#my hair is so damn long and with summer coming it only makes sense to chop some off heh

[chrollogy]

friday update: what a shitty day

[3d-wifey]

PLEASE PLEASE I NEED A READER WHO'S JUST AS MUCH OF A FERAL FREAK AS LOGAN JUST IDC WHAT HER MUTATION IS, JUST MAKE IT ANIMALISTIC SO THEY CAN HAVE FREAK NASTY SMUT

Back to the Kitty (Cus She's Kinda Pretty)

Pairing: Logan James "The Wolverine" Howlett x Lynx!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut heehee, uh munch logan supremacy, hybrid au (?), NSFW, NSFT

A/N: This has been my man since 2000 and I was only born in 2004, I'm so happy he's fucking FINALLY GETTING LOVE GOD DAMN. Reader is implied to be black but you can still read it if you aren't, as always. Also, it's been shown in canon again and again that Logan is weak to the whims of a pretty woman, especially early Logan, so dont give me no goddamn lip about this being unrealistic.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Logan stares at the wooden door long after Summers leaves. He scoffs, irritated. Something about the Boy Scout rubs him the wrong way. He rolls his eyes. "Prick."

"I see you've met Scott." Logan spins around, and sees… No one. There couldn't be another telepath rummaging around in his head. Between one blink and the next, a woman appears on what's supposed to be his bed. "He's not so bad once you get to know him. Then again, he's not so good either. He's a real mixed bag."

Logan gapes at the relaxed figure lounging on his bed. His senses snap to attention—your scent is all over his room as if it's always been there.

Your heartbeat is fast but steady. He sniffs. Your scent, cool like snow, makes him nostalgic for the Canadian wilderness. It’s tinged with something familiar—an intrinsic note of his own scent. Something he caught on that Sabertooth freak earlier. Animalistic. 

Feral.

As he takes in your appearance, memories of the wilderness flash through his mind. He'd heard stories about people, people like them living off the grid, protecting wildlife and using their powers to evade detection. Maybe you were one of them. A guardian of the wild, hidden from civilization up till now. Maybe he was too.

"What the hell is going on here?" Logan grits his teeth, sick and tired of surprises. You tilt your head, pointed ears twitching, the black tufts catching his attention.

You're lying on your stomach, facing him. Your knees are bent, ankles crossed and swinging.

"You teleport in here or something?" He takes cautious steps towards you, spotting the sharply curved claws in place of toenails—easy weapons. One good kick could slit his throat.

A mix of gray and beige fur trails up from the front of your feet, all the way up your thighs to disappear past the leg of your shorts. It's the same shade as the hair on your head.

"Nope." You barely acknowledge him, grooming the fur along your forearm like one of those big cats. He lingers on the movement, intrigued. The slight tilt of your head, long pink tongue peaking out as it travels the length of your forearm to your knuckles and then back again, holds his attention. "I've been here the whole time.”

“I would’ve smelled you." 

“But ‘ya didn’t,” you chuckle and it feels like you’re rubbing it in his face.

“That's impossible.” He scoffs, shaking his head. 

Sharp, amber eyes lock onto him, reflective and cat-like. He freezes, instincts on edge, the hair on his nape standing as vertical pupils assess him coolly. 

Logan’s eyes flicker away to the exit—only for a split second. But when he looks back, the bed is empty. He whips around to the door, heart pounding in confusion because it's…it's still closed.

Where—? 

“How the hell—”

His jaw doesn't drop but it's a near damn thing. This is freaky, freakier than the regular freakiness he's come to expect after walking into this school.

"Still here." You purr from behind him, the sound of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He turns back, and there you are again, lounging like you never moved. He takes a deep breath, trying, and failing, to steady himself. 

"You mind explaining how you're doing that?" He asks, hoping he sounds more annoyed than unsettled. He can tell by the playful glint in your eye that he doesn't. 

“And if I do mind?” You say, but he doesn’t rise to the bait, which is what this all is, he realizes. You smirk. "I told you, boy. I've been here the whole time. Long enough to see you strike out with Jeanie."

Logan scowls more at the mention of Jean than being called ‘boy’. Just what he needs—another reminder of the happy couple. 

But how had he missed you? Jean wasn't that distracting. It gnaws at him. He doesn’t like it, the idea of his senses betraying him.

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly easy getting a read on you when you’re playing hide and seek."

You tilt your head, studying him. "Maybe you’re just not looking hard enough."

"Or maybe…” He steps closer, his instincts screaming at him to stay on guard despite your eyes compelling him to do otherwise. “You're just really good at hiding."

Your eyes meet his, a challenge in your gaze that he's not sure he's the right guy to take on. "Then I guess you'll have to get better at seeking.”

Logan's mind races as he processes the confrontation. He isn't used to feeling off balance, the one on the back foot. Usually, he's the one doing the intimidating, the one making others question their next move. 

But with you, it's different. There's a raw, untamed energy about you that draws him in and sets him on edge at the same time. You're not just another mutant, he knows that much. Like none he's ever met before; you're something more, something savage that mirrors the part of himself he tries to keep under control. The part that craves the hunt, the chase.

He comes to stand near the bed, slowly reaching out to check if you're real or just some kind of projection. You stare up at him, amused, and allow his calloused hand to meet the warm skin of your shoulder.

"I don't understand," Logan mutters and it feels like admitting defeat.

"I didn't want you to see me. So you didn't." You shrug, and even that looks graceful. It takes him a second to get there, but it dawns on him in much the same way your sudden appearance did. Some kind of mental camouflage. Not like prey blending in to hide, but a predator lying in wait before striking.

"But I couldn't even smell you anymore." It's one thing to trick his mind, but it should be impossible to trick his nose. He bares his teeth. "I've had enough of people messing with my head."

You say nothing. Instead, you grin, baring your own teeth right back and revealing elongated canines that glint under the low light. His eyes are drawn to their sharp edges. They're sharper than his own. How easily could you sink them into something? He wagers it wouldn't take much effort at all.

"Down, boy." You cackle, not even doing his ego the service of pretending to be threatened. "Unless you wanna see whose bite is really worse than their bark." You raise a brow at him expectantly.

He scowls, crossing his arms. He's not backing down, but something about this whole encounter is throwing him off. Your self-assuredness is doing something to him, and he's not sure what to make of it.

He regards you warily, taking slow measured steps around the bed. "So… What’s your deal? You’re not a teleporter or a telepath? Great. Then what the hell are you?"

"Hm," You hum deep in your chest, resting your chin on your palm as you track his movements. He figures you aren't gonna maul him in his own room. "Don't worry, your nose isn't failing you," you snort, and his confidence in you not being a telepath drops significantly. "I cloaked myself. Completely. Not even the professor can find me if I don't want him to. I can even trick all that fancy tracking technology. So don't feel too bad."

It's a bunch of smoke and mirrors. Well, it's better than you messing with his head. Impressive too.

"Huh. How 'bout that." He licks his lips and holds out a hand. "Name's Logan."

"I heard." You take his hand in your surprisingly strong grip, turning it palm down instead of shaking it. "I was curious about the new guy. Wanted to see if you'd be worth holding my attention." You drag a feather-light finger along his knuckles, circling them, then rubbing the almost perpetually red divots where his claws are hidden. For whatever reason, he lets you. The barely there touch makes the hair on his arm stand up, fingers twitching in your hold. He only just fights back the desire to lean into it.

"S’that so?" He smirks. "And what do you think now that you've seen me?"

"Well, first impressions, I'm not disappointed." Those stunning eyes rove over him, lingering on the sweatpants he borrowed. He preens under your gaze, understanding Scott even less now. Don't get him wrong, Jean seems like a great girl. But how could he possibly see a woman like you and leave you to your lonesome? Hell, his loss is Logan's gain. Slim couldn't handle you anyway. "But the rest depends."

"On?"

"You. I've been so bored here. Keeping clean, prowling the straight and narrow. What do you say, Logan?" You purr, bringing your free hand up to ghost over his leg, and the muscles in his thigh flex under your touch. "You think you can keep me entertained?"

He arches a brow. "You got a name?" He husks, at some point coming close enough to stand over you.

"No," you reply, his brows furrowing in response. Though he guesses he's got no room to judge. He only knows his name because of his dog tags. "The kids just call me Lynx, for whatever that's worth. Guess it stuck.”

"I can see why." He looks you over, taking you and all your curves in as you rise up to your knees to sit on your haunches. You're wearing a tank. A very thin tank. He can see the shape and heft of your tits, and even though you feel far from cold, he can see the white fabric rubbing against your hard nipples. The name fits you, but Minx would've been his suggestion. "And... What exactly do you do around here? Other than skulking in other people's rooms." He asks, not masking his curiosity.

You pull him onto the bed beside you. He doesn't bounce but the springs squeak under his weight.

He can’t picture you teaching those little brats anything. Maybe you could teach them how to gut a man like a pig, but something tells Logan that might just offend the professor’s sensibilities.

Your top lip pulls up into a snarl, a predator's smile, it draws him in instead of warning him away.

"I'm not too good at the whole guiding the minds of our future thing. For now, I have to hone my powers and learn how to integrate back into proper society." If the wording wasn't enough to tell Logan you're copying Chuck word for word, then the accent you put on does the trick.

Your grip on his hand tightens, pressing a hidden pressure point. Logan’s breath catches as his claws unsheathe, the metallic sound slicing through the air. His eyes lock onto yours, trying to read the intention behind this sudden, intimate maneuver. He smells it instead—musky, semi-sweet—and heat pools low in his stomach, hardening him against his thigh.

You shift, straddling him with feline grace, knees on either side of his hips. His free hand instinctively grips your waist to steady you, though it's clear you don't need his help.

Your long tongue runs along his knuckles—warm, wet, and a little rough. He exhales heavily at the sensation.

His mouth drops open with a pant, watching closely. You trail the muscle up the blades—he shouldn't feel it so viscerally, but he does. He can practically feel the flicks of your tongue in his damn spine—and he smells the rich iron in the air before he sees crimson bleed along his claws.

He can smell you getting wetter too. Whether it's from the blood or the sharpness of his claws is anyone's guess. Logan's hold on you tightens, his hand sliding to your lower back as he pulls you closer, a low growl rumbling in his chest

He watches, fascinated, as your split tongue knits itself back together. It's bizarre, witnessing such rapid healing on someone else. The sight stirs something primal within him.

Blood drips down your chin, a stark contrast against your skin. 

He wants to follow it. So he does, pushing into your space to chase it up your chin and into your mouth.

You gasp, soft and sweet, at the contact, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Running, thankfully, dull nails along his scalp. The metallic taste mingles with the warmth of your mouth as he kisses you deeply, a groan sitting low in his throat.

The kiss, meanwhile, isn't soft or sweet. It's biting and bitter with the taste of your blood, mixing with his own when you bite his bottom lip, fangs piercing the meat as easily as he predicted they would. It makes his head hazy with some kind of bloodlust. Or maybe just regular lust. The two are more intertwined now than ever before. At least as far as Logan can remember, which admittedly isn't saying much. He's got no idea how to begin separating them and he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t remember the last time he's tasted blood other than his own. It makes him groan as he squeezes the fat around your hips in a bruising grip—hard enough to make you moan. He knows you can handle it, handle him.

You pull away, a string of pink saliva connecting your lips to his.

Something kicks Logan into gear, and, without really thinking about the movement, he leans back down, his lips brushing against your chin to lap up the rest of the blood.

"You showed me yours; only fair I show you mine." You unsheathe your own claws, as pretty and deadly as you are. They're about two inches long and even sharper than those teeth.

"Now, how the hell did they manage to domesticate a wild thing like you?" In this pristine and civilized place, you stand out even more than he does. For a creature like you, it must be akin to captivity.

You laugh, though it sounds closer to a chuff. "I was out in the wilderness, hiding the lynxes from poachers and loggers." You say, hooking a claw in the zipper of his hoodie and tugging it down, exposing his bare chest and stomach to your exploring hands. "Saved as many as I could. Spent years out there like that."

“And the professor found you?" Logan asks, intrigued despite himself and despite all the blood in his head rushing to his dick.

"Eventually," you nod, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips, what he's beginning to think is their natural state. "But not before a lot of poachers ended up dead, wondering why they couldn't find a single lynx."

"You hid them," Logan says, tilting his head back. You don't hesitate to take the bait, swooping down to stitch your lips to his neck. You bite more than you suck, breaking skin as you go and not letting how fast the wounds disappear deter you from making more. He grunts, bucking hips coaxed by your own.

"You're not the only one hiding out from the metal man." Your lips drag against his skin as you speak. Lips and teeth and tongue and—

"Fuck." He hisses. His hips buck again and you meet the movement head-on, swiveling your hips like you're riding a bull.

Magneto wants you too then, Logan thinks, dazed.

"So what?" He breathes, dragging the both of you further up the bed, "Now you're fighting the good fight for animals and mutants?"

"Something like that. Don't tell Xavier, but it really just came down to Jean and Oruro being more persuasive than that big brute Magneto sent for me."

He laughs. "I can believe it."

"Now," you grind your hips down, hitting the perfect angle, "do you wanna hear my life story, or do you wanna fuck me?" You say with a grunt. And when you put it like that, the choice is pretty fucking clear.

He twists around, switching your position with you on your back and him hovering over you.

You've got a mischievous look in your lidded eyes as you hump each other through your clothes, sinking your nails into his ass. He flinches, thrusting against you hard enough to push you up the bed, and snarls in your face.

You laugh as he flips you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up. Moans sprinkle through when he presses up against your ass, dick grinding into you. He can feel how hot you are through your thin shorts. You're soaked, enough to turn the fabric of his sweats a darker gray.

Just the smell of you is straining the cotton around his dick, he wants—no needs more. So he leans down, gripping your shorts and ripping a hole down the middle, finding you wetter than he imagined.

You gasp, peeking over your shoulder at him, but he's already on the move. 

He mumbles a gruff fuck as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. He goes to pull himself out but thinks of a better idea.

He wants your cunt in his mouth and he tells you as much. You smirk, more fang than gum, and sway your hips side to side, like you're daring him to take what he wants. He does.

He buries his nose in your snatch and takes a whiff, you moan, grinding back against his face, leaving slick on his nose and cheeks. He lets you, encourages it, even, by gripping your hips and growling deep in his chest. Fur soft where his facial hair is rough, sticking in wet peaks from how much your cunt is drooling.

He sticks his tongue out, not as long as yours, but long enough to get the job done as he buries it into you. Coaxing out more slick and cum as your fluttering warmth squeezes him. 

“Logan,” You moan into his pillow, likely leaving it wet with licking and biting, the same way he's planning on leaving the blanket under you wet with your cum. He grinds against the bed, letting his own need build steadily in his gut and up his spine, the animalistic urge to devour you stronger than anything else.

The taste of you, as heady as you smell, settles heavily on his tongue and down his throat as you rock back and forth, twisting and whining like the wild thing you are.

He leans back just enough to take one of your pussy lips into his mouth, sucking as you take in hitching breaths above him, moving to the other side to give it the same treatment, before circling back to your clit.

He spits on your fluttering hole, licking it back up, and spitting again and he almost thinks you came then and there from how loud you get.

Your thighs are shaking and you're wet enough for him to skip to two fingers right away. He pushes his spit, and his scent, deep into you, stretching you around his thick fingers as he bites at the back of your thighs. You arch your back like a, well, like a cat in heat.

He fucks you on his fingers hard enough that your body shakes with each thrust. He feels the rapid build-up inside of you, shaking and fluttering as he mumbles against your clit about how good you taste and smell, how wet you are for him. 

He feels you come as much as he sees it, your body locking up before abruptly loosening. He pets your flank, “Atta girl.” His voice is rougher than before as you twitch. Soaking his fingers as you lazily hump his hand, making little gasps and whines that he would have thought of as wounded if he didn’t feel how tightly your walls are gripping him.

You lift your head, something satisfied yet still challenging in your amber eyes that makes his hands go to pull his pants down, using your slick to stroke himself, and he knows his pillow will be littered with puncture marks from your teeth and claws, the thought is enough to make him twitch in his hand, a bead of pre that he swipes with his thumb.

He pauses before offering his finger to you, knowing he made the right choice of staying here when you wrap plump lips around his thumb, hollowing your cheeks and sucking like it's his dick.

You pull back, just enough to lick the mixture of the both of you off of his palm, mumbling a demand. “Fuck me, Logan.”

And who is he to deny you when you’re looking at him like that? Wet and wild, curves and claws wrapped up in golden fur like a gift, just for him.

He smirks, “Yes, ma’am.”

[inbloomwriting]

a kiss that I kept II Jamie Tartt

Plot: Jamie Tartt was 9 years old when he met the love of his life. He considers himself lucky to have met her at such a young age. He considers himself a damn fool for fucking it up later on though. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of Jamie's dad. Notes: Friends to idiots to lovers. Inspired by "Simple Song" by the Shins Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

When I was just nine years old I swear that I dreamed Your face on a football field And a kiss that I kept Under my vest Apart from everything But the heart in my chest

There’s something cathartic about being back home in Manchester. Not as a footballer, just as Jamie. When he doesn’t have to be phenomenal, when he doesn’t have to perform and win. When he doesn’t have to try so damn hard to give his dad a reason to be proud of him.

Without those expectations and without the pressure, it feels good to be home. It’s a part of his childhood that is untouched by his father’s malice. It’s pure and joyful and precious.

He’s not Jamie Tartt, golden child and footballer extraordinaire. He’s cousin Jamie. He’s Jamie from down the road. He’s Georgie’s boy. 

It’s been a while since he’s been back, been even longer since he’s seen any of his extended family but being back now, it feels like hardly any time has passed. Millie has always been his favorite cousin so when the envelope showed up in his mailbox, all fancy paper and swirly font, there was no hesitation in him. Nothing could keep him from attending her wedding.

She’s a beautiful bride, all flowy dress and flowers in her hair. It’s almost hard to believe she’s the same kid that used to run around the neighborhood with Jamie, getting into trouble wherever they could find it. But somewhere between chiffon and carnations that little girl still exists. He wonders if the little boy he used to be is still alive somewhere inside of him. He hopes he’s proud of who he grew up to be. Sometimes he doubts it. 

His eyes wander across the room, the reception is in full swing, people are talking, laughing, celebrating. Love is radiating from every smile. Though Jamie doesn’t really care all too much about that if he’s being completely honest, he only cares about one particular smile. 

And when he catches sight of her, leaning against the bar with a glass of champagne in hand, wearing a gorgeous powder pink dress and daisies in her hair, he’s certain his heart misses a beat. 

It would be an understatement to call (Y/N) his best childhood friend. Friend was never a big enough word to describe what she meant to Jamie — what she still means to him. 

Jamie Tartt was 9 years old when he met the love of his life. He considers himself lucky to have met her at such a young age. He considers himself a damn fool for fucking it up later on though. 

“Are you planning on talking to me anytime soon or do you just want to stare at me all day, Tartt?” 

She says it with the same sense of mischief she’s always held. Like a silent promise of adventure perpetually hidden in her words. 

“I was going to — eventually.” 

“Well, eventually is not good enough for me. I missed you, Jamie.” 

It’s only when she pulls him into a hug that he realizes just how much that sentiment is reciprocated. The familiar scent of lavender and the feel of her body against his, it all brings up so many memories of times long gone. This, Jamie thinks, is as close to time travel as humans will ever get.

He is suddenly 9 years old, playing soccer on the field just down the road from his house. His football is old and slightly inflated and some of the hexagons are flaking off, just holding on by a single tread. His goal is no real goal and all but two plastic bottles functioning as make-believe goalposts.

 The air smells like sunscreen and summer and dust and life is easy for a moment. He gets to do what he loves without having to prove anything to anyone. Football is just a game here, something to pass the time. It’s fun.

He does kicks and jumps and trick shots and it doesn’t matter if he messes up. He can fail without having to fear any repercussions. There is no one there to judge him for it. Failure is a byproduct of trying not a sign of weakness. 

Just as he is about to line up another shot at the makeshift goal, he sees her across the football field. At 9 years old, Jamie doesn’t know a lot of things but he’s quite certain she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. For a moment he wonders if she’s a dream, an illusion. Then she steps closer, comes walking towards him with that bright smile of hers and the glimmer of excitement shining in her eyes. 

“You’re really good,” she says. He’s heard that a few times before, it never mattered then because he wasn’t good enough, not to his father at least. It matters when this stranger says it though, because she’s pretty and because she has no reason to lie to him. 

“Thanks. I’m Jamie.”

“You’re bleeding.” 

His eyes follow to where she points at his right knee and sure enough, it’s scraped up, a drop of blood running down his leg.

“Does it hurt?” 

Jamie shrugs as if to let her know that it’s not a big deal. It does sting quite a bit now that she pointed it out to him. He’s not gonna let her know that though, girls don’t like soft boys who whine about scraped knees.

“I have a plaster if you want one. So you don’t get any dirt in the wound.” 

She doesn’t even wait for an answer, just rummages through her purse that’s shaped like a little poodle, and pulls out a plaster. Jamie holds out his hand though she doesn’t pay it any attention, just kneels down and softly, so fucking softly, put the plaster over his wound. It’s the first time he smells her lavender shampoo, the first time she smiles at him, and the first time she sends his heart racing. 

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.” 

And his life has not been the same since.

“ I missed you too.” 

It’s the truth. He missed her terribly. But sometimes it’s hard to reconcile who he is with who he used to be. Who he is now with the person she used to love.

“Could’ve fooled me, you don’t even answer my insta DMs, you ass.” 

Even when she curses him out, she regards him with infinite affection. 

The girl that put a plaster on his bleeding knee is now a whole woman, but the kindness is still the exact same. The softness she holds for him is still there.

“To be fair I hardly check those. They scare me, honestly.” 

“At least your mum updates me on your life. She was always my favorite Tartt anyway.” 

He loves how much she loves his mum and how much mum loves her. There is something so inexplicably comforting in knowing the people you love most share a bond. 

“Think you’re her favorite too.” 

“Oh yeah, I know I am.” 

Her laughter rings through the air like the sweetest song he’s ever heard. It’s so awfully cheesy, his own thoughts almost make him barf. But she just has that effect on him. 

“You look beautiful today, (Y/N).” 

“Today?” she asks in mock offense and though he knows it’s really just a joke, he feels the need to explain himself.

“Don’t get me wrong. You’re always proper fit but that dress? You look like a fucking angel.” 

The way she bites her lip slightly and bashfully averts her eyes for a second, is a success in his book. 

She really does look gorgeous, a whole vision of perfection. The pink dress, the flowers — the necklace. 

A shiny rose gold charm sparkles in the light, resting gently against her skin. Heart-shaped like his feelings for her. He knows the pendant opens up and he knows exactly what he’ll find if he were to open it. 

His lips lift in an involuntary smirk.

“What’s that look for, Jam?” 

“You still got the necklace.”

She places a gentle hand against her chest, against the heart-shaped charm.

“Obviously. I will never ever ever get rid of it. I love it. You stole this for me!”

He was 14 and stupid and head-over-heels in love. He still remembers the sticky heat of the summer clinging to his skin, the taste of watermelon on his tongue, and the thought of her on his mind. 

They spent all day riding their bikes around town with nowhere to be and everywhere to go. It was a good day, a phenomenal day. She shared her ice cream cup with him and held his hand on the way back to their bikes. It was a phenomenal day and Jamie was not ready to let it end just yet. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the way her eyes lit up as she looked at that necklace in the shop window. 

In retrospect, it was an extraordinarily dumb idea, one of his worst to date, but it made her smile. The way she smiled at him when he gave her the necklace that he stole for her, that made it all worth it. The yelling from mum and the being grounded and the having to pay back the money by working at the store for 3 whole months that summer. 

Her smile made it all worth it.

“Mum was so mad at me that day.”

“Well, you did commit theft, so —” 

“Worth it though. Made you smile.” 

“Oh, Jam you— “ 

The nickname gives him shaky knees, the interruption by the DJ gives him a fucking headache.

“May all the unmarried ladies please report to the dance floor, it’s time for the bouquet toss.” 

“That’s my queue, I guess. Save me a dance, Jamie Tartt.” 

He will save her every damn dance in his life. They are all hers if she wants them.

She stands in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by a bunch of other women, a flicker of friendly competitiveness shining in her eyes. If she’s joining in on the bouquet toss, that means she’s not married, does that mean she’s single? 

Of course, he could’ve asked mum, she knows for sure, but that would just open a whole different can of worms. You don’t ask your own mum if the girl you’ve been in love with since you were 9 years old, is single. You just don’t, no matter how badly you want to know.

The DJ starts playing Girls just wanna have fun, (Y/N) hated that song. “It’s awfully overplayed”, she said one time they were driving in his car, before changing the station. 

She must still hate it judging by the grimace that falls over her face for a mere second before she catches herself and puts another polite smile back on her lips. 

Millie stands before the group of women, back towards her friends, and bouquet raised in the air before counting down.

One 

Two

Three

The flowers fly through the air and land in the hands of a girl whose name Jamie can’t recall but she’s definitely one of the bridesmaids. Chelsea? Cristy? Something like that. She looks elated, a guy leaning against the bar looks mortified. 

(Y/N) seems thoroughly unbothered by it all as she strolls back across the dance floor toward Jamie. 

“Do you want me to congratulate you or give you my condolences?” 

She just laughs and shakes her head “It’s not like I have any suitors waiting for me to offer them my hand in marriage anyway.” 

So she is single. Not that it matters or anything. It’s good to know though.

His eyes sweep across her face, then her hair, where one of the daisies is barely holding on and just about to fall off. Without giving it another thought, as if moving on autopilot, Jamie gingerly plucks the flower from her hair and places it behind her ear. There’s something about her that makes him want to be soft, that allows him to be soft. 

“Almost lost one.” 

“Thank you, Jamie.” 

The tenderness in her words almost sends him to his knees. When you’re used to words being sharp and bitter it’s hard to accept when they are silky and delicate. 

“You have the saddest eyes, Jam. What’s bothering you?” 

There is a big long metaphorical list of all the things that rest so heavy on his heart. The pressure of having to be the best version of himself at all times. The feeling of failure always creeping up on him. The fear of messing up. The idea of not being good enough. 

The reminder of what could’ve been and of all that isn’t.

He has a whole big list of things that make him sad — he doesn’t say any of that though. Just shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance. 

“Don’t know what you mean, I’m chuffed. Doing fan-fucking-tastic.” 

She can read him like a book, always could. Jamie doesn’t know why he even tries to fool her, it’s not going to work either way.

“I know that’s a lie,” (Y/N) scoffs then regards him with a look he can’t place. It’s a mix between pity and something else, something warm and comforting. “I’m not going to force you to talk to me about it. I’m aware we aren’t as close as we used to be but I just want you to know that I am always in your corner, Jamie. Always.” 

He has no doubt she means what she says but Jamie isn’t sure she really knows what she’s talking about. She knew him as a little kid, an awkward teenager, a misguided 20-year-old. She doesn’t know this new version of him. Bitter and a little lost — or maybe a lot.

Jamie isn’t sure this new him deserves her loyalty.

"There's something that does make me sad, actually."

"What's that?"

"The fact that I’ve not had a single slice of cake yet. That’s why I’m here, innit?”

“And I thought you were here to celebrate your cousin getting married.” 

“Common misconception, really. I mean I am — but mostly it’s about the cake. Technically I’m on a diet but it's a wedding, that doesn’t count. We all know that.” 

They both know he’s just talking out of his ass. Of course, he’s here for Millie. For the wedding and the family get together and all of it. And even a little for (Y/N). Because he really did miss her … so fucking badly.

“Oh well, let’s go get us some cake then. Can’t have you starving, not Jamie Tartt — the island’s top scorer.” 

Jamie has done a lot of things in his life that he isn’t particularly proud of. He tries to see them all as learning opportunities, cautionary tales for a future him. Doesn’t mean he likes to think about them. Especially not his short but quite memorable stint on the dating show Lust conquers all. All the worst parts of him put on display for everyone to see and discuss and judge, every night at 8pm. 

“You watched that then?”

“Uh, obviously?! What’s a best friend’s job if not to laugh about you while you make a fool of yourself on a dating reality tv show?” 

It warms him from the inside out, to hear that she still considers him her best friend. He’s not sure he’s been very good at it in the last few years. Has barely talked to her. But then again, who makes the rules? Maybe some people are bound together so tightly from the very beginning that neither time nor distance can break them apart. 

“I’ll have you know that I was number one on famous birthdays the day after I got eliminated from the show. So, who’s laughing now?” 

“Were you? How long did that last?” 

“Like a day, maybe 2. Then it went back to John Krasinsky, fucking wanker.” 

“Aw babe, well you’ll always be my favorite person born on October 20th. “ she says as they both come to stand by the table decked out in cakes and other desserts. “ I do like the office though, hmm…” 

"Oh, sod off. You’re breaking my fucking heart.”

He likes the way she hugs his arm in mock apology. She’s not sorry, in fact, she’s still laughing. It doesn’t matter if she’s laughing with or about him though. As long as there is a smile on her face, that’s good enough for him.

“Sorry. Can I make it up to you?” 

Jamie nudges her shoulder with his, the way they always did when they were kids. That little boy that was so in love with her, he’s slowly but surely clawing his way to the surface again. Breaking free from Jamie’s ribcage where he has been kept hidden for such a long time now.

“Well, what about that cake then?” 

The neon lights dip her in shades of blues and pinks and purples as she twirls on the dancefloor, weaving in and out of the crowd. Jamie is sure he’s seen this very moment in a dream of his before. 

“Oh, you look so handsome, my baby. Are you having a good time?” 

His mother’s voice cuts through his hazy daydreams as she plops down on the chair next to him. No matter how old he gets, Jamie doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of his mother’s affection. Her unshaken faith in him and her unwavering belief that he is a good man, after all.

“You’re my mum, you have to say that.”

“Absolutely not! Remember when you had that dangly earring? I told you right out you looked like a muppet.” 

“Yeah you did,” he nods and takes a sip of his beer “Crushed me, honestly. Loved that earring. Thought I looked well cool.” 

“Well, you know who didn’t hate it? (Y/N).” 

That gets his attention. Eyebrows raised he takes his eyes off of the girl in question and turns fully towards his mother.

“How would she know? She didn’t see it.” 

“Yes, she did. I showed her a picture when we had girls night.” 

It's a nice image, his mum and (Y/N) having girls night. Sure, having them team up on him is terrifying, but he can't help but relish in the fact that his loves love each other so dearly. 

"Girls night, huh? You ladies talk about me a lot then?"

"Are you joking?" 

The way his mum raises her eyebrow is so familiar. It's the same damn expression he sees in himself all the time.

"That girl has been in love with you since you were kids. Of course, we talk about you a lot. You're all we talk about, Jamie. "

As a kid, Jamie always wondered what it felt like to put your finger straight into an electrical outlet. He never did it, obviously. But there was some strong curiosity there.

This is what it must feel like. Hearing his mother say that (Y/N) is in love with him, that's what it must feel like

Electric shocks straight to the heart.

“What?” 

His mum just shakes her head, there’s that smile pulling at her lips. That typical mother's smile that tells you that they know you so much better than you know yourself.

“Come on now, Jamie. You know this is how she feels, everyone does. She adores you. Same way you adore her. That is how you feel, isn’t it?” 

Of course, it is. She’s everything. She feels like an ocean being warmed by the sun. Warm and inviting and comforting. Beautiful. Tender. Soft.

“Don’t matter really, does it? We haven’t talked in so long. Doubt she even knows me well enough anymore.” 

“She watches every match, goes to most of them if she can. She even bought that video game you’re on. Girl is almost as proud of you as I am. Look love, “ Mum rests a gentle hand on his arm. “I don’t know half the things that are bothering you right now but I do know that you’re struggling. I just want you to know that you are not a bad person, Jamie. The little boy you used to be deserved to be loved and so does the man you are now. You made bad choices but you still deserve love. We all make bad decisions sometimes. I know I made a lot of them when I was younger.” 

“Hah, like having me.”

He passes it off as a joke but there’s a hint of truth swinging along. She was really young when she had him and while he knows she doesn’t resent him for it, he wonders if maybe her life would’ve turned out better had he not come along. Mum loves him unconditionally and she always makes sure he knows it so it’s a silly thing to think about really. It’s a fleeting thought and it really only shows itself when he’s already deep in his thoughts but when it does, it sends him spiraling. 

The slap to the arm is not friendly or in good humor, that one is meant to sting.

“Don’t you ever say that again. You are my life, Jamie. I love you. Having you was the best decision I’ve ever made. You hear me?” 

It’s dumb really, he knows Mum loves him. It’s always been them against the world (or well, them against dad, really). But sometimes his head gets so loud and fills itself with stupid thoughts.

“Yeah, of course. Sorry. I love you, mama.” 

“Love you too, my baby boy. And I am so proud of everything you ever did, okay? Except maybe the earring.” 

A chuckle falls from Jamie’s lips. “The earring was a bad idea, I got it.”

“Good. Now go dance with your girl, yeah? You two are driving me crazy.” 

His girl. His girl wraps her arms around his neck when he walks up to her on the dancefloor. His girl looks up at him with the most radiant smile. His girl who feels like the sun and smells like lavender and wraps his heart in silk and sweet memories.

“Finally, thought I was going to have to drag you onto the dancefloor. You still owe me a dance.” 

“Sorry. Not much of a slow dancer, yeah? I do know some great boy band choreographies though, and the cha-cha slide.” 

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Coach made us learn a full N'sync routine for Doctor Sharon's going away party. She didn't show up but I was fucking ace. I’m sure Keeley has a video of it somewhere.” 

She grants him a smile though it doesn't reach her eyes.

"How is Keeley? How are you guys?"

There's an edge to her words and if he didn't know better he'd call it jealousy. But that doesn't make sense … right?

There's no him and Keeley, at least not in the way she's asking about. There never will be. Keeley is one of his favorite people but her friendship means so much more than any fickle try on upholding a relationship doomed to fail. Jamie thinks there's something brave and mature about that realization.

"She's good. We're good. Friends I mean. Good friends."

"No more dating?"

"Nah she's dating one of my best friends. Hated it at first but they're kinda perfect for each other. It's a bit disgusting, really."

Those words manage to pull the smile all the way up to reach her eyes. It's magnificent. Spectacular. A laugh tumbles from her lips, a sound so sweet if he were to taste it, he's sure it would put the most delicious honey to shame.

"You know," Jamie speaks and pulls her closer as they absentmindedly sway along to the music " I never thanked you."

"For what?"

"For the phone call that one night."

It was just after Manchester had kicked him out. No one wanted to sign him. He had burned bridges with everyone who ever stood by him and gave him a chance and Jamie had never felt more lost and more alone.

He just needed someone. A piece of home. A reminder of the 9-year-old boy who loved football for the fun of it all. He needed her. 

He hadn't expected her to pick up that night, he really didn’t deserve it. But she did. Of course, she did. She always did.

"You don't have to thank me for that, Jamie. You are you and I am me and I will always pick up the phone for you."

It's such a simple thought. The most basic of all concepts. You are you and I am me and there will always be a space for us in my life and yours.

"I just - I felt very alone and lost and I hated the person I was then. It was like I was some boat or something, stuck on a cliff. And then when I talked to you and you had my back anyway it was like all my fears that I told you about suddenly disappeared, you know? Like you sent me a wave, a flood and gave my boat a lift over the rocks. I know it sounds fucking silly but Ted has me reading all these books with the big words. Making me feel all smart and philosophical."

She's so gentle when she combs her fingers through his hair, tugging some strands back behind his ear. He will never grow tired of soft touches and even softer looks.

"Jamie, even if I didn't like the person you were then, I loved you anyway. I don't have to like you to love you. Loving someone means accepting that they make mistakes but giving them room to become the person you know they can be. You wanted to change for the better and honestly, I think you turned out pretty spectacular."

Jamie isn’t quite sure if he will ever grow used to receiving love in the form of comforting words and soft touches but he truly relishes in it, always. 

"Do you wanna get out of here? Party is about to wind down anyway. Don't think anyone's gonna miss us."

The night feels heavy with possibility. 

"Sure, Jam. Where do you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter. Nowhere. Anywhere. As long as I'm with you."

The glimmer in her eyes tells him she has an idea.

The bench by the side of the field looks the exact same it did when he was a kid. Chipping red paint and rotting wood. Initials in permanent marker forever immortalizing past versions of whoever wrote them down. Time forever frozen.

Jamie is 9 years old again and he is also 11 and 13 and 16 and 25. It’s all the same. It’s all so different.

The field is no field anymore, it’s now a proper little football pitch with a goal on each side. 

“What happened here then? That wasn’t there when we were little.” 

(Y/N) strolls across the field, twirling in her dress illuminated by the moon and the streetlamps. She looks like something out of a movie. He’s sure if he was a smarter man, more poetic, he’d be writing songs about her, poems, books.

 In that book Ted made him read, there’s this one line that Jamie suddenly remembers.

“She was dazzling-- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance”

He thought those were just big words for saying some girl was well fit. He thinks he might get it now.

“Yeah well, some of us put together some money and convinced the neighborhood council to finally turn it into a proper pitch.” 

“Some of you?"

“Mostly your mum, Simon, and I”

She meets his eyes across the field and his heart still does the same silly shimmy it did when he first saw her face. 

“Why?” 

“So another little 9-year-old kid gets to play with actual goals and doesn’t have to use plastic bottles.”

They did it for the kids, the community. But they mostly did it for him, for the child in his heart that never grew up. That is clinging to his insides and that only gets to live in his memories and in the hearts of the people he loves. The people that love him.

(Y/N) leans against one of the goalposts, a smile playing on her lips as Jamie strolls up to stand in front of her, hands buried in the pockets of his pants. His jacket is long forgotten on some chair back at the wedding venue.

“You know”, she says and lets her gaze drift upwards towards the sky. There is too much light to see the stars but Jamie thinks there’s still some kind of comfort knowing they are up there even when you can’t see them. The authors of the books Ted gives him, they’d have some flowery pretentious allegory to tell about all of this. He is no author, he's just a fool in love.

“This is where I had my very first kiss. Right here.” 

Jamie wonders if she knows of the little electric shocks she sends straight to his heart when she lowers her head and looks straight at him while speaking those words.

It’s not news to him. Of course, it’s not. 

He was there. 

“Oh, was it?”

“Yup.” 

“Hope the lad was alright.” 

“He was perfect — for a twelve-year-old. I was also 12 though so I had nothing to compare, really.” 

“What was he like? Lucky kid.” 

“He had this really badly bleached blond hair. Tried to do it at home with a cheap box dye. Didn’t listen when I told him it was a bad idea.” 

“I bet he looked fucking cool.” 

“Had a bit of an ego, that one. Still does. Bit misplaced for someone who looked like Draco Malfoy.” 

“You had a big fat crush on Draco Malfoy.” 

“Yeah,” he doesn’t know when it happens. One moment they’re joking around, strolling down memory lane and the next her hand is in his hair, his hand on her waist, noses almost touching. “I did.” 

“Do you wanna know a secret?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“That was my first kiss too.” 

There’s a flicker of surprise shining in her eyes.

“Huh? You said your first kiss was with Emma behind the playground.” 

“Well I was lying, wasn’t I? Wanted you to think I’m cool and experienced.” 

“We were 12 you dum dum. And I always thought you were cool.” 

He was not cool at 12. No one is cool at 12. It still makes him weirdly proud to hear her say it. 12-year-old Jamie would be positively buzzing at that revelation.

“I um — Jamie, why did we never talk about it again? I know we were 12 and whatever but it meant something to me. Did it mean anything to you?” 

Some memories, Jamie thinks, are meant to be shared. You want to tell everyone about them over and over again and it feels like you might burst if you don’t share them with others. 

And then there are memories that are meant just for you. Beautiful places to escape to. So you keep them hidden in your chest, apart from everything else but your heart when they beat in sync. And they become part of you. And they keep you alive. That’s where he keeps this kiss. The first one. The only one that ever mattered.

“It means everything to me. But I — I wanted to keep that kiss to myself. That was mine and yours and I didn’t want anyone or anything to ruin that or turn it into something bitter and sad. “

“If I were to kiss you again, would you also want to keep that a secret?” 

He shakes his head, his nose gently nudging her’s with the movement.

“Nah, I’d wanna scream it from the fucking rooftops.” 

When she kisses him he is 9 years old again, seeing his future staring right back at him through the face of a little girl. He is 12 years old kissing her in the field, a kiss he’d kept with his heart ever since. He is 14 crying on the floor of her room the night he got back from the Amsterdam trip with his dad. He is 16 and a prick to everyone but her. 

He is 25 and more in love than he’s ever been.

“50 fucking pence? Are you joking?”

“Nope. Dead serious.” 

“That’s fucking mental.” 

Her laughter echoes through the night as they walk down the familiar streets paved with countless memories. He#s holding her hand and he’s never felt more delighted about anything so simple. 

“They still taste fucking great though.” 

“They do, don’t they?” 

Leave it to (Y/N) to continuously surprise him. As they started their walk back towards her house, she pulled two Cadbury Freddos from her sparkly purse. Jamie can almost feel the sun on his skin from all the walks they did to the corner shop during summer holidays to get some Freddos and a smarties pop-up ice.

“Don’t tell Roy I ate chocolate though, he’s gonna kick me ass.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Her childhood home is coming into view just down the road and with it the end of this night. The door is a deep red color, he remembers (Y/N) helping her dad paint it when she was maybe 10 or 11 and her parents never seemed to have changed it since. 

“Soooo what’s happening now?” 

It feels a little silly to ask but Jamie has spent so much time keeping his questions inside of his head and not voicing them to her and he wonders just how much time he wasted because of that. Time he could’ve spent with (Y/N).

“I — I don’t know, Jamie. I want this to be. I want us to be, always did. Probably always will. But I don’t want you to choose me because being home pushed you into some kind of nostalgia-induced stupor or something. I want you to be sure about us. So, how about you sleep on it and tomorrow morning you pick me up for breakfast and we’ll talk? “

If he’s being entirely honest, he doesn’t want to talk. All he wants is to kiss her and then kiss her some more. To make up for every second that he wasted not telling her how he felt. But she is being rational and sensible as always and he has to respect that. Out of the two of them, she was always the reasonable one while Jamie did first and then thought about it later.

“Okay yeah. I’ll see you in the morning then.” 

“Goodnight, Jam.” 

“Night, (Y/N). You look beautiful by the way, not sure I said it.” 

“Thanks, you look very handsome too.” 

There’s an I love you on the tip of his tongue and he so desperately wants to say it but when she places a kiss on his cheek and opens the red door, all his thoughts just slip from his mind.

“Bye, Jamie.” 

“Bye.” 

He stays stuck for a moment or two before his legs slowly carry him down the road. The night is inky black and the street lamps' horrid orange-hued light reflects against the asphalt. 

So many times he’s walked down this exact road wondering what could be. Wondering how to show her how much he loved her. Wondering if someday, somehow they would end up together. 

9-year-old Jamie knew she was his destiny from the moment their eyes met across the football field. What would he think seeing him now, walking away from all he ever wanted? 

What’s that quote from that romcom the team watched together the other day?

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

The shiny black shoes he’s wearing are not meant for running. He figures that out as he turns on the spot and rushes back down the street toward the red door. There is no need for him to sleep on anything. He has never been more sure about anything in his life. Ever.

His heart is racing as he reaches the house, as he knocks on the door, and as he rings the doorbell — for good measure. 

His heart stops when she opens the door, her dress gone and exchanged for a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

“Jamie? You forgot something?” 

“I don’t need to sleep.”

“What?” 

“I don’t need to sleep on it. I know what I want. I want us, I want you. Always did. Always will. You’re the only person I want to talk to when I feel shit and you’re the first person I want to tell when something good’s happened. I want to ride my bike with you the way we did when we were kids and eat freddos with you even if they’re 50 fucking pence now, which is insane. I want to go to weddings with you and dress up fancy and I want to sit on the couch and watch movies with you we’ve both seen a million times. I want you to make fun of my stupid earring and have you help me dye my hair and I want to kiss you and tell you how beautiful you are every single fucking day. I want everything and anything as long as it involves you. And I don’t need to sleep on it. I am sure.” 

“Jamie?” 

“Yeah?!”

“Kiss me!” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

It feels right, to hold her and to kiss her. Like all his life has been leading up to this moment. To her soft lips on his and her hands in his hair and his hands on her waist.

And he thinks she might just feel the same. She doesn’t need to say it to let him know. She tells him with his tongue, with the gentle touch of her fingers against his skin, with her breath in his lungs. 

He is 9 years old and also 12 and also 14 and 16 and 20 and 25. He is all those versions of himself and each of them was and is in love with (Y/N).

[kentosovertime]

(n.) the extraordinary sense upon first meeting someone, that you will one day fall in love

➳ nanami kento x gojo's sister/afab reader - 6.5k (oopsies)

➳ a/n: does nanami deserve a happy ending after shibuya? did anything happen between reader and geto after nanami left? (so many ideas just off of this one fic and its so refreshing to write gojo platonically for once) enjoy~

➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, tension, angst, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding, stranger to friends to strangers to lovers, idiots to lovers on a journey, miscommunication, everyone's depressed anxious and existential

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box | Open Request Event | AO3 | Ko-Fi✨

10 years ago…

“And why exactly am I the one to be dragged along for this?” Nanami’s eye twitches in annoyance as he follows Gojo down the hallway to where the classrooms are. “Where’s Geto? This seems more his speed.”

“I’m not bringing Geto along for this.” Gojo scoffs loudly at the idea. The last thing he needed was Geto giving her fuck me eyes like he did when he stayed at the clan houses for the summer. “The pervert can’t be trusted with such a delicate task.” 

“Trouble in paradise, Satoru?” His voice drawls, bored out of his mind already. These dramatics were a waste of his time. Whatever this was, he didn't need to be here. 

Gojo’s blue glare pins him as he stops outside the first year classroom, an edge of distress in his gaze.

“I brought you because I trust you around my-” A cloud of dust suddenly plumes around Satoru’s head and Nanami watches as a chalkboard eraser clatters to the ground from where it nailed him in the… is his infinity off?

“It's the first day, you ass!” Someone hisses behind Satoru, just out of Nanami’s field of vision as Satoru rubs the back of his head with a pout. “Can I go one god damn day without you showing up and making my life more annoying than you make it at home?”

Nanami's eyes widen slightly as he peeks out from behind Satoru to take in the girl handing Gojo’s ass to him. Tall.. curvy… with long white hair- his thoughts are cut off by a pair of squealing girls inside the classroom. A quick look has him seeing them pointing at Satoru and whispering, along with a boy who’s rolling his eyes at their antics while keeping a very close eye on you. 

“How did you even know I was here?” He whines, rubbing the bump on his head. “You should be paying attention to Yaga.”  

Nanami watches as she huffs out an exasperated sigh and points at her eyes, covered by sunglasses.

“Six eyes.” You snip, turning your finger to point aggressively at him. “And you stomp around like a toddler and control your volume as well as one. Where’s Geto? He’s the capable one between the two of you.”

“Sorry.” Nanami finally pipes up, giving you a small wave as he clears his throat. “I was enlisted instead. You try controlling this menace… You must be his.. sister?” 

“Mhmm..” You turn your blue gaze to him, taking him in as you nod your head in Satoru’s direction. “Surely you’re not friends with this? I implore you to have better taste.”

You didn’t know your brother had decent friends, you hum to yourself. Your sharp eyes take in his presence, the cursed energy around him steady and calm despite dealing with Satoru. His presence and attention feels soft… there’s a rightness to it.

“See, Nanamin? She’s just as bad! Stop acting like I’m the only one who’s annoying. And you-” He turns to you with an assessing glare. “Talking about Geto a lot... obsessed much?” 

“Must run in the family.” A bored yawn comes from your mouth as your brother’s teeth grit. 

You 1, Satoru 0. 

An uncharacteristic snort flies from Nanami’s throat and your heart flies into your throat knowing that you’ve managed to almost make him laugh. He’s so serious you’re sure it's not a common occurrence. You want to hear him do it again. 

“We’ll leave you to class.” He doesn’t give Satoru the option as he pushes him down the hallway and out of the building. “I’ll see you la-” 

Nanami turns to the quiet spot looming behind him that’s normally filled with Satoru’s endless prattling, only to see him gazing up at the building with a worried look on his face, chewing on his cheek in thought. 

“I had to threaten the clan to get her here… helps that they can’t touch me now.” He says softly. “They don’t see how good she is… they only see that she doesn't have the limitless technique. Not how she’s used the eyes to adapt other techniques.” 

“Where else would she be if not here?” Nanami is sure that he knows the answer, hoping he’ll hear something else come from his senior’s lips. 

“Sixteen’s a little too young to be breeding stock for the Zen’ins. Naoya’s a piece of shit.” Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. His eyes meet Nanami’s over the rim of his round sunglasses, more serious than he’s ever seen him. “Geto and I.. We won’t be on campus often.” 

He holds Satoru’s gaze for a moment longer, giving a quick nod in agreement. Even if he feels he’s being selfish in fulfilling this for him. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

By the end of your second year in Jujutsu High, you’ve felt like you can breathe for some time now. It’s not that you don’t appreciate everything that Satoru did to get you here, but it's nice not to have to deal with the shadow he cast while he was a third year. 

At least you had Ken, even if he’d be graduating at the end of the month, leaving you alone here without someone to lean on. You feel he counts on you just as much as you do him, opening up about the hole Haibara left in his life before you came to school here. 

You lay on a couch in one of the common rooms, your feet propped on his lap as he reads. You examine the ends of your hair absentmindedly, trying to build up the courage you need to tell him how you feel. 

There’s no guarantee that you’ll see him again once he graduates and takes on jobs. No guarantee that he’ll survive them. You don’t want to have regrets when it comes to him. Not when you’ve never had someone like him in your lonely life in the Gojo clan. 

“Ken…” You start, licking your lips nervously. 

“Yeah, hun?” He shifts to gaze at you over his book, looking at you curiously. 

“I…” You start, swallowing around the lump in your throat, chickening out at the last second and changing the subject before he can ask why you’re acting so cagey. “Where are you planning to be based after graduation?”

“Oh.. I..” Your eyes note a nervous flare in his cursed energy, his body tensing under your legs. You pull your legs from him, sitting up as your brows pull together. 

“Is everything ok, Ken?” You asked worriedly. “Listen, I can take care of someone if they’re bothering you.” 

“It's not that…” He sighs and closes his book carefully before turning to you. “I haven’t told anyone yet but… I’m leaving jujutsu. I’m going to work a normal person's job away from all this death and despair.” 

“O-Oh?” Your heart seizes, scared he’s going somewhere that you won’t be able to reach him. Your voice cracks, betraying your emotions. “You’re still going to visit… right?”

“N-No… I don’t think I can do this,” he waves his hands around at the school, “anymore, hun. It’s too much. All the pain.” 

You stare at him, your blue eyes unguarded as they start to mist. He’d just leave you behind? Not talk to you? Not beg you to come with him even if your clan will never let you follow?

“Good to know I mean nothing to you.” You bite out, your bitter attitude you reserve for those you’ve written off. This is just the first one to mean something to you. 

You leave before he can see your tears fall. There’s no death for a jujutsu sorcerer without regrets… you suppose yours will be no different. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Present Day

You yawn and settle in the chair, crossing your arms as you watch Satoru sitting in the seat across from you. 

“I trust you’re not destroying my house with that student of yours.” You hum, examining your manicured nails. 

“Well Yaga’s cursed doll may have broken a TV but I replaced it. Yuji needs to watch his movies.” His grin widens.

“Then I don’t get why you had the higher ups pull me from my assignment.” You huff in offense. “That was good money.” 

“Like you need it.” He rolls his eyes and unwraps a pastry that he munches on loudly. “Besides I’d like you to hop in to help with Yuji.” 

“Yes, master. Anything for you, oh, Strongest One.” His jaw twitches and you mentally note another win on your tally board. “You really have him just sitting in my basement watching movies? Remind me to pray you never have kids.”

“I’m fantastic with kids! They love me!” He argues before dropping into a more serious tone. “I have someone I trust with him but I was stopped by two unregistered special grade curses last night. Keep them alive pretty please.”

“Someone you trust? I thought that list was nonexistent these days.” You figure keeping them alive involves ensuring Sukuna stays sealed and these two stay healed up with your reverse curse technique. 

Satoru’s phone rings in his pocket, making him smirk when he sees who it is. 

“The sewer?” Your nose crinkles in disgust as you listen, wondering why curses can’t appear in a five star hotel and spa. You’ll make sure that your dry cleaner’s bill makes its way to your brother if he expects you to go there. “I have a higher ups to terrorize but I can drop off some back up for you.”

“You better be providing hazard pay for my clothing.” You mutter as he hangs up, giving you a shit eating grin. 

“You could try not wearing $900 shoes while fighting curses.”

“Says the man who spends over a thousand on one shirt.” You scoff. 

“They don’t get dirty. One of us has limitless.” You glower at him as he pretends to draw a tally on his side of the board. “Don’t look at me like that. At least you won’t be bored.”

Satoru stands, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his navy blue coat, waiting for you to stand, placing a hand is his so he can teleport you. 

Sparing poor Ichiji a ride into the city for you and putting his plan into motion for you? You should be thanking him for being such a wonderful brother. He’s truly the best matchmaker in Japan. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Nanami panted in exertion, his stamina starting to fail, his movement growing sloppy as he compensates for the wound seeping blood into the torn fabric of his shirt. He dodges the swing from the patchwork curse in front of him, in a state to only be able to defend. He grits his teeth in frustration, the match up unfair when he can’t damage the soul of his opponent that’s constantly in flux. He needs to distract him long enough to make a break for it and report this to Gojo. 

A light, quicker cadence of footsteps enters his range of hearing as he ducks behind a large piece of debris, not seeing the arm that had shifted yet again, bending around the rubble to reach for the killing blow, but it never comes. Instead his vision is filled with the flash of blue cursed energy, the veins of energy moving to push the curse’s reach away, grabbing a hold at launching him across the room. 

“Thank yo-” His mouth goes dry as a blur of long white hair streaks across his field of vision, charging the curse from where she slammed him into a pillar. “Don’t let him touch you!” 

Fear like he’s never known floods his system. You shouldn’t be here. Not if it means exposing you to the possibilities that this curse presents. He won’t let you be the next face that he sees, torn, bloody, and lifeless, when he closes his eyes at night. 

“I know.” You snap at him, your cursed energy wrapping around your body like a blanket, making the curse’s attacks graze right over you as energy blasts forth and ties its way around every piece of the curse it touches, slowing him now, sealing him like the talismans you specialize in before he graduated. 

“I forget you know everything.” He grunts, the impatience and immaturity bubbling up to the surface as the memories of your last conversation together flashes through his mind.

“I should have known Satoru Gojo’s sister would give me a run for my money.” The curse cackles maniacally, continuing to fight but slowly drawing back as her technique starts to overwhelm him. “He’ll be so pleased to know you’re a pawn to use in his plan.” 

Nanami circles around him, running towards a weak spot in the wall, grateful that at least he has an opening to end this for now. He swings his blunt blade at the 7:3 weak spot, shattering the concrete and catching the curse off guard. 

“Put me down!” You hiss as he appears suddenly, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you to his good side to drag you away from the curse laying in the rubble behind them. “Let me finish the damn fight, Kento!” 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t put you down until you’re out of the sewer and approaching the road, his pain taking over as he presses a hand against the wound and his hand comes away coated in blood, turning your face sheet white. 

“You’re hurt-” You reach out to him automatically, knowing you can help but you pull away at the last second. You can’t do this out in the open. There’s somewhere you can bring him to patch him up. 

“Where did you take me?” He asks warrily, unsettled by the ritzy interior of the building they’re in and that the door man didn’t even bat an eye when the two of you entered in this state. 

“Satoru owns the building.” You say plainly, refusing to meet him in the eye. He supposes he deserves such a reaction from you, knowing he hurt you all those years ago. 

He follows you into the elevator and up to the top floor, taking in the penthouse apartment that screams Satoru as soon as they enter. 

“Uh uh.” You glare at him as he tries to move into the living room to sit to sew himself shut to stop the bleeding. “Bathroom. You bleed on Satoru’s couch and he’ll have my ass. I’ll be right in to help you.” 

He opens his mouth to ask how you could possibly help him, but thinks better of it considering your mood. He listens, leaving you to where you disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink. 

He leans against the counter of the sink, pressing a towel he found against the wound, dialing Satoru’s number to warn him about the unregistered curse that can kill with a single touch. 

“Want to tell me why you’re doing this?” He rumbles low in his chest, his eyes darting to the crack in the door, making sure you weren’t lurking where you could hear him. “You know she wasn’t ready to see me.”

“If I told you, you’d call me a liar.” Satoru sings across the line, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Maybe I’m just being your bestest friend ever~” 

“Whatever you’re trying, I’m not falling for the prank you’re setting up.” He hisses, the anger bubbling anew. “There’s stirring things up, Gojo, but this is cruel.” 

Nanami can practically see Satoru shrugging nonchalantly, like he couldn’t possibly be doing something wrong.

“Have fun, bestie~” The phone beeps, indicating that he ended the line, making Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Take your shirt off.” You order as soon as you cross the threshold with two glasses filled with a generous serving of expensive whiskey, handing one to him before downing yours in one gulp. 

“E-Excuse you-” He sputters, freezing in place. “Did you just ask me to-” 

“Strip? Yes.” You meet his eyes, keeping your gaze purposefully blank. “How else am I going to heal you?” 

Heal him…? He blinks at you in shock. You mastered Reverse Curse Technique? Enough to heal others? Only Shoko was capable of that…

His fingers move hesitantly down the buttons on his shirt, shedding it and tossing it on the sink so he can wash it when you’re done. He notices that you purposefully advert your eyes from his form, frowning at the disappointment he has no right to feel. 

“This is new.” He says as carefully as he can, wanting desperately to know everything you’ve been doing since he left. 

“I had a lot of time during third year.” He notes an air of sadness in your tone. “Why do you think Satoru chose me to help you with Yuji?” 

He tries to answer but hisses in pain as you prod the wound, kneeling in front of him so you’re eye level with it, adjusting your grip 

“I figured he’s bored and wants to spice things up by torturing his “friends”.” He watches with rapt fascination as the flesh at his waist starts to stitch itself together, leaving his skin like the wound had never been present. The thing you couldn’t heal was the damage the curse had caused to his soul by trying to transfigure it.

“Seems accurate. Considering he didn’t tell me who I’d be helping.” You sigh, your brows pulling together in concentration as you direct your energy into the technique. “But he knew you’d need my skills… this and the sealing abilities.”

A silence stretches between the two of you, but you’ve never been one to be alone with your thoughts for long, even given your present company. “I thought you were done with jujutsu.” A pit forms in your stomach. He was back after everything that happened and it was like your pain was for nothing. “How long have you been back?” 

“I was… but I knew I couldn’t help people here more than in an office cubicle.” His skin jumps slightly as you pull away and adjust your grip to heal a smaller spot left the the side of the tear in his side. “About a year…” 

“A year?” And you didn’t come find me? Somewhere small and distant cries inside of you at that. “You were here during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons?” 

“I was stationed to help in Kyoto… but I didn’t see you there.” He looks away with a sigh, his skin tingling as you move to wipe the residual blood left on his skin. “I looked for you. I figured they would split you and Gojo between the two locations.” 

“I was sent to update the seals on the doors around Tengen to ensure his safety while everyone was away. And set barriers around the school entrances to him. Besides, I’m hardly his counterweight to send elsewhere. I’m only a Semi-Grade 1.” 

“You don’t need to be a Special Grade to make a difference or to save more sorcerers from dying at the hand of curses.” His jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth, feeling bad as soon as he sees your eyes soften like they used to, seeing right through him. 

“You know I would have been there if I wasn’t ordered to attend Tengen…” You stand, dusting the dirt from your knees and leaning against the wall opposite of him. “Especially for the young ones.” 

It wasn’t just Nanami that had experienced a classmate dying on duty. The other two girls in your year died on missions, one in year two the other in year three. You’re sure that if you still agree on anything, it's to make sure students don't need to shoulder the burdens of the jujutsu world if it could be avoided. 

“That wasn’t fair to say to you. Seems I can’t ever say the right things around you…” 

“No it wasn’t.” You wish the fluttering in your heart would stop and leave you to die with the regrets you expected to bear until you were no more. You laugh humorously, all too familiar with the brand of pain he brings into your life. “You excel at walking all over my heart. I used to like you, ya know?” 

He stares, blinking rapidly at you as the new information slots into his mind. The shock reverberates through him. You’ve always been as outspoken and upfront as your brother… would that not have extended to you telling him before he graduated?

Once the shock abates, he’s left with a sense of longing that couldn’t be resolved. “Used to” like him. Past tense. You’d probably moved on by this point. He remembered what Satoru had confided in him when he asked Nanami to look after you. You were 26 with a long list of potential suitors from prominent families to choose from. 

Any hope that he had rekindled in seeing you again slowly starts to die. 

He was too late, and made too many mistakes. Maybe he would leave this world with regrets after all… despite coming back to jujutsu to make things right with you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The unease of seeing Ken again weighs on your heart, especially when you keep catching him looking at you like a wounded puppy days later when you decide if you’re helping out your brother, you can stay in the comfort of your own damn home. 

“Ms. Gojo, ma’am?” Yuji cocks his head as you walk across the living room to bring your stuff up to your bedroom. “Are you staying in Sensei’s safe house with us? I promise we’re not that bad to hang out with. You don’t need to look so down.” 

The comment stops you in your tracks, making you look back at where Nanami and Yuji are settled on your sectional. Nanami’s gaze is carefully averted, trying to not have his mood called out by Yuji too. 

“Yuji, you know this is my house, right?” Leave it to Satoru to try sounding cool by claiming he owns a dedicated safe house. “Satoru is borrowing it for the time being… sorry. More like commandeering it. Asshole.”

“I like this one…” A deep voice purrs as an eye and mouth appears on Yuji’s cheek before he slaps it, wincing at the pain before it moves to the back of his hand as he goads you on. “If you dislike the man, help me destroy him.”

“High praise from the King of Curses.” You deadpan, mentally rolling your eyes. “Stay cooped up in there or I’ll make sure you sleep another thousand years.”

“Such vile words from a woman’s mouth. In my day, you’d be slain so deliciously for such impertinence.” 

“Whelp.” You shrug, looking very much like your brother at that moment. “Good thing I’m allowed to have thoughts and opinions in this age.” 

You disappear up the stairs, ascending them without paying any mind to the final words flying from the demon residing in Yuji’s body. 

“Woman! I didn’t dismiss you!” Sukuna’s yells echo after you to the second level of your home and he snarls when he hears you snort at the dramatics, listening to Yuji chastise him for disrespecting you in your own home until you get far enough down the hall to not hear them anymore. 

“Wait up.” Nanami jogs up the stairs after you, trying to take your bag from your arms. “I didn’t know this was your place either… I sort of took the master bedroom.” 

“... Is Yuji in the spare room?” You hold onto your back tighter, not allowing him to carry any of the weight for you. If you had known that you wouldn’t have a room to sleep in you would have stayed at the hotel you were in. 

“He is. Listen… I don’t mind sharing with you. It’s not like we didn’t in school.” He rubs the back of his neck, knowing that there isn’t another bed in the house. “Of course, that is, if you’re comfortable. I don’t want to assume it's ok, not knowing your current situation.” 

His heart beats in a frantic rhythm in this chest. If this was your house, he didn’t notice that you lived here, let alone another man. There had been a basic set of feminine clothing in the closet and a small stock of high end body care items in the bathroom, but nothing to note a masculine presence had ever occupied the space. A tiny corner of his heart holds onto the hope that he was right all those years ago, that he would one day love you and be able to have you. 

“As long as you didn’t become a pervert in your old age.” He almost doesn’t catch the smirk twitching at the corner of your mouth and the playful gleam in your eye, he rolls his eyes with a chuckle and yanks your bag from your grasp.

“I’m only a year older than you.” He playfully flicks your nose, his eyes lighting up when you scrunch your face and swat his hand away, the echoes of who you were in school still there.

“You didn’t even deny it.” You whine and make your way into your room, seeing his neat pile of items on your spare night stand, the rumpled blankets next to the side of the bed you normally occupy, fills you with a nostalgic kind of warmth. “You better not be. I sleep naked.” 

You double over in laughter, hearing him choke on his shock before it throws him into a coughing fit, his face bright red. He’s still so easily flustered, even looking like… well… like that. 

Your cheeks flush a light shade of pink, remembering what he looks like under those blue button downs. He didn’t look like that in his third year and you wonder how he managed to maintain his physique while working in the corporate environment in Tokyo.

“Don’t worry. I’m fucking with you.” You chuckle, hoping your flush can be excused on your fits of laughter.  Resolving yourself to settle in for the night, you start removing your jewelry, starting with your earring, setting them on the nightstand . “I’ll wear pajamas for you.”

Even if you didn’t want to. 

Hours later, Nanami lays awake, willing his mind to be as blank as the ceiling he’s been staring at. Eventually, he shifts, settling on his side, facing your back. Pajamas hadn’t been the mercy he thought they would be. 

His gaze trails the bare expanse of your back where your silk tank top dips, stray strands of long white hair escape the messy bun you tied before burrowing your face in the pillows. His journey is halted by the faint white scarring that stretches across your left shoulder blade, disappearing around your front. 

The lines of the scars weren’t raised or angry, indicating a reverse curse technique was used to heal them. But the fact that any mark was left at all? It either took her long enough to get to healing them, or they were serious enough that not all the damage could be erased. 

The fear that he felt in the sewer when she appeared pales in comparison to the guilt that slams into him. Had he been sitting at a desk in some high rise in the city, selfishly avoiding his fate, while you were out risking your life?

Never again. He promises himself. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You shouldn’t go, Yuji.” Your grip tightens on where your phone is still glued to your ear, Ken waiting on the line for you to relay the emergency in front of them. 

A high school was set in the sights of the patchwork curse that almost managed to kill Nanami and Yuji’s friend was stuck within its halls. Yuji’s body shakes with the desire to run into the fray. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Gojo…” He sprints past you, slamming open the door before he disappears, running as fast as he can to the school’s campus.

“Yuji!” You shout after him, gritting your teeth in frustration. He shouldn’t have to shoulder more burdens than he already does. 

“Y/N.” Kento murmurs over the phone, pulling you back to attention. “They lowered a barrier. We need to make sure he can’t get away and drop another one around them.”

“You’re asking me to sit on the sidelines.” You hotly argue, storming out to find your car, following Yuji regardless of what your role will be. “You can’t just push me to the side because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt!”

“No. I’d never, hun.” Your old pet name sounds strained on his tongue, a long beat of silence stretches between you before his voice cracks, filling the silence. “I just… We can’t let him get away. I need you when this is over.” 

It only comes at the cost of tying your hands. Imprisoning you beyond a barrier where you’re stuck without being able to back him up or even know if he’s alive. 

“Y-you better come back to me then.” You choke into the phone. 

“Always.” He promises and you both know that promise is a lie. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You pace the sidewalk next to your car, the barrier still in place until you were told to drop it. A trail of cold sweat drips down your spine with each minute that passes without any update on what’s happening within the barriers. 

The ringing of your phone makes you jump out of your skin and you answer it without a glance at the caller ID. 

“You can drop the barrier.” Your brother’s voice sings through the phone and it makes your stomach drop that Kento wasn’t the one to reach out to you. “The slimy bastard escaped through the sewers below the barriers.” 

“But w-what about-” You stammer, your insides twisting and catastrophizing the worst case scenario. 

“He’s fine, Y/N.” His voice is softer than he’s ever addressed you and you stammer out an excuse, that he wasn’t what you were going to ask about. “You don’t cry in the bathroom of someone’s going away party and then run out if you don’t care about them.” 

“I told you to never bring that up again.” You croak, embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “I was just upset that he was leaving. It’s not that deep.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He dismisses you easily. “Thank me for forcing you on a mission together when you idiots admit your feelings for each other. Especially if Yuji’s not around to save him from the patchwork’s domain expansion next time.”

“You didn’t want to lead off with that!?” You scream into the microphone, pulling the gaze of a couple of people walking across the street. As the barrier you set dissolves, you launch yourself into the driver’s seat. “Where are they? I’ll get them.” “Ichiji is dropping Yuji off to me. They left already.” He hums. “He’ll go back for Nanami after. He’s catching Ino up so he can search for the curse in the sewers.” 

“So what the hell am I supposed to do?” You growl at him, annoyed that you continue to be ignored when you could be in those underground passages, tracking and sealing him away with your talisman technique. The tires on your car squeal as you peel out of your parking space, turning the wheel to head home. 

“Rest.” Satoru says simply. “We have at least three unregistered special grade curses on the run and no clue what’s organizing them. Whatever is coming, we're going to need you with Shoko.” 

“Nursemaid. Got it.”  You can hear how he rolls his eyes before he simply hangs up on you. 

The halls of your home echo when you unlock the door, the stagnant air clinging to your skin and mocking you with what it would feel like if you didn’t share this space with Kento. 

You let your body carry you to the kitchen, your bare feet padding down the hall until you find your liquor cabinet, downing a double straight with a grimace. The glass clatters as you set it on the counter and slide it away from you. 

Your shoulders droop as you lean against the counter, letting your head hang so you can take a steadying breath. You remain that way until you hear footsteps approaching you from the front door. 

Your tired gaze meets Kento’s and a silence stretches between you as you simply take a moment to look at one another, to realize that the other is still there and that hasn’t been ripped away from you. 

“A-are you ok?” Your eyes widen as Nanami walks towards you with purpose, your feet slipping backwards until your lower back meets the granite surface of the counter. “What are you do-” 

The question dies on your lips as the distance is closed with his hips against yours, pinning you in place as both of his hands cup your cheeks. He uses the position to hold your face in place as he slams his lips to yours desperately. 

A shocked whine emanates from your throat, but you're quickly melting against him, moaning openly as you seek his lips in return, fisting his shirt so he doesn’t try to pull away. 

HIs hands slide in a path down your body, his palms finding purchase on your hips, gripping the skin there to try to get closer. You groan, wanting to feel him grind against your center instead. 

You twine your arms around him, refusing to break where the kiss has grown heated, your tongue tangling together, drunk of the taste of one another. You use the leverage to hop up to sit on the counter and you gasp into his mouth when he doesn’t miss a beat, easily gripping the back of your clothed thighs to spread them around his waist, urging them to lock at the ankles behind him, your ass perched on the edge of the flat surface. 

You imagine what his hands look like gripping your ass, kneading the soft skin there as he uses his raw strength to move your hips against the growing erection in his pants. 

“K-Ken please.” You plead breathlessly as the sloppy, wet kisses transition across your cheek, to along your jaw and down your neck. “Fuck- please-” 

“Please.” He rumbles your own command back at you before reaching to fist a hand in your hair, forcing your head back and to the side with a sharp gasp. “Use your words or I’ll have to start guessing how you’d want me to take you.” 

“Please. I n-need-” A small sob bubbles out as he immediately bites down on the juncture of your neck. “K-Ken, I need more.” 

“Shit you’re so eager…” A low growl rumbles from him as he loops his fingers in your pants, starting to pull them down your legs with your panties. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need me.” 

“I need you.” You lean forward as soon as your pants are off to kiss him again, your hands easily locating the belt cinching his slacks up. You pull it open and pop the button before pulling the zipper just enough to slide your hand in. 

His hips buck into your hand as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping until he’s mad with the need to be inside of you, scrambling to drop his pants to the floor so he can tug you closer to shoves his way inside of you. 

“Hun-” His fingertips dig bruises into the skin of your ass, dimpling this skin with his hold as he leans to lap at the skin at your neck, his hips still grinding into your hold around him.  “We should s-slow down. Let me t-take care of you first.” 

It took everything in him to try to pump the brakes. After 10 years of knowing you, he didn’t want to wait any longer. 

“L-Later.” You pant. “We’ll have time for that later. Just please f-fuck me.” 

“I don’t have a-” You pull him by his cock, trailing his head through your folds, shuddering as you tease your clit with it before positioning the tip at your entrance. 

“I don’t care, Ken.” You feel as if you’ll explode if you wait a moment longer. You don’t want a barrier between the two of you, the consequences of that be damned. 

He pulls you forward as he thrusts into you suddenly, making you fall back onto your elbows with a long moan, your cunt taking the brunt of the force of his cock bullying its way into your vice grip. 

“M-move-” Your body shakes, squirming on his length for any measure of friction you could find to help the burning heat spreading from your center.

“I can’t yet, baby.” He bows over, resting his forehead on your shoulder, giving the skin there a soft kiss. “Or I’ll fucking cum in you too soon.” 

Instead he takes a deep breath, reaching between you to rub your clit in steady circles, building you up to be able to cum with him. 

“Baby.” He coos in your ear, slowly starting to pull out of you before slamming home against your cervix, increasing his pace while he acclimates to your tight grip. “Your precious little cunt clamped down on me when I mentioned coming in you.” 

It does again, pulling him deeper as he groans, nearly losing himself in the process. 

“There it is.” He growls, pushing you back to lay on the counter by your neck, pinning you there with his hand around your throat. “You like the thought of me breeding you, princess? None of those jujutsu suitors good enough for this pussy?” 

“T-There aren’t any-” Your legs spread, falling wider to accommodate his thrusts as they build in intensity, his thumb rubs frantically against you, doubling its speed when he feels you clench around him, groaning at the high pitched whines that accompany it. 

He soaks you in as you cum, the flush of liquid against his hips that make the slapping of his hips against yours that much more obscene, how your eyes have gone so cloudy and trusting that you accept being prone with his hand where he could harm you, and the roundness of your mouth as your brows furrow together as you shake violently with your high. 

“K-Ken-” Your broken voice cracks as his thrust overstimulates you. “G-God I need your cum inside of me. Pl-please daddy-” 

The pet name has his eyes rolling back, his cock twitching inside of you before it explodes against your womb in spurts of cum that continue until you’re leaking it onto  the floor below you. 

“Shit.” He curses, a small panic in his eyes as he comes down from his high. “I.. I’m sorry. I wanted to be slow the first time… So you know how much I loved you.” 

His confession thunders through your chest, sending a truly genuine smile to grace your lips. 

“You love me?” You inquire as the room still spins in circles, making sure he said what you thought. 

“I do.” He smirks, leaning in for a slow, loving kiss. “From the day I met you until we’re parted.”

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[birrdies]

Sorry to give you 80 options but you know me haha 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Scar rehearsed it twelve times.

Once for each step it takes to cross the rotunda. He can’t tell if it’s the building that’s not so wide or if it’s his own desperate steps that make it seem like such an inconsequential distance. Either way it’s stuffed to the brim with people and their wandering hands, fingers loosely grabbing at his biceps and drunken congratulations on strangers lips like a baited fish hook nudging his cheek.

It’s an inauguration after all— a hard-earned, highly anticipated one at that— so Scar can hardly blame them for their excitability. Any other time, he might bite that hook, just to see what comes of it, eager to taste something fresh. But tonight is not any other night.

Tonight, his sights are set elsewhere. A clear target— albeit one that’s spent most of the night on the opposite side of the rotunda, as if keeping a thirty foot radius from Scar at all times is necessary to his survival.

Grian.

He’s standing there, tucked against a marble column with one foot propped up behind him and donning a deep maroon suit that couldn’t have fit him better. He isn’t drowning in it, nor does it dwarf him either. The tightly-tailored jacket hugs a set of broad shoulders, muscles Scar never knew existed beneath the loose button-ups and sweater vests Grian drowns himself in when he’s at the office, too busy with his nose buried in blueprints to notice Scar’s wandering eyes.

Only now his nose is tucked in a flute of champagne that makes his lip curl when he gets a taste. His hair, frizzy with the summer’s heat, curls around his face and cheeks. The bridge of his nose is covered by a black matte mask studded with feathers around the edges, like some kind of showman corvid. But even with the mask, even six paces away, Scar can’t miss the coy tilt of Grian’s head. An avoidant gesture that’s betrayed by the way he keeps his chin high, his nose upward. He must feel Scar coming from a mile away.

So, when Scar gets within ear-shot— closer than you might think, given the crowd only growing rowdier as more and more empty flutes are collected on trays and replaced with full ones— he says it. Just as he practices, the words as smooth as honey but still somehow drowned out beneath the noise.

Thirteenth try is the charm.

“May I have this dance?”

Grian doesn’t turn to him right away, but he does flinch. Like he’s trying to decide if he can get away with pretending he hadn’t heard Scar.

Luckily, he comes to his senses quick enough to jerk his head Scar’s direction. Even with most of his face covered he can feel the dubious raise of Grian’s brow— his skepticism a palpable thing.

“Why?”

Scar tilts his head. “Why else would you come?”

“I don’t want to get fired,” Grian says, grimacing after another sip of champagne from the flute he’s barely made a dent in it.

“You think so little of me?” Scar gasps, clutching his chest in a flare of dramatics that has Grian’s lip traitorously curling— this time with amusement. “I’m wounded, Grian!”

“I dunno,” he says. “the message you left on my answering machine saying that if I didn’t come you’d fire me was pretty damning. Gonna fire me if I don’t dance with you too?”

“No, but I’ll pout about it loudly, Scar says, and with the way Grian groans, tossing his head back, you’d think it was a worse threat than unemployment.

He huffs, a small, frustrated sound he makes so often Scar’s not convinced he’s even aware he does it. But Scar savors it, the grin stretching his face almost painfully as he holds out a hand and waits for Grian to take it.

It doesn’t take Grian long to. He abandons his glass on the ledge at the base of the column and pushes himself off of it, straightening the slightly rumpled collar of his suit jacket and tossing a hand through his hair. Only when he’s rightfully fluffed, like a bird preening its feathers, does he take Scar’s hand.

Scar leads Grian to the center of the rotunda by the hand, the curious crowd splitting to make way for the mayor and his special guest. Grian shrinks under their gaze, head ducked and hand tightening around Scar’s, a reaction Scar doesn’t fully understand because he’s never wanted to show anything off more.

Grian, squeezing Scar’s hand. No one else’s.

For a moment, when he holds Grian’s waist with one hand and folds their palms together with the other, he can almost pretend like it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

“You’re gonna have to lead,” Grian mumbles after a moment of awkward buffering, his fingers relentlessly twitching in Scar’s hold. He then adjusts the hand resting on his waist, forcing it up higher a few inches. “And don’t get any funny ideas.”

Scar chuckles and takes the first step forward, bringing Grian along with him. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Grian hums skeptically. “Yeah. Sure.”

Scar's ideas are anything but funny, but he knows Grian well enough to keep his mouth shut and not push his luck. Not now anyway, when he can feel Grian's nervous pulse all the way through his palm. Sure, Grian's always been relatively allergic to parties and sequins and general fun most days, but he seems especially squirrely now. Even as they dance, Scar leading him through the shifting tides of the crowd, it's like his mind is elsewhere. Hands jittering, eyes skirting, feet shuffling and nearly tripping on Scar's shoe every other step. It's hard to get swept up in the music when Grian keeps him so relentlessly tethered. Corporeal.

"You alright?" Scar asks after the first song, making no move to let Grian go. "Y'know, having fun is kinda a prerequisite for dancing with Mayor GoodTimes."

"I'm fine," Grian says with a small scoff, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when he pauses his hypervigilant gaze-sweeping to glance back at Scar. "You look like a turkey."

"Peacock," Scar corrects, lifting his hand from Grian's waist to brush the multicolored feathers layered over his own fine piece of velvet. Bdubs really is a genius, coming up with this whole masquerade idea. He's always been better with a mask to hide behind. Even if he's not the other guy right now, he can pretend he is. He can borrow his strength, his confidence, his charm.

"Of course. Plumage," Grian says with an thin, airy laugh. He lets Scar pull him back in as the next song sweeps them up. A slower tune that has Scar pulling Grian closer to him.

This close, beneath the glitter of the crystalloid-diamond chandelier, Scar can't help but stare back. His usual fanning of freckles are hidden beneath that black, feathery masquerade mask.

"You know," Scar says with little thought. "You kinda remind me of someone."

Grian's paranoid eyes dart everywhere but Scar's face when he asks, absently, "Hm? Who?"

The resemblance truly is uncanny. Those dark, paranoid eyes framed by dark black fabric, making every dark or nervous thought crossing them twenty times heavier. But it's not possible, no matter how bad Scar wishes it to be. His extra-curricular coworker wouldn't come ten feet within Scar willingly, let alone let one hand hold him at the waist and let himself be lead with the other. But a man can dream. Scar can fantasize about a time or place he can reconcile the two people inside him-- the mayor and the vigilante-- and have the two objects of his affection:

Grian and CuteGuy.

Scar parts his lips to respond before he thinks better of it.

He's here tonight as the mayor. Grian is here as his coworker, a part of his campaign. Nothing more.

Though these days, the lines are getting far blurrier.

"Aw, nevermind," Scar dismisses with a soft smile as he pulls Grian closer. "Must just be a trick of the light."

[draculasfavoritewife]

No Word For Hero

Summary: You love him and the way he will always be your protector, but sometimes facing the truth is the most terrifying thing of all.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares and discussions of death. The one-two punch of angst and fluffiness all in one. This one is a fair bit more somber than my other Mando stuff.

Another trope I will never ever get tired of -- the "having a nightmare while sleeping with your partner" routine! 🥳 Gets me in my feels every time, particularly with a character like Din who (to me at least) canonically also has frequent nightmares. I first drafted this one a couple summers ago as a result of all my feelings after that big moment in "The Marshal", as I'm sure will be obvious.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

It's coming, exploding up from beneath the billowing sands, looming over everyone, titanic, monstrous, ravenous....

...He turns to you, ever so briefly, tilts his head in that meaningful look you know all too well...that damn look that means he's going to play hero again.

Damn his altruism.

When is he going to stop?

You already know that answer, too. It lurks forever in the back of your mind, awake or asleep, always whispering there, a constant venom ever deepening its grasp around your heart until one day the cold reality finally breaks it.

He'll stop when he finally doesn't come back to you.

When he's at last granted the warrior's death you know he desires.

Only then.

You can't even scream as he disappears down the dragon's throat, too frozen with horror to make a sound....

You bolt upright, gasping for breath, damp hair clinging to your face and tears running down, their salty tang sharp on your lips.

Stupid nightmares.

"Go away," you mutter, rubbing harshly at your eyes. "Just stop."

The cot is small, realistically much too small for two adults, and your distress is painfully evident to the man sharing it with you, whose arm has just been violently dislodged from its place around your torso.

"Bad dream?"

He sounds tired. He hardly ever sleeps through a full night at the best of times, and even then it's rarely a deep sleep.

If the old saying "sleep with one eye open" were actually true, Din would be its personification.

You curse your overactive mind a second time, for disturbing his precious few moments of rest along with your own.

"I'm fine." You don't lie back down, instead pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms tightly around them. Normally you find his quarters chilly, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins makes the room suddenly feel close and stuffy.

He shifts against you in the dark, no doubt to study your posture. "You don't sound fine."

You sigh. "I will be. You should try and get some sleep, Din."

You hear him lean back into the wall, a long exhale betraying stiffness somewhere in his muscles.

You've offered him the side of the bed that's not right up against the wall, but to your surprise he actually likes to be pressed closely between your body and the solidness of metal at his back.

You suspect it gives him a sense of security in a life that holds so little for him.

"I'm sorry I woke you," you add before he can speak again.

"You didn't." His revelation is cool and distant, as if his lack of rest means nothing to him. "I haven't slept at all tonight."

You turn to stare at him in dismay, only to be met with the void of deep darkness. "Why didn't you --"

"What? Wake you up to tell you I can't sleep?" Somehow you know he's shaking his head at you. "That fixes nothing, Cyar'ika. My sleep was disturbed since long before we met." His voice softens as he reaches for you, his large, comfortingly familiar hand stroking down your side. "But when I have you in my arms, listening to your breathing, I can at least find some peace. And that is often enough."

You let out another shuddering breath and gaze out into the dim compartment, the images from your nightmare replaying over and over behind your eyes like a holovid stuck on loop.

"I think I need some air," you murmur.

"Take my shirt, then." You're grateful he doesn't try to stop you; he knows you were taking care of yourself for a long time before you two struck up your partnership. He trusts you to look out for danger.

"Vor'e, Cyare." You slide from the bed, his fingers trailing away from your hip as you break from his gentle touch. He watches as you blindly take his shirt from the pile of clothes left on the floor and pull it over your head, pausing only to grab a vibroblade before exiting his quarters.

"I'll come back," you promise softly.

And the words sting deep down as they leave your lips, knowing that one day, one of you might not be able to keep that promise.

The night is cool and clear on this planet, and the breeze smells like living growth from the thick woods nearby. It's a far cry from the dust and smoke of so many of the worlds you've stayed on before, and soon you start to calm down, heartbeat returning to normal and perspiration drying at the wind's light touch. Everything is peaceful around you, the night birds calling and water flowing somewhere behind the trees.

Not for the first time, your thoughts stray towards the impossibility of trying to stay somewhere like this place, to drop everything you know and carve out a life on a frontier planet somewhere. You and Din and Grogu, living modestly and secretly away from the prying eyes of the Imperials or the Jedi, pretending at normalcy....

There's the key word.

Pretending.

You've played many parts since you lost your buir so many years ago. Dancer in the clubs of the Core worlds, thief, animal wrangler, pilot, hired gun. You could adapt, you feel fairly certain. It's the skill that's most reliably kept you alive this long.

But Din....

He's so deeply entrenched in his upbringing. His honor, and the hunt, mean everything to him. Whatever else he tries to be, he will always be the Mandalorian first and foremost. The Way runs through his veins, thicker than blood, and the fierce heart of a warrior beats beneath the beskar.

It's why he will ultimately always make sacrifices to keep those under his protection safe.

It's who he is. His identity.

The reason that one day he might not emerge from the belly of the beast in triumph.

And you love him, exactly the way he is. You'd never ask him to change.

But Maker, sometimes the knowledge of what that means hurts deeper than any physical wound.

So you stand there at the edge of the woods and let the tears come, let the sobs wrack your body as you bury yourself deeper in his comforting shirt, praying that the day never comes that all you have left are memories and clothes that smell like him.

Eventually, your grief runs its course and you can breathe once again. The crunch of footsteps in the damp grass warrants a side glance, but as you thought, it's only your beroya, come to check on you, no doubt.

"You've been out here a long time," he remarks.

"Had a lot on my mind."

He encircles you in his arms from behind, chin resting in the dip of your shoulder. You're surprised that he didn't replace his helmet to come out here, but sunrise is still a long way off.

"I'm usually the one with the nightmares," he teases softly. "This one must have been rough. Want to talk?"

You find his hands at your waist, interlock your fingers with his.

"I lost someone. Someone very important to me."

Turning slightly so you can rest your cheek against his, you kiss the very edge of his lips. "It scares me, Din."

He's quiet for some time, and you try to imagine the expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers. "I can't give you anything but my word that I will always try my hardest to come back to you. That is what fuels me, ner'kar'ta. The fire in my blood, the strength in my bones, is knowing that I need to make it back for you. But I realize that it is a double-edged blade. Because it also means I would give everything, to keep you safe in the end."

"I know, Din. I remember what my buir used to tell me, you know, how we have no word for 'hero' in our mother tongue, because to be Mando'ade is to risk all for the ones you love. I know I'm so selfish." You turn all the way around at last, hiding your face in his bare chest. "But I accept your vow. And it will have to be enough."

Collecting yourself and finally raising your haunted gaze to his, you manage a small smile. "But I will fight for you, Din Djarin. Death will find one hell of a struggle when it finally comes for you, I can promise you that."

"There's my girl." The fond grin in his voice is audible. "Now, will you come back to bed? It's getting lonesome in there."

You let him lead you back to the ship, and the sigh of the wind now seems to promise to whisk your fears away for the time being.

The door slides shut behind you, and you shiver, realizing all of a sudden just how cold you are. His shirt is a welcome barrier against the biting chill, and you wonder how he was able to get along without it outside.

"Cold?" he asks.

"Yes." You reach out for him, wordlessly begging for his warmth.

He sidesteps you and folds his arms across his chest. "Take it off," he demands, and indicates the shirt with a nod, husky voice brimming with humor and a shade of something hungrier. "Or I will."

You hug the worn fabric closer to your body and shake your head mutinously. "But it's the only thing keeping me warm!"

"So you've chosen the hard way." He crosses the small space in a couple of long strides and starts to tease the garment off of you, bit by agonizing bit. "And how dare you let a piece of clothing do a man's job."

"You're making me cold again," you complain as he pulls you into bed with him, the hunter retreating back to his lair to finish off his fortunate prey.

"Then honor dictates I repair the damage I've caused," he hums, and you surrender to the bliss of being completely enveloped in his embrace. Din has always run hot, ever since you started sleeping together, and his warmth and familiar weight are so much better than any sweet dream of yours could be.

In the here and now, he's still alive, and he's still yours.

There will be no more tears tonight.

"Better?" he growls into your throat.

You run your fingers through his thick curls, sighing at the way he always manages to banish all of your dark thoughts away. And maybe now there will even be time for him to get some sleep before morning as well.

"I am now."

Vor'e = Thank you

Buir = Parent

Beroya = Bounty Hunter

Ner'kar'ta = My heart

Mando'ade = Child of Mandalore

[bp-zb1fics]

hi! i read your yujin post and i LOVED IT and it kinda inspired this idea/request

male reader and ricky have been close friends for a long time. reader was always the sociable one who dotes on ricky all the time while ricky was always quiet and more intimidating one. one time reader gets sick and expects to take care of himself but to his surprise ricky comes over to take care of him (maybe because ricky was always in love with male reader?🫢)

you can adjust or even skip this one if you want😅

Tall & Handsome & will take care of you~

pairing: ricky x reader

genre: highschool au (same verse as shy, shy, shy fic), fluff, romantic tropes

tw/tags: long time friends meet again, banter, yunseo cameo, slightly jealous lovelicky, swearing, kisses, dog mafia as protect yujin’s eyes squad, sickness (not serious), hand massages, squishmallow gift, ricky is taller than you for plot purposes

wc: 1905

summary: you’ve known ricky for a long time but he still manages to surprise you.

a/n hi anon! thanks for requesting this, i really had fun with the ricky/reader dynamic and since you loved the yujin request so much, it only made sense for me to set it in the same universe. For those who read shy, shy, shy~ I left a little easter egg that will definitely tie up to the part two of that fic that was requested by another lovely anon so keep an eye out for it!

Check my pinned for more fics~

part 2

As the class vice president, you were tasked to assist Park Gunwook, your class president, in greeting and orienting the new students. When the teacher ushered them in, the first one you saw was a tall, unfairly attractive brunette boy. You and Gunwook exchanged glances. How the fuck could someone be that good-looking? 

The first new student who introduced himself as Kim Gyuvin also looked vaguely terrified of Gunwook who decided to spend the summer bulking up. Discreetly, you rolled your eyes. Sooner or later, he’ll find out that the intimidating impression was a front and Gunwook was nothing but a big baby that whined at you to get out of class president duties he disliked. 

Your attention is directed to the other new student who walks in, blond hair expertly parted, silver necklace and earrings gleaming. He’s also tall, unfairly attractive and worst of all, you knew that face.

“Ricky?” You sputtered out.

You’ve known each other since he was a scrawny kid with a mouth full of braces. While you kept in contact when he had moved overseas, he never mentioned anything about moving back and more importantly, transferring to your school.

The teacher, Gunwook and Gyuvin all freeze as you throw your arms around your long-time friend. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, you little shit?” You hissed into his ear while you tried to squeeze the life out of him with your hug. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“He’s an old friend.” You tell the teacher enthusiastically after you’ve released him and let him introduce himself to your dumbfounded companions. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Only now, he’s tall, blond and stupidly handsome, you think. You really need to get yourself together. 

After getting over the shock of that is Ricky, you’re your usual bright, chipper class vice president self, showing him and Gyuvin where they’ll be sitting, what the class schedule is like and including little tips about each class. They draw quite a few stares, most likely for both being over 180 cm and looking like models. 

Still, you get through the day with Gyuvin being less afraid of Gunwook despite the latter’s uncomfortable staring which you’ll need to talk to him about later. Because no Gunwook, even if the new student looks like a damn prince, we don’t stare at him for that long. The class resident joker, Kum Junhyeon, seems to have taken a shine to Gyuvin which is good because he’s making friends but also bad for the chaos you see in your future.

Meanwhile, Ricky seems to be unbothered, settling in almost immediately. He looked so comfortable that you’d almost think he’s been in this class the whole time. You’re still most definitely ambushing him at lunch break. There’s going to be a lot of catching up to do.

__________________________________________

Three absolutely chaotic years later…

“Ricky!” You scold the blond while shoving another snack into Yujin’s hands. “Stop it, you’re scaring him.”

While his glaring dials down, it’s still obviously there and Yujin gulps before thanking you and hurrying back over to where his own class president is being doted on by Junhyeon, Gunwook and Gyuvin. You’ve taken to calling those three the dog mafia, their joint antics always go big but also a little clumsy.

Frowning, you walk over to Ricky who’s finally stopped glaring and swat him weakly.

“You scared away the baby. You know how excited I get whenever those three bring them over.”

Ricky has the audacity to look unfazed, reaching to take one of the snacks you’re holding.

“They were taking my snacks.” He stated simply.

“Excuse me mister, your snacks?”

“Yep.”

You give him a look and he stares back, shameless. Then a ridiculous thought pops into your head and you smack him playfully.

“Awwww, is little Lovelicky jealous?” You coo almost imitating the aegyo voice that Junhyeon likes to do.

“....Nope.” He answers without missing a beat. You pout, smacking him again.

“God, you’re no fun.”

You turn to the dog mafia and pause when you see that they’ve got their hands over Yujin and his friend’s eyes.

“Uh…what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Gyuvin fires back.

“We’re protecting our children from the horrific sight of our cool ice president and class vice prince flirting.” Junhyeon chimes in, scrambling words as per usual.

You sigh and look at Gunwook for help. He shrugs.

The chaos you see in your future indeed.

__________________________________________

“Ah, excuse me.”

You look up from packing your things. Gunwook’s already stepped out, the latest student officer meeting having wrapped up. 

“Ah, Yunseo-ssi, what can I do for you?” You say, smiling at the other boy. 

Ji Yunseo is the vice president of one of the other classes in your year. He’s also unfailingly nice and never a pain to work with which you can’t say is true for some other officers. Along with Gunwook, he’s always been supportive of the ideas you propose.

“Wahh we’ve been working together for three years, don’t you think it’s about time we speak casually?” He says, playfully thumping your arm.

You stifle a giggle as you finish placing everything in your bag and return his banter. 

“Ah it’s because we’re colleagues, Yunseo-ssi, got to stay professional.”

Yunseo smiles at you, watching as you heave the bag over your shoulder.

“Let me carry that for you,” he offers.

You’re about to decline politely when the bag is lifted off your shoulders.

“I’ve got it.”

You turn just to see Ricky slinging the bag over his own shoulder like it weighs nothing. His expression is the usual impassive, almost holier-than-thou that he does particularly when Junhyeon and Gyuvin get up to their shenanigans.

“Ricky-ah, it’s okay, I can hold it.” You reach for the bag only for him to hold it out of your grasp. Huffing at him, you turn to Yunseo who’s smile seems a little less bright, eyes flicking between you and Ricky.

“What were you saying?” You ask him, still bright and chipper so not to dampen the mood like your best friend has.

“Ah nothing. I’ll see you at the next meeting.” The other boy says almost too politely before walking off.

You frown after him. “Weird.” You comment before turning back to the blond.

“I swear I can carry that by myself.”

“Nope.”

“Come on, give it here. Ya, stop holding it over my head like I can’t reach it.”

“...”

“Ugh, fine. God, you’re impossible.”

__________________________________________

In your defence, you didn’t think that a few late nights (a whole lot, more likely) would end up with you getting sick. Except you do. Get sick.

You wake up with your head pounding something fierce, your nose stuffy and an itchy throat. Picking up your phone, you send a quick text to Gunwook explaining your unfortunate situation. Making a mental note to check the cabinet for cold and flu medicine later, you pull the blanket over your head and pass the fuck out.

When you wake up again, someone’s running their fingers through your hair. Before you can make a guess, you smell his cologne, expensive yet comforting even with your stuffed up nose. With much effort, you slowly open your eyes to see a familiar blond head staring down on you with an oddly soft expression.

“...time is it?” You slur, almost missing the hand in your hair as he lifts it up to check his watch. Apparently you’ve slept almost the whole day away. You attempt to get up only for your body to drop back onto the mattress like a deadweight.

Ricky sighs. Suddenly there are hands propping you up gently. A glass of water and fever reducer tablet is given to you and he watches intently as you take it, snatching the tablet packet and glass out of your hands before you can attempt to reach and place it on the bedside table. 

“I brought your notes.” He said, gesturing to the stack on your desk. “Gunwook made copies of his, I’ll come back tomorrow and until you get better.”

“Wahh, you don’t need to spoil me, Ricky-ah.” You scold half-heartedly. He doesn’t try to dignify you with a response.

“You should get more sleep.” He says instead. And he stays till you fall asleep.

Over the next few days, you find out that Ricky is, in fact, not joking when he said until you get better. He’s at your home after class everyday without fail, bringing copies of Gunwook’s notes and maybe a few extra things that he insists are for the good of your health. While you didn’t know how a giant pink squishmallow would help you get better, you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Damn, even if I know they’ll probably make my headache worse, I kinda miss Gunwookie, Gyuvinie, even Junhyeonie.” You say offhandedly as Ricky massages your hand, claiming some sort of health reason that you didn’t even care to question.

“That’s exactly why I told them not to visit until you’re better.” Ricky comments as he presses his thumb up and down your palm in a motion that was quite soothing actually.

“Don’t lie to me Ricky-ah, you just want to keep me for yourself, no?” You joke.

The silence that follows is suddenly heavy as Ricky continues to keep his eyes on your hand. And then-

“And what if I do?”

Your mind goes blank for a second, watching his face, his expression not changing. He must be joking with you, right?

“Aigooo, does Lovelicky have a crush?” You shoot back weakly. 

His fingers stop massaging your hand. He looks up. To anyone else, his expression would be the same but for you, there were certain tells, the slightest pink at the tips of his ears, the subtle way he swallows, the earnest hopefulness in his eyes when he says-

“Yes….”

“....I’ve always liked you.”

__________________________________________

Yujin is confused.

“So they weren’t dating before?” He asks Gyuvin, the older patting his cheek indulgently as they watch you hand feed Ricky snacks, stealing kisses in between bites.

“Nope. Our lovely vice president was oblivious as always and ice prince over there was too busy scaring away the competition to realise that he hadn't even popped the question.”

“But they’re dating now?” Yujin says right before Ricky catches you in a longer kiss, Gyuvin squawking and covering Yujin’s eyes.

“You really don’t need to keep doing that, hyung.” Yujin retorts once Gyuvin deems you two wholesome again. Nevermind that you’re halfway sitting on Ricky’s lap which the blond looks almost too happy about.

“But you’re A BABY.” Junhyeon chimes in dramatically after losing interest in the conversation between Gunwook and the president of Yujin’s class.

“Might be a good idea to ask your class president out before you end up like them, Yujin-ah.” Gyuvin sagely advises after following the younger’s gaze to said conversation.

Yujin’s nose wrinkles. “Ew hyung, we’re just friends.”

“Well friends can hang out too?” Gyuvin points out. “And- OHMY! GUYS!”

“THE CHILDREN!” Junhyeon screams helpfully.

Ricky looks up from where he’s been blowing a raspberry on your neck in retribution for you poking at his sides and shoots them a withering look. You giggle as he plants one last kiss before getting up to mess with Gyuvin.

It’s been an interesting year so far and you can’t wait to see where the rest of it takes you with Ricky on your side.

[sky-kiss]

Jaheira x Named!Tav: Summer

A/n: Yeah, sun's still out. I'm still on my sassy old people bullshit. Tav is a drow warrior named Solaen.

Jaheira x Named!Tav: Summer Lovin' It's Not He's Full of Hate

"Jaheira…" 

It says something that her name should evoke a looming sense of dread. She's 'Jaheira' so rarely—it's Ilharess in mixed company, alurlssrin when the mood is too somber or intimate. She's been Valsharess a handful of times, always breathed into the skin of her throat or the cradle of her thighs. These are positive things. 

Her name? Eh. There's no such assurance. 

Solaen's has turned his nose up so imperiously high it's a wonder he can still see the road. They are deep into a Baldurian summer, and all the sweltering glory it entails, and the drow remains draped in a dark cloak, hood pulled low.  He cuts a theatrical image, she’ll grant him that much. 

"Jaheira," he says again, and she almost laughs, struck by the sudden impression that he is some great sulking feline. "All the cities in the Realms you might have called home…and you picked this hovel." 

 She snorts. "The Gate has its own…esoteric charm, I grant you. What has rubbed you wrong?" 

"The stagnant air? The stink of rotting fish and excrement?" 

"Eh, you get used to these things." 

"A fresh horror to anticipate. How grand." He drags a hand through his hair, now damp. There's a savage part of her that delights in seeing him like this: a touch less ethereal, his elegant features more approachable when he's dripping sweat and clearly morose. Centuries in the Underdark had ill-prepared him for the heat of surface summer, let alone the Gate's humidity. The air felt thick this time of year—and it will get worse long before it gets better. Her warrior grumbles, all the warning she gets before he's stepped into her—this damp, miserable beast. "I should steal you away—back to the Underdark." 

"Hah! Do you think you could manage that?" 

"Perhaps in the evening," he says, a touch archly. "After your damned sun has set."

"Perhaps then," she agrees. Jaheira reaches up, adjusting the cloak's hood. One of the Harper's under her command, another drow, had suggested a more straightforward solution: avoid traversing the city around midday and go out only once the sun began to set. He never listens—too proud, alas. She feathers the tips of her fingers over his eyelids, channeling the barest hint of magic into the touch—enough to cool and soothe. "But you may incur Rion's ire…a dangerous ask—far too much trouble for one old woman." 

"You sell yourself short, Crow." He sighs, shifting her right hand to rest at the curve of his neck and shoulder. The temperature is mild by most standards, but you'd never guess it—his skin is sweat-slick and tacky. Jaheira rolls her eyes, channeling more magic into her touch. The corner of his lips ticks up in a grateful smirk. "Very well—if I cannot spirit you away…I shall suffer your summers. And your city."

"The sacrifices we make for the one we love." It has the cadence of a joke, lilting a little on that last word. But there's a weight to it, an admission. She does see the sacrifice. 

"Happily paid." He brings a hand up, shielding his eyes. "Almost happily."  

Jaheira snickers, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Come. Let us see if we can't find you a shadow to sulk in, old man."

[ultralightpoe]

Pinky Promises - Chapter One

Authors Note: Yeahhhhh baby. Chapter one is out.

Word Count: 8,316 Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

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Song of the Chapter : Hungry Like The Wolf

September 17th, 1983 - Saturday

“When I marry rich the first thing I’m doing is buying Eddie better taste in music.” Cece Miller mutters angrily whilst following her best friend through an over packed house 30 minutes outside of Hawkins, keeping a freshly manicured hand wrapped around the blondes wrist to keep her close as both their feet stumble across the floors. Via’s heavy boots thud against the linoleum of the kitchen while Cece’s heels click. The complete opposites. 

When Via stumbles under the harsh new light of the kitchen her hand pulls Cece who stumbles as well, the former trying not to laugh when Cece’s face smushed into her back quickly with a disgruntled gasp. 

“Slow down, Via.” She grounds out, her nails digging into the flesh of Via’s arm which makes her gasp out in pain. 

“Easy on the flesh, I’m going as slow as I can. Unless you want to be stuck between a bunch of people grinding?” She teases, reaching her free hand behind her to release some of the tension of Cece’s hold. Both of them back up with a simple step as a random jock in a letterman jacket dashes past to the bathrooms. “And so the mighty are already falling.”

“Jesus.” Cece grimaces as they both watch him shove past others. “I can never tell if I love these types of parties or hate them.”

“A bit of both as I’ve come to realize. You know, from all my years attending them.” A shit eating grin spreads across her face as she turns to look at her friend, biting back a laugh when the brunette merely rolls her eyes as she smooths out her hair. 

“How could I forget? Show me your partying ways ‘oh wise one’.” She mocks a little bow as she says it. The both of them already knew that their only experience of parties came from this past summer and this school year, and even then it’s whenever they can trick their parents. 

“Well we’ve already had a couple drinks-”

“Whoope.”

“And Eddie is still playing this trash metal music-”

“Are you shocked?”

“So another round of drinks and then we go on a hunt for the damn speakers and switch out the music for something worth a damn.” Via offers, wiggling her eyebrows as Cece cracks out into a fit of laughter. 

“Mission accepted. Let’s get moving.” With that she takes the lead, Via having to grab onto her wrist to stay connected as they once again make their way through the hectic floor. Bumping shoulders with partygoer after partygoer. 

Cecelia Miller was a force of nature in settings like this. She was one of the few girls that knew how beautiful she was and flaunted it well. She wore short skirts, that had once been longer skirts her mother thrifted but the girl had a knack of turning anything into her fashion. 10 minutes on a sewing machine and she was wearing the type of clothes that could have been in one of those lame fashion magazines Via had seen her obsess over day after day. 

It was a shame her fashion sense and beauty had earned her the label of ‘School Slut’ at Hawkins when anyone that knew the girl knew she was a virgin. But that didn’t matter to any of the assholes at school, they didn’t truly care about anyone else but themselves. 

Tonight she wore a skintight black skirt that had once been a pair of pleather pants, and a pink off the shoulder top that had once been a long sleeve floral shirt that Cece’s grandmother would wear to their church. 

Via’s own outfit had been one of Cece’s creations. A tight purple and black checkered dress hemmed from one of her sister's old ankle length skirts with a pair of pantyhose and an overly large gray blazer. When Via had thrown the blazer on she felt the same nervous bubbling she used to get whenever she tried on Nana's homemade dresses. 

Cece’s face always held the same amount of excitement her Nana’s once held whenever she looked at her creations. It always made something churn in her gut as she remembered the worn lines of her Nana’s face and the happiness laid in her eyes. But that was gone. Her Nana was gone. 

And Harrington had laughed. 

But she couldn’t think about that memory right now, not when her friend had led them both to the kitchens and had snatched two cups. As she inspected the insides of the cups to make sure they are clean, Via moves to find the last unopened bottle of vodka and turns to pour them out. 

Her father once said something about ‘yin and yang’ the first time Cece had spent the night at the old house. He laughed about how well they worked with each other, smooth and unbreakable. Working in tandem as they did the dishes or homework. Each others exact opposites and still never missing a beat. 

That carried to this day, and Via truly had no clue what she would do without her friend. 

“Do you want coke or lemonade?” Cece asks, still holding both the cups as she looks over to where the chasers were. 

“The cap to the coke is lost. Better safe than sorry.” Via hums out and grabs the lemonade to pour into the cups while Cece keeps an eye around them. Once both of them are filled enough the lemonade is set half haphazardly on the table again and Cece passes a cup to Vias outstretched hand easily, scoffing a bit when the bleach blonde tries drinking before cheers. “Sorry sorry.”

“Cheers to us, bitch.” Cece giggles, wiggling side to side in excitement before she gestures for Via to cheers her back. 

“Cheers to…” Surviving another year at Hawkins, not killing anyone and passing grades. “Being here?”

“Terrible toast. You’re never speaking at my wedding.” 

“You mean when you marry a rich man?” 

“Don’t laugh. I’ll buy you all the nice art supplies you want when I’m making the money.” She huffs once more, glaring at the boy that tries to come up and talk to them with his shirt off.  “A little busy here? Find someone else to bother.” 

He grumbles something under his breath before storming off and she merely rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Everyone here is disgusting.” 

“How shocking that you think people are disgusting.” Via mocks, giggling at her friends' annoyed expression before they tap their cups together and pinch their noses to chug the drinks quickly. 

They move to pour one last round before they abandon the kitchen and stagger their way across the floor in search for where the music was being played from. Their hands stay entwined tight, always keeping close no matter what. It was one of the rules they made at the first party they had ever been to after a risky interaction with one of the freaks Eddie had invited from that bar he always went to. 

Now, no matter what party they went to, one of them had to keep their hands on the other. Like the buddy system in kindergarten. 

“Okay so get into Eddie’s mindset.” Cece giggles, leading them into a hallway that has a little room to loiter. “I’m some sort of evil genius that throws random ragers which are just ruses to torture a crowd with my shit music. Where do I hide the radio?”

“Up his ass probably.” Via laughs, fanning her hand out to cool herself down a bit. Sweat began to cling to the back of her neck. “Do you have a hair tie?”

“Shhhhh I am thinking.” Cece snaps, putting her hand up to the blonde's face as she looks around. 

“Or we can follow a chord from one of the speakers?” Via offers, snatching her friend's hand and stealing a hair tie from the slender wrist and putting her hair up while the other girls gasps in excitement. 

“You are a genius. And not the evil kind like your cousin.” She exclaims before moving to find a speaker and before they know it they are following the chord to the radio and hijacking it to a different station. The crowd is a mix of boos and excited chants as dancing begins downstairs. 

 They escape the scene of the crime, giggling the entire time, especially when Via trips on the bottom step of the staircase leading back down to the living room area where most of the dancing was beginning. 

Hungry Like The Wolf begins blasting through the speakers and Cece yells in excitement, dragging Via the last couple steps towards the dance floor and throwing them both in without a second thought. 

1 song turned to 3 more. Which turned to 5 more songs and by the time Via managed to drag Cece away from the crowd and out the door, the sweat that had covered most of her skin sent chills down her spine as it soaks up the cold night air. 

Cece leans against the railing close to the door, leaning back and fixing her hair so the air can hit her face a little better while Via staggers to the opposite railing with her eyes closed as every muscle in her body relaxes, wrapping the oversized blazer around herself to preserve some warmth. 

“It’s not warm looking cool is it?” A voice from below the porch snaps her out of the calm daze, scaring her a bit before she blinks away the blurriness and finds her cousin sitting in the grass of the lawn smiling from ear to ear. “You the little shit that switched my music?”

The scent of caramel and sweat fill Via’s senses as Cece joins her side with an overdramatic huff. “The music you were playing sucked. So you can’t pull your better than thou attitude with us.”

“Hello, Cecelia.” Eddie grins, leaning against the wall of the house as he stares up at her. “You both would be a lot warmer if you dressed like me, you see I have a leather jacket and a flannel because unlike you I-”

“Look like a dweeb?” Cece scoffs, using her fingers to swiper under her eyes in an attempt to clean the makeup that had pooled there. 

 There is a slam of a car door not far off that pulls Via’s attention as the two around her continue their small argument, but the people getting out of the car have fully grabbed all of her attention. The three boys in the Hawkins jerseys all shoving each other drunkenly and laughing like maniacs as they stagger across the lawn to get to the front door. 

Via watches for a moment, waiting to see if another figure would emerge, one that she knew like the back of her hand. When he doesn’t she takes a deep breath in and turns back to where her cousin was still sitting and hauls herself up onto the railing to throw her body over. The only problem was she had a little too much to drink so it’s not as smooth as she would like it to be and she ends up just falling forward. 

Cece gasps out and it’s like a slow motion horror story as Via watches the ground come at her quickly, or well maybe she was coming at the ground too quickly but who's to say? Before she can really crash her cousin is there, laughing as he takes most of the hit and they both sprawl across the dirt and grass. 

It takes her a moment to catch her breath since the fall knocked the wind out of her lungs, and by the time she finally does she has to pick herself up off the ground to spot Cece climbing through the rails rather than over them. 

Eddie groans in pain as he dashes to help her before the jocks hit the porch, all three of them ducking down so the clowns in jock jackets don’t see them. 

“Is there a reason you are hiding in the bushes?” Via taunts, still a little out of breath from her fall and her back shooting with pain. 

“Party got a little boring.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall again as his hand pats down his jacket before he pulls a sandwich baggie with a joint and a lighter tossed into it. “Needed a break.”

“You fell down here after leaning on the railing.” Via guesses which makes her cousin lean to punch her shoulder harshly. She grunts in pain once more before slapping his arm back and before he can hit back Cece leans to snatch the joint from him while he is distracted. 

“Of course. You two follow me out here just to team up on me as usual. This will not stand, you hear me?” Eddie rants, shaking his head. “I’m putting my foot down, Cecelia.”

“Don’t say my name like that, Edward.” She snaps, lighting the rolled up joint and taking in a deep inhale before passing it to Via. Eddie whines in the background as Via follows her friend's lead before handing it to Eddie finally. 

“Do you ladies like…. My humble abode?” He squints, gesturing to the big house behind him before smoking as well, watching both of the girls look at the house fully now. 

 “How do you even find these houses?” Via questions, closing her eyes and laying down as the dizziness threatens to consume her.  

Eddie had made a habit of throwing parties in houses for sell, empty and out of town bounds. An idea Cece gave him the last time Hopper caught him with weed, he had gotten into a lot of trouble and she was upset. So now the parties are in houses where Hopper couldn’t find them, and Eddie could sell to people from other towns.

“Oh it’s so easy. I simply read a newspaper and look for open houses then I go to the open house and look up what time they close and once I’m sure they are closed up for the night I break in - which isn’t a crime if I don’t get caught so do not make that face at me Cecelia-”

“Hate when you call me that Edward.” She grunts. 

“-And then I call a random number to a different school from a telephone that cannot be traced-”

“A payphone.” 

“Olivia, please I am trying to lay out my master scheme here. Anyways I call from a phone that cannot be traced to a random student from different schools and tell them the address for the night so I can never be tracked. It’s so simple.”

“I think you need help, Edward.” Via hisses, sitting up to flick his nose before Cece lays down to put her head in Via’s lap and close her eyes. They sit in silence for a moment, just taking a deep breath in as the party is still loud and booming within the house. Hungry Like The Wolf begins to play through the speakers again.  

“I hate you guys for changing the music.” Eddie groans. 

“This party blew before we did that so lose the tone Edward.” Cece mumbles with her eyes still closed. 

“How are things going with you two? It’s been forever since I have seen you both.” He is quick to change the subject. 

“We saw you yesterday.” Via reminds him, leaning back on her palms to relax as he relights his joint and Cece hums out while still using her friend as a pillow. No matter how many parties they went to somehow they always ended up sitting alone and gossiping about the dumbest things possible. Did that make them lame?

Via didn’t think so but Steven Harrington would probably disagree. Just the thought of his stupid face has her clenching her jaw and imagining ways to hit him with a car. But the thoughts betray her, just as they always do. It goes from hitting him with a car to remembering his face that night. 

When she had heard the news about Nana, when she panicked and ran to the one person she thought would make her feel better. But she should have known better, she should have known that he wasn’t who she thought he always was. 

Eddie had warned her long before that and her freshman year had proven as much. But she was still a fool, and she was upset and he had been so drunk . 

The glassiness of his eyes made her stomach sink, the wet of the grass digging into her socks as she tries to process her next words. 

“My Nana is gone…” She sobs, and he only blinks. 

“Are you crying?” He slurs and she can’t tell if he can hear her or not. When she does go to respond she is interrupted by the sound of Tommy Hagan cackling behind Steve. 

He turns to stare at Tommy and Ollie watches in slow time as his chest begins to rise and fall with… laughter. Steve was laughing. At her. 

“Via? Helloooo?” Eddie calls, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Sorry? What?” She balks, trying to act calm as both of her friends peer at her as if she were crazy. 

“We thought you were like…. Dying or something. We have been trying to get your attention for hours.” Cece huffs, tears in her eyes. “Don’t die.”

“Okay, don’t get too dramatic Cecelia.” Eddie huffs, though his face still holds a small but of panic. “She is right though. You went pale and just zoned out for a minute.”

“Sorry. Got caught in my head.” Via answers, tension coiling in her chest as they both watch her with fear. When neither of them seemed to relax she lets out a fake laugh, doing her very best to make them believe it. “I’m fine mom and dad. Take a breath.”

“Fine. Just tell me if I need to go grab water.” Eddie huffs, finally sitting back which makes Cece relax as well, though she doesn’t lay her head back in her friends lap and rather sits against the wood hold of the porch with a skeptical look. One Via notes immediately. 

“What were we talking about before I zoned out?”

“We were just catching up.” Eddie mumbles and Via doesn’t miss the way he smears out the rest of the joint, throwing it back in the bag and shoving it in his jacket with shaky hands. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good.” Steve’s laughing face is still deeply engraved in the center of her thoughts but that’s where he stayed whether she liked it or not. 

“I was telling Eds about my essay, the one you helped me with? I got an A on it.” Cece mutters, reaching up to smooth out her hair. “Who knew Cleopatra was so interesting?”

“I did…. And Wiley. He gave me the books for the research, you know?” Via smiles as both their faces melt at the mention of her little brother. 

“Oh I love Wiley!” Cece blurts, her voice filled with the same tone in which you talk to a tiny kitten. “He’s just so sweet!”

“I don’t understand how Wiley doesn’t have friends!” Eddie snaps aggressively, his face pinched up in annoyance. “That kid is so metal. He rocks and I’ll pummel those kids that made fun of him. I promise you that.”

“That’s a crime, Eds.” Cece reminds. 

“Only if you get caught.” He snaps back. “I seriously don’t know what that Wheeler kids problem is.”

“We don’t know it was Wheeler.” Via rushes out, palms outstretched in an attempt to get them both to calm down like they were wild animals.  “But the stutter has gotten better around the house. I have no clue what he sounds like at school.”

It was a partial truth. Wiley had developed a really bad stutter due to some bullying at school and over the years he started to avoid talking all together. His stutter had gotten better around their family lately but that was due to the fact that he avoided talking any chance he could. No matter how much their dad pried for conversation. 

“We should dress up as middle school boys and sneak in to see.”

“Hate to break it to you Cecelia but you have a very large pair of knockers.”

“EDWARD!” She snaps, sitting up to slap his forehead quickly which makes him gasp out in fake shock. 

“That was so rude Cecelia. You truly just hurt my feelings.” He whines, and she rolls her eyes when he smiles at her. 

“Grow up, Munson.”

“You first, Miller.”

“Get a room, Mutts.” Via scoffs, moving to stand on shaky legs. 

“Get a life, Ollie.” Eddie scoffs back, eyes widening when Via picks up a tiny rock to throw at him, and within seconds he’s scrambling to run away as both girls move to attack him. 

- 

20 minutes later Via stands before the side of the house, two cans of spray paint within her hands as she sticks out her tongue from the corner of her mouth in an attempt to better concentrate. Steve used to say it was ‘frog mentality’ and that she would pass all her classes if she kept doing it. But that was back when Steve wasn’t the devil incarnate. 

Cece and Eddie lean against the tree facing the house, both watching my work and critiquing it any chance they get to bother her. 

“I would like to remind the group one more time that I am still working on the project. And you shouldn’t judge it until it’s done.” Via snaps out, tossing the red spray paint into the duffel bag and snatching up a different color, shaking it quickly as Eddie tilts his head to admire the work. 

“It looks uneven.” He smirks and Cece gasps dramatically. “Eds I was literally about to say that.”

“I hate you both.” Via mumbles under her breath which makes them laugh as she continues on. They begin talking amongst themselves, Cece reminding Eddie about homework to which he argues that he did it and they begin a whisper debate, and at some point Via begins to zone them out and focus on the project at hand. Their words fade out, and the colors become the only thing that matters. They blend together and soon enough a face comes into view, the brick all turning into a portrait of despair. 

By the time she steps back all she can do is blink at the creation, smiling from ear to ear as her cousin whistles slowly and walks up to where she stands. “Is that Marilyn Monroe?”

“Oh my god Eddie. It is obviously Marilyn Monroe.” Cece sighs, coming up to huddle next to them both for warmth as each of them fight off shivers. “I cannot believe you did that with spray paint.”

“Is she crying or smiling?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to further admire the portrait. 

“Both? I don’t know. I kind of just let the paint take control.” Via admits, face heating as both of them immediately groan out. 

“I’m Via and I speak to the paint.” Eddie mocks, pretending to flip his hair over his shoulder before his face goes dead serious. “You’re not….huffing the paint are you?”

“Shut up Edward!” Cece snaps which makes Via smile, laughing a bit until the defense turns against her. “She only does that every now and then. She mostly huffs the bleach for her hair.”

“YOU do my hair!” Via groans, shoving Cece away as she packs up the duffel of spray paint and snatches the polaroid camera from the bag before stepping back and taking a picture of her latest mural. 

The second the picture is formed she can do nothing but smile at it. 

“Alright, go pose.” Cece giggles, snatching the camera and shoving Via in the direction of the mural. The blonde doesn’t argue, and immediately dashes to pose in front of the brick wall with a wide smile, both her middle fingers pointed to the camera as Cece takes the picture. 

She shakes the picture with excitement as Eddie shuffles closer to see it. Once it’s developed they both show their excitement, Eddie with a ‘hell yeah’ and Cece with a loud squeal. 

“You look so good!” The brunette laughs.

“Badass.” Eddie confirms and Via snatches the photo to look at it herself. 

Sometimes seeing her reflection or photo these days still kind of shocked her, like a stranger she had never had the chance to properly meet. 

After Nana had passed she had gone through many changes. 

It had started the day she chopped her long hair down to her collarbone, sobbing violently until she rushed to Cece’s house before her parents could see it. Cece’s mother had evened out the chop and helped the girls bleach her hair, since she was a hair stylist. 

The pink came from a night at Cece’s house while her mom slept over at her nasty boyfriend's place. Cece had been upset and Via had of course rushed over, they read in one of her lame magazines that color in the hair was the new thing so they started with Via. But by the time the pink had been dyed Cece lost her nerve and had never added any blue to her own. 

This led to a fight, one of their biggest, and they went a whole 20 minutes of not talking to each other. It was intense. (Eddie says they are both too codependent. They both tell him to shove it)

Gone were the days of the handmade dresses her Nana used to spend hours making, gone were the days of being bullied over them. Not that Via ever hated the dresses, they were all gifts from her Nana, but she liked that she could grow into her style some more. There were still a couple dresses kept safe in the back of her closet though. Kept safe and hidden. 

Cece had taught her makeup…. Well she tried to teach her makeup but the two had very different thoughts on how makeup should look. Cece went for a glam look, foundation and glitter. Via went for a…. She liked eyeliner. 

And Via loved her new look, she loved everything about it. She just wishes she had more time to grow into it rather than changing it in one summer. 

But it was time things moved forward. Freshman year from hell had proved as much. Harrington and his friends had made it dreadful. And her one best friend….. 

“Okay, we need to get out of here before the cops show up. That party is only getting louder.” Eddie reminds. He makes sure everything is picked up and gives them both one more protective look. “I’m gonna go find my sophomores. You two good to get home?”

“Tell Gareth and Jeff I say hello.” Cece smiles, fluttering her eyes which makes Eddie roll his eyes once more. Everyone knew both of them had huge crushes on her, the kind that left them speechless whenever she was near. 

“I already told you not to bully my youth, Cecelia.”

“Blah blah blah.” She snaps, leaning to kiss his cheek before moving to walk away leaving Via behind for a moment. 

“You okay?” He blurts after a moment, both of them watching Cece walk across the lawn in her heels, yelling in disgust when they keep sinking in the mud. 

“Oh my god I’m fine. It was just a zoned out moment.  I’ll drive her home and walk.” she sighs in aggravation, twisting the bracelet on her arm nervously. “You can even come knock on our door when you get home to make sure I made it.”

“I meant about the day.” Eddie mumbles, finally turning to her with that knowing look that normally sets her on edge. “I know how…..close you were .”

“I’m fine. It’s just a day.” She laughs, not enjoying the queasy feeling coiling in her stomach or the way her palms seem to itch with sweat. Memories lunging for her, all around that stupid boy with the stupid smile. “Are you okay to get home?”

Best way to handle Eddie is to change the subject to himself, it’s something she had  learned pretty quickly. He gets as defensive about being okay as she does. Fight fire with fire. 

“How about you call the trailer later and make sure I am alive?” He teases, punching her shoulder. Situation diffused. 

“COME ON!” Cece calls, finally having made it to her car. “I WANT DONUTS!”

“CAN YOU YELL ANY LOUDER?!” Eddie calls back, flipping her the bird before turning back to the house. “Go get the princess her donuts. I gotta find the boys.”

“Bye Edward.” She mumbles back, using his full name to piss him off. 

“Bye Ollie.” He mutters back in the same tone and the grunt of shock that passes his lips when she punches his shoulders makes her smile. “Fine. Via.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

- 

September 17th, 1975

“I officially hate 2nd grade.” Ollie mutters, trying to pull away from her mom as the older blonde fixes the pigtails she had sent her daughter to school in. 

“I just don’t understand how a crayon melted in your hair Ollie.” She grunts, frustration flashing in her eyes as she picks the comb up from the table to once again try tugging some of the wax out. “Stevie? Did you see her?” “No.” He lies, watching from his spot at the kitchen table with his legs swinging back and forth. “She was on her own for this one.”

That part was true at least. 

“Why would you do this Olivia?” Charlotte groans right as Flip comes down the stairs.

“What did Olivia do?”

“Dad! Mom is pulling my hair!” Ollie snitches which makes Steve snort in amusement until she sends a glare his way, promptly shutting him up. 

“Don’t pull my baby's hair.” Her father mumbles, coming up to kiss his wife’s cheek before he stops short. “Olivia Diane Fraser. What the hell did you do?”

Steve sits up straight, eyes widening as he begins to panic. His friend was in deep trouble if her dad was using her full name. There is an urge to defend her, to tell her parents that it wasn’t her fault even if he knew it was. And apart of him knew her dad would never raise a hand to her, but there was still that fear, deep in his stomach that made him want to throw up. 

“I was making Stevie a gift!” She yells back, her face going red with frustration. “It’s his birthday!” 

“Oh you don’t say.” Charlotte laughs, turning to give Steve a wide smile. “Have I said Happy birthday yet Stevie?”

“This morning.” Steve nods, watching Ollie stick her head in the sink to try and get the crayon out again. “You want to see what Ollie made me?” 

“Sure.” Flip sighs, dragging his eyes away from his daughter to see Steve hold out a piece of construction paper with melted crayons all over them. He blinks for a moment as Steve smiles like it’s the best art he’s ever seen. 

Flip however cannot figure out what it is. He just stares, hoping if he blinks enough the image will come to him. 

“It’s flowers!” Steve supplies. “See the wax of the green crayon is the stem and then she was making red and pink flowers with the other crayons and-“ 

“How the hell were you meltin these?” Flip laughs, turning back to his daughter. 

“The sun….. and by pressing them into a lightbulb from a lamp.” Ollie explains, somehow managing to escape her mothers hold and dashing to where Steve sits. “Do you really like it?” 

“It’s the coolest thing ever. I’m keeping it.” He smiles, pulling it closer to him. 

“Alright. We’ll worry about Ollie’s hair later. For right now the big question is upon us.” Flip laughs, sitting at the table and turning to Steve. “What does the birthday boy want for dinner?” 

- 

September 17th, 1983 Saturday 

The mini mart that sat right on the edge of town was probably the worst place to be so late in the night, and this only became apparent to Via when she walked in to find it empty. 

Well, not empty. The lights were on and the radio by the register was playing music but there wasn’t another human in sight. It had an unsettling feel to it and for a second she is glad she had the mind to lock the doors to Cece’s car since the other girl was passed out in the backseat with a ‘car blanket’ strewn over her. Via wouldn’t have even stopped for the donuts if she didn’t want a snack herself. 

The weed and the liquor both claimed hunger in her stomach. 

So, even though it gave her a bad feeling, Via smiled as she used the emptiness of the mini mart to her advantage. Unzipping her purse as she passed through the aisles and shoved some things in it quickly. A small bottle of liquor, a pack of donuts, band-aids, chocolate, matches. 

She is debating if she should shove some gum in when the bell of the door sounds out and her attention drags to it, only to find the one person she never wanted to talk to again. 

Steve Harrington blinks in shock, eyes wide as he looks torn between holding his ground or running away, his hand still on the door. His mouth opens and shuts a couple times before he clears his throat which snaps her back to attention. 

She turns quickly, willing her spine to relax as she lamely stares at the gum choices before her, blinking and waiting. 

Finally after a moment the door finally shuts completely and she lets out a breath, hoping that meant he left. She wasn’t so lucky because a moment later his footsteps can be heard as he passes her until he is an aisle away and looking at the selection of chips they had. 

The only problem was the aisles barely reached their shoulders so they could still see each other. She was just fine ignoring him, but it seemed he would not let this moment pass. 

“Is anyone working?”

“Do I look like I work here, Harrington?” She snarks, snatching up a pack of gum and moving to leave before she realizes that he would probably snitch which meant she would have to pay. Shit. 

Turning to make it look like she wasn’t about to leave she waltzes to the counter and rings the bell, ignoring the feeling of his eyes on her back. 

“Did you walk here? Or is that your car out there?” He asks again, and though she can’t see him she can hear him moving to another aisle to grab what he needed. 

“It’s not my car.” 

“So you walked? I can give you a ride to-”

“It’s my friends. I’m fine.” The answer is more of a disgruntled sigh, one that she wishes held more of a bite. She wishes she knew what would hurt him just as he hurt her, wanting nothing more than to make him bleed the very same way he made her bleed. “Besides. Mormon girls aren’t supposed to be with guys without an escort.”

His grunt of shock makes a small amount of pride bloom in her chest as she hits the bell again, a couple times to see if anyone would bother to hear her. 

“How’s Wiley? Haven’t seen that kid in ag-”

“HELLO?!” She calls, frustration claiming her as he walks a little closer now, hands filled with items. She takes one moment to see what he’s got. Packs of pudding, a bag of chips, and a slim jim. 

“Dinner.” He answers at her look, shrugging a bit. “Fancy isn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer, shaking her head as she turns back to the counter. She would not admit to remembering what day it was, she would never admit anything to him. 

Reaching for the bell once more before she is cut short by the lights in the mini mart flickering before going out for a moment, then when the lights come back on Via finds herself blinking at Steve in shock. 

He blinks back before a thunk is heard from the bathrooms to the left. 

“Has the worker been in the bathroom this whole time?” Steve asks, setting his items down before heading to the door and knocking lightly. 

“Seriously?” Via scoffs. “You’re gonna bother their bathroom break?”

“I… well- What am I supposed to do Ollie?”

“Don’t call me that-” A loud thunk from the back of the store catches their attention before a couple cans of coke fall off one of the shelves. 

“Nope.” Via grunts, snatching her gum and moving to the door. “I am not dying here.”

Steve is quick to follow her lead, only stopping to grab a box of matches before dashing out the door. 

She, like a fool, waits for him to escape before shutting the door behind him and moving to dash to the safety of Cece’s car before he is calling out quickly. “Hey Ollie…via!”

“It’s late. I have to go.” She snaps, rushing to unlock the driver side door. “If my parents find out I’m this close to Hawkins Lab after dark I’m dead.”

“I… I was just going to say I like the….. Hair?” He mumbles, and she risks one look at him, blinking slowly. The nervous look on his face reminded her of the way things used to be, when they dressed up as pirates and detectives. But before she knows it his laughing face is flashing through her memory. 

She doesn’t bother responding, giving him a glare before getting in the car and starting it up, leaving Harrington at that stupid mini mart. 

It’s not long before they reach Cece’s house, and Via helps her friend stagger inside while doing her best not to wake her little sister that shared the room. She helps get her into bed, tucking her in before leaving the pack of donuts on the nightstand and sneaking out the window. 

The walk to her house was filled with memories and anger, her arms wrapped around herself in a lame attempt to keep warm as her boots crunched on the gravel beneath her. For 10 minutes she combed over that entire interaction with Steve, thinking about all the things she could have said. 

She could have told him to shove it, or that she hopes he loses all his hair. There were so many options and when her home came into view she had to stop from kicking herself at all the lame responses she had given. 

Wiley called this house ‘Grimoire’ since he claims it’s the kind of house you would find in an old warlock's grimoire. And looking at it now, under the little light the moon could offer with the forest behind it, there was no better description. It looked… old and depressing. 

The last few years with Nana all their extra money had gone to her chemo and treatments. When she passed they had been a bit…. Panicky to find somewhere new to live. They had no money. 

This house had been a lucky find. Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had helped them fix it up a bit when they began renting it and over the summer they tried to make it their new home. 

It wasn’t. 

Nothing was these days because they were missing someone. 

But Via couldn’t think about that right now, not as she climbed onto the stack of milk cartons she set up to help her climb through her window in the one story home, doing her best to keep quiet so she didn’t wake anyone up. 

It didn’t matter in the end since the second she closes her window the sound of her door creaking fills the air as Wiley comes into view. 

“Hi, Wye.” She greets, smiling softly as she sits on the edge of her bed to unlace her boots. “What are you doing up?”

“C…couldn’t… couldn’t-t sleep.” He shrugs coming a bit closer and sitting at the chair of her desk where all her art supplies were currently strewn about. Her spray painting gear is hidden in Cece’s trunk of course. “W-were y-y-y-you at…”

She watches him take a deep breath in, choosing to focus his attention on one of her drawings to ease himself and not make eye contact so this was less stressful to him. “Were y-you at Stev-ve’s birthday party?”

“No. I was with Eddie and Cece. They say hi and that they love you by the way.” She smiles, throwing her bag on the bed before pulling out the two chocolate bars. “Look what I got you.”

This pulls a smile from his face as he eagerly snatches one from her hand and tears it open. 

“Did you talk to that Sinclair kid?” Via asks, watching him closely, watching as his face falls a bit and his cheeks redden. 

“T-they were t-talking ab-bout a new c-c-c..”

“Comic? They are reading a new comic? You don’t have it?”

“N-no.” He shakes his head. “Goodnight.”

He gets up and walks out without another word, but he does send her a small smile and she hears the sound of his own door shutting soon after before she gets up herself. 

Wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed she heads down the hall and sets the box of matches in the kitchen drawer where her mom complained about being out before she left, and then she goes into the bathroom to switch out the empty box of bandaids with the ones she got tonight, smiling a bit to herself when she shuffles back to her room. 

The panel in the bottom of her tiny closet lifts easily, and she reaches in to hide the bottle of liquor she stole earlier, her hand grazing something familiar as she pulls it out. The broken half of a canvas she had made herself years ago. 

She remembered the day her dad helped her staple it so she could paint it for her friend, the bob ross picture staring right back at her with a painted figure. It was messy and her work was choppy at best. An ugly painting by an untalented freak. 

But it still pulled all the wrong strings to her heart, drawing tears to her eyes. “Happy birthday Steve Harrington.” 

With that she shoves the canvas back in the hole and covers it back up before crawling into bed. 

- 

September 17th, 1975

Steve and Ollie sat together at the table, faces covered in Nana’s famous pudding as they giggled over the wax painting she had made. 

The wax was out of her hair thanks to Nana pouring half a bottle of lotion in it, now she smelled of lavender and lotion which Steve thought hilarious. 

They shared the last helping of Nana’s pudding right now, Ollie letting Steve have most of it since it is his birthday. 

“Thank you for the gift. I can’t wait to hang it up.” He mumbles through a mouthful of pudding. 

“Happy birthday, Stevie.” Ollie giggles. “You’re my best friend ever.”

September 19th, 1983 - Monday

“That damn tagger did it again Lottie!” Flip Fraser huffs, slamming the newspaper against the table as both his kids shuffle around him to get ready for their day. If he looked up at this moment he might have seen his oldest daughter's humored smile or the way his youngest son gives a fake glare at his sister. 

“They did?” Lottie Fraser asks, dashing into the room with her blonde hair flowing behind her. “Show me.”

It was safe to say her parents were both a little too invested in this tagger situation, since ‘the tagger’ first appeared in the paper for tagging the grocery store with a portrait of JFK three months ago. Not Via’s best work but that one was a dare given by Gareth. Ever since they both always waited for the news to reveal more. 

“A house outside of town. Closer to Hawkins Lab.” Her dad grunts, shaking his head in annoyance. “And no one saw a damned thing.”

“Oh my…” Her mother mumbles, sitting at the empty chair of the table as she reads the article with her husband. “It is a nice mural though. I can’t tell if Marilyn is crying or smiling.”

Via snorts as she remembers her conversation with Eddie. This draws her fathers attention as he looks at her with a smile, dropping the paper on the table and moving to stand and finish brushing his wife’s hair. “How was work yesterday, Olli….via. Olivia. I said Olivia and everyone heard it.”

“Work was fine, nothing really to note.” Via had applied to the town's movie theater the second she found out they were hiring, saving up money to help her parents and maybe get herself a car. It had mostly been the former whether they knew it or not, her parents never wanted her to ‘waste her money on them’.  “It was our senior citizen discount night so not much business. Barely had to sweep up popcorn.”

“Good good.” He smiles, leaning to kiss her forehead as she passes to wash her bowl from breakfast. 

“Wye? You ready for today?” 

“Y-yes.” Wiley smiles, cheeks red as his dad watches him. 

It’s silent for a moment before Lottie leans forward to kiss his cheek. “How has it been going with making friends, baby? You talk to anyone?”

Flip begins braiding her hair, as she continues staring at Wiley with such hope in her eyes. 

“Th-they w-were all talking ab-b-b-”

“Deep breaths, bud.” Flip says gently, smiling when Wiley takes a deep breath in before starting again. 

“They were all talking about a n-new comic book.” He goes slow, not that anyone in the room minds. 

“Do you have the book?” Flip asks, watching Wiley shake his head. 

“But it’s f-fine.”

“No bud, you did all your chores this week.” Flip grunts, finishing off Lottie’s hair and grabbing his wallet. Her fathers cheeks redden as he hands Wiley a dollar. “Is this enough?”

Wiley nods, jumping to hug him before running to grab his school stuff. 

The rest of the morning falls into one of a rushed panic as everyone races around to grab everything they need. Her mom kisses her cheek and does her best to smooth out her daughter's hair before dashing to the blue car Nana left behind and nodding for Wiley to get in. 

Her dad hops into the truck and waits patiently for her to hop in before zooming off to drop his daughter off. 

He stops down the street, telling her to have a good day before driving off to let her walk the rest of the way, just as she requested at the beginning of the year. 

She passes the familiar car that Steve and all his friends usually hang out around, noting that today he was by himself before walking past him to go into the building. 

- 

September 17th, 1983 - Saturday 

Steve Harrington didn’t believe in fate, his mother had spent her days pouring wine and complaining about her horoscope. She claimed fate led her to his father and if that was fate then Steve wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. 

But seeing Ollie tonight had to have been fate. There was no other reasoning behind it. What are the chances he would see her on the night of his birthday? It. Was. Fate.

But that hateful, despising look she gave him before leaving? That was gut-wrenching. 

It clung to him on the rest of the way home from his trip. He hadn’t wanted to go to the party in the first place, he would’ve rather wallowed in self pity all night like an idiot. But he knew if he didn’t make an appearance then Tommy would have said something, but by the time Steve’s car pulled up he saw the lights of police cars and figured he would just go home. 

So he stopped on the way home, where he saw her. 

She looked so different, seeing her on the first day of school this year had been a shock to the system already. But that punching feeling he got in his gut every time she made eye contact? That was a mix between guilt and amazement. 

Walking into the empty house, that had just finished getting redone, he throws his keys on the fresh counter before dropping his junk on it and slamming his finger in the answering machine. 

He already knows there wasn’t going to be any messages, not from either of his parents, yet he still feels disappointed when it’s confirmed. So he reaches into the cabinet and pulls out a candle, throwing one of the pudding cups open aggressively and shoving the candle into the cheap pudding. 

“Happy Birthday Stevie.” He whispers, blowing out the candle and eating the pudding before heading up to his room and digging in his closet. There is a box of things he keeps hidden for when his friends come over and dig through his stuff, so they won’t see all the memories he keeps stored away. 

The broken half of a beautifully painted canvas is the first thing that catches his attention, the colors blending in his sight as he grabs the sweater knitted for him and tosses it on quickly. 

The painting had looked so good, he wondered what Ollie’s paintings looked like now. But before he can think about it too much he slams the lid shut and shuts the light off before heading to bed. 

“Happy birthday indeed.” He sighs.

x Next Chapter x

[ninapi]

Glitched

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Premise: Rintarou unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through an online game and he does his best to find this mysterious girl in the real world and keep her for good.

Word Count: 3289

Note: Hello, my beautiful dumplings. Welcome to my Suna miniseries, huhuhu. This will be a short story (4 chapters lol sorry, that’s my definition of short 🙃 sometimes I wonder how people write complete stories under 800 words, I just cant-), while I prepare for my new big series. Some high school drama, no multiple endings or routes just one~ Smooches for all of you.

Warning: Mild spoilers, if you’re up to date with the anime you’ll be just fine.

Chapter 1: Not so bad.

Suna Rintarou was by no means enjoying his second year of high school. Summer weather was definitely not his favorite, always tough on him, but the agony was even worse this year. He was tired, not just physically but mentally, the toll of dealing not only with his own sense of failure but also his teammates who were gravely disappointed of not being able to give their captain the satisfaction of going to the finals and bring victory to their school in his last year on the team.

It hasn’t been long since Inarizaki lost to Karasuno, which meant the practice schedule has increased not only in frequency but also in intensity. Days were very long and every single muscle in Suna’s body hurt. He was really looking forward to the holiday weekend, meaning he would have an extra day to rest.

His classmates were raving about this new online game that had recently come out and was very popular. They had plans to play together during the weekend and advance into one of the heaviest of dungeons before classes resumed, but their plan came to a sudden stop, the twins were being dragged by their mother into a family wedding across the country and they wouldn’t be able to join the team.

The boys were devastated, whining men heard all over the class. They were really counting on the Miya power to beat the hell out of the dungeon boss, help was needed desperately.

¨Hey Suna, I know you said you didn’t like the gameplay you watched the other day but can you please join our team? Without Osamu in our side we are doomed.¨ Suna heaved a deep sigh, collapsing on top of his desk. ¨Am I your last option? Can’t you find someone who really wants to play this? I’m so tired, I was planning on staying in bed all weekend.¨ Osamu pulled him back up, giving him a stern look, ¨Come on, help your mates. I wish I could stay and beat them up but there’s nothing we can do about it, it’s just for this weekend, we’ll be back for the next and continue where you left off.¨ he really didn’t want to do this, but if he didn’t agree to it they wouldn’t shut up until he did, ¨Fine, text me the link. I’ll be there after dinner.¨ the boys were smothering him with hugs and trying to kiss off his face in joy, making him grimace as he shook them all off and went back to sleep on his very comfy desk. The thought of finally resting this weekend turning into nothing but a sad memory.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

The guys added him to a group chat and everything was ready for the first quest. 

His sister tied his hair up at the front in a tiny ponytail so he would look like some of those cute game-streamers she watches, not caring if her brother needed it or not with his hairstyle. He was beyond annoyed with life in general, why do people not leave him alone, even his sister was now conspiring to destroy his peaceful long holiday weekend, ¨Curse those damn twins. It’s all their fault.¨ he was grumbling under his breath while putting his headset on and going in the game to create his character.

¨Alright guys, let’s go level up first, stay in this area and let’s meet up at the bottom of the hill when you reach level 20, then we’ll move in to the forest.¨ they all hummed in acknowledgement, breaking the group. Suna went off to chase some slimes and smaller monsters, hating his life every second of it, the game had a very cute looking art style and it was just not his jam at all. He found it hilarious though that the toughest guys in his class were all hunting cute rabbits and crying over it out loud and in their shared group chat space, so he made sure to screenshot some of those moments, posting them in his account and tagging all his playmates. He had to get something out of this torture, at least he could make fun of them for a while.

His character stopped moving and it turned into a pixel block, ¨Guys, is the game acting up or is it just mine?¨ he could only hear static coming through his headset and some of the guys were posting on the chat that the game kicked them out and they were rebooting their pc, so he just stayed there waiting for the rest to go back in. His character was still a bit glitchy but it was moving now. Then all of the sudden he heard a very loud screech pressed to his left ear, and he was positive that it was not human. ¨Oh my god, sausage! What are you doing to my poor headset? Leave it alone!!¨ saying he was confused was an understatement, all the players in his team were dudes, ¨Ehm, hi?¨ the line went quiet but he wasn’t hearing any more static, just some shuffling on the other side, ¨Who’s this?¨ you were sitting on your chair now, the fluff ball being kicked out of your room for good. ¨Uhm, Rintarou? How about you? Did the guys call you over? I didn’t hear anything about any girl joining our party.¨ Rintarou? What- you were just chatting with your girlfriends when your cat jumped on you and stole your headset, there was no Rintarou in that group, ¨I'm (Y/N). Are you Miyuki’s boyfriend?¨ Miyuki? Was there a Miyuki in his class? It was possible, not like he knows everybody but this was all so confusing, ¨Nope, definitely not that Rintarou. So you are not with the guys either? How did you get into the group? The game didn’t say someone new joined the party.¨ 

You were so confused, you could see your actual party on the screen and on the side chat but you couldn’t hear them talk, just this random guy, ¨Did your game get glitchy too? Maybe that’s how you ended up in my party.¨ he moved his character around, looking for you, but he was completely alone in the area, some of the guys still complaining about the game not letting them in through his phone. ¨Well, I mean yes. It did get glitchy but I can still see my girls playing on my screen, could it be just the audio that got crossed over somehow?¨ it was so weird, none of the girls even noticed your absence, you said you were having some troubles with your headset and so they just continued killing monsters, ¨Yeah, I don’t see you around me either, so I guess it’s just the audio getting messy. Hold on, Imma log out and see if that resets us back to normal.¨ you nodded even if he couldn’t see you. ¨Ugh, what the hell. The logout button is gone. How about you, do you see it?¨ you were checking everywhere in your screen, it was definitely not where it usually is, ¨It’s gone for me too. I bet it’s just still glitchy and will go back to normal in a bit, if it’s fine with you, we could just keep playing like this until the game fixes itself?¨ he was already back to killing slimes, way over level 20 by now and his classmates were still gone, ¨Yeah, fine with me.¨ 

Both of you continued doing your thing in complete silence, so much so that Suna forgot you were still there and started mumbling curses quietly, he was being targeted by larger monsters now and was still on his own, he didn’t know much about this game and he was loosing HP fast, ¨What’s wrong?¨ your soft voice startled him, his ears flushing bright red in embarrassment, ¨Sorry, I forgot you were still there. Just being attacked by inferno wolves, don’t know how to kill them, today is my first day playing this.¨ you chuckled quietly, he was kindda cute, those were very easy to kill lesser monsters, ¨Just jump on them and stomp hard.¨ he did as instructed, killing one instantly, ¨Oh wow that was easy, thanks. Are you like a guild master or something?¨ that made you smile, you were right, he was cute. ¨Nothing of the sort, just been playing this for longer. Let me know if you need more help, I know my fair share of tricks.¨ 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

He was about to just ‘x’ out the game since the logout button was still gone, it was 9:30 and none of the guys were able to log back in, the game refusing to accept them, it was a waste of time, he didn’t even want to play this ridiculous game, the happy tune coming out of it was driving him insane at this point, that was until he heard your quiet giggles, it made him curious. They started soft, he almost thought he’d imagined it, but they grew louder each second and without realizing it, he was smiling, ¨What is it?¨ he wasn’t going to say anything but he just needed to know what was causing the cute fit of giggles on the other side, or he wasn’t going to be able to sleep in peace. ¨You heard that? Oh no, so embarrassing. Sorry, my cat, he is crazy you see. Earlier he was chewing on my headset so I kicked him out, but he got out of the house and got back into my room climbing all the way to the window, he’s like a ninja! And was nuzzling my tummy just now, I’m very ticklish.¨ was it normal for such a story to be this cute? Since when does he find cat ninjas cute? Why does he feel the need to tickle an unknown woman-

¨Was that sausage?¨ he chuckled evilly, wanting to continue the conversation, ¨Oh GOD, you heard that too? This game is like boycotting my life, I’m telling you. But yes, that’s sausage. He’s very heavy and of a brownish tone so he kindda looks like one, that’s why we named him that.¨ it’s not like he was interested in cats, but this was way better than killing blue pixel blobs, ¨It’s kay, I find names like that fun, I really don’t like when people name their pets, I don’t know Steve or something,¨ that caused you to laugh loud and clear, getting stabbed by a monster in the process, which made you just laugh even more, ¨Steve? What? Who would name their cat Steve?¨ you let your character bleed to death and were now hugging one of your pillows while sipping on some juice you had left, getting comfy on your chair. ¨Believe it or not, I’ve seen things, specially since I got in my current school volleyball team, there you see crazy, crazy stuff.¨ so he played volleyball…you’re nowhere near athletic but damn, he sounded like an interesting individual. The night was nothing like what you expected it to be, it was getting better every second.

Time surely flies when you’re actually having fun. He got some fruit jelly out and was chewing on it while speaking, needing some extra sugar to stay awake longer, ¨Are you eating fruit jelly?¨ he sits up right away, making sure his cam was actually off, ¨How do you know? Is this game livestreaming now or-?¨ you wished, ¨Hahaha no, it’s just that they make this sound, you know what I mean? Like when you suck the jelly out? I know I’m weird, I’m so sorry.¨ was he making sucking sounds just now? Why was he blushing? He didn’t know his favorite snack made suggestive sounds, well, that was embarrassing, he didn’t do that on purpose, ¨Ugh, well yeah you got me there, I’m eating fruit jelly. But I don’t think you’re that weird. Just a bit.¨ now you were the one blushing, it was fun talking to him, you've been talking about everything and nothing in particular at the same time for the last couple of hours and it was nearly midnight now. ¨Hey, is your game still glitchy? My chara is like dead now but still let’s me talk to you, I think there’s something really wrong with this game today.¨ his character was sitting down on a daisy field, enjoying his life as much as his owner, no monsters in sight, but the logout button was still not available, ¨Yeah, well I’m not dead, but things look the same, my mates were also complaining because the game kicked them out and didn’t let them back in.¨ he actually lied to his classmates and told them he was going to bed like twenty minutes ago but he just wasn’t capable of telling you how tired he actually was, ¨Hm, yeah I don’t think it’s going to let us sign out tonight, should we leave it open and just go to bed? It’s getting late and even if there’s no school tomorrow we should probably get going.¨ so you were in school too, your voice sounded right about his age but he didn’t know how to ask without sounding like a creepy old man, ¨Yeah I was thinking of going to bed too but sausage wouldn’t let us go.¨ us, huh? you smiled bashfully, playing with the headset cord, ¨Sausage is like that, I think he likes to hear your voice.¨ oh boy, was he smitten, he didn’t know much about you or what you looked like even but he wanted more of this, whatever that was, ¨Well then that means we gotta keep talking so he can hear it some more, maybe then he won’t eat your headset.¨ he could hear your giggles once more, they were creating a hole in his stomach, pretty sure it was eating itself out at your cuteness, he just wanted to continue hearing them, people never laughs at his comments, this was a first you actually thought he was funny, ¨We should. Do you think if we just don’t close the game it would stay like this? I mean like the audio and all…? Maybe we could talk some more tomorrow.¨ were you asking him on a date? That was a date, definitely. ¨Yeah I can do that, anything for sausage’s sake.¨ you were both grinning at the screen like idiots, not wanting to leave, ¨Then, since it’s the weekend how about we come back in the morning? Oh wait no, here in Miyagi the holidays are important, I gotta go to the shrine early, but how about after lunch?¨ he was so tired that even getting up by lunch time seemed like a task, but he would gladly lose sleep for this, ¨Yup, can do. See you tomorrow, sausage girl.¨ both of you left the pc on and went to bed, the smile on both of your faces causing your cheeks to hurt. 

He was cute, you’ve never had so much fun talking with a guy before, it all felt so natural like if you were talking with your best friend, like if you’ve known him since forever. You wondered if asking for his number would be too bold, he was funny and you just wanted to talk to him some more, maybe even meet him one day. Just thinking about it was making you feel giddy, your legs kicking on your bed as you squealed against your pillow, trying your best to quiet down your excitement and not wake your mother up.

Suna was on his bed thinking the very same thing, would it be weird to ask for your number? You were complete strangers, but that’s how people make friends, right? Not weird at all. He rarely had intentions of talking with any girl but talking to you tonight has been the highlight of his year and he wasn’t exaggerating. He didn’t even know he could laugh this much, Suna just couldn’t wait anymore, he was sure he wanted this to continue and with new resolution, he went to sleep, hoping noon would come fast, so he could ask for your number and maybe, hopefully, get to see you even if it was just through his phone, he just needed to put a face to this bubbly feeling inside his chest.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

When he woke up the following morning he noticed his pc was off, this causing him to go into panic mode, what happened? He made sure it would stay on all night-

¨MOOOOM, why is my pc off? Did you touch it?¨ he was pissed, anything but that, not the pc. ¨What? No I didn’t. I think we lost power for a bit earlier, your dad was trying to fix the oven and was messing with the power box.¨ that explains it but it wasn’t less aggravating, would he even be able to go in the game again or would he be kicked out like his mates.

He turned it back on as fast as he could, going in the game, but luck wasn’t on his side, two of his classmates were already in leveling up on his screen. He grabbed his headset and literally screamed on the mic, ¨(Y/N), please tell me you are there.¨ but he could hear very manly snorts on the other side, crushing his heart ¨Who’s (Y/N)? Your girlfriend, Suna?¨ he just couldn’t deal with them right now. He rebooted his pc in hopes of getting the line back up to yours, but when he did, he saw a notification pop up on his screen, ¨We apologize for all the troubles caused last night, as an apology, we’ve sent 100 diamonds and 2 HP refills into your inbox.¨ 

No, this couldn’t be happening. They fixed it overnight. He hadn’t ask you for your number yet, that’s what he was going to do as soon as he heard your beautiful voice.

You were fixing your make up, silly thing to do since he couldn’t even see you, but it was definitely a date. You got your headset on with a bright smile on your face as you saw your screen moving, the game still playing on the background, ¨Morning, Mr. Sausage. Got a nice sleep?¨ your friends were beyond shocked, ¨Mr.Sausage? (Y/N) are you talking to your cat again? I think you need to go out some more.¨ Miyuki? No, no, no, no, why??? Where was he? What happened? You didn’t turn the game off, he should still be there! ¨Yeah…did they fix the game? I can hear you guys just fine now.¨ you were seriously hoping he was just late and would jump in the conversation any second now, ¨Mhm, they gave us some dias, check your inbox. You can buy the sword you wanted with that!¨ Stupid sword, you didn’t want it anymore, not if that meant not being able to talk to him again. ¨Sorry guys, I…I’m login out for the day.¨ without another word you just closed your laptop and collapsed face first onto your bed, life sucked.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

Tuesday couldn’t come faster for Suna, he just ran over to the class next door almost clashing with the wall, ¨ATSUMU! I need your help.¨ the eldest twin glared at him with intensity, couldn’t he see what time was it? Why would someone ask for a favor so early in the morning ? He was barely awake after getting up at four to jog. ¨Tell me later, maybe during lunch break when I can actually listen to you.¨

He threw his bag on the floor and went over to the tired setter, shaking him lightly, ¨Please, only you can help me.¨ what could be this important? He looked over at the middle blocker giving him a dirty angry look, but he was sporting a not so fashionable pair of bags under his eyes, even his skin tone was a bit off, was he not supposed to rest for three days? This made him reconsider his actions, ¨What is it? Stop shaking me, dammit!¨ he sat down on the chair in front of his desk, serious mode on, ¨You have the phone number of the Karasuno setter right?¨ huh? this was definitely not worth the while, he went back to sleep on his desk, ¨Atsumu please! I need you to ask him something, please I’ll beg if you want me to.¨ he’s never seen him this desperate, ¨kay, I think I do, yeah he should be on the group chat. What do you need from him?¨ he was pulling out his phone, ready to rely the message and hopefully go back to sleep, ¨Can you ask him if he knows a girl named (Y/N)¨ a girl? This was unexpectedly interesting. ¨(Y/N) what? Is she from Karasuno?¨ he was punching the message out, waiting on the details, ¨Well I don’t know, all I know is her first name and that she lives in Miyagi, she goes to school there and is possibly around our age.¨ Atsumu couldn’t believe what he was hearing, talk about dumb teammates, ¨You do know Miyagi is a prefecture, right? Not a city. How many schools are there even in Miyagi? Why would Tobio-kun know her? You are being stupid, Suna.¨ he was deleting the message, shaking his head, ¨No, no, please just ask him. I know he probably won’t know her but is my only chance, please. I won’t bother you again if he says he doesn’t know…¨ the setter sighed, sending the ambiguous message out, this was really silly, but he could see how desperate his friend was, and he just wouldn’t let him sleep ever if he didn’t comply. 

To their surprise, Kageyama replied almost immediately, ¨I don’t, but I’ll ask around.¨ Atsumu showed him his screen and the small smile that painted his features left the setter breathless, so he can smile-

¨Thanks, please let me know if he says anything else.¨ he would find you, no matter what.

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf

Masterlist Next Chapter

[cherripieee]

Bloodlust - Eddie Munson x fem!vampire!reader

Part 1 - 'Teeth'

Eddie comes over for your usual movie night and after a night of confessions, Eddie tells you a secret, a dirty fantasy he has about a familiar creature.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts almost ALL SUMMER so i hope you guys enjoy! i had a fun time making this even though my writer's block made me change the format four fucking times-

warnings: reader is a vampire, 2nd person pov for this chapter, blood, biting, mentions of biting kink/fang kink, cursing

The end of another hot summer day is approaching, and you couldn’t be happier. Heat drags on the days with exhaustion and complete boredom, a scorching sun pairs along with the unbearable weather. Luckily, the sun begins to retire for the day and dusk is upon the sky. Not only are you glad that the weather gets cooler at night, but you’re also glad that your movie night with your best friend is happening tonight. Even though your movie nights happen almost every summer night, the two of you hadn’t planned one in almost two weeks. Responsibilities caught up to him and you couldn’t be mad at him for it. So, after a while, the two of you decided to get back on track with your hangouts. 

You’re actually relieved that he decided to go after his responsibilities. During those days, you had things to attend to. Those things included your urges and your hunger. No, not for food. For blood. You hadn’t tasted a drop of blood in months and your senses started to warn you about the consequences of not taking care of yourself. As a vampire, you knew you needed blood. But living in a small town like this made it hard to hunt for prey and get away with it. And no, you couldn’t just devour a helpless rabbit. You needed human blood, no other exceptions. Well, that was how your senses worked. It was either humans, or no food at all. 

So, you did what you had to do. One late night, you were walking around the neighborhood and a whiff of something delicious caught your attention. That scent had led you down the street, and now the cause of that whiff was right in front of you. In an alleyway, a guy has a woman pressed up against a wall. His lips are on her neck, from here you can see the woman tugging at the guy’s hair. Unrelated to the situation, this guy seriously had some great hair. You wanted to walk away and let the couple be, but that whiff got the better of you. You got closer. 

“Mmh, oh, Steve…” 

…Steve? Where have you heard that name before? 

Shaking off your thoughts, you stealthily sneaked behind the guy and peeked over his shoulder. Your back hits the brick wall, and now you’re just staring directly at the couple. Your senses are overwhelming, but you are used to it. Right on time, the woman opens her eyes. They squint at your dark figure for a moment. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Why’d you stop?” Steve asked, his words coming out breathless and raspy. The woman’s face twists into a look of pure horror as your eyes are now a piercing red. This was just step one. 

“It’s getting late…” The woman slowly unravels herself from Steve’s touch, stealing glances at the brick wall from where you’re watching. Your anticipation builds, igniting a feeling of butterflies deep down in your stomach. You can smell his scent and it smells amazing, it smells hot, and you even smell some sort of cologne. That’ll make the taste even better, you thought to yourself. “...I’ll call you!” 

Before the guy could even protest, she’s already off and speed-walking into another direction. You felt bad for interrupting their little interaction, but this guy smelled so damn good. Once you can’t hear the clicks of her heels hitting the ground, you know she’s long gone. You’re staring at Steve’s backside, running your tongue over your teeth. Sure enough, your fangs had come out just by the scent of him. That’s how you knew that this was gonna be good. Or you were just hungry. I mean, you hadn’t had any real food in a few months. 

“Fuck.” Steve mutters under his breath, catching your interest. Shouldn’t he be walking away? As of right now, usually the person would try to walk out until you stopped them and feasted on their blood. But he’s just standing there, looking down. 

No biggie, this just made things even easier for you. 

You carefully walked up to him, not even sure if you were controlling your own body or if it was your senses taking over. With every step, you felt yourself tapping more into your natural instincts. You didn’t care if he screamed, you just wanted a taste. You didn’t care if it got messy, you just NEEDED his skin against your teeth. 

As Steve begins to move, you pounce on him. You grip his shoulders and push him down to his knees, earning a yelp from him. “HEY! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” He screams, but you could care less about his threats. Licking your lips, you press your lips to the curve of his neck and trace your tongue around his skin until you find your favorite spot. Your favorite spot on a person was always the area a few inches below the ear. All vampires had a preference, or some just took whatever you could get. You, however, were a mix of both. He’s trying to fight back, you can tell. He’s wiggling around and screaming at you, and for help. He looked so helpless and that just heightened the feelings of your senses. 

“What the-” Were the last two words you heard as you sunk your fangs down into his skin, flavor bursting on your tongue. Just as you suspected, he tastes good. There’s blood streaming from your mouth and dribbling down to the back of his orange sweatshirt. Fuck, this is exactly what you needed. You gulp down each and every drop you can get, your nails sinking down into his sweater. Your senses had completely taken over and the only thing on your mind was: hunger. Steve’s quieted down, his eyes drooping low, and his energy suddenly drains. Unfortunately, you can’t keep at this for as long as you wanted to. You wanted a meal, but you weren’t a killer. You reluctantly pull away, red liquid drips from your fangs and onto his skin. 

Releasing your grip on him, the poor guy drops down to the floor on his back. He’s not exactly unconscious yet, but he’s getting there. He’s staring up at you with his eyes fluttering closed. You stay there and make sure his eyes are closed before wiping your mouth and heading out of the alleyway. Now, your hunger would be satiated for the next couple of months. 

…wait. WAS THAT STEVE HARRINGTON?! 

And now you’re here, at home setting up the living room for your movie night with your bestie. 

You cleaned up earlier and set up the area, he was going to bring the snacks. Snacks in his terms meant: beer, store bought chocolate chip cookies, a huge tub of vanilla ice cream, and more beer. So basically, you were always the one to have all the goods. 

There’s one large blanket draped over your couch, the one that you and him share on nights like these. He’s a HUGE blanket hog, but you don’t mind it. Even if that means that you have to freeze your ass off to make sure that he feels safe and comfortable in your home. He deserves it, he deserves everything. If it wasn’t clear enough, you were definitely crushing hard on your best friend. As much as you tried to deny it, you simply couldn’t. You’re in love with this man and obsessed with everything he does. Unfortunately, only being best buddies would have to do for now. 

About a half hour later than he was supposed to arrive, the door knocks. This was typical of him, so you weren’t bothered. After taking one last glance around the area and collecting yourself, you rush over to the door. You open it, and there he is. Your best friend, Eddie Munson. 

His head of curls is tied back into a ponytail, his brown doe eyes are soft as he gives you his signature warm smile. It almost makes you wanna sink your teeth into his face because he’s so damn cute…in a good way. 

“Sweetheart.” 

You give him a smile back, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yeah?”

“...I forgot the beer.” 

~

Curled up together, thighs against his thighs and your head rests against his shoulder. You lived for this. Moments like these were the ones you savored because you knew that one day, Eddie would find someone else. He would find someone else to cuddle with and hangout with one day, and it wouldn’t be you. You wanted it to be, but…things don’t work out. Your last boyfriend got a glimpse of your fangs, and he asked you about it, so you came clean…let’s just say that he’s the sole reason why you moved to Hawkins. 

Part of you feels bad for not telling Eddie about your secret, he’s your best friend for God’s sake! But you promised your parents that you would be careful. And if you pissed them off, you’d be sent right back home. Even though you’re a grown adult, your parents had the last say in everything. 

Eddie’s chomping away at the brownies you made him and watching the movie peacefully, his fingertips gently caress your forearm. In that moment, you prayed that his touch didn’t leave a trail of goosebumps. As you thought that, you felt a pleasant shiver roll down your arm. You’re about to excuse yourself to the bathroom to cool off until Eddie sits up. 

He grabs the remote and turns off the tv which stops you from bolting to the bathroom, instead giving him a curious look.

“Didn’t like the movie?” You asked, looking up at him.

Eddie shakes his head, his head of curls whipping him right in the face. You try to hold back your laughter as he brushes it out of his face, and it’s the most awkward yet cutest thing you’ve ever seen. His ringed fingers go through his hair while he gives you that warm smile that he only saves for his closest friends. This guy didn’t know how pretty he actually was.

“Nah, it’s not that.” He replied, setting the tv remote on the table next to the couch the two of you were sitting on. “It’s been a while since we had one of these, I figured we could catch up.”

Your heart melts.

That should be the bare minimum of having a best friend, catching up with each other every second you got and checking up on each other. But you felt so helpless when it came to your feelings for Eddie.

“Alright.” You simply replied. “Let’s catch up.”

Eddie then fills you in on what’s been going on. There’s some girl (you already hate her) and apparently, she stood him up on his date to go and hook up with some guy in an alleyway.

“Who was it?!” You asked.

Eddie chomps on another brownie, giving you a smirk. “Steve Harrington, who else would it be?”

…that’s ironic.

You had caught Steve Harrington making out with some girl in an alleyway the night you attacked him.

Oh.

Your face flushes with embarrassment and you sink down into the couch, hiding your blush with a pillow. Thankfully, Eddie doesn't notice, and he continues talking.

"And weirdly enough, he got attacked by something almost right after." He added.

The fact that the "something" he was talking about was YOU made you feel bad, but you were lowkey happy because you got to hurt someone that hurt Eddie.

"What did he get attacked by?" You asked, acting as clueless as you can.

Eddie shrugged, brushing a few brownie crumbs from his shirt and onto the floor which you'll sweep up later.

"Well, I talked to Steve earlier today when I stopped by Family Video, and he had a bandage on his neck. He told me the last thing he remembered was seeing a pair of red eyes." He explained.

That's what most people usually remember when they get bit by a vampire. It's either a pair of red eyes or a dark figure. If they noticed anything else, you clearly did something wrong. If you aren't careful enough, you could end up getting yourself hurt...or even killed.

You're always careful.

"What do you think attacked him?" You asked, curiously.

Eddie was lost in thought for a moment, his ringed fingers tapping against the arm of the couch. This action made you sit up straight, holding the pillow in your lap.

What was he not telling you?

As his best friend, you knew the signs of when Eddie was hiding something.

His chocolate brown eyes are gazing down at his fingers, sometimes stealing a glance at the black screen of the television.

His other hand is fidgeting with the fabric of a white fluffy pillow, picking at the fur.

"...Eddie?"

The sound of your voice startles him as he looks up, giving you a sheepish look. "Sorry, lost in thought."

Eddie lets out the world's longest and dramatic sigh, his head falling into your lap as he looks up at you. Why did he have to be so damn cute?!

"You're so dramatic." You say, ruffling his hair a bit.

"And you love it." He retorts quickly, flashing you a cheeky grin.

"And I love you, Eddie Munson." is what you want to say, but you can't.

Instead of that, you simply roll your eyes and push him off of you. He lands on the ground with a soft thud, bringing the whole blanket down with him.

"Hey! I bought that blanket, y'know."

Eddie laughs, covering himself with the blanket. He wraps it around his whole body while keeping his eyes on you, that same cheeky grin stays on his face. "Come and get it."

You immediately rush down to the floor, trying to rip the blanket from his grasp. Eddie's surprisingly very strong, despite his lanky form. But your vampire strength gives you an advantage. The bad news is that if you went too hard, let's just say that you would actually rip the blanket.

The two of you play around for a bit, smiling, laughing and teasing each other before laying on the floor in a heap of breathy giggles. Your legs are tangled together, and the blanket is thrown somewhere around the two of you.

The silence is comfortable and content.

The moment was calm and quiet.

"...I think a vampire attacked Steve."

...never mind.

“Vampire?” You said, trying to sound as clueless as possible. 

“Yeah, I mean, what else could it be? Plus, with all the shit we’ve been through, we shouldn’t rule it out too quickly.” Eddie explained. 

You nodded along to his words, even though there was a pit forming in your stomach, filled with nervousness and dread. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the quietness. Hawkins was pretty peaceful at this time of night. You could hear the faint noises of cars passing by, but that was all the noise you could hear. Just as you’re about to close your eyes, you hear something. 

Something out of Eddie’s mouth that makes your eyes go wide. 

“Do ya think that getting bit by a vampire would feel good?” 

…woah. 

You sit up immediately, tilting your head to the side and giving him a confused look. 

“Uh, no? It probably hurts like hell.” 

Another moment of silence forms, and this time you’re not calm. You’re conflicted, confused yet curious all at the same time. Was Eddie into vampires? Everyone in Hawkins knew that Eddie was a freak, liking things that no other person would. But, honestly, having a biting kink was completely fine and normal. 

But having a thing for VAMPIRES? 

…it’s a problem considering the fact that YOU’RE a vampire. 

You snap out of your thoughts, hearing a little rant from Eddie as he makes wild and dramatic gestures with his hands. 

“But that’s the thing, would it hurt so bad that it would feel good? Imagine the mark it would leave afterwards, sweetheart. Did you not see Steve’s bandage? That shit was big.” 

You can only reply by hitting him with a nearby pillow, earning a yelp and a glare from your best friend. 

“Alright, you little masochist, it’s time for you to skedaddle.” 

Usually Eddie would spend the night, but you can’t face him after what he had just said. You didn’t know if you could even control yourself from giving into his desires…and your own. 

Eddie raises his hands in mock defense, getting up and grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the couch. He’s smiling, as if he hadn’t just told you that he wanted a vampire to bite into his skin and leave a mark. 

You walk him to the door, as you always do, with your arms crossed and the chilly Hawkin’s air hits you almost immediately as you step outside. It’s a great way to cool off, especially after tonight. 

Eddie pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you. 

His scent. 

His fucking scent. 

You close your eyes and lean into him, getting a whiff of his smell. This was definitely weird, but you couldn’t help it. Part of you wants to know what he tastes like, what he feels like… 

…but you won’t ever know. 

Clearing your throat, you break away from his embrace and watch him get into his car, giving him one final wave as he drives away in his truck. You can already hear the loud rock music slowly fading away in the distance. 

“...fuck.” 

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/?

× Elysium (noun) : a place or condition of ideal happiness. type of: fictitious place, imaginary place, mythical place.

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist

A Noah Sebastian x OC Series

× Summary: Noah and his new found (sort of) friend, Persephone, battle the trivial ins and outs of being teenagers in a world that doesn't accept you. They survive together all the way into adulthood - with bouts of loneliness included - where the world is still a fickle bitch.

× Warnings!: language, violence, slowburn, friends to lovers to enemies back to friends, rinse and repeat (not even in that order), eventual smut, sexual themes, etc. Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) And there I go again with the too much rambling and making chapters entirely too long. What's the preference when it comes to things like this? ( 2 ) Don't forget that there will be no smut or sexual descriptions while Persephone is still a minor aka anytime before 2016. ( 3 ) Another time jump will be coming up within the next chapter. As I stated before, I'm not trying to dwell too long in the past for them, but my brain always has a way of dragging things out. This may also be the last chapter of Seph as a minor... ◔‿◔

× Chapter Warnings!: language, brief sexual themes

SUMMER OF 2014

FRIDAY AUGUST 1st

NOAH

“Did you guys hear about Persephone?” 

Everyone stared at the dark haired girl - now known as Alexa - after she dropped down into the booth next to Folio, waiting for her to continue. 

“Ya know, after her party last weekend?” 

Christ, if this girl didn't just spit it out. Noah didn't want to hear about Seph, no, but he for some reason felt anxious about whatever was about to be revealed. It already wasn't sitting right with him. 

“Well, her parents apparently came home early because someone cut their security cameras back on to the live setting, and they saw all of it. The people, the alcohol, the huge mess she hadn't been able to get cleaned up yet. It was bad.” 

Alexa was nodding as she spoke, though she was now taking a long pause. They could sense she had more to say, so Noah made a face for her to continue, which she huffed and did. Folio’s new girl was cool and all, but damn did she have a flare for the dramatics. She also had this weird power of knowing everything about everyone. It was a little scary.

“A little birdy told me that Seph then had a masssivveee breakdown. I'm talking a full on freak out. She trashed the place even more, broke some priceless vases her mom had, got blood everywhere because she accidentally cut herself on the glass or some shit. Yeah, it was insane. Something legit right out of a movie.” 

Noah was fighting back the urge to spew his lunch everywhere. His stomach was churning, his insides turning every which way, and there was no end in sight for it. He was avoiding everyone's gaze, instead choosing to stare at a blank spot on the table while processing what Alexa was saying. 

“Who did you hear that from?” Nick spoke up, obviously suspicious of the story. He was the only one who really knew what happened between him, Seph, and Maisie that night, so of course he was going to dig deeper. 

“I shouldn't even be telling anyone this, but my brother was a paramedic at the scene. He said he thinks it was all stress induced, but some people are saying she was on drugs.” 

“No, she didn't do drugs.” Noah shook his head, refusing to believe that rumor. It was clear there was a lot that Seph needed to work on, but he wasn't going to let her name be dragged through the mud over something he knew wasn't true. 

“Drugs, no drugs. Doesn't matter. Her parents sent her away to some facility up state but they're telling people she's spending her senior year studying abroad in Sweden or somewhere posh sounding like that.” 

“That's fucking wild,” Folio sighed while shoving a couple of fries into his mouth. “Pretty bummed I only got to go to one of her parties.”

“Shut up, Folio,” Noah heavily exhaled, his thumb and pointer finger rubbing and digging at his eyes. 

There was a part of him that didn't believe it, or rather didn't want to believe it. But if Alexa's brother was there, then he had to admit that was a pretty reliable source. And after what he saw that night, it was all pretty plausible. 

Fucking hell. 

SPRING TO SUMMER 2015

PERSEPHONE 

Fingertips lightly traced the tiny delicate scars that now scattered across the top and bottom of her hands. There was a point months ago when she was worried about how they would heal, nervous as to whether or not they'd always look red and angry. Thankfully that wasn't the case, for they were small and white, barely noticeable unless you were close enough or already knew they were there. The soles of her feet carried identical scars, all because of the shards of glass she had stupidly walked over. 

“We've still never really talked about why you thought you couldn't seek help or guidance, Persephone.” 

Although she heard the older woman’s question, her eyes remained down on her hands. The same scars she had stared at for days upon days were way more interesting than whatever bullshit she was going to try prying from her today. Only sometimes did she give the woman a bit of information, just to tide her over so she could report to her parents that she was making ‘great progress’. 

“You really want to know?” 

“Well, yes, of course.” 

Slowly nodding, Seph took in a deep breath before dropping her hands into her lap and finally lifting her gaze to the older woman. She held her pen at the ready, fully prepped to scribe down anything of importance she may divulge. 

“I figured there was no point in ever telling people about what was happening inside of me. It was best kept inside, like everything else.” 

“Why did you feel that way?”

Seph shrugged, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive manner. Yep, the woman was right on it with that damned pen too. Of course she was going to take note of her stance. 

“Because people don't want to hear about the difficulties of life coming from someone like me.” 

“Someone like you…what does that mean?”

“You know what it means. You're in my father's pocket, after all.” 

Everyone at this ridiculously irritating place was. The only employee she had become slightly friendly with was a second shift nurse who let her use his phone, but of course for a price. Gross, not like that. He wanted money, just as everyone did. $100 for fifteen minutes. Can you believe that? 

The woman eyed her from across the room. She was waiting for her to continue because obviously her smart ass remark wasn't a sufficient answer. 

“Someone who has the means to do anything and everything. Never a need for anything. Someone who has all of their material wants satisfied. That kind of person.” 

Seph twisted her lips and looked out the wall of windows within the office. God, she couldn't wait to be out of this place. 

“People tend to forget that material items aren't everything, though. At the end of the day, they don't fucking mean anything. I can't talk to a purse. I can't voice my frustrations to a goddamn overpriced car.” 

This made her laugh, the sound of it echoing through the otherwise quiet office. Her therapist didn't seem to find it as funny, but that was okay. She wasn't trying to spit jokes at her anyway. It was all the truth. 

“You don't believe your parents could see that you were struggling? What about your friends?”

Ah, of course the woman was going to try to get all the answers she had been seeking from the beginning. A part of her was starting to think that she didn't really care about how Seph was, she just wanted to know all the gritty and secret details of a man’s family who basically owned her. 

“I didn't have friends, not really. Well…I had one, but he was a new friend. He wasn't ready to learn all of my inner workings.” 

Persephone could tell the woman wanted to dive into this ‘he’, but she wasn't going to give her the opportunity. Noah was not going to become a pawn in her sessions that could be used against her. 

“And my parents were never around, so no, they didn't see a damn thing. It took it literally blowing up in their faces for them to notice.” 

That was enough talking for today. Seph was mentally tired of this gymnastics routine she was forced to partake in multiple times a week, and now all she wanted to do was get the hell out of there. Both the office and the facility as a whole. Though mainly the former right then because it was nearing the time for her to be out a hundred bucks. 

Once she was given the ‘okay’ to call it a day, she couldn't have scurried out fast enough. And like perfect clockwork, Ben was waiting outside of her room, ready to collect. They didn't say anything to each other as he slyly slipped his phone to her, then carried on down the hall until he would circle back fifteen minutes later. 

Seph hid within her bathroom, her body uncomfortably seated within the empty bathtub with the curtain drawn. She didn't know why this is where she felt safest making calls, but it's the one and only place she had done it since her first month there. 

One ring. 

Two rings. 

Three rings.

On the fourth, the call connected and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Pom,” he answered without missing a beat, his smile easily heard in his tone. 

“Hey, peach,” she softly spoke, immediately feeling more like herself as soon as she was in friendly company. 

“Did you make all the doctors happy today?” 

Seph snorted out a laugh, rolling her eyes to herself. “Well, I didn't threaten any of them, if that's what you mean.”

“Ah, so progress! That warms my heart.” 

“I think they're going to let me come home soon. Therapist number two was really digging in. But how's things there?”

“If you want to ask about him, then you can.” 

The smile she wore slowly began to fade, her eyes fixated on a random spot of her sweatpants that she had started picking at. 

“No…I mean…is he okay? I'm not going to come home to him having lost a leg or something, right?” 

Nick laughed, and she just knew he was shaking his head. “I can say with absolute certainty that all of his limbs are still intact. A one legged front man would be pretty badass though, yeah?” 

As much as Seph wanted to get lost in thoughts of Noah, she couldn't bring herself to do so right then. She had to save that for those particularly hard moments while she was locked away. 

“Did you tell her?” 

A female voice in the background broke through, followed by a hushed response from Nick that she couldn't make out. There was some shuffling on the other side, then he was heavily sighing before speaking up again. 

“Shit, Seph, I hate to do this…but I don't want you to come home and be blindsided.” 

“You're really freaking me out right now.” 

“Alexa heard that your dad…yeah! I'm getting to it!” Again Nick huffed, and this whole thing being drawn out was literally going to cause her heart to beat out of her chest. 

“She heard that your dad is trying to press charges against Maisie…for the video of you and Noah. Some shit about child pornography, I don't know. Apparently she sent it to her brother, so that's not only possessing, but also distributing.” 

“What the actual fuck, Nick?!” Seph quickly covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her outburst, which allowed her a moment to take a deep breath and count to ten. 

“No…how? How is he going to do that when nothing happened in the video? It was just us kissing and his shirt coming off. Not mine!” 

“I'm not a lawyer, Seph, I don't know. That's just what Alexa heard, so it could hold zero weight.” 

“Does Noah know?” 

“Yeah…apparently your dad also paid him a visit…fuck, I wasn't supposed to tell you that.” 

More hushed voices rambled off in the background. The main one she could make out was from Alexa still, but a new one had been added that caught her off guard.

“Who the hell are you being so secretive with?” 

His voice came through loud and clear this time, so Seph assumed he had lowered the phone to play it off like he wasn't on it. Not very smart, Nick. Not smart at all. 

“Huh? No one. I was just gonna order a pizza.” 

“Nick, you're a terrible liar. What are you doing?”

Seph sunk down further in the bathtub, a hand holding her forehead in complete disbelief for what was happening. It was the first time she had heard Noah’s voice since she saw him last, and of course it had to be when she was talking to his best friend on the down low. 

“Pom? Who’s Pom?” 

NOAH

There was a brief moment of tug-of-war as he tried to wrestle the phone from Nick. Never had his best friend kept something from him, at least not to his knowledge, but especially not when he had been caught red handed. 

Finally, Nick gave in and released the device, allowing him to turn it around until he could clearly read the name plastered on the screen. 

“Pom? Who's Pom?” His brows furrowed in confusion, though he still lifted the phone up to his ear. There was no sound on the other end, except for the very faint hint of a breath being taken. Then, the line went dead, the call ending from the other side. 

Nick was staring at him with wide eyes and he could already see the explanation just waiting to escape him. 

“Dude…I'm sorry,” he began, hands holding out in a defensive stance. “Pom is Seph…ya know, like pomegranate? Persephone is a goddess who-”

“I know who Persephone is! I understand the reference, Nick!”

“Right, yeah. You know how she would always say 'you're a peach' to me? Well, she just started calling me peach one day and it stuck, so she became Pom and it was just this dumb thing to help her while she's away, and -”

“You've been talking to her this entire time?”

Nick paused, his body relaxing for a brief moment as he thought back to when their first conversation could've been. 

“Not the entire time…probably since last September?” 

Noah was really hoping Nick could feel the fire in his glare, because boy, was it intense. What the hell was he supposed to do with this information? Should he even be mad? It was honestly the fact that Nick kept it from him that really pissed him off. Why would he? Unless…Seph had asked for him to. 

“She doesn't want to talk to me.” It didn't take much for him to put it all together. Seph was complicated as all hell, but she could be predictable at times too. 

“No, she does. She does, okay? She hasn't straight up told me why she won't, but my guess is that she's embarrassed. I don't know! I'm not an expert on teenage girls!” 

“You two are just best friends now or something?” 

Nick heavily exhaled, his arms dropping down to his sides in defeat. A silence settled between them, one that was just long enough for each of them to gather their thoughts. Or, at least try to. 

“Dude…come on.” Nick shook his head slowly at Noah, a look of disbelief beginning to move across his features. “Don't make me seem like an asshole because I was trying to be there for her.”

That's exactly how Noah saw it, though. Although he wouldn't always have this opinion on the matter, it's how he felt currently. He wanted to be the one there for Seph. He wanted to help her through whatever it was she was struggling with. She wouldn't let him be that person, though, and that's what really stung. 

Fuck, why was he letting a girl he had been friends with for a month plague his mind like this? 

“It's whatever, man. I'll just see her when she gets out, I guess.” 

Noah didn't want this to become a huge conflict between him and Nick. As easy as it would've been for him to argue his point right then, it wasn't worth the headache. Nick was his best friend, and had been for years, while Seph was only just a girl he had developed an infatuation with. 

PERSEPHONE 

“I know it's bad timing, dear, but your father and I expected you to be home next week.”

On and on her mother went during the drive home, all while Seph spent the duration staring out the window. Her fingers were itching to get a hold of her phone but the device had yet to be given back to her - of course. Honestly, she would be surprised if her parents let her have it back at all. 

But at least it seemed like the snow queen was over the disastrous ending that was her beloved vases. 

“But, we’ll have a nice dinner as a family tonight, then he and I will be back Sunday evening.” 

Seph wanted to laugh at how ridiculous her mom sounded. When did they ever have nice dinners together? At least one, if not both, of her parents always ended up wandering off to take business calls in the middle of meals, leaving her to eat alone. What was so nice about that? 

“Does that sound like a plan?” 

Forcing a slight smile, she finally looked over to the older woman and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good to me.” 

Although Seph could tell that her mother was trying, she was curious to know how much of it was genuine. They had never had a strong relationship to begin with, but that was expected given how her parents chose to put their careers ahead of their daughter. Seph used to be sad about it, though she stopped caring as much the older she got. Them not being around sure as hell didn't stop them from putting the pressure on whenever possible. 

× × ×

“No, the doctors said her medications may make her…unlike herself for a bit.” The woman spoke in a murmur to her father upon their arrival home, as if Seph couldn't hear them. 

“A bit? She's been on them for nearly a year now. How much time does it take?” 

“However much it does, Chris. I don't know.” Her mother retorted, the annoyance evident in her tone. 

Seph didn't hear much more because she had made it to the top of the staircase, now aiming straight for her bedroom. She just wanted to be alone for the first time in forever. No worries of nurses and doctors barging in, or the occasional fellow patient that tried to make friends with her. 

There was a sudden halt in her steps when she entered her room. It definitely wasn't how she had left it aka in an utter mess. No, it was thoroughly cleaned now. Nothing out of place. Just as it usually was before things began to truly go downhill for her. Shaking her head to herself, Seph pushed her suitcase off to the side to tend to later, her gaze glancing over to her desk. Lying on top were multiple college applications, as well as letters from others she had applied to before leaving. Columbia, Brown, Dartmouth - ‘her’ top choices. Not really. Those were actually choices that belonged to her parents. 

With furrowed brows, Seph carefully shifted the papers around. Her lips moved as she quietly skimmed over the gist of each letter, her anger bubbling with every word. All the letters claimed acceptance for this year’s fall semester. 

“What the fuck?” She muttered to herself just before she abruptly pulled her hand from the pages. She couldn't handle this right now. The last thing she wanted to think about was what her father had been up to while she was gone. Paying off universities? That was a new low for even him. No way in hell would they have willingly taken her after everything, but Seph was sure their minds were changed as soon as her dad made a hefty donation. How many libraries or community centers now had their name plastered across them? 

“Oh…you've already seen the letters.”

Seph lifted her head to see her mother standing in her doorway, a slight uneasiness to her. 

“Well, they are on my desk. Seems like someone wanted me to see them.” 

Marilyn, the snow queen in question, took in a deep breath and heavily exhaled while crossing the threshold inside. She immediately approached where Seph stood, her own hands frantically shuffling the papers together and then tucking them beneath her arm. 

“No need to worry about those right now.” Reaching back with her free hand, the older woman then retrieved something before extending it out to Seph. It was her phone. 

“I figured you could use a bit of normalcy again.” 

Hesitantly, Seph accepted the device, slowly nodding. 

“Thanks,” she lowly spoke.��

This whole demeanor that her mom was portraying was very out of the ordinary for her. She couldn't help but to be slightly taken back by it. Maybe it made it appear as if she wasn't actually thankful, although she was. Who could blame her for being suspicious, though? After what had happened, this was the last sort of interaction she was expecting. 

“Dinner will be at six, okay?” 

Seph watched as her mother walked away, giving her a small nod in understanding. Once she was gone, she followed the same path she took, only to quietly close the bedroom door to allow her some privacy. There was then a need within her to get her phone turned on. She rushed over to the side of her bed where she typically had her charger plugged in, relieved to see that the cord remained. After inserting it into her phone, she waited a few seconds, then the Apple logo popped up. 

A sigh of relief left her, her body lowering down to sit on the edge of her bed. As the device powered on for the first time in who knows how long, notification after notification began to flash across the screen. 

grl are you okay?? 

i'm worried! 

Alexa 

Heard about your incident. Dramatic. 

Seriously? Call me. 

Stop being a baby. I'm sure daddy made sure you have your phone. 

Sweden? That's laughable. You hate fish. You'd never survive on the cuisine. 

No one believes that's where you are, by the way. 

Your dad is fucking insane!!!! 

Maisie 

babe come on talk to me. 

i’m not mad about you and emo guy. 

maisie showed me the video but it's fuckin dumb. 

lol can't believe you were gonna fuck him tho. 

sweden?? and you didn't tell me?? wtf

Mason 

OMG miss you! 

damn it's gonna suck to not have any infamous Seph parties senior year! 

Aw hope you have so much fun abroad! I loved it when I went! 

u are not gunna believe wat i heard about u

Random “friends”

I miss you. 

Noah 

It was a horrible idea for her to read any of these, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. There were a lot that she deleted, most being from unknown numbers or people she hadn't even spoken to since way before all of this. Everyone obviously just wanted some entail and they thought going directly to the source would work out for them. Oh how wrong they were. 

The last message she read was what really got to her, though. She assumed Noah had known the truth of what happened pretty early on, meaning that his text from only a couple of months ago was honest. That's what she was telling herself, at least. Every other text thread was deleted except for that one, then she started a new one. 

‘Home. Need to see a friendly face.’ 

Seph stared down at the screen as if Nick would have already replied when she knew he was busier than usual these days. The band, working at a tattoo shop, it all left very little downtime for him and the others. But much to her surprise, the little gray bubble appeared, indicating that he was typing. 

‘FUCK YEA DUDE!!’

'Come by the shop!’

'I'm here working on some pieces until probably 9’

It was impossible for her to explain how at ease she now felt knowing someone was excited about her being back, especially when that someone happened to be one of the only people she considered a friend. Getting close to Nick had come out of left field; definitely not done on purpose since she always felt like he only tolerated her for Noah. Who ever would've thought they would've gotten as close as they had while hours away? It was all strictly platonic, though. She looked at Nick as more of a brother type, and she knew he viewed her the same. Well…as a sister, but same sentiment. 

After dinner, she would slip away and somehow make it to the tattoo shop Nick had mentioned a few times. Maybe she’d get lucky and her parents would do their usual routine of acting as if she wasn't even there, just so she wouldn't have to awkwardly crawl out of her window. Plus, that would also mean they wouldn't realize she had left. Perfect. All she had to do was make it through dinner…

Well, that wasn't currently going so well. 

Her favorite meal had been cooked for the night, though her appetite was nearly nonexistent these days. Was it the mental issues? Or the meds she downed to help fix said issues? Either way, a few bites was all she could stomach. 

“Not hungry?” Her mother spoke up first, her lips showcasing a sympathetic smile. 

Okay, seriously. What the hell had gotten into her? 

“No…not really. Sorry.” 

Marilyn shook her head in a way to silently tell Seph that it was okay, but before she could verbally respond, her father was beating her to it. 

“You need to eat,” he demanded as he eyed her from across the table. “It'll help you feel better to have decent food again.” 

Seph stared at the older man, inwardly biting her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything too rash. No need to cause an argument on her first night back. 

“I don't think I'll be feeling too great when this doesn't sit well and ends up in the toilet.” 

A heavy sigh came from her mother, who then covered the sound by taking a long swallow from her glass of wine. Ugh, she should've snuck a few sips for herself before dinner began. 

Although Seph could tell that there was something needing to be said that was right on the tip of her father’s tongue, he remained silent. The daggers he glared at her were loud enough. Before anything could be set off, she carefully slid her chair back and stood up. 

“Where are you going?” Her father sternly questioned as she walked by with her sights set on the front door. Seph snagged a set of car keys and clutched them tight within her palm, fully prepared to make a run for it if she really needed to. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. 

“I just need some air.” 

There was a start of a protest from her parents, but she didn't linger long enough to hear whatever it was they had to say. She was already out the door and closing the distance between herself and her mom’s car. 

× × ×

It was a blessing that she knew downtown Richmond like the back of her hand or else she never would've found the tattoo shop tucked in along the congested street. There was a neon red ‘open' sign glowing in the window, but nothing beyond that really told you what the business was until you were right on top of it. Not too surprising to her that the guys would work somewhere low key. 

There was a faint jingle from the bell above the door as she entered the building, though she figured the bell was only for show because the music playing inside easily drowned it out. A girl with multiple piercings shining on her face sat behind the front desk, and the opening and closing of the door caused her to look up at who could possibly be coming in near closing time. 

“Hey…” she hesitantly spoke, though a polite smile was visible on her lips. “I'm looking for Nick.” 

Piercing girl glanced over her shoulder and leaned back in her seat a bit as if trying to see something just out of reach. 

“Do you have an appointment?” She questioned after returning to her resting position. “We aren't taking walk ins right now.” 

“Oh…no…I'm just a friend of his.” Seph almost blurted out that she wasn't even old enough to get a tattoo, though she figured that surely would've gotten her kicked out. “He told me to stop by.” 

“Seph?”

A familiar voice broke through before either of the girls could exchange any more words. She lifted her eyes to see Nick stepping through a door that led to the back, both of them sharing near identical smiles at the sight of each other. Seph slid around the counter and rushed over with quick steps, her arms immediately being thrown around his neck to embrace in a close hug. 

“Peach!” She excitedly exclaimed while her arms squeezed him so tight that she was convinced she was cutting off his ability to breathe. Never had she and Nick really even touched, yet here they were, embracing each other as people within the tattoo shop awkwardly sideyed them. 

“Your hair!” Seph gasped as she pulled back to look at him, her hands now grasping his shoulders. Nick mimicked her stance, laughing as her eyes scanned all around his face and the new tattoos he adorned. “You cut it!” 

“People tend to get haircuts every now and then,” he continued to laugh. 

“Yeah, but it's kinda all mullet-y now! I love it!” It didn't matter that he had a beanie on in the middle of the summer. She could still see those new layers. 

“If you think I look different, then just wait until you see Noah. Dude has grown at least two - shit, sorry, Pom.”

The smile she wore began to fade at his mention of Noah, her grip on his shoulders loosening. She didn't like this reaction her mind and body immediately had to his mere existence being brought up. Hopefully this glitch in her system would work itself out. 

“It's all good,” she shook her head. “I'm gonna have to face the music at some point, yeah?”

Nick gave her a sympathetic smile to accompany the gentle squeeze of her shoulder. He then nodded his head towards the door he had come from, motioning for her to follow. 

“Come on, let's get away from all this fucking noise.” 

Ushering her into the back room, Seph was greeted by what appeared to be a break area; a table with a couple of chairs, a fridge, couch, and all the other workings for people to be comfortable when working long shifts. In front of the couch there was a coffee table with different sketches strewn about it. She assumed this is what Nick had been working on. 

“I had no idea you were doing tattoo stuff,” she muttered softly while approaching the coffee table to gaze down upon the drawings. 

“You never asked.” Nick shrugged, his body bent to peer into the fridge towards the back of the room. “I mean, I never really asked things about you either, so I guess we're both assholes.” 

Seph glanced back at him, extending a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I've had a lot going on up here.” She motioned to her head before lowering down onto the couch. 

Nick was following suit not too long after, his hands holding out a bottle of water for her while the other clasped around a beer for himself. 

“Hey!” She laughed, eying the other beverage. “Not fair!” 

“What? You're not old enough to drink.” Nick chuckled while taking a swallow from the can. 

“Neither are you!” 

Although her eyes narrowed at him in a glare, she was only joking. She released a dramatic sigh, but then took the offered water and twisted the cap off. “You better be glad I shouldn’t drink with my meds.” 

After taking a couple of sips from her water, she carefully placed the bottle on the coffee table and then tugged the sketchbook into her lap. She began to slowly flip through the pages, though she hadn't even bothered to ask if she could. Oops. 

“How is…all of that going, by the way?” 

“Fine, I guess,” she gave a single shoulder shrug. “Everything is amazing and perfect.” 

Nick’s eye roll was so pronounced that she swore she heard his eyes somersaulting in his skull. He then sighed, his face telling her that he was not convinced. 

“You're full of shit,” he smiled despite the attempt at a serious conversation that she was trying to shoot down. 

Seph laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I am.” 

With a pause in her page flipping, she glanced over to him, seeing that he was staring directly at her. There was no way he was going to drop the topic. As annoying as it was, Seph was a little…touched that Nick cared enough to actually ask. Not even her parents had. 

“I don't really like them,” she honestly revealed. “They always make my brain feel like it's in a fog. I'm mega tired, nothing tastes good, and all I want to do is rot in my bed.” 

A finger then tapped the page she had been staring down at, the drawing that of some sort of creature with horns. She had no idea what it was, but she liked it. “This is cool,” she complimented with hopes to change the subject. 

Seph knew she should've known better than to even attempt it. 

“Hey,” Nick tried to gain her attention, which she eventually gave him by lifting her head and meeting his gaze. “You know you can talk to me, right? Noah, too…he’d probably sing about it all night if you did.” 

Offering a faint smile, she nodded. “I know…it's just hard talking to anyone about things, but especially Noah. Opening up has never been easy for me.” 

As easy as it would've been for her to elaborate on this, she didn't. She wasn't trying to make this a pity party for herself. Coming by to see Nick was actually supposed to be the exact opposite of that. 

Nick leaned forward a bit, his elbows resting on his knees and both hands grasping the beer can. “Talk. To. Him.” He further explained, this being his final attempt at trying to get her to do what they all knew needed to be done. 

“You'll end up regretting it if you don't.” 

× × ×

It was that conversation that landed her in the guys’ shared home the following night. Again she had left her own house without explanation; fully ignoring her parents on her way out. They seemed to be letting her do whatever for now, though she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to push her luck. Whatever. They should just be glad she had finally ditched the sweatpants for a pair of shorts and slapped some makeup on her face for the first time in a year. It was minimal, but at least she cared enough about something to try. 

Nick had claimed it was only going to be a small get together, but the ten to fifteen people mingling around told her otherwise. No, it wasn't anywhere near the level her parties had been, but it was still a bit much for someone in her current mental state. Seph was determined to power through, though. She was desperate to return to her old self. At least in some aspects. 

“Oh my god! Sephy!” 

There was barely time to react before Alexa was rushing to her, forcing her into a tight hug that she had not been prepared for. She still smiled, choking out a soft laugh as her hands hesitantly patted the girl's back. 

“I thought I heard Nick say something about you being back! Oh my god! This is amazing! How are you?!” 

While her and Alexa had been kinda friends before this whole thing, she wouldn't have considered them to be close. They were acquaintances at best, though she was assuming things were going well between her and Folio if she was still hanging with the guys. Guess that meant she would have to stay on her good side as well. 

“I'm good! Yeah, things are going good.” Seph nodded once they had broken from the hug. She felt as if she was going to be telling this lie a lot going forward. 

Alexa gasped and held onto her arm, her eyes going wide as she looked back to the room she had just emerged from. “Have you seen Noah yet?! He's going to be so fucking stoked to see you. I know it.” 

Opening her mouth to speak, she wasn't even able to get a word out before Alexa was pulling her along to the next room. Her voice called out for Noah, repeating his name a couple of times. 

“Look who's finally back from Sweden!” Alexa gently bumped her with her shoulder as she laughed, and when she glanced over to the girl, she winked at her. Huh, okay. Was everyone just going to be in on this joke? 

“Sweden?” A guy with long dark hair that was pulled half back she didn't recognize spoke up, a bright smile taking up his face. “Hallå!”

Alexa laughed again as she reached out to his shoulder, shaking her head. 

As much as Seph wanted to figure out what that was about, she was now far too lost in the other guy that stood in front of her. Noah. Her eyes stuck to him, unable to look away, though she didn't want to. He had definitely filled out some within the last year and his hair was much longer, but it suited him. 

Also, when the hell had he gotten a neck tattoo? 

NOAH

Persephone fucking Hill. 

In his house. 

Staring up at him with awe. 

Fuck. 

What the hell was he supposed to say? Good to see you? Wow, so glad you're free? Nice tits?

Okay, definitely not the last one. That was a bad thought for him to even have. But still, nothing felt like it would be the right thing to say after how things ended. 

“Long time no see,” he then blurted out. 

Goddammit. That was lame as fuck. 

Noah could sense both Jolly and Alexa picking up on the awkward vibes because they took simultaneous swallows of their drinks and then slipped away in a nonchalant manner. 

“I probably wouldn't have even recognized you if Alexa hadn't dragged me over here.” Seph chuckled, and he knew immediately that she was just as nervous as he was. That was a bit of a relief. 

He wanted to tell her that that was okay because he would've spotted her within seconds. The words didn't leave his mouth, though. Actually, no words did. Noah continued to stare at her, both of them holding the other’s gaze. 

No, he couldn't get caught up in Seph again. It wasn't good for him. It wasn't good for her. Neither of them were what the other needed. That's what he had been telling himself for a year as he tried to get over her. Noah wished he could say that it had worked. 

“Noah…can we skip the weirdness of acting like we don't know each other? I've had a lot of time to think about how this would go, y’know, when we saw each other again, and every interaction I imagined was awkward…to say the least.” 

Seph laughed as a hand lifted to tuck her hair behind her ear, her eyes tearing from his for a brief moment. He inwardly frowned when this happened, already missing the sight of her honey colored irises. But when she didn't look back at him yet, he finally nodded and glanced around the kitchen. 

“Do you want a drink? I can fix you something.” Noah was already reaching for bottles before she could reply because of course he remembered her favorite mix: fruit punch and vodka. He found it revolting but he had a fond memory of her mouth dyed red one night when they sat in her backyard, and she was telling him some story he didn't remember all because of said red dye. 

“Sure…but hold the vodka.” She placed a hand on his wrist to stop him from untwisting the cap of the liquor, the small touch like fire on his skin. 

“I'm not really drinking at the moment.” 

It then dawned on him that Seph was probably on some medications she had been instructed not to mix alcohol with. He was tempted to tell her that it would be fine because he did it all the time, but this maybe wasn't the time. Seph was a big girl. She could make her own decisions. 

“Oh, yeah, that's cool. Just fruit punch it is then.” As he set the vodka bottle aside, he instead grabbed the juice and filled the cup half way before passing it her way. She gazed at him from over the rim while taking a sip, that sight alone making him weak in the knees. 

Get it the fuck together, Noah. 

“This is probably when I should tell you that I'm sorry…”

It seemed as if apologies at parties were starting to become their new norm. He couldn't say he was very fond of it. 

Noah took in a deep breath before swallowing from his own drink, his head shaking while lowering the cup. 

“You don't have to do that, Seph. Seriously. Ancient history.” 

He watched as she shifted awkwardly before leaning a hip into the kitchen island they stood behind. She looked basically the same, though maybe a few pounds lighter and her hair was longer, just as his was. Noah assumed the former had to do with the lack of decent food, and probably just a lack of appetite all together. He understood how it could be when starting medications. 

“I saw your text.” 

Noah froze, his mind racing to figure out what she was talking about. He then remembered the one message he had sent a couple of months ago when he had been up way too late and lost in his thoughts. It happened a lot but he usually had enough self control to not message her. That night, not so much. 

When he didn't say anything, she continued. 

“I missed you too.” 

That made him scoff, head shaking while taking another generous swallow of his drink. He looked off to the side as if interested in whatever his friends were doing, but he was actually trying to hold back his words. 

Glancing back to Seph, her brows were furrowed in confusion. 

Noah shrugged, fingers tapping against the side of his cup he held. “I need to talk to you about something.” 

With no other explanation, he placed a hand against her lower back while gently maneuvering her out of the kitchen and to the opposite side of the house where his room was. Noah could tell Seph was lost, which wasn't a shock. He wasn't exactly being very forthcoming right then. 

The door to his bedroom was quietly closed, then he was turning to look at her again. He expected her to be staring back at him, but she was actually slowly stepping around his room, studying the minimal items he had on the walls and on his desk. Clutter and knickknacks had never really been his thing. 

It was then that Noah realized this was the first time Seph had been in his room, or just where he lived in general. They were always somewhere less personal before, until the night of her party. 

“So, uh, your dad came and talked to me while you were gone.” 

He had no idea how to approach this topic, though he figured it was best to do it sooner rather than later. 

“I heard…” she murmured, her focus up on the framed images hanging on his wall. “That sounds like it was loads of fun.” 

Noah chuckled, a hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “Not exactly the words I'd use.” 

“What did he want?” 

A few steps were taken so he stood at her side, his eyes down on her while hers remained elsewhere. There was an urge to reach out and touch the bare skin of her shoulder, brush her hair aside, but he resisted by shoving his free hand into his pocket. 

“He tossed out a lot of legal jargon, probably just to confuse me, but what I gathered is that he's thinking about pressing charges against Maisie. He also had a few choice words for me and our friendship.” 

Seph then looked at him, head tilted up at just the right angle for their eyes to meet. Her figure shifted and turned a bit, both of them facing each other. 

“I'm not going to let him press charges,” she exclaimed with a confidence that he hadn't been expecting. “Nothing happened in the video.” 

Was she not interested in the last bit he had tossed in? 

“He doesn't want us around each other.” 

This made her softly laugh, her eyes rolling. “Of course he doesn't.” 

“I'm not really su-”

“What do you think about that?” Seph cut him off, her eyebrow arched curiously. 

Noah stumbled over his words a bit since he hadn't really thought that in depth about it yet. He figured he needed to see how things were between them first. And now that he had…he still had no idea. 

“Do you want us to not be around each other?” She repeated her question with different wording, as if that would get an actual response out of him. 

“No…” he hesitantly replied, a slight smile appearing. 

“Then what he wants or has to say doesn't matter.” 

Again, Noah was struggling to find his words. Fuck. This was not going how he wanted it to. He was supposed to be agreeing with her dad, telling her that it was best for them to stay away from each other. But nope, he couldn't bring himself to say it. How could he when she was looking at him like that?

“I really did miss you.” 

Welp, that really cut his growing mood a bit. 

“It's actually funny that you say that since you didn't make any attempt to talk to me.” 

There was no way he could continue to bite his tongue on the matter when she just kept bringing it up…kind of. Inadvertently. 

“But you talked to Nick…how many times? Multiple times a week for nearly a year?” 

Seph bit down into her lower lip, her gaze dropping to the carpet in shame. Damn. Now he felt bad. 

No. He wouldn't let her get to him that easily. 

“I…I know it was shitty, okay? I didn't even mean to start talking to him. His Instagram was public so I was able to message him from a nurse’s account. I just wanted to check in…see how everyone was…but then talking to him helped keep my mind at ease when I really needed it.” 

Noah now did an eye roll of his own, his feet shuffling back a bit so he could place some distance between them. That sure as hell didn't explain why she hadn't talked to him. Only why she hadn't contacted him first. 

“Fuck, Noah. I was terrified to talk to you, is that what you want to hear? I didn't want to know how mad you were at me or find out what you thought about me after everything.” 

“Mad? I wasn't mad at you, Seph. I was worried! You kick me out, I don't hear from you, and then I find out from Alexa that you're gone?” 

A hand ran over his face, heavily exhaling. He definitely hadn't been prepared to have this conversation with her right then. 

“And what do you mean by what I thought of you? I always looked at you like the sun fucking shone out of your ass, so why would that have changed?” 

Seph was physically taken back by his statement. Her mouth fell open a bit, but then promptly closed. Head shaking, he could see the clench in her jaw. This told him that she was not happy. 

“No, you looked at me like I was this perfect unobtainable thing! You were just as blind to everything like my parents were because you couldn't fathom the fact that someone you saw as sunshine was falling apart bit by bit everyday!” 

It was Noah's turn to be taken back now. He stared straight at Seph, sporting a clenched jaw of his own that rivaled hers. 

“I didn't want you to think of me like that, Noah. And I know it's ass backwards and doesn't make sense. Don't want you to see me as perfect…don't want you to see me breaking down…” Seph shook her head to herself, her hands moving about as she spoke at a rather fast pace. 

“Believe me, I'm confused too.” 

“You've got to stop caring so much about what other people think. If someone judges you for breaking under pressure, then you call them an ‘asshole’ and keep it moving!” 

Seph had her eyes cast to the ceiling, her lips folded in for only a brief moment. He was waiting for her to say something - anything - that let him know she understood. 

“It's not that simple.”

Nope. Not the response he was hoping to hear. 

“But it is that simple, Seph. Why the fuck do you care about what other people have to say? Myself included.” 

“I don't…” she stammered over the two words, and Noah could tell that even she wasn't convinced. 

“Why, Seph?” He found himself taking a step closer to where she stood, his voice a little softer now than it previously had been. It hadn't been his intention to get so worked up, especially not when this was the first time they were seeing each other in what felt like forever. 

Noah could see the tears welling in her eyes. He knew that she knew why. It was only a matter of whether or not she was going to reveal this to him. He wasn't going to push her, but he was well aware of how this all needed to go. Seph needed to admit it to herself. 

“Because…I only feel worth anything when I know people like me.” 

PERSEPHONE 

And there it was. The truth Noah had been trying to tug out of her since the beginning of it all. It felt juvenile to say, admitting that people’s thoughts and opinions of her was what made her feel good about herself. Did that mean Maisie had been right about her? Was she only interested in Noah because of how he used to once look at her as if she was perfect? 

No, she wouldn't let that be true. He was worth so much more than that to her, even if she had a horrible way of showing it. 

“Fuck other people, Seph. They don't mean anything. Only the people who you feel like yourself around are the ones who matter.” 

“And what if they see parts of me they don't like? Hm? What happens then? What happens when you realize I'm just some fucked up girl who isn't worth the hassle?” 

Seph couldn't stop her voice from breaking as she laid it all out for him. If Noah wanted honesty, then that's what she would give him. And if he happened to run, well, at least she could say 'I told ya so’. 

Instead of using his words, Noah was quick to cross the remainder of the bedroom to where she stood. His large hands enveloped her face and soon he was pulling her up into a kiss that made her heart race and her breathing halt, all at the same time. She was unable to stop herself from leaning into him, eager to have as much of him pressed against her as she could. It was just like they were back in her room a year ago when she craved to truly feel him. Definitely didn't take much for that need to return full force. 

Seph didn't dare break from the kiss as her hand came up to grasp the back of his neck, her fingers briefly tangling into the long strands of his hair. She actually somehow managed to deepen the kiss even as Noah progressed forward, both of them taking in sync steps back to where his bed was. 

As soon as she was lying back against his perfectly made bed, Noah followed right behind her. She pulled him down close against her, his lithe frame settling between her legs, knees pressed firm into his hips. One hand held himself up while the other drifted beneath the shirt she wore, just to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. Seph broke from his lips for mere seconds so she could rid him of his own shirt, which Noah took as an invitation to do the same. It had definitely been one. 

“Noah…” she murmured into his mouth as they again collided in a heated kiss. As much as she didn't want to, she managed to pull back a bit, just as his fingers began to work on the button of her shorts. Though when she stopped, his hands also paused. Seph licked over her lips as she gazed up at him. She was then thankful for her flushed cheeks because that meant the blush creeping up was well hidden. 

“I've never done this before…” she admitted, despite knowing that he probably already knew this from past conversations. As well as Maisie outing her during all of that commotion. There was just a weird urge she had to properly disclose the information to him. 

Noah released her shorts, though his hands shifted to glide along her hips and up her sides in a soothing manner. “Are you sure?” 

There was a pause and then he was shaking his head, laughing in slight embarrassment at himself. “Not ‘are you sure' you haven't done this because I think you'd know if you had. But are you sure that you want to…right now…with me?” 

Of course she couldn't help but to laugh along with him, her nose scrunching at how flustered he had just made himself. Noah’s cheeks were now red with a blush and it was a sight she was hoping to always remember. 

Seph sunk her teeth into her lower lip after their laughter had died down. She didn't want to hesitate with her response because she didn't want Noah to think she was second guessing anything. Maybe the timing wasn't ideal, considering there was a get together happening on the other side of the wall, but Seph wasn't the kind of girl who needed planning and rose petals. The social construct of virginity wasn't that deep to her, not like how a lot of people made it out to be.  All that she cared about was trusting the other person and actually caring about them…much like how she cared for Noah. 

“Yes,” she finally spoke with confidence, just so Noah knew she wasn't second guessing anything that had to do with him. 

Noah then took in a deep breath, giving her a nod of his own before his head angled down and his lips trailed slowly along her neck. Oh, so now he was going to take his time? 

“Just one thing…” she breathlessly mumbled after her eyes had fluttered closed and she was doing all she could to focus on the new sensations sweeping through her. 

“Anything,” Noah continued to kiss and bite at the sensitive skin of her neck, his fingers returning to the button of her shorts that he managed to swiftly pop free. 

Seph softly laughed, her hand lifting to cradle the side of his head in a way that made him pull back just enough to gaze down at her. 

“Can you lock the door?” 

CHAPTER FOUR JUMP

× End of chapter notes!: One guess as to where my eyes started crossing because I was beyond tired but needed to get this completed at a decent stopping point. :') ANYWAYYY, not me pausing halfway through and thinking, "is this about to become a Ruffilo fic?" A story really does write itself sometimes but NO. I had to refrain. But will there more little Peach and Pom moments? Yes. ♥‿♥

If anyone can tell me what the preferred chapter length is among the masses, then that would be greaaat. Stop me from my wild ramblings. Please. Unless you guys are into it and then I guess I'll just keep on truckin'.

[shinyrhinestones]

Youthful Hearts

Part three

Finally gave this story a name. So uhm if it doesnt make sense, well then thats because I’m really tired and my first language isn’t english 🙃.

Anyways bear with me on this one, i feel like its going slow but thats because i kinda have an idea but like writing isn’t that easy so be nice yk.

No warnings other than alcohol. Set in the 90s.

Billie Joe X Fem!Reader.

Here are all the other parts.

———————

Before saturday officially would be here, you walked the route to the bar you had been invited to this weekend. You went walking around in town after school. You had went home dropped off your stuff and took a break, before you got out and about.

You weren't even sure if you were going the correct way, but you did what you could. On the map it was marked where you had to show up. You had on your own marked your own street, so you didn't have to search for it all the time. You tried reading the map by the knowledge you had from 8th grade P.E.

You walked it twice to make sure you knew where you were going. Even though you could've done it more, but you also didn't wanna come of as weird if anyone were sitting around and noticed. It wasn't easy to feel confident with where you were going still, because of the unfamiliar streets and turns. You hadn't really gotten out much outside of school. It was all pretty much just the same routine. You knew where to go grocery shopping and where your school was, and that was what you were more focused on at the time.

Like little steps.

But one day you knew you had to get more out, and know your area more. To find out what doctor to go to now that you had to stay in California for a few years. All that basic and necessary stuff.

But for now all you were gonna need was the route to that damn bar or pub or what it was. To be honest, nights out like this were new to you as you were only just 21 years old. Sure, you'd drank alcohol as a teenager with friends and at parties between classes of the school, but you've never been out at a bar or something like that. Not that you were afraid. You had self-control, and have experienced parties before. This time was just gonna be a little different.

You had scrambled through your closet trying to find out what to wear. A skirt? A dress? What kind of dress? How long? What colour? Pants? But then what shirt do i put on to make it more exciting?

It was safer to go with pants.

You had spent time infront of the mirror figuring out what you wanted to look like the next night. You didn't have time to stress about it tommorow. Well, you did, but it was just gonna stress you more.

————————-

As the cold summer evening had appeared, you were standing by the bar, in your pretty yet comfortable outfit.

You tried to peek inside to see if any of the other girls were already there. You felt like no one would ever understand how this made you extremely nervous. More than nervous. Your palms were already sweaty and your heart was beating at an almost inhumane pace. But you knew that you had to go in and look if you wanted to gain more connections. Thoughts came invading as you grabbed the doorknob.

'It's probably the wrong bar.

They were probably just pranking me.

I'm too early. '

You sighed, and entered the bar. You eyes searching for familiar faces. You spotted them by the actual bar. Sitting on the bar stools, shoving each other, laughing with each other, joking around, smiling and shining.

You walked over to them and greeted them.

"Oh hi, Y/N." One of the light haired girls smiled aswell as the others. A warm welcome was atleast a little reassuring.

You took off your coat and let the warmth from the bar embrace you instead.

You sat down on one of the bar stools, and rested your arms on the counter. You let your eyes scan the bar, and it wasn't all that big. The light was kinda dimmed but it was enough to see. Close to the bar there was a scene. A stage, which you thought was interesting.

You wouldn't like to admit it, but you probably did drink more than what you should've. And that normally would have been really embarrasing infront all of your quite new classmates, but they couldn't make fun of you, as they all got really tipset. One of the girls were drunk to the point her boyfriend had to pick her up from the bar.

Now you dont drink often. Actually, you only ever drink when you're invited to parties or events like this. But it's not like you causally drink on a friday evening, just because you can.

However, getting drunk with your new classmates might've been what was missing for you to grow closer to them. Cause the whole night you felt included in their converstations and jokes. Even the pictures they took, you were invited into. Which would only make sense, but in the past you've had those kind of experiences.

Yeah, people weren't always nice, but some could be really merciless.

You were headed out the doors of the bar. Your legs felt weak, as you made your way towards the exit.

As your hand wrapped around the cold doorhandle, and pushed the door open, your felt a huge breeze meet your face. You felt way more free outside. Away from the intimate and tight bar.

As you check your pockets for your keys, you look up around you. To your side you see the same three guys as before. There was like two other guys aswell, who you didn't recognize. Or something, your vision was a little blurry and you didn't really have the energy to think that seriously.

The tallest guy saw you and gave you a small smile, clapped on a guys back who had red hair. And then he walked down the alley way leading to the back of the bar. You know, the guy with the natural hair colour. You never got any of their names.

The green haired one was holding some equipment, as he followed behind, not paying you any attention anyways.

Oh right, the red haired guy. You weren't sure you'd seen him before. Who was this new dude?

He was standing by a cars trunk this whole time. His hands roaming around all kinds of equipment. Wires and stuff. You studied him for a moment, all you could really see was his body from behind. He wasn't all that tall, red hair and slightly broad shoulders.

He must've had pierced ears, cause the only thing really shining in the dark streets was something from his ears. Well, besides the dim street lanps of course. Didn't change the fact it was so dark out.

Looked like he finally had it all sorted out, 'cause he turned around about to walk down the alley way too. "Oh" you heard that single word escape his mouth.

You had just been staring and standing all this time, your cheeks almost caught on fire. You bit your bottomlip, sighing.  "Hi". His eyes had widened just a bit, as he was thumbling with something in his hands.

Why was he saying hi?

Barely know him.

"Hi." You replied out of reflex. But thats when you got a good look at him through your tired drunken eyes. His lips perked up slightly.

His face was familiar. His green eyes, short nose & long dark eyebrows. "You're redhaired now." You smiled, and talked as if you've known him for long.

'I'm too giddy for this'

When really you only had a short interaction.

He nodded and shrugged. So did you. He obviously didn't care, you were still just a stranger. So was he. You turned around on your heel, thinking you must've gone too far, been too weird and therefore should've just left it all behind and forget it. You were about to just keep on walking when you realized, you'd drank too much and needed help to navigate again.

Ugh.

You quickly turned around. "Sorry." You said quickly, since the man already was headed towards the same path as all the others. Down behind the bar. His eyebrows perked up, and turned his head over his shoulder. "Uhm, sorry, but i need help again." You sighed, and he didn't seem to have a specific reaction to that. Or maybe he did, maybe there was a small light in his eyes, but you were rubbing one eye, and still that wouldn't help your tired vision.

"Yeah?" Right, you could've asked for help for pretty much anything. Too broad of you to say.

"I'm kinda lost again. Had too much to drink." You give a weak embarrassed smile, shuffling your weight from foot to foot.

"Alright." He answered. But in your exhausted and drunken state, you couldn't tell the adress. You were finally getting the hang of all the adresses and street names around here, but apparently a few drinks took that away from you. You let out an almost inaudible groan, as your hand searches your jacket pocket for that stupid paper. He noticed. "Sorry." You said as you gave it to him.

"You say that a lot now." He pointed out, and read the paper again. He wouldn't be able to remember that adress cause of many different reasons. One to be the fact that you were a stranger, another reason could be he didn't need to remember the adress in general. And so on.

But this man didn't mind the piece of paper being handed to him a second time. Apparently. He had a pen in his pocket, pulled it out, wrote on the paper, and gave it back to you. Your hands hid behind your back, as your small purse hang losely from your fingers grip. You furrowed your eyebrows and hesitantly took it back.

He stepped out on the road to point and explain, just like last time. You smirked. Mostly an embarassed smirk.

"Thank you." You breathed through a laugh, and as you went on your way home.

You shoved the paper into your back pocket of your dark blue denim pants.

————————————-

A/N: okay this one kinda sucks and i hate it. Also i changed the way it was gonna go cause i didn't know what to write 😭 stop hate anyways bye!

Wait i was also thinking about giving Reader an artistic education. Like she goes to art school, acting school or something yk.

So if anyone wants to get a choice within this just let me know! But there won’t be much competition bc apparently Billie Joe fics aren’t that popular..😔 lol no anyways bye fr!

[carbonfiction]

Hiraeth ; Part 1?

(A homesickness for a home or person to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past)

Summary: Sometimes Karl would have dreams, of a small girl with the prettiest smile and hair like strands of ambered gold. She'd play with smaller him in the dirt, dress covered in mud and dust like it didnt even matter to her. She was his best girl, his favorite, the daughter of a shepherd. The only one to give him the time of day and didnt judge him for being.. Well, Him.

He just wished he remembered her name or why he would dream of her.

A/N: Im not too sure where im going with this so please bare with me- also hi, not yet dead, just fell into a large pit of negative feeling. Take this WIP as my return? I guess?? Hopefully this makes sense and hopefully more to come! Lemme know what you think!

Also posted on AO3

Karl was dreaming again, snores slipping from his lips. It was part of the same dream he always seemed to have, of summer days and a childhood he could no longer truly recollect.

This time he'd run through long cleared mining caverns and the tall grass of fields, all weathers, all terrain, chasing gleeful laughter ahead of him. It was a distinctly feminine little laugh, flowy and light, carefree in only the way a child could be. He would play chase until his lungs burnt and his legs could no longer carry him, then and only then, would she appear.

She’d stand above his head peering down as he lay wherever his legs dropped him, head tilted with a smile full of mischief.

“Too slow again!, i told you i could run fast and you wouldn’t catch me, slowpoke” She’d tease him, tounge poking out her rosy lips, her small boot making gentle contact with his shoulder enough to jostle his body.

“Yeah, yeah, you got me. Not my fault your little magic boots beat mine, Karl-0 you-100” he’d tease back to her wheezing, finally sitting up but panting like a damn dog

She’d laugh again then as she smoothed out her dress, pretty and pale, and sat beside him in whatever dirt or trodden land they were in. “they aren’t magic boots silly, they are from the same cobbler who made yours! My daddy says im just quick on my feet, from helping chase the sheep probably.”

Karl would roll his eyes, huffing under his breath about her magic boots, sheep be damned.

She’d stay with him then, no care for his brooding or his loss of their game and talk. The two of them simply conversing and laughing and playing just about anything and everything, nonsense or otherwise, until a bellowed shout would come from the direction of the little village.

Then and only then would she leave him, bidding him a little wave and a shout as she bound off “night Karl! Same time tomorrow alright?”

Hed always watch her leave, belly sore from laughter and cheeks from the smile he’d find on his face. her hair bounced in its ribbon held ponytail, the back of her dress dirty from sitting and rolling on the ground.

Then, once she had left his sight, just as always, he’d wake. Leaving his little dreamland just as lost to himself as when he had begun having these dreams? Nightmares?

[nescaveckwriter]

Moonflowers & Werewolves - Chapter Six 🥰🥳

A/N: Y'all it's been awhile I know, but hopefully this chapter will make it worth it...❤️💕 Love y'all and thanks for the support my bugs 🐞🐞🩷

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, violence, fluffy, fear, a little bit of smut.. anything else I missed let me know💕

Characters: Derek, Maddie, Tom.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva. Also please do not copy my work!

Words:1500😅

Chapter Name: Six 💕

Her hazel brown eyes widened, her voice shaky “T…Tom?” Derek stood there, his hands still on her hips, he didn’t even need his heightened sense, to know this guy is a… he bit his lower lip, letting out a slight growl. Madison didn’t even take notice, he could see the fear written all over her beautiful face. Maybe it was instinct but he immediately led her to stand behind him, his jaw clenching, “Can we help you?”

The slick looking guy came walking towards them, he had this mocking sound in his voice, “Oh did you get yourself a bodyguard Maddie?”

Derick let out a muffled growl, clenching and unclenching his fist’s trying to not turn into a werewolf, he hated this guy already. “No! I’m her boyfriend” 

Tom laughed, “Ha! Please you get out of here buddy, I’m her husband”

Derek felt a stab at his heart, turning to look Maddie in the eyes, almost whispering “Your married?” 

She shook her head, her voice brittle “N…no I filed for divorce, but he wouldn’t sign the papers”

Tom came closer towards Derick, tapping him on his shoulder “listen here buddy…” before he could finish his sentence Derick’s palm meet his chest, picking him up by the shirt, Tom is being lifted in the air, Derek’s voice is deeper than normal “listen to me, Get the hell out of Madison’s house, and if I see you come near her again” now sounding more like a growl “I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth” and with one movement he threw the man on the floor close to the door.

Tom grunted in pain, that man didn’t look so strong, how the hell did he manage to pick him up and throw him like a damn paperweight through the air? He got up, in a barely audible voice “I’ll be back for you Maddie”

Derek turned towards Madison, his voice low and calm when he talked to her, he had a very good idea what happened, but he had to ask “Did your husband abuse you?” The way she looked at him broke his heart, like she remembered every slap, every fist, every kick, every beating he’d ever given her. She started to cry, feeling weak and helpless, her body shaking, her voice breaking “H…he was, no one knew”

He didn't really say anything, he took her trembling body into his arms, her head resting against his muscular çhest, his fingers brushing her long hair, he places a kiss on the top of her head, a faint whisper rolled over his lips “I'm so sorry” in that moment she found solace, a sense of comfort, she never felt, she didn't utter a single word, she just stood there in his embrace. 

It's been two weeks since Tom showed up, but he hasn't visited Maddie's house again as a matter of fact, it's like he disappeared not that it bothered her, but the unknown made her a little anxious, but in the days passed, the bond between Derek and her grew. That's what she's busy with right now, making a special dinner, just to thank him for everything, she's really fallen in love with him, with a supernatural being, did it make sense? No. But when does love make sense? 

Placing candles on the table, the whole scene looked romantic, all that was needed was for her to get dressed into something other than these food stained clothes. Checking the clock on the wall, she has an hour left before he comes, quickly runs into the bathroom, running a cherry blossom bubble bath. Finally with only five minutes to spare she's done, her dark hair hanging loosely, framing her face, a blue summer's dress hugging her curves perfectly, the scent lingering in the air was the cherry blossom from earlier. Somehow she felt nervous, and excited at the same time. Walking up and down checking herself, over and over in the mirror, she felt like a teenager in love, with the most handsome guy. 

He stood there checking his hair, in the window, breathing into his hands, just too check if his breath is as minty as the taste in his mouth, somehow he felt nervous, they are still getting to know each other, but he can’t remember the last time he felt this way, so with one last check in the window, his calloused hands runs through his hair. He knocks on the door, his heart beating out of his chest, and as she opens the door, looking at her in that blue summer’s dress, she takes his breath away, smiling at her, his voice coming out a little husky “Hello Maddie?” the way she smiled when she said, “welcome, come in” he hands her a single red rose, taking it from him, she smells the velvety flower, “thank you” giving him a small kiss on the cheek while standing on her tippy toes.

Her scent, filled his nostrils, cherry blossom and coconut he thinks, she walks into the living room, talking about something, but he couldn’t really focus, he eyes lingered on her perfect body, from her beautiful long hair, the hem of the dress as it covers her legs, and then her barefoot walking on the white tile floor, her calling him “Derek are you coming?” made him shift out of the trans, closing the door behind him, he walked towards the kitchen. “Sorry, what did you say?” she smiled at him, shaking her head “white or red?” Tilting his head slightly “what?” she laughs and it sounds heavenly “the wine, which one do you want?” He snickers a little “Oh” rubbing the back of his neck, “red, thank you” he takes in the view, the effort she’s done, everything looks so perfect, so romantic. “You went through all this trouble, it wasn’t necessary” handing him his wine, smiling a little shyly “I… I wanted to make it special.” taking a sip of her wine.

His eyes darted by the way her lips, touch the rim of her wine glass, and without hesitation he strides closer, taking the wine glass out of her hand placing it down with his, on the countertop, his hands cups her face, her brown eyes glistening, and without warning, his lips crashes against hers, he could taste the wine on her lips, with some sort of lip balm. She moaned softly, and that's when his tongue grazed her bottom lip, seeking entry, she parted her soft lips, and it didn’t take long for their tongues to do a passionate dance. Her palms was resting against his muscular chest, and as his hand got tangled in her hair, as he pulled her closer, her hands roamed up towards his neck, her fingernails slighting grazing his skin, which in return sent shivers down his spine, he lets out a slight growl. Without breaking the passionate kiss, his hands trace her curves till he’s at the back of her thighs, picking her up swiftly, placing her down on the kitchen countertop, he deepened the kiss, it didn’t take her long, she wrapped her legs around his waist, soft moans, falling against his lips, and, was it a beautiful sound. He pulled back coming up for air, after a few seconds she opened her eyes as well, looking into his green orbs, slowly gathering her breath, he looked at her, his voice hoarse from the passionate kiss “damn your beautiful” covering her face with her hands, too hide how flustered she is, sounding more breathy than intended “t…thank you” his hands peeled hers off her gorgeous face, “don’t hide from me, you are gorgeous” sounding husky.But before she could reply, his lips met hers in yet another endearing kiss, the passion and heat coursed through their bodies, hands roaming over the contours of their bodies, Once again he broke the kiss, only too look into her eyes, as if asking if she wanted it too, smiling shyly and nodding, he placed another kiss on her lips, wrapping his arms around her small frame, picking her up, and without breaking the kiss, he carried her too the bedroom, gently placing her on the bed, sharing a look of pure passion, ready to explore depths of each other, making their connection deeper. In that moment nothing else mattered, only the two of them, and the shadows dancing on the wall in heated passion, the soft glow of the moon shining in, making this night even more blissful…

@k-slla @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @angelbabyyy99 @bookishtheaterlover7 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl

[elvispresleyslut]

DADDY’S BEST FRIEND, ELVIS PRESLEY

A hot summer day in Memphis was beautiful as ever but nothing could beat the beauty of Graceland for me. Ever since the age of 10 my father whom I happened to be close with was long time friends with the one and only Elvis Presley. All my life friends would beg for autographs, pictures, clothing samples as if I could just ask this man for a kind of thing like that.

Elvis was almost like a second dad to me I suppose.

Maybe not the best wording? Considering i've  been drooling over him like every other girl across this world since middle school. Here I am 19 soon to be 20 doing nothing with my life, lusting after a king who probably sees me as a kid who he can spoil all because he has too much money and not enough people he cares to spend it on.

That doesn't even make sense..

My birthday now was coming up on the too soon 30th of June.

My mother never made my life any easier for me. She definitely didn't make it easier for me to accept the party when i was informed that Elvis took it upon himself to host this god awful thing at Graceland.

"Mama we can't just intrude in his home like this and invite all these people from around town as if we even know they're damn names.." I whined following my mother upstairs in our small home.

She sighed and stopped in her steps, "Stop trying to get me to cancel it all because you have a little crush on him. He doesn't mind and it's free, You should be out thanking EP right now instead of crying in my ear." she ends her words with a huff and continues into my little brothers room, dropping a pile of clean clothes for him to fold and put away later.

"I do not have any crush on him, mama." I raise my voice boldly. "How many times am I gonna have to tell you that? The guys like 70.." I add for good measure. It doesn't work.

"You look at him the way your father looks at pie..now will you please leave your ole mom alone."

She teasingly rolls her eyes and walks back downstairs to start on dinner.

"Go see him, Kim. Thank the man for the love of god. He's precious and you know it. He didn't have to do this for you but he seemed more than happy to make your 20th special." She pulls out her apron tying it loosely around her wide hips. "Wear something nice!"

I groan grabbing a hold of my car keys. I couldn't take her determined mindset anymore. I felt like i needed to surround myself in negativity. Why would he want me at his house like that? What would Prescilla think? Im far too old to be having birthday parties at a family friends house, let alone Elvis's.

I soon pull up to his gate driving in without even realizing I was still wearing my bathrobe. Fuck fuck fuck.

"I gotta go back" I whisper shoving my key back in and buckling back in. I begin to let my foot off the brake.

I hear a knock on my glass window and startle with a jump quickly slamming back down on the brake.

"Oh what the actual fuck!" I practically scream grabbing my hair and pulling slightly with overwhelming anxiety.

I contemplate driving off and never coming back home if i can help it but I settle with rolling down my window and laughing nervously for now. Fuck that.

"Woah sweetheart..what're ya doin here at.." Elvis trails off looking down at his watch "4:00 in the evenin'?"

"Ya family alright?" He questions softly. Why'd he have to be so damn sweet?

I slowly look up with the fakest smile I ever did use, "W-what?" I laugh obnoxiously. "No I came here for s-something else..cannot erm..r-r-remember what.." I say leaning forward on my steering wheel groaning in embarrassment.

Why'd he have to look so nice right now in a robe and nothing underneath from what you could tell of his slightly tan chest covered in light hair. Why was I such a whore staring so hard..

"You gonna come in honey or we gonna sit outside n' watch the sunset?" He teases opening your car door.

"N-no uh..I-I can just stay here, right here" I point down into my seat with my fingers. "Just here is fine." I nearly beg out loud.

i rather harshly shut my door back.

He laughs. He laughs at me. Dear god mama why'd she do this shit to me.

"Suit yourself, kid." He drawls out with his thick accent that matter of factly made me squeal at night before bed.

He walks around my car swiftly opening the passenger seat door sitting his fine ass right beside me. I can almost taste the smell of him as he drops into the seat.

"You gonna tell me now what you dropped by for? Or you gonna keep this oddly unlike you demeanor up?" He says with a tinge of tease.

I roll my eyes with a sigh, putting my car into park.

"Im under dressed..it's beyond embarrassing." I push out a fake laugh to ease how nervy I am really.

"Your actin like im lookin'..get to it Kim." he states bluntly.

"Fineeee..goddamn." I stare at my hands in my suddenly cold lap. "I came to say thankyou for wanting to host my "party" but I really can't accept-"

He cuts me off quickly with an unbeatable tone telling me already he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. "Nope. I already have everything done, no need to come beggin me to stop it. Everybody needs a party."

"Please just nothing big..Elvis. Like really.." I glance too quickly down at his wide spread pose and im caught red handed im sure of it. I didn't even have time to truly take in what I felt I could see through his seemingly thin robe.

"Play nice about it and I'll talk to your dad about alcohol" Elvis lets out an almost boyish giggle and I can't help the burning blush that takes over my ugly face.

We chat more for the next 10 minutes about what I'd prefer at my party but he caught on rather quickly I was only trying to turn it into some boring cookout that nobody would stay for.

Before to long I catch his watch set nicely on the arm rest of the seat he was currently in and see I've kept him in my presence too long in a fit of laughs. Not that I was complaining. His perfect teeth.

"Go back inside old man.. Too late for you to be awake." I say jokingly gently shoving him against his door.

He fakes pain and opens the door stepping out and I can't help but bite my lip at the sight of his toned tanned legs but somehow feel a tinge of sadness that I couldn't just yank him back and bone him to no end.

Walking up his porch he turns back to me and waves, "Goodnight honey, I'll stop by tomorrow to see your daddy!" He says with what I hope a joking attitude.

My dad can't know I was ever here on my own dressed like a slut, of course not on purpose. Sigh.

I drive off and head home to eat dinner with my family but all I can do for the rest of my night is think about how truly fucked I'll be at this party.

HI! THIS IS MY FIRST CHAPTER TO THIS HOPEFULLY GOOD STORY LOLS . IM NEW TO THE ELVIS FANDOM AND IM HOPING TO MAKE SOME MOOTS HERE SIGH . IM A LONELY PERSON AND I LIKE TO THINK IM NICE LMFAO! GIVE ME IDEAS FOR MY "BOOK". IM OPEN MINDED AND HAVE NO PLANS YET FOR THIS <3 ENJOY