguru walk towards the entrance of the restroom. a few more screams… “happy birthday to me.” she scoffs, looking down.

when it came down to you, a terrified little girl leaning against the restroom corner of one of the stalls, eyes closed, ears covered, he knew he might just make an exception. maybe it was to show mimiko & nanako that he didn’t kill them all & he is working on his actions… maybe he just knew you’d have nowhere to go, all your companions & friends were dead. he purses his lips, eyes blearing hard in annoyance. "get up." you still remember the command that ran through your skin. you get up, trying not to cry at the man, big and looming, a feet taller than you, his face smeared in blood. "please don't kill me. i wouldn't say anything..." you manage to croak, voice hoarse at the panic it brings you.

"i wouldn't. shut up." he seethes, a warning pretty clear the way your shoulders slump and you quiver. you don't want to make sure you die right here.

...the rest is history, suguru took you to the room in italy, the girls just mingled with you within a few days. then, he took you to japan. you had work, you had a life, but you didn't want to say anything after you saw your friends lifeless. you hated geto suguru, but your silence was all you could possibly do.

it's been a few months to this now, eventually, you're at a stage where things have changed. your family thinks you have 'moved in' with your boyfriend, you had obviously resigned from work and on being asked to serve your notice or pay fine, suguru slapped the fine on their faces. you just exist in this estate when geto sama is on his meetings, when the girls spend time learning, when miguel and larue are on missions... sometimes you take out time out of your already free day to write. but there's nothing else to your routine except being suguru's monkey pet.

you are traversing through your thoughts, and suguru clears his throat to snap you back to reality. "y/n. you didn't answer the question asked." oh shit- "sorry- what question?" "do you like the food?" he asks, observant, and ever so keen to know things about you. you have no idea why he does that. you have known he hates humans. the only people he has tolerated is your brother and your mom. when they came to 'visit' you. he played the boyfriend bit quite well, also. "yeah, s' great." you hum, taking another disinterested bite.

"really? i didn't like the spice level, you like spices too, don't you?" he hits you with another question. manami and larue are gazing at you, they don't know what kinda mood suguru is in at the moment. there are times he just locks you up for hours because he doesn't wish to contaminate the house with monkey stench. you don't want it to be one of those days either.

"i like it." you answered, not sure what is it that he wishes to hear.

suguru has also been like a quiet cat in the last few months. he just observes you, watches you keenly, accompanies you on your walks and has attached himself to a fleeting hope that you would eventually open up to him. you haven't asked him anything about himself, or ever expressed your discomfort. you don't want to talk about the instances where you and him have almost kissed for several times. or when you seek him out with sillies like, "do you want to take a walk? do you want to go and eat ice cream? do you wanna watch a movie?" there are moments with suguru which almost feel a little too domesticated. its not all bad.

there are moments when he clutches at your wrist and you feel the burn seep through your entire body, and then you hate yourself for it. there are moments you hate him and wish for him to die when you remember it's your friend's birthday and she's no more. there are a total of good and bad and even which you can't possibly count. there are times suguru hugs you for good mornings and then there are times he doesn't want to see your face. you both are struggling to accept each other.

"last time this was made, you didn't take a bite." he raises a brow. "so i made sure they had something you liked for store." he crosses his arms. raising a brow. oh goodness.. suguru geto and his fierce memory. "i like it now." you scoffed stubbornly.

the chair slides back and your heart sinks, suguru is coming towards you. there is a layer of panic in your body language that isn't unreadable despite there having enough close moments between you two. you flinched when he takes the last footstep, standing in front of you. his hand yanking the plate away and shoving it closer to your face. "does this look like the plate full of something you love?" he's right, you have barely taken a bite or two. you swallow thick, unsure why you're being lectured like a child. "sorry... i was just busy thinking about something but, i'll finish it." you mumbled, eyes glossed up at the sudden change. maybe its him who is in a bad mood today.

"no, i said i got something else." he yanks the plate against the wall, the crockery breaking the same time as a stray tear falls down your cheek. oh he's mad. its so evident the turmoil suguru is in when he's around you. you wish he didn't have to go through the psychological torture either, but its him that needs to understand that too. "don't be mad and ruin the dinner for everyone geto." your words have a slight gnaw, a warning. you don't know where you muster the strength to say all that but... you just do.

suguru is tamed just like that, a heavy sigh followed by an eye roll. you get up, wanting to leave when you feel his hand clasp around your wrist, tight, restricting some of your blood flow.

"i said, i got some food for you y/n" he raises a brow, why are you so difficult and why can't he kill you off. he knows he has a soft corner for you, he knows he ... loves you. which is why this hurts. he hates that fate had to choose no one but a fucking monkey for him. the very kind he hates has this much control over him. he wishes so bad that the feeling goes away, but his heart is taut between needing you near him and wanting to push you away.

"please." he murmurs like an injured lion next, leaning his hand away when you hiss in pain. so frail and breakable. he's so afraid to touch you wrong even, you're like a little bunny and he's this... big bad wolf. can't even hold you up well without hurting you. always extra careful... delighted to be extra careful. your hand reacts to his hold, turning redder and slightly blue. even though you're the one that's bruised, suguru is the one that's hurting.

"don't understand how weak someone can be." he hums, holding your hand gently and glaring at the wound. he hates this so much. then, there's always you attacking with words as well.

"oh you mean these physical wounds? eh, they're no problem. you can lock me up again if you're scared of hurting me physically, geto." you remind him that these are physical wounds, that this is something unrelated to the mental wounds he's given you.

"i have scars too, little one. so many scars from touching you." he replies, he also, means the emotional scars. you are a living, breathing reminder that his hate isn't enough after all.

"eat your food." suguru ends with a hum, despite everything, he can't let you go.

[livbedum]

i would love to learn more about maybank!reader being kidnapped by rafe like what happened? why’d he do it? when did it happen? how did his family react? did they know? how did jj and the pogues react?

GIVE ME A MINUTE

WE ARE SO FUCKING OVER!

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary requested!

warnings 18+ minors dni , profanity , kidnapping / drugging , violence

rafe had the fucking cross. after all that you had gone through in the day with pope nearly dying , crashing kie’s dad’s truck , john b fighting a gator , finding out jj ran into your dad , you were tired. but the night wasn’t over until you got the cross back for pope.

your eyes stayed on sarah and john b , who were clearly having a moment after their somewhat breakup. “you seriously think now is the time to talk about this?” sarah whisper yelled at him , giving him a look that called him stupid.

before jj could stop you , you headed in her direction and yanked her with you. “we have things to do. come on,” you grunted , heading towards tannyhill. when the two of you were far enough away from the boys you looked at sarah with a small smile. “he really does love you. enough to make him stupid,” you chuckled , making your way to the truck.

“i know,” she sighed , peeking into the driver’s seat, “we gotta find the keys though,” she added , getting back to business.

you nodded , not seeing them in the truck like you were hoping. “looks like we have to go inside,” you grimaced , knowing rafe was in there , knowing he would not be happy to see you like he usually was.

sarah looked over her shoulder to the boys quickly updating them that, “we’re going inside! we’ll be right back!” before ushering you into the house with her close behind. you both kept a lookout before moving too far into the foyer. “okay , i have to go find wheezie really quick— she’ll help us distract rafe. you find the keys , okay?”

you watched sarah plot for a moment on the situation before nodding in agreement. “just be safe. don’t want rafe flipping out on you again,” you warned her , holding her hand before letting go and rushing away.

the first obvious place to check was rafe’s room. you had been there so many times , it was easy to avoid the creaks in the floor on the way to his bedroom door. you had been lucky not to see anyone yet. so , quietly your hand twisted at the golden knob before cracking the door open as slow as possible.

after the copious amount of times you snuck into tannyhill , you knew better than to let rafe’s old door creak when you opened it. as soon as the opening was wide enough for you to slip in , you did , closing the door softly behind you , shutting yourself inside.

and that’s when you heard the shower stop running , making you blood run cold. now was not the time to bump into rafe. not when the boys were outside , not when sarah was upstairs , and not while he had the cross you were absolutely trying to steal back from him. that wasn’t an option.

your eyes darted around the room you were so familiar with , catching a glimpse of the nightstand that had the keychain sitting on top of it. you could still hear rafe in his en suite bathroom , so you rushed to grab the keys. they clanked against the wooden stand , causing you to cringe at the disturbance of quiet. “shit,” you cursed as they slipped out of your hand and into the floor , making even more of a ruckus as the bathroom door opened wide.

there was nothing else to do in that moment other than freeze. caught like a deer in headlights , you looked up and saw rafe standing in the doorway , towel around his hips , chest heaving and already looking down at you. you were crouched down , actively reaching for the keys again.

“what are you doing here?” oh. he’s playing it safe. he raised his eyebrows at you as he bent over , slowly grabbing the keys from the floor. he stayed low , looking into your eyes for a moment before rising completely and taking the keys with him to his dresser.

you took a deep breath and stood up , trying to gauge how this was going to go. “sarah was complaining about missing something the other day , so i thought i could come by and grab it,” you lied , watching him as he got dressed, “heard you in the shower and stopped in while i could. missed you,” you added , stepping closer to rafe before reaching out and touching his damp back.

his skin twitched under the contact. “yeah?” he chuckled , turning around with a smile, “came in here just for me?”

“what else?” you asked , matching his smile as you leaned up to press a kiss into his cheek before retreating back a few feet.

“you’re not here because you know i have the cross?” rafe questioned , stepping forward , effectively forcing you back toward his bed, “not here to steal my fucking keys? and take off with the cross that i found!” he shouted , trapping you where you were pressed against the edge of his bed frame.

your eyes betrayed you , flashing a vulnerable fear in them when he yelled. “no , baby,” you shook your head quickly just like your voice, “no , of course not.”

“stop lying to me!” again , rafe’s voice practically rattled the window panes, “you shouldn’t have fucking come here , y/n! you’re so fucking stupid. should’ve just minded your business! constantly forcing my hand to do things i don’t want to do!” he continued getting dressed , throwing a jacket on.

“rafe , you’re scaring me,” you admitted , sinking into the mattress in an attempt to get away from him.

a low chuckle came from his throat as he turned and looked at you. “this isn’t my fault,” he started, “you—“

“rafe! can you come help me pack my bag?”

wheezie.

your chest deflated , finally able to catch a breath when rafe moved his eyes to the door where wheezie was bound to walk through in a moment. “here , baby. you can have the keys to the truck,” rafe smiled , tossing the keys at you before going to the door and stepping into the hallway before wheezie got to you both.

you caught the keys , pushing yourself up off the bed and rushing to the door. the knob giggled in your hand as you tried to open it , but the locked clicked into place on the other side. “have to do everything for you people,” rafe grumbled to his little sister before you could hear his footsteps getting quieter.

“fuck! fuck , fuck , fuck,” you grumbled , hand hitting at the door, “rafe , let me the fuck out right now!” you yelled , banging against the door even harder , keys still jingling in your hand.

“y/n?” sarah’s voice came out worried and rushed through the door, “y/n/n , are you in there?” her hand tapped against the wood on the other side of yours.

“sare? sarah , i can’t get out. you have to pick the lock or something,” you explained , turning to look for something on your side of the door to help.

“okay , it’s okay,” sarah assured you, “i got you.”

you could here some sort of rattling on her end , assuming she found something to jam inside the lock to get you out. “i got the keys!” you smiled with a sniffle , trying to look at the bright side , but you knew it wasn’t long until rafe returned to his room and caught sarah this time.

the lock clicked , sliding out of place before sarah pushed it open. “oh , my god!” she breathed out , yanking you in for a hug before you both ran out of the room, “gimme the keys , and let’s go.”

you tossed her the key chain , following her out of the house and back to the truck. “what’re you doing?” you whispered when sarah kept moving to the back.

“i wanna make sure it’s still in here,” sarah explained , fumbling with the keys before finding one that fit into the lock on the back door.

“okay , well hurry it up before rafe finds both of us,” you urged her , checking over your shoulder for any sign of him. as if your words triggered the reaction , the lock undid itself , and sarah pulled the door open before stopping. “what is it?”

you moved to take a look yourself only to freeze just like sarah did , keeping eye contact with the man you saw in the truck with rafe earlier. he laid lifeless on the ground next to the cross , eyes boring into your own. “what did he do?” you sighed , assuming rafe was the one who killed the man. who else would’ve?

“you guys really shouldn’t have done that.” it was rafe’s voice that came from behind you just before you felt his arms wrap around you and a sharp pinch in the side of your neck. his hands released you , letting you stumble away as your hand reached up to you neck.

“rafe?”

he didn’t bother looking at you , only dropping the now empty syringe to the ground and grabbing sarah. you could only watch as sarah struggled against her brother’s grip , feeling time slow and your heart beat much harder than it was before. “rafe , what are you doing?” she kicked at him , but it wasn’t a fair match.

the last thing you saw was rafe dragging sarah back inside before you stumbled back and tripped. your arms flew back , trying to catch your fall , but there you laid on the ground almost as lifeless as the man in the truck.

you don’t remember anything as you wake up , but the moment your eyes open , you know where you were. the way the mattress sank beneath and around you , the feel of the silk pillow case under your head. you were in rafe’s room. again.

you sat up quickly , looking around to see if sarah was locked in with you , but you were alone. throwing the comforter off of your body , you swung your legs off the edge of the bed. “rafe?” you spoke quietly but loud enough to where he would hear you if he was in the area, “babe? what’s going on?” you called out a little louder but sweeter when you didn’t get a response.

“rafe!” your voice was louder this time , a little angrier when you realized he had left you in the room alone. “rafe cameron , let me out of this room! help! wheezie? rose!” you roared , running to the door to try and open it. you shoved your body against the wood , trying to break it down as if that would ever happen. “rafe!” you called out again far weaker than before.

catching your breath , you moved back to the bed to stabilize yourself. your head was still fuzzy with whatever rafe shot you up with. you sat down , head hanging low as you tried to think everything through.

rafe gave you a shot.

he took sarah inside.

you woke up in his room.

you were alone.

sarah wasn’t with you.

you steadied yourself again before standing up from the bed , moving to the door the bang on it more. “sarah! sarah , where are you?” you shouted , the door muffling your cries, “sare?”

there wasn’t a response. only the quiet hum of the air conditioning filling the heavy space around you. you slid down against the door , falling to the floor in defeat. you couldn’t get out of rafe’s room by yourself last time ; sarah helped you , and where did that get her?

your eyes scanned the room , catching sight of the flowers you had brought rafe not that long ago as an apology for your last fight. you apologized to him , and this is what he does next?

pushing yourself up , you move to the fireplace and grab the vase before launching it at the bedroom door. that would cause concern if your yelling hadn’t already. “rafe , let me out of here before i keep going!” you screamed , grabbing the next thing you could grab and throwing it the same direction as the broken vase and flowers. “we are so fucking over!”

by the time rafe was ushered away from sarah in the basement , you had already destroyed half of his valuables. the laptop he had on his desk , photo frames of his family and even some of you , his cologne bottles in the bathroom , and all of his watches had been thrown across the room as well.

“what the fuck!” rafe barged into the room , slamming the door behind him as he took in the sight of the floor and you, “what the fuck are you doing?” he yelled , grabbing you by the shoulders, “what the actual fuck , y/n?”

“you drugged me!” you argued , shoving at his chest, “you drugged me , rafe! and locked me in your room!” you kept shoving , hitting at him before he had enough and grabbed you. his grip forced you into the bed face down as he held you in place.

“stop fucking yelling , and stop fucking shoving me,” he grunted in your ear , pushing your body down again to get his point across, “calm the fuck down and we’ll talk.”

“get off of me!” you cried , trying to fight him , but his weight alone was enough to keep you down.

“not until you calm down , baby,” he replied, “you keep making me do shit i don’t wanna do. how is this my fault?” he asked you , lifting up enough to let you take a completely breath.

you looked up at him from the bed , eyes wide and tear filled. “you— you killed that guy,” you muttered, “you killed that guy , and you’re going to kill me and sarah , right?” you couldn’t help but let the absolute worst thoughts bubble to the surface.

rafe heard the words you spoke despite being coughed out through your tears , and he softened entirely. “what?” he moved , letting you go and sitting down next to you , but your body couldn’t move. you were frozen on the bed , terrified of what would happen if you tried to run. the only movement you could make was flinching away when rafe’s hand came up to gently move the hair out of your face.

“i didn’t kill anyone.” he said it like a fact , when you knew it wasn’t. peterkin. he killed peterkin , but you knew better than to bring that up ever again. “well , at least not that guy,” he added with a soft laugh, “and i wouldn’t do that to you , y/n. i love you ; don’t you see? i’m doing this all for you!” your eyes followed his movements as he got on his knees by the bed and laid his head by yours to look you in the eye. “we’re going away. i got the cross and sarah and you. okay , we’re leaving tonight. i just gotta take care of some things , but in the meantime you and sarah are going to go with rose and wheezie to the wharf.”

you felt his hand crawl up your back , stopping on your neck and holding you down without any force— just a precaution. “i love you , and i’m sorry , but you gotta come with. cuz i gotta go , and i can’t leave without you,” he continued , and you nodded , going along with whatever he was saying , none of which you understood.

“okay,” you croaked , nodding again.

“just need you to go back to sleep for a bit , ‘kay?” he had tears in his own eyes. he hated seeing you look so afraid of him. that’s the last thing he wanted. he was doing this all for you. he convinced his dad to let you come with because he loved you so much he couldn’t live without you. and you looked at him with fear. “love you , princess,” he whispered , kissing your forehead before standing up and grabbing something from the nightstand you hadn’t seen before.

“wait , rafe. no , no , no. please—“ your pleas were cut off by rafe covering your mouth and inserting another needle into your skin.

“okay , john b , you need to get sarah. me and pope will just y/n/n,” jj planned , huddling up with his boys before they stormed the cameron castle. only before they could break , rafe came waltzing out of the house and into the truck once again before taking off.

pope didn’t hesitate to run after the truck , hiding in the blind spot to hop on the back. jj and john b scrambled in place , not knowing to go after pope or the girls in the house , but the brake lights disappearing made their decision for them. pope could handle his own.

“wait— b , look,” jj hit john b’s arm , pointing at the scene happening in the cameron’s driveway.

rose was busying herself with shoving you in the backseat of the car , not understanding why on earth you were tagging along , but not wanting to push rafe even further tonight. wheezie followed behind , struggling to move sarah’s drugged up body by herself.

as soon as you were properly buckled and locked away in the back , rose moved to help wheezie , lying about how you and sarah wasn’t feeling too good.

“okay , well we gotta get them,” john b stated , already running after the car that had started to pull out of the driveway.

the boys banged on the windows , begging wheezie to unlock the door or for one of you to wake up and do it yourself. Rose just sped off , leaving the boys behind.

“twinkie! get the twinkie! we gotta go!” jj shouted , sprinting off towards the van so they could follow rose’s car across the island.

if you didn’t feel like shit waking up in rafe’s room , you definitely did now. your entire body was sore , head spinning , and for some reason you felt like you were swaying even as you laid down. despite not knowing where you were exactly at this time , you could figure it out if you took a moment to.

the bobbing , the salt air , the horn in the distance.

you were on a fucking boat , but you didn’t get much time to stress about it before you heard people outside your door arguing.

“rafe , you drugged her. that is kidnapping! and you made me an accomplice! for a pogue? who even is this girl?!” rose , if you assumed correctly , was clearly on your side of the kidnapping , not so much for you but for her.

you could practically see rafe roll his eyes from this side of the door. “dad , you said she could come. she’s here. she’s coming.” if the circumstances had been different , your heart would’ve swelled with pride at the fact that rafe was standing up to ward , especially when it came to you.

“not like this , son!” ward’s voice powerful as ever argued.

wait— ward?

you pushed yourself up from the couch you were laid on and moved to the door , stumbling with the waves beneath the ship. cautiously , you turned the handle and surprisingly pushed through. “rafe?”

your voice was softer than the three that continued arguing , but it still pulled them out of their conversation. all eyes were on you instantly. rose was the first to speak up. “y/n , sweetie , why don’t you go lie back down? rafe said you hit your head earlier. you must need rest.” it all sounded sweet in theory , but you knew it was all a story and fake concern.

“my head feels fine,” you snipped quickly , looking to rafe again before moving your eyes to the undead, “was hoping you were actually blown up by that boat , ward.” as much as you hated rafe for what he had done to you in the past however many hours , your blood boiled at the sight of ward. you were there for rafe when he died ; you picked up the pieces ; you encouraged him to keep going. even before his fake death , you had to be there for rafe when ward flipped out on him. every. single. time.

ward only spared you a glance before pointing at rafe and muttering a “clean this shit up , boy,” before walking away with rose.

“why the fuck did you wake up with an attitude?” rafe cursed , ushering you back into the room you were just in.

you crossed your arms and stared at him indifferently. “maybe because you drugged me , rafe. again,” you stated like he was an idiot for asking , despite knowing he hated when people spoke to him like that. you didn’t exactly care about his feelings in the moment. “you have done a lot of things to me that are awful , rafe , but this— wow , this takes the cake.”

“i did what i had to do to get you here,” rafe groaned , stepping towards you with open hands. you backed away , instinctively. “oh , my fucking god! you’re so dramatic , y/n!”

“and you’re psychotic!” you quickly yelled back , hugging yourself with your arms as you kept your distance from him, “where’s sarah? i want sarah.”

rafe sighed , running a hand down is face. “she’s with our family right now. she doesn’t feel good.”

“i want to see her.”

“she’s busy,” rafe simply denied your request, “do you want a water , baby?” you flinched as tried to step closer to you again. “y/n , seriously , knock it off,” he grunted , getting more irritated by your lack of willingness to just fucking comply with what’s going on, “everything’s going to be fine. i have it all handled. i just needed to get you here.”

you shook your head , slowly crossing the room. “no. i don’t want to be here. i want to go home , rafe. i want to call jj. please,” you asked him , tears filling your eyes at the beginning of accepting that you were in a situation you most likely weren’t getting out of, “rafe , look at what you’ve done,” you started, “look what you did to me.”

rafe didn’t listen though. he turned his head , not wanting to see the truth. he got you here. that’s what mattered. “you can call jj when we dock,” he muttered , trying to reach his hand out to you again before dropping it to his side, “but you’re not leaving until then.”

“we are so fucking over , rafe.” it was said definitively.

and it was like you were living in a loop when rafe slipped out the door and closed it behind him , when you heard the sound of a lock being put in place , holding you in the room you woke up in. your eyes stared blankly at the red , painted metal before you fell back into the couch. “i’m so fucked.”

at least that’s what it felt like.

a/n holy shit this took a minute and it isn’t proofed or anything so ignore any typos

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @ravenmedows @yootvi @icaqttt @inlovewithmorales @spoiledbratspostsblog @heartsforandrewgarfield @stoned-writer

[remiratboi]

Death - Part 1

Masterlist

Death Personified M X Human GN Fat Reader

CW: Pet death, grief, death (obvi?), masturbation, monsterfucking, yandere if you squint, not sure what else yet, will add as I go.

Death wasn’t a single entity. It was more of a group. A way of being. There were hundreds holding the name “Death”. He didn’t know any others though. They didn’t interact. It was a solitary life. Flitting from life to life, helping souls move on. He held a rudimentary understanding of why the creatures around the souls would mourn, but it was a beautiful thing to him. He lived in an in-between realm. Not quite dead, not quite alive. Very few could see him, and most only could shortly before they themselves moved on.

This was why he was in their home. It was dark. He knew they were around. He had been checking up on the cat who lived with them for a couple days now. She was close to death.

He stood next to the couch she was curled up on. He preferred to take creatures gently. He was not malicious. He chose the souls who were ready to move on. The cat looked up at him with one eye, not bothering to move her head. She was frail. He could see her vision wasn’t strong. He mewled at her and she stretched her paw out towards him.

Death leaned down to press his finger into her paw when a voice snapped him out of his focus.

“Please don’t.” It was shaky and sorrow filled. Death turned around to see you. You stood in the door frame, illuminated by the light behind. Your face was covered in tears. You could see him? He hadn’t felt any connection that would signal your ability to see beings like him. And he knew you weren’t close to death. How could you see him?

He stared longer than he should, dumbfounded and with no idea how to respond. You sniffled and continued. “Please, just wait until tomorrow. I understand, it’s…. She’s old. But can I please have one last night with her?” You begged.

He took advantage of the out, and rather than trying to respond, he swiftly ran away. He didn’t go far though. He had been rattled, and he didn’t like it. He spent his eternity alone. Only dying and dark could see him. He avoided the dark, and the dying never saw him for long. But you were neither? You frustrated and intrigued him. He would never admit that the way your plush body had looked, and the way your skimpy pjs clung tightly to your form had also intrigued him.

It wasn’t unheard of for his kind to get involved with humans, or each other. But it was forbidden. And dangerous. That much power with something so frail had resulted in more often than not, a soul ripped from their body before their time.

Death’s touch wasn’t always an execution. He could control the touch. But it was difficult and took immense focus. Something others had learned too late, that they were worse at than they had thought.

He sat now, on your porch railing, gazing through the rain that fell in the night sky. He watched you through your windows. He never realised you could probably see him. He was so used to passing through unknown that he didn’t even consider it.

You made a fancy chicken dinner for your pet, he assumed her favourite. You curled up on that same couch with her and hand fed her. You cried. A lot. He wondered what it felt like to mourn. He wondered what it felt like to love enough to mourn. He wasn’t supposed to give creatures more time, but he hadn’t been able to look you in the eyes and take something you clearly loved so much.

You cried yourself to sleep sometime in the night. He floated through the wall and stopped in front of your pair of sleeping forms. You looked beautiful. Your face was no longer tensed by emotion and he could see the freckles that covered your nose. Soft eyelashes fluttered against your apple cheeks.

He reached down to touch them, before catching himself. What was he doing? You were human. You weren’t for him. Also, he was about to kill your cat. He thought you probably wouldn’t appreciate waking up to have death touching your face before taking something you loved so deeply, away from you.

But he didn’t move his hand from where it was. Stretched out in front of him, inches away from your face. He was shocked by his own desire. Had he ever felt desire before? He didn’t think so. You were just so soft. You looked so safe and comfortable. He imagined running his fingers down your curves, feeling every inch of you.

The sun started shining through the windows and he realized he’d been standing there for far too long. You might wake up soon.

He turned from you, eyes dragging. He looked down at your sleeping cat. He felt bad. There was another new emotion. He knew it was better, and that her soul would continue on in peace. But he also knew you loved her. For some reason, he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain.

He steadied himself and shook his head. This was what he had to do. This was what he was made to do. It was his only purpose. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your pet’s head, her exhale as he did, her last.

He watched her soul coalesce above her body and then dissipate. He had seen it hundreds, maybe thousands of times. It was beautiful every time.

He looked back down to you and took an instinctual step back as he realised your eyes were open. You looked up at him with a teary gaze.

“Th… thank you.” You said. His throat felt thick. You were thanking him? “Thank you for letting me say goodbye.” You finished. You curled your body around your pet and sobbed into her fur. He felt like he was intruding.

He started to turn away but hesitated. He looked back down at you. His chest hurt. He reached out a shaky hand and lingered above you again. He fought with himself. He should leave. He’d been here too long already.

But he couldn’t help himself.

He reached down, and so gently you could have mistaken it for wind had there been any, he brushed your hair from your face.

And then he was gone.

[thesecondhandwoman]

A FLAVORFUL SURPRISE

Vi x f!reader

Summary: You and Vi have been dating for sometime, and one thing she’s learned is that you are obsessed with chapstick. But when you buy a new one, she decides that she also wants a taste of them, on your lips.

You and Vi had been together for a while now, and one of the things she loved teasing you about was your ever-expanding chapstick collection. It had started innocently enough, but now, every time you went out, you found yourself drawn to new flavors, whether you meant to or not. It was your little guilty pleasure, and Vi knew it all too well.

Today, you came home with another addition: a tropical fruit blend—mango and coconut. You had a soft spot for fruity scents, and this one was calling your name.

Wanting to try it as soon as possible, you pulled it out of your pocket, twisting the cap off and swiping it across your lips.

Vi, who was lounging on the couch scrolling through her phone, noticed the motion and glanced up. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the chapstick in your hand.

“Another one?” Vi smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I swear, your collection’s gonna take over our whole place.”

She sat up, clearly amused. “What’d you get this time?”

You chuckled, feeling her eyes on you as you smoothed the chapstick over your lips. “Mango and coconut. Thought I’d go for something tropical today”

Vi’s playful smirk turned into an exaggerated pout as she folded her arms. “Mango and coconut? Getting bold with your choices, huh?” she teased.

You shrugged, grinning at her. “Gotta keep it interesting, you know how it is. Plus, it was the store's new flavor, so..”

Vi pushed herself off the couch and stepped closer, her gaze never leaving the chapstick. She’d always been curious about your collection, often teasing you about how you had one for every occasion. But today, she seemed especially interested.

“Can I try some?” Vi asked, her voice light and playful. “I mean, you always get new ones, but you never let me try. C’mon, just a little taste?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew she was joking, but the way she looked at you made your stomach flutter. You hesitated for just a moment before handing her the chapstick. “Alright, alright, you can try.”

Vi took it from your hand but didn’t immediately swipe it onto her own lips. Instead, she tugged you closer, her hands gentle but firm on your waist. You blinked in surprise as she pulled you toward her, her warm breath brushing against your face.

“Vi?” you asked, voice suddenly a little breathless. “What are you—”

She cut you off with a mischievous grin, her lips brushing against yours before you could say anything more. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle press of lips, but the moment you felt her pull you even closer, it deepened, and your breath caught.

Vi’s hand slid to the back of your neck, her touch tender but insistent. You froze for a second, stunned by the sudden shift, but then you melted into the kiss, feeling her warmth, tasting the sweetness of the mango and coconut chapstick on her lips. Your mind raced, short-circuiting in a whirl of heat and surprise.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes glimmered with mischief, and a satisfied smile played at the corners of her lips.

“Mm…” Vi hummed, her voice soft with amusement. “Well, I’ll be damned. It really does taste like mango and coconut. You weren’t just making that up, huh?”

You were still recovering from the kiss, your thoughts scattered and your face burning. “I—I wasn’t making it up,” you stammered, still trying to process what had just happened.

Vi chuckled, her smile never faltering. She leaned her forehead against yours, teasing, “Well, looks like I’ve got more flavors to try then, don’t I?”

Your heart skipped again as you realized she wasn’t done. You could barely form a response, your brain still on overload. “Vi…” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Vi kissed the tip of your nose, her grin widening. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be gentle. But you’re definitely gonna have to share more of your collection with me now.”

You let out a nervous laugh, your mind still spinning from the kiss. The only thing you were sure of now was that, no matter how many chapsticks you had in your collection, there was no flavor you’d ever crave more than Vi’s lips and those sweet kisses they gave you.

[seitmai]

As always many thoughts...

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters." "Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch.

Of course he wouldn't 😅

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something." "Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her. "They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

Hahah this whole conversation cracked me up 😂

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

Ok rude of Bradley, it was just a nice thought 🙄😒

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered." "Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

🥰🥰🥰

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner. "You're never fast! You like to linger!" "It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

Haha I can't with him

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

Of course he does 🤭

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. "I could always nurse you later if you want." "I take it you're interested in my offer." "Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off."

🤭🤭🤭

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

Oh no, she is too hard on herself 🥺

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel."

Oh don't act like a saint Jake, we all know you wanna marry her sooner rather than later an if Cat had a buch of trauma and needs time because of that, they would have been married already 😅

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Dad Jake 🥹🥰

Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Maybe maybe there is something else going on, hmm 🤭

"You look like a DILF."

He sure does 😌

"Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?" You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

Hahaha this is so Bradley 😅

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight. "You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

He just loves to be with his girls 🥰

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.

🥰🥰🥰 

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

He is living his best life 😅

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away?

Yes, he absolutely 100% is

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

Oh oh this feels like trouble 😬🫣

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

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

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

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

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you." 

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

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

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

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

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[loves0phelia]

The Maybank Twins

Summery: which dream would you pick?

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: grammar mistakes

A/N: Sorry I feel like this fic is all over the place and barely understandable but I had the idea of JJ having a twin since I learned JJ's real name was Jackson so I hope you like it anyway xx

JJ and Jackson were intensely different despite being twins. But it wasn't always like that.

Both boys were born kooks, but as children, the status did not matter. Being a kook or a pogue didn't have a meaning until you grew up. Kids from both sides of the island enjoyed playing with each other. That's why when they met you they didn't hesitate to befriend you even if you were a pogue.

On a beautiful Saturday, you took your shiny pink bike and began pedalling down the roads around town to the point where you crossed the line into Kook territory. You knew your dad wouldn't like you travelling so far from home but you loved to admire the large houses with picket fences and pools. You always dreamed of visiting one. 

As you were looking with dreamy eyes at everything but the path in front of you, the front wheel of your bike caught the side of a sidewalk.  The handlebars jerked to one side, and you tumbled forward. Hitting the ground with a soft thud, your knees scraped against the rough concrete.    

You sat up slowly, tears welling in your eyes as you examined your knees. Both were scraped and red, with tiny spots of blood forming on the surface. Your palms stung from catching yourself.

The commotion probably alerted some people because next thing you knew two boys around the same age as you came running out of the house you were wrecked in front of.   

They both darted out of the yard, weaving through the iron gate and across the street to where you sat on the concrete.  

“Hey, are you okay?” one of them asked, crouching down beside you.  

You sniffled, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “I fell off my bike.”  

“Come in, we can give you a bandaid,”  the second boy said without hesitation, looking at your scraped knees.

The first boy reached for your bike to place it to safety while the second helped you up on your feet and helped you inside the large mansion-looking house.

Inside, it felt even bigger. The tall ceiling and window looked fantastic. You almost forgot your pain as you looked over the various decorations.

“There sit” You sat down slowly on the gray cushions of the couch and tried to not get any blood on it.

“I’m JJ by the way, that was a badass fall, It looked so cool” He smiled and laughed, for a moment you were almost proud.

“Don't say that JJ she could have been really hurt and it's not cool” The boy crouched in front of you with a cloth soaked in lukewarm water and pressed it to your knee.

“You're just boring, Jackson, you don't think anything is cool!” JJ argued with his brother and Jackson furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yes, I do!” They continued bickering next to you until a beautiful blond lady came into the room.

“Boys, what is going on?” She asked with her hands on her hips looking over her twins.

The childish argument stopped immediately as if both of them were soothed by their mother's presence. “We saw this girl fall off her bike, we wanted to help her” JJ muttered.

“Did you guys ask her, her name?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. But both of them shook their heads. “I thought I raised you two to be gentlemen, what's your name honey?” 

“y/n” 

“That's such a pretty name, I hope these boys weren't too much of a pain for you” She whispered but JJ and Jackson definitely heard and you simply giggled.

This was the moment you began to be a constant person in their lives. Both of them loved you until they grew up and this love changed into something more.

When you all all turned from children to teenagers the words kooks and pogues began to have a meaning. You were now divided into two groups, rich and poor. But the boys didn't agree with this mindset. Especially JJ. After their mom died he became reckless. He Jumped on any opportunity to go on an adventure or to feel just an ounce of adrenaline. He was sick of the bubble wrap and wanted to live freely like the pogues.

Jackson on the other end even though he disliked the hate between each side of the island, he refused to drop everything like his brother to live a careless life. He wanted to go to college, he wanted to have a bright future, with a beautiful house, a wife and maybe even kids. He wanted the picket fence dream.

And you? You didn't know which dream to pick.

The dream with JJ where everything is joyful and exciting. 

Or the dream with Jackson where everything is soothing and comforting.

JJ

The Bluetooth speaker blasted an upbeat song, filling the small living room with pounding bass and lyrics. JJ stood in the center of the room, wearing his signature goofy grin and wildly waving an imaginary microphone in the air.  

“AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!” he screamed, his voice cracking in all the wrong places.  

You rolled over on the couch in laughter, clutching your stomach. “JJ, you’re ruining Whitney Houston! That’s a crime!”  You both laughed as the song ended and Don't Stop Me Now by Queen started playing

“You think that’s bad? Just wait for this!” JJ leaped onto the couch with a dramatic flair, now holding an empty glass beer bottle as a microphone. “DON’T STOP ME NOW! I’M HAVIN SUCH A GOOD TIME”  

“ I’M HAVIN’ A BALL!” You screamed following the lyrics, jumping up to join him. You grabbed a remote control off the coffee table and sang into it like it was your own microphone, matching JJ’s energy note for note.  

“You’re awful!” he yelled over the music, grinning ear to ear.  

“Excuse me?” You shot back, pretending to be offended. “I’m carrying this!”  

“Please, you’re the backup singer at best!”  

“Asshole!” You gasped and pushed him making him stumble and fall on his butt on the soft cushion but he quickly recovered, standing back up and grabbing you by the hand to dance on the dirty rug. Without a second thought, he turned bringing you with him and dipping you as dramatically as he could making you both burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

He pressed a big messy kiss on your cheek and laughed again at the disgusted face you made before wiping away the saliva with his palm. 

The next song started—a slow, cheesy love ballad. JJ struck a mock-serious pose, reaching out a hand. “May I have this dance, milady?”  

You rolled your eyes but played along, taking his hand. “You may, good sir.”  

You swayed dramatically around the room, both purposefully stepping on each other’s feet and exaggerating every movement. JJ spun you out and back in, and you both collapsed onto the couch in a heap of laughter as the song ended.  

“That was awful,” You said, catching your breath.  

“The worst,” JJ agreed, his head tilted back against the cushions. Then he glanced at you, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “Wanna go again?”  

“Duh.”  

It was always like that between you and JJ. Loud, obnoxious, happy. You both never caught a break in each other's presence. But you loved it, you loved him.

JACKSON

Your fist knocks softly on the door of the twin's house. The sound feels like it echoes in the home. After a couple of seconds of nothing, no voice, no footsteps you try again. Louder this time.

“JJ I swear if you forgot your keys again- oh hey” the door swung open revealing the twin you were looking for.

“Hey Jacks.” you smile noticing his messy blond hair meaning he was probably taking a nap.

“Uhm JJ isn't here” he scratched the back of his head and leaned on the doorframe.

“Actually I came to see you… we haven't hung out much lately” you said looking up at him.

“Yeah sorry, I've been studying a lot and I saw you and JJ hang out often. I didn't want to bother you know”

“You never bother, I'm your friend too” he nodded and lifted himself off the frame to let you into the house you knew so well. It was honestly a second home to you.

His room was dimly lit, and much cleaner than JJ’s. You and him lay side by side on the bed, your legs tangled in the blankets.  

He stared up at the ceiling, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting gently on your hand. You lay on your side, head propped in your palm as you looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips.  

“Do you ever think about where we would be if you and JJ never saved me when I fell off my bike?” You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.  

Jackson turned his head to look at you, his light blue eyes warm and thoughtful. “All the time,” he admitted, his lips curling into a faint smile. “You're like the only person I can talk to about.. anything. JJ, he's my twin but it's easier with you. Moments like this are everything I look forward to.”  

You tilted your head, studying him. “You mean laying in bed talking about everything and anything?”  

He grinned. “Yeah I don't get to do it with anyone else”  

Your chest warmed at his words, and you reached out to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. “I don't get to do it with anyone else either”   

He raised a hand, his fingers brushing your cheek before leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. It was soft, lingering, and full of unspoken affection. You closed your eyes at the touch, letting yourself sink into the quiet comfort of the moment.  

It wasn't unusual for you both to show affection like that. Jackson's love language was physical touch and JJ's was quality time.

“I like this,” you murmured after a while, voice barely audible.  

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice equally quiet.  

“Yeah. Just… us. quiet, calm.”  

Jackson smiled, his hand finding yours under the blankets and giving it a light squeeze. “Me too.”  

And it was always like this with Jackson and you loved it, you loved him but you couldn't bring yourself to choose who you loved most.

[loveandleases]

Tormenting Chris and Jade submission for balance: I forgot to ask how they'd react to the poly route with Kara X Isaac. Chris's desire to love and support Kara in direct opposition to their desire to judge any dynamic with Isaac--

Love having some balance. (Called for a scenario so rest will be under the cut!)

Chris taps along their phone, their finger hovering just above the screen, caught between pressing and not pressing, between action and restraint. One name. One person their mind refuses to release. They can still see your face clearly; hear the way their name sounds when it leaves your lips. Their expression is taut, posture rigid as they scan the apartment around them—pristine, perfect, just like their life used to be. Until you came into it.

A scoff escapes their lips as they run a hand through their icy-blonde hair. How typical, they think, people stirring up trouble, thinking Chris cares what you do.... How did they even know? Is it in their face? In the way their thoughts creep in, reminding them of what was lost—or what, no, who, they tossed aside?

Jade’s voice rings in Chris’s ears, the memory of her words sharp and biting: “MC was always so hard to please, always unsatisfied despite everything our parents had given them. Since they couldn’t have you, they settled for Kara. Isaac was just the cherry on top—a person with a jaded past that they could take pity on. Along for the ride, because everyone knows the rumors about Isaac. Never staying with someone for too long unless they get bored.”

Their jaw tenses as their eyes linger on the photo laid out on the coffee table—your smile, a smile they hadn't seen in so long. You give it so freely, so easily. To Isaac and Kara of all people. One on either side of you, Kara’s lips close to your ear, whispering something while Isaac’s hand rests casually on your knee. Isaac was never good enough to be friends with Kara, not after everything Chris learned. They deserve to be with you even less. The number of times they’ve seen their hand roam on people’s bodies…they shouldn’t be touching you so freely. So openly. Where people can see, where Chris can see.

The photo cuts deeper than Chris anticipated, and before they can stop themselves, their fingers are already dialing Kara’s number. Their leg begins to shake with annoyance, the phone ringing louder than their pulse. Kara always picked up quickly—never more than three rings. So why isn’t she now? Was there always something there? Was there something going on behind the scenes?

Were the two of you… no, Kara wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t do that to me.

Kara finally answers, her voice groggy with sleep. “Hello?”

Chris freezes. It’s four in the morning. They’d spent the whole night obsessing, thinking about the three of you—disgusting.

Chris opens their mouth to speak, but the sound of Isaac’s groan and your voice cuts through the silence. “Who is it?”

The question makes their blood run cold. You’re both there? Why are you with her?

“Chris?” Kara’s voice breaks through their thoughts, sharp and concerned.

“Tell me this is a joke.” Chris’ voice cracks, disbelief flooding their words. They force out a thin, bitter laugh. “This is a joke, isn’t it, Kara?”

“Chris, how di—”

“Let me talk to them.”

“Wh—who?”

“Let me talk to my fiancé.”

The line grows quiet, and Chris can’t help but imagine the look that passes over the three of you.

“Former fiancé,” Isaac adds, a cool edge to his voice, as Kara reluctantly hands you the phone.

“Why are you with them?” Chris’s voice is quieter now, rawer, the reality of it all begins to settle in.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Another scoff. Chris’s anger surges, bubbling up and threatening to spill over. “Of course it’s my business. You’re my f—” They stop themselves, letting the word die on their tongue.

A heavy sigh escapes them as they lean back against the couch. “You’re my ex-fiancé. Do you realize how this looks? Fucking my little sister and her friend. After everything, this is how you repay me?”

“This has nothing to do with you. Who I’m with is none of your concern, Chris. Kara might be your sister, but you don’t own her, or me, for that matter.” Your words are sharp, almost like a smack to the face.

Chris’s fingers twitch, plucking at the photo until the three of you are separated—tearing you apart. “And Isaac, what? You just had to bring the trash with you, Kara? It’s not bad enough you’re sharing a bed with my ex, but now you’ve got your friend, too?” Isaac was never good enough to be friends with Kara. Especially once Chris had their background looked into. No, they don’t deserve Kara and they deserve you even less.

“Stop it, Chris.”

Despite the tightness in her chest, the guilt she carries, Kara can’t bring herself to yell. Not yet. “Don’t talk about them, about us, like you know what’s going on. You don’t know anything about it. We’re happy. I’m happy.” Her voice cracks, and for a moment Chris feels a feeling in their gut. One they’re afraid to give a name, because why should Chris Clarke feel guilty? “Isn’t that enough?”

It should be. Chris knows that deep down, under all the anger, the pain, and the jealousy, they should be happy for Kara. She found people who love her. But that gnawing feeling inside them won’t let go. The more they try to bury it, the more it consumes them. They can’t shake the feeling that you’re slipping further away—both of you.

For a long moment, they just sit there, lost in their thoughts. Kara hangs up the phone, but it doesn't stop the storm inside them from raging. Their words tumble out, raw and desperate. “You deserve better than that. Better than them. Aren’t I enough?” They know who the questions are for, and the thought alone sickens them.

[sparkrls]

High School Sweethearts

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry Styles is the rookie on the football team and he's really lost and Adelaide Heathers is the captain of the volleyball team who's just a little too high-strung

Author's Note: Originally an AU of my Mastermind series, available on Wattpad

Word Count: 13.6k

•••

A FOOTBALL WAS KICKED STRAIGHT INTO ADDIE'S STOMACH, KNOCKING THE WIND OUT OF HER.

Addie wheezed, clutching her gut as she tried to recover air, but her lungs seemed to disagree with her intent. As she struggled to breathe, she reminisced on the peacefulness she'd been experiencing only a few minutes earlier.

It'd been just like every Tuesday afternoon. Finish school, head straight to the changing rooms and then to Addie's one true home: the volleyball court.

And now she felt like her lungs were collapsing.

The one and only thing Addie absolutely despised about training were the boy's football team training right beside them. It wasn't a rare event to have a football kicked into the sand, especially whenever the season was beginning and the rookies had yet to pass that learning curve.

But goddamn it, Addie was going to rip Captain Tomlinson a new one after getting hit straight in the gut. She'd been caught completely off-guard, and as she was busy showing the new girl how to properly spike the ball, Addie didn't have the time to dodge.

When air finally made its way into Addie's lungs, Tomlinson appeared right in time, wincing as he watched the other girls crowd around their Captain. She'd been leaning against her knees for balance, but when she caught sight of the blue-eyed football captain, she pushed herself up to storm over to him.

Louis Tomlinson, the captain of the football team. Fluffy brown hair, electric blue eyes and a bright smile. He was the kind of guy you took home to meet your parents, with a class clown personality, but kind enough.

His fatal flaw, in Addie's opinion, was being absolutely infuriating. With no adults around, his charm slipped into a sarcastic, more snarky personality.

If he didn't accidentally injure several of Addie's team with his stupid footballs, she might actually like him.

However, at the moment, Addie was pissed at him.

Addie raised her finger, pointing it at Tomlinson's face as he backed away hastily, stumbling over his own feet as he raised his hands in defense. She'd shouted at him enough times about balls getting kicked into their court for him to learn his lesson and know she was dangerous when angry.

"You moron, Tomlinson!" Addie seethed, as the back of his knees hit the bench, and he couldn't back away anymore. "How hard is it to kick the ball inside your huge field?"

Louis shook his head in protest, eyes wide with fear. He was a good ten centimeters taller than her, and he was still just as terrified of her as the rest of the school. "'S not my fault! We got a new player, and- he- he struggles a lil bit."

"A little bit?" Addie prompted, raising an indignant eyebrow. She gestured towards the field. "He kicked it forward, how the fuck did the ball go in the complete opposite direction?"

"I don't fucking know!" Tomlinson shrugged, looking just as bewildered as she was. "I told you he struggles."

"Struggles is an understatement."

Addie glanced at Louis, who seemed to be awaiting permission to move. She huffed, taking a few slow steps away from him.

"Fine, you're off the hook this time, Tomlinson."

Louis sighed, clearly relieved.

Addie rolled her eyes. "You're lucky it was me who got hit. Any of my girls go down because of you, and you're dead. Got it?"

Louis nodded eagerly. "A'ight, I'll tell Styles to watch it."

"Maybe kick him off the team if he's that incompetent," Addie muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she watched some other boys on the football team start to approach. "Get your boys away from my court, Tomlinson, before I kick their ass."

"Noted," Louis turned around, clearing his throat before whistling, a sharp and loud sound that rang in the air. "Oi lads, back to the field. Move your arse, Oli." As the jersey-clad boys began heading back, Louis turned around and called, "I won't kick him off, just so you know."

"That's a stupid ass decision, just so you know," Addie shouted back.

Louis shrugged, in a 'what-can-you-do?' manner. "The lad's got potential."

Addie rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "He can shove that potential up his ass."

Addie pronounced 'ass' in a strange way, some unique hybrid between an American and a British accent. After a year or so of studying in England, she'd picked up a few odd habits of pronouncing certain words with an accent. She hadn't made a full transition, so of course her friends picked on her for pronouncing things 'too American' and then 'too British'.

Turning back around, Addie clapped her hands together to catch her girls' attention. "Alright, let's get back to work."

An hour later, Addie treaded back to her car, sand sticking to her thighs where she'd sweat and then later fallen down, ponytail a mess and in the spare change of clothes she carried in her gym bag. Taking a swig of water, she dug her keys out of her pocket.

Glancing around at the parking lot, she couldn't find her car.

Crap.

She always forgot where she parked her car, and so every afternoon, it was the same tedious game of clicking the buttons on her keys until she eventually located her car.

But just as she started clicking the keys, the universe decided it hated Adelaide Heathers. A small drop of rain trickled onto Addie's cheek. And then another. And another.

And within a few moments, the clouds were unleashing torment upon Addie, and she resorted to using her gym bag as a cover while she ran at top speed towards the roof of the basketball court.

When she finally made it to refuge, she collapsed on the ground, sitting and heaving as she watched sheets of rain fall down. The sound echoed through the basketball court. It was built in a strange way, with a roof covering the court and the bleachers, but with one open wall so that the court was semi-open.

Nevertheless, it was good for rainy seasons like these, in case it started raining in the middle of training, the football and the volleyball teams would huddle in the bleachers as they waited for the storm to pass.

Addie's ratty Spiderman shirt was sticking to her skin from the rain that had managed to get her wet. Once she'd caught her breath after the sudden run, she stood and squeezed the water from her shirt.

A shriek ripped from her throat when she turned and found someone else in the court. Her hand flew to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

"Oh my god, you scared me. Jesus, don't be so quiet," Addie groaned, cheeks flushed with embarassment as she spoke, "You're like a ghost."

The boy looked sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

His hair was a messy array of curls, sticking to his forehead that was dripping with sweat, his nose looked like a bunny's, and his eyes-

Oh god, his eyes.

Addie could've stared at them forever, analyzed every combination needed to unlock that perfect lively green color.

He had the potential to look like a frat boy, but there was something about the nervousness in his smile, and the kindness in his eyes that let you know he wasn't that way. He seemed to be a good person.

And of course he was exactly Addie's type.

"'S alright," Addie waved him off, her mind already racing on all the ways she could get this pretty boy's number, "Who are you?- I mean, I know every single person on the sports team, but I can't recognize you."

He smiled with only one side of his mouth, and the curve of his dimple gleamed like a star. "I'm new. Harry Styles." He offered his hand.

Addie shook it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Adelaide Heathers. Captain of the volleyball team. " Realization then dawned on her. "Shit, you're Styles. You're the guy who hit me in the stomach with that ball!"

The guy with the shittiest kick in the world, Addie thought, but she wasn't nearly rude enough to say it out loud. Or at least to his face.

Harry grimaced. "I'm really sorry about that, by the way."

She liked the slow drawl of his voice. It reeled her in and she couldn't escape even if she wanted to.

And she really didn't want to.

"So you really decided to torment me twice in one day, huh? First a ball in the gut and then scaring the shit out of me," Addie joked, but it seemed Harry took it too seriously.

Harry rushed to say, "I swear I didn't do it on purpose- I mean, you may count the second one on purpose as I didn't announce my presence- but I didn't mean to scare you, I'm really a nice guy- oh shit, I swear I'm not one of those assholes who says they're a nice guy despite obviously not being a nice guy-"

Addie cut him off, "Alright, alright, calm down, Styles." She placed a firm hand on his bicep. "You're alright, I was just kidding around."

Harry sighed in relief. "Okay. That's good."

Addie smiled, endeared by his antics. "So, tell me, Styles-"

"You can call me Harry, by the way," Harry jumped in, cutting her off. She gave him a look. "Just- just so you know."

"Well, Styles, I quite like your last name," Addie smirked, noticing a small smile begin to appear on his lips. She had to admit, it gave her a little power rush to know she flustered him. "Anyways, as I was saying, how come you're here so late?"

Harry said, "Uh, I was waiting for the bus to arrive but it was really late. And then it started to rain. So..."

Addie nodded, humming in approval. She began to take slow, deliberate steps towards the bleachers. She sat down, leaning her elbows against the row behind her and gazing up at the ceiling. Harry followed suit, crossing his arms over his torso.

"What bus do you take?"

"The thirteen."

Addie frowned. "The thirteen made its last stop an hour ago. It passes by at five and that's the last one of the day."

"But-" Harry was aghast. "But training ends at five thirty."

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

Feeling sympathy for the poor boy who looked like a kicked puppy with his eyebrows all scrunched up in worry, Addie asked him, "Where do you live? I'm sure there's another bus that passes by there, or maybe the subway."

"You mean the tube?" Harry prompted, the corner of his lips pulled up into a teasing smile.

Addie scoffed, playfully slapping his arm. "Shut up, you're the only country that calls it that."

"Okay," Harry said, unconvincingly. He was clearly teasing her, and it made her uncomfortable. She was supposed to be the one in control.

Addie took the reins of the conversation, "Alright, so where do you live?"

Harry shook his head. "The thirteen is the only bus that passes near my house, and the tube drops me off too far off. My house is too close for the tube but too far to walk."

"The bus is your only shot, damn," Addie cursed, "Well, I've got a car, and I can give you a ride home if you want."

"Wait, really?" Harry sat up. "You sure?"

"Yeah, why not?" Addie shrugged. "Just let the rain ease up and we can go."

"You're an angel, Heathers. A lifesaver."

Addie bit her lip to suppress her grin. "It's no big deal."

The cutest guy ever just called me an angel, Addie thought, and she knew she must be blushing.

When the rain finally died down, they ran to Addie's car, getting a little lost along the way, but managing to make it semi-dry.

Laughing at their idiocies, Addie turned the car on and pulled out of the school parking lot. Harry made small talk, asking her about her American accent.

"I'm actually from Mexico," Addie said with a small chuckle. Harry raised his eyebrows, and she explained, "Since the US is right there beside Mexico, I learned to speak English with an American accent. Then, a year ago, my mom and I moved here to London, and I started at this school."

After her parents' divorce, everything had crumbled. She'd been holding on by a thread, and that thread was this school, this city and these people. A fresh start where no one knew her as the weird kid, or the geek, or that girl in the pictures in seventh grade.

Sure, she was still top of her class, and people were terrified to be around her because of her reputation for a sharp tongue and a cold stare. But she had friends who could see beyond that mask she wore, she had found volleyball, and she found her place in this world.

Thing were okay here.

Maybe not at home, but at her school. At work, and here in the car with this new kid.

"What about you? You new?"

Harry nodded, drumming his fingers against the car handle. "Yeah, transferred this year, and somehow got into the football team?" He turned to look at her. "Quick question, just how low are the standards? I mean, I got in, so I'm guessing it's less a bar and more like a pit in the ground?"

Addie laughed, grinning despite her promise to keep her cool around him. But there was something about his warmth that made her drop her defenses. "Their standards are pretty high. Tomlinson's a ruthless captain, so watch out for him. But he's got trust in you, says you got potential." She stopped at the red light and turned to look him in the eyes. "Tomlinson's a pain in my ass, but he's also got a good eye for players. If he lets you on his team, it's for good reason."

The light turned green, and Addie started driving again.

"Thanks."

"Just stating the facts. Maybe learn to kick the ball the right way, though."

"Aye, aye, cap'n." Harry saluted her, making her crack up.

Addie faked indignation, "Don't distract me, I'm driving!"

Harry gasped, following along with her joke. "I'm sorry. I'll stop being so hilarious. Oh wait, I'm always hilarious."

"You're an idiot, that's what you are."

Harry smiled.

Mark her words, someday, Harry Styles would be Adelaide Heathers' idiot.

---

"Does it really not bother your parents that you drive me home every day?" Harry commented after three weeks straight of Addie giving him a ride. "I mean, you must get home late, right?"

Every day after training, Addie would pick up the things they'd used, get changed, and make her way to the car. She'd find Harry walking on the street, and honked her horn until he finally gave up and let her drive him home.

After a week, he started helping her pick up after volleyball practice, saying it was the least he could do for all the trouble he put her through. She began letting him. It was just picking up a couple of cones and packing up the net.

Now, she'd gotten used to it, to having him help her while he chattered on about his day. If it were anyone else, she would've stayed in comfortable silence, but he always seemed to pull a conversation out of her. And every time he talked about his day, she listened intently, until he asked a question that forced her to open up a bit.

After picking up, they'd get changed in their separate locker rooms. Somehow, he always took half the time she did and would wait outside the door for her. Always had his curls damp because he'd squeeze water into them to make them curl again after messing them up during practice. And with that puppy-like grin on his lips.

Addie shrugged. "Nah, it's just my mom and me. Dad and sister are back in Mexico, and since my mom works most of the time, she doesn't really notice I'm gone." She chuckled to herself. "Guess being a workaholic just runs in the family."

It wasn't uncommon for parents to be absent because of long work hours. It wasn't like Addie's mom couldn't afford to cut back her hours. Even if her mom only worked part-time, with her salary, they could have a great life.

But, like Addie said, being a workaholic was in their genes. Addie supposed that was the reason she was so focused on school and volleyball and work. She was addicted to being busy. To praise for her achievements and her work ethic. That was how her entire family was wired. That was how she'd been raised.

Harry's eyebrows knitted together in that way they did when he was deep in thought. "Well, if your mom won't mind, why don't you stay tonight for dinner?"

Addie's face slackened in shock. She turned her entire head to look at Harry before remembering she was supposed to be driving. She adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and cleared her throat. "Um... I mean, are you sure? You don't have to.”

Addie didn't want his pity or his fake niceties. She wanted him to truly want her. Maybe want her for more than just a casual dinner with his family. More than just that one friend who drove him home every afternoon.

Harry smiled, placing his hand over Addie's hand. She tightened her clutch on the driving stick as she felt the unfamiliar feeling of someone else's skin on hers. It only took a few moments for her to relax under the comforting warmth of his hand. "I want you there."

Pulling his hand back, Harry sat back, looking straight ahead.

Meanwhile, a million thoughts were whirring through Addie's head as she tried to understand what his hand on hers in this enclosed space meant. What did it mean?

Was Harry feeling the butterflies swarming his stomach the way she was? Or was she alone in her rose-flushed cheeks and thoughts of jumping and falling for someone who might not catch her?

Addie stayed at Harry's for dinner that night. She met his sister, who was studying at a college on the other side of the city, and his parents who were the sweetest people she'd ever met. It was no wonder Harry had turned out so amazing when he'd grown up in this family.

There were no sharp comments, no subtle comments to dig under skin, just teasing banter and sibling loving each other. Harry looked at his sister with such admiration, Addie felt a small pang of jealousy. His parents listened intently as he talked passionately about his day at school.

And when they turned to get to know Addie better, their words were kind and understanding. It started with the simple questions about her parents and their work. And then they asked, "So, why do you like our Harry?"

"Is it a pity thing?" Gemma joked, hiding her smile behind a roll of bread. That was another thing Addie hadn't experienced in years. Carbs at a meal.

When Addie started getting into sports, her mom stopped buying bread, saying "You need to stay in shape. Imagine being captain of the volleyball team and being overweight" (She hadn't even been promoted to captain yet, but her mom assured her that she would get the position one way or another).

Addie was hesitant to grab bread, but it'd been so long and it tasted so good slathered in butter and dipped in the creamy tomato soup.

Snickering, Addie nudged Harry with her shoulder. "I guess he's decent. He did throw a ball at my stomach the first time we met."

Harry's Mom, Anne made a sound of shock. "Harry, you did what!?"

His eyes widened with alarm. "It was an accident! I swear-!"

"Harry, I swear to god, you make such bad first impressions," Anne chided him, shaking her head in bewilderment. "Did you apologize?"

"Yes, Mom."

When dinner was over, they helped clean up and then Harry took her to his room, showing her around his house.

Harry showed her his small collection of CD's, blushing when she teased him for the obscene amount of Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks.

"I have Rumors on vinyl," Addie said as she scanned the CD, noting the small crack at the edge of the plastic case.

Harry's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. It was a gift from my dad." The last gift he gave her before she left for London. They'd sat down in the living room, next to the dozen of packed boxes, put the vinyl on and skipped to 'The Chain'. He'd held her hand and squeezed it, promising he would visit as soon as he could.

It'd been eighteen months and he hadn't visited even once. Calls were rare and short. Texts were a little more frequent, but still scarce.

Addie looked up, setting the CD down back onto its shelf, and wandering around the rest of the room, hands in her pockets. "You should come over sometime. I'll play it."

Harry's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yeah!" He exclaimed. And then he seemed to realize how eager he sounded, and cleared his throat, saying in a more laidback tone, "Yeah. I guess that'd be cool."

Pretending to look at the poster above his bed, Addie tried to hide her stupidly huge grin.

Harry had stars, those glow in the dark stars that every kid wanted in their room. The only lighting in the room was his desk light, so she could see a bit of the glow in the stars. They were randomly placed on the ceiling.

Even if they were real stars, she doubted any of them would shine as bright as Harry’s eyes as he met her gaze. His cheeks flushed a light pink, lips curved in a nervous smile.

Addie’s breath caught in her throat. She could reach out and graze the softness of his lips or the curve of his nose. He looked so soft in the absolute best way possible. Soft like the petal of a rose. Soft like the first stream of sunlight through the window.

The spell of the moment was broken by the door being shoved open. It made a loud sound as it hit the wall.

Both Harry and Addie jumped, startled. Standing in the doorway was Harry's dad, Robin. "Keep the door open at all times, Haz." He glanced between the two teenagers, who looked equally embarrassed despite standing quite far apart. And only being friends. "Have fun."

Once Robin was gone, Harry groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "I'm sorry. My parents are embarrassing."

Shaking her head, Addie laughed. "No, I think your parents are really cool." She smiled softly, sitting down on the gray blanket of Harry's bed. He sat down beside her. "They really care about you. You're lucky to have parents like them."

Harry's gaze softened. "They are pretty great."

Addie would kill to have parents like Harry's. Caring and nurturing, who actually gave a shit about their kids.

Clearing her throat, Addie stood up. "This was great, but I should get back soon. School night and everything."

A pang of disappointment shot through her chest as she remembered she had to go. There was a very stupid part of her that really wanted to stay with Harry forever. A very stupid and foolish part of her. The same part that felt butterflies each time her eyes met his and drove him home every afternoon just to get a few minutes with him.

Addie waved goodbye to Harry's parents, thanking them for dinner as she walked past their room. Harry walked her to her car, where he then hugged her and hesitated before placing a swift kiss to her cheek.

They both tried to play it cool, even though the two were flushed tomato red, and Addie stumbled as she got into her car.

The entire drive home, her cheek tingled where she'd been kissed. And if her fingers wandered over the lingering warmth, and her mind ran with thoughts of where this could lead, well... that was just for her to know.

---

Addie lost the match.

The first match of the season, and they'd been beaten by a landslide. It was absolutely pathetic how they'd barely gotten any scores in. The match was so clearly dominated by the opposing team, it was actually sad. But most of all, it made her realize just how shitty of a captain she was.

She wasn't made for leadership. All she had was her own strength, but she didn't have enough to keep everyone else moving.

When they got to their locker rooms, it was dead silent as they took turns in the showers. No one wanted to speak, afraid it would only make the moment real.

But it was when Lexi started sniffling, and Alice turned to hug her that Addie couldn't take the silence anymore.

"It's okay," Alice murmured to Lexi.

Lexi shook her head. "I'm the one who didn't hit that final ball. It's my fault."

"Lexi," Addie spoke. Everyone turned to look at her. All eyes were on her. This could make or break the moment. "We're a team, alright? One of us lose, all of us lose. And it's okay to fail sometimes, that just means we gotta work harder." She got to her feet, sitting beside Lexi and pulling her into her side. The younger girl clung to Addie, searching for some comfort. "We lost a match, but it's the first one of the season, we're still learning how to work together and that's okay. Now we know what we need to work on, and we'll do better next time."

"I'm sorry," Lexi sniffled. "I tried my best, I swear."

Addie's heart ached as she watched the girl cry. "It's okay. I know."

By the time the locker room emptied, Addie was the only one left. She always made sure to be the last one to leave, just to make sure the rest of her team were okay.

She cried in the shower, totally alone in her sorrows as she only had herself to blame. Maybe the whole team had lost, but she was the leader. Addie was the one who was supposed to steer them to victory, not to this.

This had been Addie's shot to prove herself, and she'd thrown it in the trash and set it on fire.

Addie locked up the locker room, and made her way to the parking lot, digging through her bag for the keys.

She found someone leaning on the hood of her car. Curly hair swept back as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes, breathing in the fall air.

Addie clicked the car keys, and the car made a sound, startling Harry. He jumped, stumbling forward and barely catching himself before he fell face-first onto the asphalt.

She snickered at his reaction, pushing past him to place her gym bag in the backseat of her car. "Hey, Styles."

Harry leaned forward, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He'd made it a tradition to always greet her that way. "Hi, Heathers."

Addie tried not to blush and failed spectacularly. "You looking for a ride?"

"You offering one?"

Addie shrugged, gesturing with her head. "Door's open." Harry got into the car eagerly, already buckling his seatbelt by the time she was barely sitting down.

Addie buckled her seatbelt and placed the keys in the engine-

"How'd the match go?"

Something inside of Addie snapped, and for the second time that day, tears began to spill down her cheeks. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away before he could notice, but it was too late.

Harry leaned forward, grasping her face with his hand, gently turning her towards him. "Love, are you okay?"

Addie squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she would stop crying. Harry probably thought she was embarrassing. She couldn't keep it together for even a few minutes. That was certainly embarrassing. All he wanted was a ride home, he certainly didn't need to see her tears.

"Ads? You can talk to me," Harry said, his voice ever so gentle, as if she were so fragile he could break her with just a few words. "Love?"

Addie opened her eyes, allowing him to see the tears swimming, the hurt hidden behind her amber eyes. "We lost. I fucked it up. I fucked it all up."

A strangled sob escaped her throat despite her best attempt to choke it back. Harry shushed her, leaning forward, the brake digging into his gut, but he endured the pain just so he could hug her.

And despite everything that had been ingrained in Addie's mind for so long- that crying was showing weakness, and weakness meant shame, and shame was the worst crime of all-

Addie took his comfort. She clung to it like a lifeline, because she was drowning and Harry was her lifejacket.

This was all she had ever needed all along.

Because even now, when she felt so incredibly low and pathetic, she didn't feel alone. Addie didn't feel alone, instead she felt a hope creeping into her life the way a candlelight slowly lights in a dark room.

"You didn't fuck up," Harry murmured into her ear, holding her tighter. Addie closed her eyes, bathing in the warmth of his touch. "You didn't, okay? You're amazing, and smart and so dedicated and maybe you lost this time- but you're goddamn Adelaide Heathers, and when you fall down, you get back up."

Addie weakly asked, "And if I can't get back up?"

"You will." There was no doubt in Harry's voice as he spoke. "Maybe you'll struggle a little, but you'll get back up. You always do. And you know that I'm always there to help you up."

"I don't feel like getting back up anymore," Addie protested, pulling away from Harry's hug with regret. She was bitter as she cried, "I keep getting kicked down and getting back up and I'm so sick and tired of it, and I just-" Her breath was shaky as she inhaled -"I just want to give up already."

Harry placed a gentle hand on her arm, a soft reassurance that he was there. "You can stay down a little while, but you'll get back up again. That's just how you're wired."

"I don't know if that's true anymore."

"Well, I know it's true," Harry defended, not aggressive but more insistent as he said, "Because I know you. And you trust me, right? So you can trust me when I say that you'll get back up. And even if you don't, then I'll be there anyways."

Addie sniffled, quickly wiping her tears away. "You're a really great person, Haz. Have I told you I'm really glad I have you in my life?"

Harry shook his head with a light chuckle. "No, but it's good to know."

"I mean it," Addie insisted, her voice still thick with tears. "I don't know where I'd be without you. Thanks for kicking that ball into my stomach."

Harry threw his head back laughing. The sound rang through the air like the chiming of bells, making Addie feel like she was on a cloud knowing she'd made Harry laugh. She had made him happy, even if only for a few seconds.

Once Harry's laughter had settled down, he turned his head to look at her. Something clouded his eyes, like a lavender haze falling over them.

His voice dropped an octave as he said, "I really like you, Adelaide Heathers."

"You're not half-bad yourself, Harry Styles," she whispered back, eyes flickering down to his lips.

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or if Harry was leaning forward just a few inches, about to meet her halfway. And there was a yearning to crash her lips against his and take what she'd wanted all this time.

And then her phone rang.

Their bubble burst just like that, and Addie could recognize the ringtone. She answered, "Yeah?"

"Adelaide," her mom warned her, "You greet people with 'hello' not 'yeah'."

"Sorry, Mom," Addie said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What's up?"

"Why aren't you home yet?"

"I told you I was having dinner at Harry's tonight," Addie said, frowning in confusion. She looked over at Harry, who was looking at her for an explanation. She simply shrugged, as confused as he was.

Mom scoffed. "I didn't say you could go."

"Yeah, you did, Mom," Addie reminded her, "You told me yesterday morning it was fine. I told you I had my match and then after, I was heading to Harry's for dinner."

"You had a match today?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Don't use that tone with me," Mom snapped at her. Yeah, well, you missed my match, so get off your high horse, bitch, Addie thought bitterly. "Did you win?"

"No, we didn't."

"I'm disappointed in you, Addie. I thought you would do better."

Addie was ready to snap. Not only did her mother miss her match, but she had the audacity to then be disappointed in Addie?

Then again, her mom's words hit her like a punch in the gut. Even her mom thought she'd win. How many people had she let down today?

"Look, I'm headed to Harry's, I'll be back before curfew."

"I want you home at nine."

"Mom, it's seven-"

"Nine."

"Fine."

Addie hung up the phone and turned it on silent, knowing her mom would try and call her back just to tell her off. "Can I stay until midnight tonight?"

"I thought your curfew was eleven," Harry said, trying to piece together Addie's interaction with her mother.

"It is."

Harry waited for an explanation until he realized none was coming and nodded. "Stay however long you want to."

Addie got home at one am, by which time her mom was passed out on the couch, a glass of sugar-free lemonade beside her. She walked past her and headed to her room.

And that night, she dreamt of sitting in a car and no stupid phones interrupting a kiss with Harry. She dreamt of holding his hand and kissing him like he belonged to her.

The next morning, Addie was numb to her mom's yelling and didn't even give a shit when she was grounded. Addie realized she didn't really give much of a shit when it came to her mom. Not anymore.

She was fed up.

---

Addie whistled, "Horan! Come over here, you idiot!"

Niall whipped his head around, blue eyes sparkling with glee as he caught sight of the younger girl. "Heathers!" He ran towards her, hugging her tightly as she returned the embrace with matching eagerness. "How have you been, love?"

"I've been good, babe," Addie answered with ease, used to the friendly flirting with Niall. They pulled back from the hug. "What about you? You're the one who disappeared for two months, you dick." She punched him in the arm.

"Okay, first off, ouch. Second, it was actually really good?" Niall answered, slinging his arm around her shoulder and leading her towards the bench on the edge of the field. "I was worried 'cause 's been a while since I've visited my fam, right? But it was nice."

He was wearing his football uniform, and the scratchy fabric of the jersey infuriated Addie, but after last year of near-constant physical contact with Niall, she'd gotten used to it for the most part.

They ended up sitting down on the bench, chatting while Addie slung her legs over Niall's, always maintaining some kind of physical contact. She needed it after he'd gone away for two months to Ireland to be with his family.

Louis arrived fifteen minutes later, looking slightly disgruntled with his hair a mess and the front of his jersey dripping wet and spreading to his shorts. Addie took him in, raising an eyebrow at the water that didn't seem to have spread to the back.

"Niall, aren't you supposed to be warming up?" Louis grumbled, running a hand through his hair as he tried to fix the disheveled mess. "And Heathers, don't you have a training to lead?"

"Don't you know how to drink water?" Addie retorted, looking him up and down.

Louis scoffed. "It was your stupid boyfriend that did this to me. Got distracted looking at this-" He gestured towards their intertwined legs -"And spilled a whole fucking shit bottle of water on me. Grabbed my arm in a fucking vice too. Pretty sure I'mma get bruises from the fucking thing."

Louis' swearing filter was removed whenever he was faced with the smallest of annoyances.

"Boyfriend?" Niall sat up, staring at Addie. "Fifteen minutes talking shit and you didn't mention a boyfriend?" He then turned to look at Louis. "Our little Heather has grown up and gotten a boyfriend at long last?"

Addie flicked Niall in his forehead, where the dark roots were beginning to grow below the bleach blond. "Asshole. Both of you. No, I don't have a boyfriend. Louis' just being a little shit."

Both of the boys looked unconvinced. Louis rolled his eyes. "Sure, he's not your boyfriend. You just look at each other with lovey-dovey eyes, and you drive him home after training every day, and he walks to the other side of the school just to be with you for ten minutes during break. He's not your boyfriend."

Addie groaned. "Goddamn it Tomlinson, he's not my boyfriend and he's not interested in me!" Louis and Addie had had this conversation a million times before. It was infuriating that he kept insisting that Harry was interested in her. This crush was not a mutual thing.

"Have you ever hung out with him outside of school?" Niall asked.

Addie made a sound. "I mean... not really. I just stay for dinner a couple times a week."

"What?" Louis shrieked, this being new information for him. "Why didn't you tell me that part?"

"'S not important."

"You've known each other for two months and you're already having dinner with his family?"

"It's not like that!"

Addie knew it was because Anne knew more about her family situation than Harry. She was always the one who insisted that Addie stay over for dinner and talked to her and cared for her.

In the last five weeks or so, Anne had done more parenting towards Addie than her own mother had done in the last two years.

"You know damn well that boy is head over heels for you," Louis said, making a tsk sound with his tongue. "Mark my words, Adelaide Heathers and Harry Styles are going to date someday."

Driving Harry home that afternoon was a quiet ordeal. They had their routine down to a T, and it seemed neither of them were in a particularly talkative mood.

Addie wasn't sure what was going on with Harry, but she was dealing with the fact that she had a huge crush on him and couldn't get him out of her head despite knowing he wasn't interested either. Plus her grades had been slipping lately and her average had dropped from a perfect 10 to a pretty good 9, but it was sure to result in another fight with her mom. And training had been a disaster, everyone was off their game and tournaments started in two weeks.

Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong that day. Addie didn't want to take it out on Harry, and she didn't need him to know she was struggling and weak. So she stayed quiet, to avoid questions.

But then five minutes passed and Harry asked, "Who was that guy you were with earlier?"

Addie frowned. "Who? The blond guy?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered. Something about his demeanor was off. He was too closed off, filled with unnecessary tension. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Addie laughed. "No, he's not my boyfriend. His name is Niall, and he's a really good friend of mine." She snickered to herself. "I spent all of last year battling rumors that he and I were dating, but we're just friends."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Addie cleared her throat. "Niall's amazing. And we've always had this dynamic of flirting with each other, but he's just a friend. He... he was the first person to ever talk to me when I got here. Without him, I probably never would've talked to anyone. Today was the first time I saw him since summer break, so I was happy to see him."

"He's on the football team," Harry prompted. He was almost reluctant as he admitted, "Seems like a nice guy."

"He is. He really is," Addie answered immediately, quick to praise her friend. "Last year, he was basically my best friend, so I ended up hanging out with the football team a lot. Now that he's back, I'm willing to bet he's going to start dragging me along to a lot of things, so get ready for me to annoy you a lot more."

A weak smile began to appear on Harry's lips. "You could never annoy me."

"Yeah well, you'll get sick of me eventually. Tomlinson hated me the first couple of months, but he was outvoted by everyone else who wanted me to stick around. He eventually tolerated me," Addie chuckled. "He's not a close friend, but we're on good terms now. I think he just hated that no one liked his girlfriend Eleanor but everyone liked me."

"I thought you said you weren't Niall's girlfriend," Harry snapped, his voice brisk and cold.

Addie felt a small pang of annoyance. She was hanging on by a thread and her patience was running thin. "Yeah. I'm not."

"So why would you compare yourself to Louis' girlfriend?"

"Because everyone else did. I wasn't Niall's girlfriend, but I was basically his date." Addie clenched the steering wheel, reminding herself Harry wasn't the one annoying her. She couldn't take her anger out on an innocent.

Harry scowled. "Yeah, right."

"The fuck's your problem, man?" Addie snapped at him, finally having enough. "You're pissed I have a best friend? That's pretty fucking jealous of you, don't you think?"

"No, I just think it's ridiculous how you lead me on for two months and then your boyfriend shows up," Harry seethed, crossing his arms and looking out the window. "Real fucking nice that feels."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Addie exclaimed.

She tried to laugh it off, but it had been so annoying to try and date guys only to have them warded off by her best friend. If her boyfriend felt uncomfortable about her closeness with Niall, she'd set boundaries. But no one wanted fucking communication.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Addie growled in frustration, feeling a bubbling rage underneath her skin, and she needed to get it out. So she pulled into Harry's driveway and snapped at him, "Get the fuck out, you jackass!"

"Gladly, you prick," Harry retorted, grabbing his gym bag and slamming the door.

"Don't slam my fucking door!" Addie shouted, rolling the window down. She was glad Harry's parents wouldn't be home to hear this.

Harry whirled around, voice dripping with venom. "You didn't even pay for the fucking car. Your mommy gave it to you to make up for the fact that she doesn't give two shits about you!"

Ouch.

That one dug deep into her heart.

Because it was true.

"It's better than being an insane jealous asshole like you, who's always so obsessed with me!" Addie yelled. "I bet Tomlinson only put you on the team because he felt sorry for how fucking pathetic you are."

Addie knew that would strike a nerve. Deep down, Harry was an insecure person who was always worried about his worth. And there was a part of Harry that truly thought he didn't deserve his place on the team.

"Yeah? Well, everyone thinks you're a cold, narcissistic bitch who doesn't give a shit about her friends and just nitpicks and criticizes everything she can!" Harry yelled, knowing every word would dig deep into her intrinsic insecurities the same way she had.

"Well, this narcissistic bitch is telling you to get a new fucking ride!" Addie shouted, noticing Harry's blue plastic bottle still in the passenger seat and throwing it through the window, hitting him in the arm.

Addie pulled out of the driveway, vision swimming with tears. She managed to stay in one piece until she got home and hid in her bedroom, collapsing into tears.

Addie cried herself to sleep that night.

---

"Hi, Mrs. Horan," Addie smiled as she opened the door. She tugged her sleeves down, fiddling with them in her palms.

Mrs. Horan smiled back at Addie. "Hi, Addie, honey. Niall's down in the basement with the other boys."

"Thank you," Addie made her way through the hallway and down the stairs of the basement. There was one step near the bottom that was creaky and felt like it might break at any moment, so she usually just skipped the last few steps and jumped down onto the floor.

The sound of her landing alarmed the other boys to her presence. Niall leaned over the back of the couch. "Babe, you're here!"

"Honey, I'm home!" Addie said in a sing-song voice as she approached Niall, hugged him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then threw herself onto the armchair beside him, kicking her legs over the armrest as she watched the other boys playing FIFA. "God, I forgot how much you suck at FIFA, Tomlinson."

"Shut up," Louis muttered under his breath, sitting on the edge of the couch as he lost miserably to Liam.

"Oof, that's gotta be embarassing," Addie winced in mockery as Louis lost. He looked over to her and gave her a dirty look. In turn, she smiled innocently. And then noticed the raven-haired boy beside Louis. "Hey, Zayn."

Zayn smiled. He had this really warm and kind smile that made you feel like you were at home. "Addie."

Zayn played defense on the football team, while Niall was midfielder and Louis was forward. And then there was the final one of the bunch, Liam, who was the goalkeeper.

Against her will, Addie had learned most of football terminology last year because she'd hung out with these four boys a lot. She'd gone to every match she could, and would never admit it, but actually got invested in the game.

"Hi, Payne," Addie smiled at him. He waved back as he passed the control to Zayn.

Niall caught Addie's attention with the wave of the control. "You want in?"

"Nah, I'm shit at FIFA, you know that," Addie shook her head. "I'll watch." She'd always sucked at video games for the most part, but whenever they played Street Fighter or Mario Kart, she kicked everyone's ass. So, she usually stuck to just watching them play and insulting them as if she wasn't ten times worse than them.

Then, when Louis and Zayn took a smoke break, going upstairs to Niall's room to stick their heads out the windows like dogs so Niall's parents didn't catch them, Addie transferred to the couch, sitting down next to Liam for a change.

Once Liam won his round, he passed the control to Addie, giving her advice and tips on how to be better. She didn't win the round, but it was the closest she'd gotten to being half-decent.

"Not half-bad," Liam mused, giving her a reassuring smile. "You've got potential, Heathers."

"And that potential will remain unfulfilled," Addie insisted, passing Liam the control.

Liam twisted his body around, turning to look at her properly. "Hey, tell me something."

"Something."

Liam nudged her with his shoulder. "What happened between you and Louis? You two used to be like this," he twisted two fingers together, "And now you barely even talk."

Addie sighed, sitting back and crossing her arms. She looked to Niall for help, who shrugged and gave her a look that told her she needed to tell Liam.

"Look, during summer break, there was this one beach trip we took. It was Louis with Eleanor and me with Niall," Addie began to explain. "Eleanor mentioned she wanted a spot on the team. She thought I could help her out, and she thought that just because we were friends, I would give her the spot. I told her we should play a match and then we'll see."

Addie recounted the rest of the afternoon. They'd played the game, and at the end, Addie had been disappointed in Eleanor. She'd refused to give her the spot. Eleanor was furious. She snapped at Addie, calling her an incompetent captain and making unsupported claims that she was doing this just to lord her power over Eleanor.

"My cat plays better than you do," Addie had snapped at Eleanor. Granted, the comment had been unnecessary, but Eleanor was being a dick about the whole situation.

It was then that Louis and Niall appeared, and they both had stepped in to calm the girls down.

Addie had made the offer to give Eleanor personal training once a week, and said, "You can take volleyball lessons all you want this year, but you're not making the team. Get some actual practice in and then we'll talk. But right now, you're incompetent and your play is lousy."

Louis had defended Eleanor. Addie was pissed at both of them, and Niall was stuck in the middle as a mediator.

"Louis took Eleanor's side, said I was out of line with my comments," Addie huffed to Liam. "But she assumed I would give her the spot just because we were friends when she's a shit player! I let her down nicely, told her to work on her game and maybe she'd make the team next year. But then she called me incompetent and a dick."

"She was way out of line," Liam agreed. "If she doesn't make the team, it's because there's a better player who deserved the spot more, and just because you're friends, doesn't entitle her to that spot."

"Exactly!" Addie exclaimed, getting frustrated once again with the situation. "And even now that they've broken up, Louis refuses to apologize. I know I have nothing to apologize for. I stood my ground and I spoke the truth and Eleanor was the one who was out of line."

The door to the basement opened and the thuds of footsteps along the stairs rang through the room. Addie pursed her lips, sitting back on the couch as Liam and Niall began another round.

Louis sat down on the arm of the couch, a few inches from brushing shoulders with Addie. "What'd I miss, lads?"

Addie sat up. "I'm going to get some water."

Liam glanced at her furtively, and then at Louis. Addie shook her head, silently asking him to keep it under wraps.

Addie headed upstairs, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and then going back down.

"-Styles has been off his game lately," Louis said, ranting to Liam whose eyes were stuck to the screen. "He's got potential and he was doing good, but if he keeps going like this, I'm worried I'll have to bench him."

Addie had gone stiff at the mention of Harry's name, reminded of the last two weeks of dead silence and cold shoulders in the hallways of school. Every car ride home from training seemed too short, too silent without the comforting chatter of Harry's slow drawl.

Instead of home cooked dinners with Harry's family, she had to settle for microwaving week-old leftovers alone in her room.

Addie couldn't help it. She needed to know about Harry and most of all, she felt concern for him. Football had become so important for him. He loved it.

"You're going to make Styles a reserve?" Addie prompted, taking a swig of water as she sat down.

Louis made a face and nodded. "I don't wanna. I know he can do it, but he's just- I dunno."

Addie frowned. "I thought things were going well."

"Yeah, but he hasn't been pulling his weight lately. And our first game is next week, I can't have any dead weight. Nothing against him, he's just not been the best player lately."

"I get it," Addie prompted, "No matter the personal relationship you have with a person, you gotta think about the team. I'm captain, I know how this goes." She gave Louis a look. "But I guess it only really counts when it's your team we're talking 'bout, right?"

Louis finally processed what Addie was implying, and his expression switched immediately. "Jesus, Heathers, seriously? Get over yourself."

He stood up, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

That was always the problem with Addie and Louis. Both of them had huge prides and were equally stubborn.

But goddamn it, Addie was sick and tired of all of her friends being stubborn assholes. First Harry, and now Louis?

"Lou," Liam warned, a sharp edge to his voice. He looked like an adorable puppy most of the time, but when it came to his friends, he would do anything to protect him. Which sometimes meant putting on an intimidating facade.

Louis glanced at Liam. "What?"

Liam gave him a look, but Louis simply rolled his eyes.

Niall then stepped in, deciding to change the subject. Somehow he was always the peace negotiator in Addie's life. She should find a way to thank him. "So, Addie, speaking of Harry, have you talked to him?"

"Talked to him?" Zayn echoed, looking confused at what Niall said.

"After their fight," Niall stated, seemingly confused that they didn't know what he was saying.

Addie immediately snapped, "Niall." She didn't need her dirty laundry aired out for everyone to see.

He seemed to realize he was the only one who knew about Addie and Harry's fight. "Oh. Oops?"

Sighing, Addie hid her face in her hands. These boys were the most troublesome people she knew, and she just knew they were going to stick their nose in her business.

Liam asked, "You and Harry had a fight?"

"When?" Zayn asked.

"Who started it?" Liam prompted.

"Okay, stop," Addie threatened them, giving them a sharp glare. She inhaled deeply, and sat up. "'Bout two weeks ago, Harry and I had a bit of an argument-" Zayn paused their game. "Seriously?" He shrugged, and Addie rolled her eyes.

She continued, "I'm not even sure what the fight was about. It started when he made the assumption that Niall was my boyfriend. I explained to him that we were friends, and it was a mistake most people made."

None of them were fazed by this information. They were the ones who had spent most of last year being asked whether Niall and Addie were together, and always were the first ones to deny the rumors that spread.

"I don't know, at some point I made some comment that I guess pissed him off. He said I had been leading him on for weeks only for my boyfriend now to show up, I said he wasn't my boyfriend, he said 'sure' in the most passive fucking aggressive way possible. I told him to get the fuck out of my car, so he did but he slammed the door so I got pissed at him and that's when it really went off the rails."

"What'd you say?" Liam asked, gaze softened with sympathy as he listened to her story.

Addie scratched the back of her neck, looking at the floor. "He said..." her voice was just above a whisper, barely loud enough for them to hear, "He said 'you didn't even pay for the car. Your mom just bought it for you to make up for how shitty she is."

Liam's face dropped as the realization of the statement settled in. All of them had learned the hard way what Addie's mom was like.

"So I told him he was an insecure jealous asshole. And that Tomlinson only gave him the spot because he felt sorry for him," Addie confessed, guilty as sin as she did. "He told me that everyone thought I was- and I quote, 'a cold, narcissistic bitch who doesn't give a shit about her friends and just nitpicks and criticizes everything she can'".

"The fuck?" Louis exclaimed. Addie's eyes looked up from where they'd been stuck to wooden floorboards, to find that Louis' face was filled with outrage. "That little shit didn't say that to you."

Addie's face went cold. "Look, it's not important, alright?"

"Addie, he called you a bitch."

"He said everyone thought I was a bitch."

"Same difference-"

"Don't act as if you're so high and mighty," Addie snapped at Louis, finally sick and tired of him. "Harry's not the only one who's treated me like shit lately."

"That's different," Louis defended, sitting up. On instinct, Addie sat up too, glaring at him even if he was slightly taller than her. Meanwhile, Zayn and Liam watched the two argue with equally shocked faces.

"How is it different?"

"Because you're the one who's too stubborn to admit you were being a jackass!"

"Eleanor was a shit player and you know it!" Addie seethed, taking a step closer to him. Her anger was beginning to bubble over and become something uncontrollable.

Louis argued, "That doesn't mean you could call her a moronic bitch!"

"Wait, you did what?" Liam exclaimed at the same time Zayn said, "You called her what?"

"I only called her a bitch because she deserved it!" Addie shouted back, "She called me a dirty skank, and if you'd given one damn about me, I would've told you that. But you decided to side with your lying, conniving girlfriend who- suprise surprise!- is now your ex." She could feel the tears falling freely down her cheeks. She always cried when she was angry. "I thought you were family! I called you my fucking brother and you didn't even hear my side of the story before deciding I wasn't- before cutting me out of your life."

Embarrassment crawled under Addie's skin as she realized the huge argument she'd just had in front the other three. She sniffled, quickly wiping her tears away.

Addie scrambled to grab her coat and keys, leaving a shocked Louis to simply stare at the space she'd once occupied. Protests came from the other boys, most noticeably Niall, who was beginning to get up, "Addie!"

She ignored them all and ran up the stairs, not even bothering to say goodbye to Mrs. Horan as she rushed to her car. She wiped the tears out of her eyes, and clicked the button to unlock her car-

A pair of firm hands grabbed her, turning her around. Addie yelped, and Louis let his grip go slack. "Did she really call you that?"

Addie shrugged. "Everyone loves to slut-shame, right?"

It was easy to act as if it was no big deal that everyone said that about her. Addie had spent her whole life pretending not to care about other people's opinions. It was second nature at this point.

But Louis saw through that cheap mask. "She shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have sided with her." His voice broke, and just a small piece of fragility broke through, "I called you my sister too."

Addie couldn't help it. She yearned for family, for belonging and love. She'd forgive Louis a million times over because that's what it took.

She hugged him tightly, tears running down her cheeks and onto his denim jacket. She sniffled, "Sorry."

Louis shook his head, burying his face deeper in Addie's black coat, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. "Let it all out, babe."

"I love you, asshole," Addie muttered through choked tears.

Louis sniffled, just slightly as he pulled back and looked her in the eyes. His blue eyes were glassy with tears. "I'm really sorry I was a dick."

Addie sniffled. "It's okay. Family sticks together, right? No matter what."

"No matter what."

---

Addie had bruises all over her knees and elbows, and she was about to pass out from exhaustion. But she put on a brave face for her girls, and led them through the match.

This match would determine whether or not their team made it to State Championships, which meant all the pressure was on Addie.

This was her team, the one she had spent countless weeks, days and hours training. Sleepless nights thinking about strategy and sweaty afternoons training until the sun went down and all her energy was spent- it all boiled down to this moment.

Addie's role as Captain would be put to the test. She couldn't fail.

And yet she didn't feel alone. All she had to do was look over at the bleachers and she'd see the people who had her back. Niall and Louis' cheers stood out from the rest, both from the accents and the volume of the shouts, but Addie could always make out Liam and Zayn's cheers even over the other two. And then there was Oli, a ginger-haired boy who'd been dragged along by Louis. He was kind, and he cheered for Addie even if they hadn't interacted much before.

Addie took a sip of her water and grinned as she gave a thumbs-up to her boys, even with sweat dripping down her spine and the thoughts whirling through her mind.

Her mom hadn't shown up. She never showed up. It'd been so painful every time for Addie last year, but it had been her four boys who had filled that gap left by her mom.

Ever since Zayn caught Addie crying right outside of the locker room as she tried to call her mom, but reached nothing but an answering machine, the four of them had ganged up and decided they would be Addie's supportive family. "You're not getting rid of us anytime soon," Zayn had winked at her that first match they'd shown up.

Addie wiped her sweat away and grabbed her teammates. "Okay, Tara, don't be scared to move through your zone, and Claire, hit the ball a little harder, it was too close to the net, alright?" The girls nodded with a grim look in their face. This was war. Addie clapped her hands. "Let's go."

Despite their best efforts, it came down to the final set. Each team had won two sets, and now it was just a matter of seeing who could get that final set.

Addie grabbed her girls, and told them, "Alice, stop hovering over Tara, and Lexi, when you spike the ball, hit it towards that girl, Grace. She won't see it coming. We've got this. We worked for this. We can do it."

It was excruciating to watch the other team hit the ball back with such ease, while some of Addie's girls were beginning to wear thin because of exhaustion. They kept going, but it was looking bad.

And it was when their captain, Jordan, hit the ball just a little too far out of Addie's reach that she finally panicked. Lexi was the only one who could reach it. But she was always afraid, scared that she would be the one who made the mistake.

But Lexi gave a running start and jumped, hitting that spike at just the right angle for Jordan to slide forward, scraping her body against the sand, with her hand just an inch away from where the ball hit the sand.

It was the boys' loud cheering that snapped Addie out of her daze. Lexi gave her a tight hug, and their team gathered in a circle, catching their breath as they shared grins of success.

They'd won.

Addie had won.

---

Addie's wet hair seeped into the back of her shirt, leaving a dark stain on the jersey, an Eagles shirt, one she'd stolen from Harry. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and the exhilaration of making it to State Championships made it impossible to wipe the grin off her face.

Maybe Addie still had a long way to go to Nationals, but in her first year as Captain and second year on the team, she'd qualified for State. That was a hell of an achievement.

Addie grabbed her gym bag, once again the final one to leave the room. She always made sure her team was all set before getting cleaned up herself. It was second nature by now.

She was supposed to head over to Tara's now, where her team and her friends would be waiting to celebrate, probably with a few packs of Louis' cigarettes and some six-packs of cheap beer. It was the kind of celebration Addie could've never appreciated last year, but it had turned into her own kind of comfort. Her home. Her family.

Addie locked the locker room behind her, making her way past the empty volleyball court and the extensive football field, breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass. They always cut the grass before a football match, and next weekend there would be one. Addie would come and cheer for her boys, no doubt about it.

She dug around for her keys in the pockets and zippers of her bag, finally finding it and clicking it. She turned towards the sound, and found a certain curly-haired boy leaning against the hood.

Addie froze, unsure of how to proceed, but she made her way towards him. His head was ducked, and he seemed to be staring at his hands. Addie shouted, "You better not be asking for a ride!"

Harry's head snapped up, green eyes landing on her. He blinked, scrambling to stand up straight, grabbing something he'd left on the hood and hiding it behind his body. "I'm not!"

Addie let herself stop several feet away from Harry. "So why are you here?"

"To apologize." Harry moved his hands from behind him and outstretched them to reveal a bouquet of red roses.

Addie's lips parted. "Flowers."

"You said roses you were your favorite," Harry explained sheepishly. She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. She took the flowers from his hands, staring at the flowers. She'd never gotten flowers before. "They're apology flowers. And congratulations flowers. They- They're multipurpose."

Addie cracked a smile. Something about Harry's lighthearted jokes could always make her laugh. And the day had been good. She was happy.

Addie said, "I'm going to Tara's to celebrate our win."

Harry swallowed thickly, nodding somberly. "Right- I'll go then. Sorry."

Addie realized he'd taken it as a rejection and hastily said, "No- I meant, in case you wanna come with? And we can talk on the way, maybe?"

Harry blinked, giving her a once-over before slowly nodding. "Alright."

It was when Addie pulled out of the parking lot that Harry finally spoke.

"I'm really sorry."

"Haz-"

"No, I am," Harry insisted, twisting his body to face her fully. "I swear, I didn't mean anything of what I said, and I wanted to take it back and apologize but I didn't know how but I shouldn't have waited."

Addie cut in, "Harry-"

"You're just so amazing, and I think I like you, so I got jealous and that was wrong of me, I shouldn't have taken it out on you, and I don't think any of those things about you. Everyone's terrified of you, yeah, but they're so impressed by your talent and your intelligence and your kindness-"

"You think you like me?" Addie repeated weakly. She braked at the red light, and slowly turned to face a frozen Harry. "Harry, do you-"

"Yes." Harry looked shocked at his own words. "I don't want that to screw up our friendship, but I'm really in love with you."

A smile spread slowly over Addie's face as she pulled over to the side of the road.

"I can get out now, don't-" Harry started, but she cut him off by grasping the front of his shirt and pulling him toward her. Once he was close, she grasped his face delicately in her palm and gently laid her lips against his.

A gasp came from his lips, and she took the chance to trace the shape of his lips with her tongue. He emitted a soft groan, the sound swallowed by her slow and passionate kiss.

Harry's hands wandered up into her hair and on her waist, while she pulled him closer until she was practically in his lap. And he finally did finish the job, grasping her waist firmly and tugging her towards him until she was straddling his lap.

"That's my shirt, by the way," Harry murmured against her lips when she pulled away, resting her forehead against his.

Addie smiled. She knew everything would be alright. It'd all gone according to plan for the most part. She had a curly-haired, green-eyed boy wrapped around her finger, her heart in his hands and his shirt in her wardrobe. "It's not. It's mine now."

---

"C'mon, Addie, we're going to be late," Liam whined, knocking desperately on the bathroom door.

Addie groaned, fumbling for her lipgloss. "Shut up! You're not making this easier."

"You know Louis hates it when we're late."

"Well, he can shove his complaints up his-" Addie started, only to be cut off by the sound of a car engine rumbling. She yelped, the clattering of her makeup bag falling over and the contents pouring out echoing in her ears. She grabbed her lip liner and lipgloss, pulling the door open. "Shit. They're here."

Liam rolled his eyes, grabbing the makeup from her hands. "Go grab your bag, I'll meet you downstairs."

Addie smiled. "Thanks, babe."

She rushed to her room, grabbing her purse and pulling her heels on, glancing at the mirror in the hallway one last time and then making her way down the stairs, almost tripping halfway down.

Liam caught her before she fell. "Idiot."

"Thanks," Addie smiled nonetheless, giddy with excitement. "You look handsome, by the way. Zayn's going to love that suit."

Liam looked down at his fitted black suit, smiling to himself. "You think so?"

"He's going to die," Addie reassured him with a grin, grabbing her makeup and shoving it in her purse just in time for the bell to ring.

Addie made her way forward, eager to open the door, but Liam caught her wrist, pulling her back and adjusting the back of her dress, where the straps formed an 'X' but often got all tangled up. "Now you're all set."

Addie gave Liam's arm a quick squeeze of gratitude and opened the door. She met his green eyes, the color she'd become so familiar with for the last year. It was the color of the trees that grew, the grass you could smell in spring air, of christmas trees on holidays, of ivy that grew on you until it became a part of you.

Green was Harry's color. And now it was Addie's favorite.

She smiled at him, unable to keep a grin off her face for long around him. "Hi."

"Hey," Harry breathed, looking almost shocked as he took in the sight of her sharp eyeliner, the sweetheart neckline, the ruffles and layers of the skirt and the gloves she wore. "You look... you're beautiful."

There was something in his voice, that vulnerable honesty that always lingered, reminding Addie that he saw her as truly beautiful.

The way he looked at her, she could almost feel the love radiating from him, an affirmation that she was truly that special to him.

Addie smiled, confident in the fact that she was never letting Harry go. She took in the tailored pants, the cut of the blazer and the silk of his shirt. With curls swept back except for a single strand that fell in front of his face, framing his sharp cheekbones and that angled jaw.

The curve of his dimple appeared, and Addie's chest radiated with warmth as she grabbed the loops of his belt and pulled him forward, giving him a firm kiss.

Liam cleared his throat. "We gonna get moving?"

"Your boyfriend's waiting in the car," Harry muttered bitterly at Liam, unappreciative of the interruption.

Addie snickered as Liam pushed past them, practically skipping to the car where Zayn got out to greet him. She turned to Harry, wiping the lipgloss of his lips. "I love you."

Harry's eyes carried so much emotion, every bit of happiness and longing showing in them. He wanted her, he had her, and he was grateful for it. "I love you."

"You and me," Addie whispered, raising her pinky.

He crossed his pinky with hers. "That's my whole world."

A little game they'd made up one day. A way to reassure each other they would always be there, no matter what. It was silly and a little childish, but it was theirs.

The honking of the car was the second interruption to their moment. Harry inhaled sharply, glaring at the two boys he considered brothers waiting in the car.

Addie laughed, grabbing Harry's hand. "C'mon, it's prom, let's have some fun."

Prom was fun. They snuck in flasks of booze and spilled it into their cups of punch, easily sneaking behind teacher's backs.

Harry convinced Addie to dance with him, just for a little while. It turned into a good thirty minutes of them both smiling and enjoying the moment.

They snuck away for a quick make out session under the stairs, and when they returned, it was clear from the mark on Liam's neck that they weren't the only couple who'd snuck away.

Later, Louis snatched Addie's phone away as she was in the middle of taking pictures, and she chased him out of the gym and to the basketball court.

The others weren't far behind, watching with amusement as the two sibling bickered, their last time fighting before Louis went off to college and joined the big leagues.

That realization seemed to hit both Addie and Louis at the same time as she snatched her phone back. And their smiles faded as the facts settled over their chests like a weight.

It was then that Zayn kicked a ball towards Louis. "Show us some moves one last time."

Louis was up for the challenge and ready to distract himself from thoughts of what they might be losing. Addie kicked her heels off and padded onto the cold grass, chasing after Niall, who'd stolen the ball.

Their little group of six, the small clique that had formed and the bond that'd grown between them the last year, was all Addie could think about.

Addie didn't focus on Zayn and Louis leaving, she focused on winning the match, even with Niall's knee that had been acting up since his injury before the end of the season.

It turned into a match filled with trash talk, a few loose elbows and lots of smile and laughter. It was Niall, Addie and Harry versus Louis, Liam and Zayn.

"Pass it!" Addie shouted into the evening air, brisk to her bare arms, gloves discarded long ago as she waved her arm in the air. Harry caught her eye and kicked the ball towards her. A little too hard.

She tried to get it to hit her knee, but instead it flew into her stomach, making her bend over as she wheezed, all the air knocked out of her.

Harry ran towards her, his hand flying to rub her back as a steady stream of apologies spilled from his mouth. Meanwhile, the others snorted with laughter.

"Guess we end the year the way we started it, right?" Louis snickered, clapping Addie in the back. She straightened at the sharp pain, but smiled nonetheless.

"Shut it, Tomlinson."

No one won the match.

When Addie got home that night- or morning, it was three am. The alcohol had left her system hours ago, but the smell of tobacco from Zayn and Louis' smoking lingered on her dress, mixed with Harry's cologne.

Addie would miss these kinds of days when the two boys went off to college. But for now, she simply smiled into her pillow as she remembered the five loyal friends she'd made. And that one green-eyed boy she loved so dearly.

---

Addie cried during her graduation. For a number of reasons.

First, it was her mom's text that she wasn't showing up. No big surprise, but it still hit her hard. Then, it was seeing her friends in those cap and gowns. It meant they were all parting ways. And finally, it was as she got onto the stage for her speech as valedictorian, and looked into the crowd, expecting not to see a familiar face when-

"Let's go, Heathers!" Louis cheered, as Zayn shouted, "That's our girl!"

Addie grinned, reminded of the brothers she had. Her mom wasn't family. Those two were.

Addie told her speech perfectly, barely even glancing at her notes as she spoke about the loss of a stage of her life she'd never get back, strangers from another country who had embraced her with welcoming arms, and the friends she'd made along the way. She spoke of the hardships, and the challenges, but refused to leave out all the happiness and the victories.

She reminded them to take that leap of faith, jump and see where they landed, that the biggest risks came with the biggest wins. And the choice you feared the most would be the one to reap the rewards.

Addie got her diploma and after they tossed the caps in the air, it was almost as if it had been planned the way all four of the freshly-graduated kids sprinted towards Zayn and Louis, the six of them squeezing together for a hug.

That was the last time Addie cried. When she realized she'd found her forever home with this little mismatched family. Their Sacred group of Six.

---

It was at the end of their first year of college that Addie and Harry took their first trip as a couple. Just the two barely legal adults taking a trip to Mexico for the beaches.

Addie didn't tell her family she'd be in town, and instead just relaxed on the beach with Harry. It was when the weekend was coming to a close, and their last night at the resort was spent having a nice dinner.

He paid for dinner and then grasped her hand, leading her back onto the sand of the beach. The night sky was dark, freckled with the whites of stars and the gray hue of the moon.

The water reflected the moon, and a single one of Harry's knees touched the cold sand. His hand clutched a black box, and Addie's heart raced.

Words spilled out of his mouth, promises he would fulfill and letting all the love inside his heart linger in the air for Addie to know.

Six months later, they had a small wedding. A ceremony in Harry's backyard, with white and red roses everywhere and their family.

Addie's parents had been invited. She reckoned they could come as guests, but they wouldn't be allowed to participate in the wedding. Her parents had been bitter about not being a part of the wedding and being reduced to simple guests, so in protest, they didn't show up. It didn't bother Addie nearly as much as she thought it would.

Instead, it was Robin who walked her down the aisle and handed her off. And it was Anne beside her as the maid of honor. The two had done more for Addie in three years than her own parents had done in nineteen.

Addie had learned the hard way that family had nothing to do with blood. But it was a lesson she cherished having learned.

They'd decided to skip a little bit of the tradition and instead had divided the groomsmen/bridesmaids evenly between the two sides.

Liam and Zayn stood behind Harry, with Gemma in between them, while Niall and Louis stood behind Addie, Anne in between the two boys.

Over the last three years, Gemma had become like an older sister to Addie, guiding her through the rough parts of her life, and giving her a strong woman in her life she could turn to.

It was the first time several people had seen Addie cry, but it was only fitting for who they were. She kept a strong, cold face for everyone else, but the second her eyes met Harry's, it all melted away.

Every single wall Addie had ever built to keep herself safe crumbled to the ground with the one person she would always love. Her forever home, Harry.

And Harry cried, of course. He'd always been a shining star, but when he had Addie, he became the sun, fierce and radiating warmth. She was everything he had ever wanted and never known he needed.

Getting through their vows was the hardest part, both of them choking up as they tried to get through their speeches. Harry had had to write his down because every time he tried to speak it from memory, he'd get so distracted by the knowledge that he was marrying Adelaide Heathers, that he'd forget it.

And Addie managed to memorize hers, but faltered halfway through as she sniffled. It was Louis' reassuring squeeze on her shoulder that gave her the strength to finish.

Her speech was beautiful and poetic, and she'd worked tirelessly to make sure it could capture the essence of her adoration for Harry. But words were never enough.

She finished with one last sentence; "I can't wait to have forever with you."

After the ceremony, the two had had to retire to a private room before beginning the reception. Just letting each other process the fact that that was it. They'd just promised each other forever.

"I can't wait to start the rest of our lives," Addie said. "Me and you."

"That's my whole world."

---

Addie was in college for her scholarship to practice professional volleyball. She would later go on to win the Summer Olympics her first season as a player, and would rise through the ranks until eventually becoming Captain.

Harry kept going with football for several years. But after getting a camera for his birthday, soon discovered his passion for photography. He quit the team and began discovering his love for art.

He worked as a freelance photographer for a couple of years, and then worked with a highly-esteemed fashion magazine, worked as a model once with the same magazine before discovering he preferred being behind the lens than in front of it.

Harry then worked as a photographer for an album photoshoot for the highly-recognized Love Band, and then became close friends with members Mitch and Sarah Rowland. It was then that he began venturing into music.

After Addie was injured during her last match before her team could qualify for the Olympics, she was forced to drop out from the rest of the season. She them began to explore writing, and published several compilations of poems and short stories in the six months of break before returning to her team.

Years later, once Addie retired, she would join Harry with his exploration of music and the two would co-write an album. It would be Adelaide Heathers' debut in music and Harry Styles' fifth studio album.

They would spend the next few years exploring art, creating new and bizzare things, and most of all, staying in touch with the family they'd had since they were kids.

This is your reminder that in every world, and in every universe, no matter the circumstances, Addie, Harry, Niall, Liam, Louis and Zayn find their way to each other and become a family.

And in every universe, Adelaide Heathers and Harry Styles fall in love. And despite the twists and turns, it always works out in the end.

[sapphiresaphics]

Here’s the thing. Arcane season 2 was finished being written back in 2020. It was completed before the first season of Arcane even aired on Netflix in the first place. Before they even knew if it was going to be a hit or not. Before any of the fans had hot takes about the characters.

Which means that all of these “new subplots” (such as the black rose) weren’t just added in on a whim. They have an intentional purpose in the story they’re trying to tell.

It also means that the pacing was always going to increase and become faster as the two seasons went on.

I think a lot of fans are coming at this show from the perspective of a lot of live action shows where the writers see how fans respond to certain things so they add them into the story or focus on fan favorites to grab your attention and keep you engaged. And live action shows can do this because they’re filmed relatively close to when the series airs and so they’re aware of what the reactions are on social media (for good or ill).

But this is animation. Very TIME CONSUMING animation at that. It took 4 years to finish animating the 9 episodes of Season 2. If you include the 6 years of development and production of Season 1, that’s almost a full DECADE of working on this show.

My point is that they literally (and logistically) can’t respond to fan input and make changes in the show based on the way it was received on social media. Like it or not, these specific characters beats and storylines were always the plan from the start.

This is a long winded way of trying to say… if you have problems with the way certain characters are behaving, or certain plot points feeling rushed, or feel overwhelmed by the number of added subplots that need to get resolved before the end of the show… I strongly suggest rather than saying the writing is “bad” or that the writers “don’t know what they’re doing” or just complain about anything really… I suggest you take a step back and ask yourself “why are these the stories and actions they chose for this 2 season arc?”

I think that’s a far more productive thing to do than to go online and whine about things you didn’t like. I find it’s better to try and understand WHY they chose to do these things rather than write them off. More often than not when you look into the why, or try to come up with reasons why the writers would take certain characters down the paths they do, you end up coming out appreciating the media more. Even if you still don’t were with their narrative choices, learning and understanding the WHY is far more rewarding I think.

I’ll give you an example of something I don’t like, but that I understand why. Isha. I don’t like that Isha was introduced and then killed off in the latest episode. If I were to look at it just from a surface level reading, it seems pointless to add this cute mute kid character only to take her away a few episodes later. But NARRATIVELY she’s extraordinarily important. She is what Jinx needed to become more empathetic to her sister and reach out to fix their family. She helps push Jinx into the role of Vander for season 2. And her heroically framed sacrifice is probably going to be the push Jinx needs to stop trying to commit suicide.

Would I have liked to see more of her and Jinx’s relationship? Yes. Would I liked to have learned more about where she came from and why she’s mute? Yes. But at the end of the day, this is not a show about Isha. Isha is a narrative device to help forward the character development of Jinx. And so, while I do not like that she sacrificed herself… I understand it. And that understanding helps me appreciate the writing and the level of depth the writers are willing to go to push their characters around where they need to be by the end of the series.

At the end of the day, Arcane is just another show on Netflix. It is not beyond criticism. There are a lot of legitimate criticisms you can have against the show. But I’ve found that recently the number of bad takes and people refusing to engage with the narrative has resulted in a bit of a backlash against the show and I do not think that’s ultimately very productive. Please… if you’re going to criticize the show, please try to do better than just write off anything you don’t like as “the writers just suck” or “they changed X character for no reason!”

Because I guarantee you, there IS a reason for everything in this show. No matter how small and trivial it might be, this show was put together with love and an extraordinary attention to detail. There are reasons for why characters do and say the things they say. The writers often make these into intentional parallels, foreshadowing, and callbacks.

Please… take the time to actually stop and dissect what you see. Even something upsets you. I implore you… try to understand why. Try to understand what the writers are saying. Try to understand how certain plot points and events could have a bearing on different characters.

Please just…. Try?

[mixelation]

i got up to do a chore and then was like "no, i should write down this sentence first" and then wrote a 700 word intro to "deidara is minato's oops baby" i guess

Our story, dear reader, starts like many do: with tragedy. 

At the height of the Third Shinobi War, Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina come to an agreement. Whenever Minato is out of the village on a long-term mission, they are both free to have sex with whomever they please. 

They refine this agreement multiple times over the years, to keep the both of them comfortable and happy. They make rules to prevent emotional attachments. They both commit to their due diligence in screening for STIs and preventing pregnancies. 

There is no rule against having sex with enemy ninja. Six months out from his marriage, Minato sleeps with an Iwa missing-nin. Her name is Juri, but Minato never learns this. She’s the one who makes the proposition, and he thinks it’s a bit sexy, to sleep with the enemy. Juri enjoys the thrill of fucking the man that her former village, now her most hated enemy, is most afraid of. 

The condom breaks. Juri insists she knows the contraceptive jutsu, and she definitely doesn’t want to be pregnant, on account of currently being on the run from her home village. Minato hedges and asks her to do the jutsu in front of him just to be sure, and she acquiesces. They part on good terms and do not give the other any way to contact each other. 

Minato goes home and reports the broken condom to his fiancée, but neither of them give the incident much worry. The contraceptive jutsu is easy, and Minato saw her do it, and also what are the chances that this random woman would get pregnant from this one hook up?

Kushina also thinks sleeping with the enemy is kind of sexy. They roleplay it a few times and otherwise never think of Juri again. 

What neither of them know is that Juri has a bloodline limit which affects her chakra. What Juri herself doesn’t even know, is that she needs specific adjustments to the contraceptive jutsu to accommodate her bloodline limit. It’s never come up before. She’s never had a condom break. 

Half a year later, Minato and Kushina are married, and Juri is recaptured by Iwa. 

“You can’t execute me,” she insists. “I’m pregnant. Don’t you want more explosion release babies?”

She does not reveal the identity of the father. This seems like it could get her special treatment, or it might get both her and her baby killed. She decides not to risk it. 

For the first few years of his life, little Deidara has an average upbringing. Juri is under constant surveillance, but the war has been costly and Iwa does need more babies. That Deidara is healthy and demonstrates a strong aptitude for shinobi skills is a boon to Iwa and a boon to Juri. 

The Yellow Flash becomes Hokage, and Deidara begins ninja training years early. Iwa insists Juri have more children. They pick out men for her. 

To breed me like a dog, Juri thinks, grinding her teeth. No thanks!

She leaves the village again. She does give some thought into bringing Deidara with her, but ultimately concludes her chances of survival will be higher without him. 

Fuck Iwa, she thinks, and on her first day as a free woman, she sends a message to Konoha. 

Juri does not survive the week. Uzumaki Kushina and her newborn baby Naruto, in an unrelated incident you may know something about, also do not survive the week. Konoha is plunged into chaos, and the message from Juri ends up buried in a report that the grieving Yellow Flash doesn’t read. 

The start to this story, as you can see, dear reader, is very sad. We are left with three of our named characters dead. One of our survivors is overwhelmed with grief and survivor’s guilt for years to come, unable to forsake his duties to the village to properly process his loss. The other survivor is suddenly plunged into a confusing, chaotic world without a parental figure to support him and no way for such a young mind to comprehend why this is happening to him. 

But don’t worry, dear reader.  Ten years later, while shuffling through old documents in order to prepare for renegotiating a peace treaty, Namikaze Minato will find the note from Iwa no Juri, and everything will change.

[ellana-lavellan-official]

Mythal and Solas: Manifestation

I'm fascinated by how newly revealed Solas lore add context to everything he did n DAI.

Taking on a body is a turning point for Solas, but also for his relationship with Mythal. We know form DAV it was...unhealthy, to say the least.

You learn more about Mythal's character once you draw parallel between Morrigan & Solas. Both of them said to be, by Mythal, people she cared deeply about. Yet it doesn't mean she is above using them.

DAO:

Flemeth: You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives. Morrigan: Mother…this is not how I wanted this.I am not even ready- Flemeth:You must be ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I. Morrigan: I…Understand.

DAV:

Mythal: You have so long observed the world. Why not consider joining it? Solas: But I have no desire to live as humans. I have the Fade. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form…I think you underestimate the danger. When you took the glowing stone to build your body, did the earth not shake?  Mythal: The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade. We are the best of physical and spirit. I need your wisdom, Solas, to withstand the louder voices who will go too far, like Elgar’nan. I need you. Solas: This is madness. You must know that. (Sighs) I will always follow where you go.

Mythal (or Flemeth) wants to have something from both Solas and Morrigan. Bring Solas to her side. Send Morrigan to acquire an old god soul. In both cases, Mythal shows a similar manipulation strategy. 

Try to present it as something they would want (Solas, wouldn’t you like to experience something you looked at for so long? Morrigan, wouldn't you like to finally explore the world beyond the Wilds?)

Frame the request as if that’s the right thing to do and only they can help (Without your wisdom,Solas, others will go too far. Without you, Morrigan, warners will surely fail.)

Appeal to what they feel for Mythal (I need you, Solas. Without you helping the wardens, Morrigan, I will die.)

In retrospect, all the signs were there. In the very conversation she ignores his boundaries, coerces him into giving what she wants and ignores his wisdom.

p.s.: It's unfortunate that we don't really have much information about Mythal and her side of the story when Elvhenan was forming. I wonder why she took on a body in the first place.

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"