#i miss him so fucking much i have been deprived since chapter 7 came out đđđđ
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rook àŒàș¶â âżâ àŒàș¶
#i miss him so fucking much i have been deprived since chapter 7 came out đđđđ#HIS LAST REVEAL WAS GLOMAS. GLORIOUS FUCKING MASQUERADE#HOW DO YOU THINK I'M STILL BREATHING đđđđđđđđđđđđđ#i WANT HIM BACK THEN I REMEMBER DECEMBER'S RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER#I'M FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE WITH 40 PULLS#my love please đ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„č i beg#i miss you sm my hunter please come home đ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„č#i feel like a housewife whose husband went to another country to work i can not live like this#i feel so LONELY i want him back you have no idea#i stare at his cards and i BLACK out#life is dull no rook#i try to make content of other characters but my brain just goes âhow about rook contentâ DARLING THERE'S BEEN NONE#i just wanna hug and smell him all day àŒàș¶â âżâ àŒàș¶àŒàș¶â âżâ àŒàș¶àŒàș¶â âżâ àŒàș¶ the nuis need a bath#rook rook rook (â â„â ïčâ â„â ) oh rook my love#i wanna CRY where are you my love my monsieur (â  â êšàș¶â  â ËÌ«Ìźâ  â êšàș¶â  â )#i miss your voice cracks and silly little hair swish (â ÂŽâ °̄̄̄̄̄̄̄̄â Ïâ °̄̄̄̄̄̄̄̄â ïœâ )
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Deprived | Three
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23
matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc)
summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths.
warnings: swearing, smoking (cigarettes)
word count: 3.4k
a/n: thank you so much for the love on this series!! just letting y'all know it's gonna be a slow burn so it's gonna be quite the long series. also made this chapter a bit longer so pls lmk if you like the longer chapters. things will get more exciting from here dw. love you all <3
pov: layla
I was planning on staying at school the whole day, I truly was. But when I felt more eyes on me than usual and murmurs surrounded me with every step I took, I decided I didn't have the energy to endure the whole day. I would skip my next two lessons and come back after lunch, considering I skipped my last two lessons yesterday and the whole point of me being here was to not get expelled for missing too many lessons.
Matt and Chris talked amongst themselves behind me as I walked to my locker but stopped earlier than when I reached it considering theirs were a fair distance from mine. I swung my locker open, still hearing murmurs of my name as people passed by me and I sighed, resting my head on the small shelf inside my locker. I looked across the hallway to see Matt talking to both of his brothers now, looking like they were having a serious conversation.
I pulled my bag out of my locker, swinging it onto my shoulder before I slammed the door closed louder than I usually would out of frustration. People turned to look at me and I slid my hood on, walking down the hallway as people started filtering out for their next class. I walked out the front door without being stopped by anyone, a breath of relief leaving me but once I noticed how hard it was raining, my shoulders slumped slightly.
I couldn't be bothered walking all the way home and back, especially in this rain but I also couldn't stand being at school at the moment. Amidst my thoughts and pulling my pack of cigarettes out of my bag along with my silver zippo lighter, I hadn't noticed the doors of the school opening.
"Hey, social butterfly," Matt appeared beside me, his hair now covered by a black baseball cap. I placed a cigarette between my lips, throwing the packet in my bag before lighting the end of it, "You're gonna smoke that here?"
"Social butterfly?" I asked, not responding to his question verbally as I took puffs of the cigarette.
"The first thing that came to mind," he shrugged, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him.
"Don't you have a class to get to, Captain?" I asked, sarcasm in my tone as he smirked at me. I made sure to blow the smoke away from his face as I spoke since I knew how much it pissed most people off.
"Don't you?" he retorted and I rolled my eyes, looking out at the rain-filled car park in front of me, "Where you going?"
"Don't know," I shrugged, not looking over at him as I spoke, "Can't stand being here but I can't be fucked walking home and back."
"Why don't you wanna be here?" he asked, his question sounding genuinely curious rather than prying.
"Because people can't shut their fucking mouths about me," I answered more harshly than intended before I looked to my right at him, noticing he was looking at the cigarette in my hand, "You want one?"
"Oh no. I don't- I've never..." he trailed off, shaking his head making me snicker to myself.
"Of course not," I mumbled, taking another hit before I let my right-hand drop to my side again, flicking the ash on the floor. Suddenly, the cigarette had been taken from my hand and Matt held it between his lips, taking a long drag.
He exhaled the smoke before he started coughing, holding his chest in the process making me chuckle at him. I took the cigarette from his hand, his cold rings brushing my fingers as I did so.
"You good?" I asked, amusement written on my face and he nodded, coughing lightly, "Went a bit hard for your first time there, pretty boy."
He had a pained look on his face as he looked over at me while I took another drag, looking out at the rain that didn't seem to stop, "How do you do that? It's not even enjoyable."
With a shrug, I said, "Just habitual at this point."
A silence fell between us for a few moments before Matt asked, "You hungry?"
"What?" I asked, pure confusion on my face as I looked at him and he pushed away from the wall.
"I wanna go to McDonald's. You might as well come with," he answered before swinging the door open to the school and walking inside. I stayed in my position, debating whether or not it's a good idea to go with him.
I didn't have any money on me but I also didn't want to stand here for the next few hours doing nothing so by the time he returned, backpack on his shoulder, I dropped the last of the cigarette on the ground. I squished it with my feet before turning to him.
"I don't have any money for food," I told him honestly and he waved me off as he grabbed his keys from his backpack.
"My treat," he answered quickly before he walked into the rain towards his car. I watched as his pace quickened and I bit my lip out of nervous habit. I shortly followed after him, jogging towards the car before I jumped in the passenger seat and swung the door closed behind me.
"I can pay you back tomorrow," I said as he started the car and he gave me a strange look as if he didn't know why I said that.
"It's just McDonald's. My bank account will live," he replied with a smirk and I shook my head.
"I'm fine to pay you back, I just don't have any money on me right now," I pushed further, never liking the idea of people buying things for me.
"Layla, I promise you it's fine. I asked if you were hungry, not if you had money to pay for your own food," he stated matter-of-factly and I pursed my lips before I slumped back into my seat. A brief pause was placed in the car before he said, "Seatbelt."
"Oh shit. Right," I clicked myself in quickly before he repeated the process of placing his right hand on my headrest, turning around and spinning the wheel with his left hand as he reversed.
"You can be on aux if you want," he said as he put the car in drive and we rolled out of the car park.
"I doubt you will like my music," I mumbled in response and he smirked, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road.
"Try me," he answered and I raised my eyebrows, grabbing my phone from my pocket and plugging it into the aux cable. I clicked on my most recent playlist, the first song being Message in a Bottle by the Police. I looked over at Matt to study his reaction to the music, his hand tapping against the wheel lightly along to the beat.
I hummed along to the song, looking out of the window at the rain pattering along the road. As we pulled into the cark park of McDonald's, the next song began playing which was Paper Machete by Queens of the Stone Age.
"What do you want?" Matt asked as we joined the back of the small queue of cars in the drive-thru, leaning his elbow on the window as he placed his head on his hand.
"Uh..." I trailed off, trying to think of what to get since I hadn't ordered fast food in a while, "Just a large fries is fine."
"You don't want anything else? Cheeseburger or nuggets or something?" he asked and I shrugged, "You like nuggets?"
"I don't mind them," I answered truthfully and he nodded.
"You want a drink?" he asked as we rolled up slowly, only one car in front of us before we had to order.
"Just a medium sweat tea is fine," I replied and he nodded before we rolled up to order.
Matt ordered what he wanted first before ordering my fries and sweat tea but I turned my head when he said, "Oh and can I get a 20-piece nuggets as well. Thanks."
With that, he rolled up to the next window and used his phone to pay for the food before we waited.
"Do you really need 20 nuggets?" I asked and he smirked at me, leaning against his hand again.
"No that's why you're gonna have some," he answered like it was obvious and I frowned. We pulled up to the last window, grabbing our food and Matt handed me the drinks to put in the cupholder before he gave them a quick thank you. He pulled into a car park and slid his seatbelt off.
"Give me the receipt," I held my hand in the middle of the car, sliding the seatbelt off my body and he held the bag in his lap.
"Why?" he asked with a squint of his eyes and I did small grabby-hands with my hand that was reached out.
"I wanna know how much it all was," I answered honestly and he shook his head.
"You don't need to. You're not paying me back," he said with a smile as he handed me one of the large fries from the bag and placed the nuggets on the console in between us.
"Matthew. Give me the receipt," I deadpanned and he grabbed the receipt out of the bag. I was waiting for him to hand it to me but instead, he started ripping it into pieces making me groan, "You're an asshole."
"I'm an asshole because I'm paying for your food?" he asked, a smile still on his lips as I frowned at him while he began eating his food.
"You're an asshole for not letting me pay you back," I mumbled in response as I started picking at my fries.
"Have a nugget and you'll forget all about it," he shrugged, sliding the nuggets towards me slightly and I rolled my eyes, reluctantly grabbing one from the box, "When do you wanna go back?"
"Never," I instinctually answered and he just looked at me, waiting for a real response, "I don't know. I need to go back for my last two periods."
"We can go back at lunch?" he asked and I nodded in response before I turned up the volume on the radio that was still playing music from my phone. The song that was now playing was Hypnotize by Biggie and I lip-synced silently to the words as I slowly ate my food, "So you do listen to rap."
"I listen to everything," I shrugged and he hummed suspiciously making me look at him with a squint, "What?"
"Nothin'," he shrugged, an amused look on his face, "Just hear people say that a lot and they listen to the same three genres."
"Give me a genre and I'll name at least three artists I listen to," I challenged and he chuckled before turning to face me more.
"Pop," he looked at me intently.
"Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, Beyonce," I answered easily and he nodded.
"Metal?"
"What kind of metal?" I asked, knowing he just group all heavier music together, "Nu metal would be Slipknot, Korn and Limp Bizkit. Death metal would be Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel and Blood Bath. Metal core would be Bring Me the Horizon, Parkway Drive and Trivium. Or heavy metal would be Black Sabbath, Pantera and Van Halen. Shall I go on?"
"Alright I got it," he chuckled before taking a sip of his drink as he thought again, "What about rap?"
"Tyler the Creator, Biggie and Trippie Red," I answered confidently and he nodded again.
"Jazz?" he asked and I snickered as he was struggling to think of more genres.
"Billie Holiday, Miles Davis and Nat King Cole," I had a cocky look on my face and he raised his eyebrows.
"Country," he stated, now looking as if he was trying to challenge me more.
"Kasey Musgraves, Zach Bryan and Shania Twain,"
"Grunge,"
"Soundgarden, Nirvana and Alice in Chains,"
"Reggae,"
"Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Jimmy Cliff,"
"Rock,"
"Foo Fighters, that's a big one, Lenny Kravitz and Fleetwood Mac,"
"Okay, I got no more. You win," he held his hand up in surrender with an amused look on his face.
"I mean I could keep going but I'll let you think about it for a while," I answered, a small smile on my lips triumphantly. He just stared at me for a moment, unmoving as he studied my face, "What? Do I have something on my face?"
I wiped my hands around my mouth and he shook his head with a smile, "No. I've just never seen you smile before."
"Oh," I let my smile drop, feeling slightly insecure as he stared at me.
"You should do it more," he shrugged as he threw his trash in the empty bag, "You have a pretty smile."
"Alright, stop gassing me up. I just proved you wrong on so many levels," I answered, brushing off his compliment as I felt my cheeks heat up.
"Yeah, you're right. Don't wanna make your ego too big, rockstar," He answered with a chuckle and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
"Rockstar?" I questioned, finishing the rest of my fries before throwing the trash in the bag he had now placed in the back seat.
With a shrug, he replied, "You like music a lot. Just seems fitting."
"You come up with the weirdest names," I stated and he smirked at me cockily.
"Don't think I didn't notice what you called me earlier," he said making me frown further in confusion, "When I was coughing my fucking lungs up. You called me pretty boy."
"At least the names I call you make sense," I rolled my eyes, trying to brush over the fact I called him that.
"So you think I'm pretty?" he asked, the mischievous look written across his face.
"Now whose ego is big," I raised my eyebrows, a small smile falling onto my lips.
"You're the one who said it!" he threw his hands out in front of him dramatically making me chuckle.
"It's fitting because you're conventionally attractive and that's why so many people love you," I shrugged, a smile still on my lips, "And plus you're captain of the hockey team. That always gets you far in popularity."
"You don't seem to care about popularity though," he stated, a questioning tone behind his words and I nodded.
"Why do you think I never talk to anyone?" I asked rhetorically before I looked out the window, "Yet people still love to talk about me."
"I mean..." Matt trailed off making me look back at him to see he was still looking at me, "I never really intended to be popular. I kinda hate it honestly."
"What's there to hate about being the most loved person in the school?" I asked with a distasteful chuckle.
"I only talk to my friends but everyone still loves to talk about me," he echoed my statement from earlier and I bit my bottom lip while nodding, "It's not all bad. Just gets annoying sometimes."
"At least people say nice things about you," I mumbled making his eyebrows furrow as he looked at me, adjusting his hair in his hat.
"Not always," he retorted making me look at him as I took a sip of my drink, "Especially with Chris being my brother and the fucking idiot he can be. Just because he's with a new girl every week, doesn't mean I am."
"Not as bad as people saying I killed my neighbour's cat," I raised my eyebrows and he pursed his lips, nodding in agreement.
"I can't argue with that one," he smiled a little bit as I bit my lip again, "How many piercings do you have?"
His sudden question threw me off but I answered regardless, "Nine."
"Wow," he seemed surprised and I now noticed the fact he had his ears pierced, the shiny silver earrings dangling from his ears.
"I have my septum, eyebrow, 3 in each ear and then my tongue," I stuck my tongue out to show him the silver bar that was through my tongue and he once again raised his eyebrows.
"Do you have any tattoos?" he asked and I nodded. Instead of explaining, I slid my leather jacket off and my black hoodie. I showed him the black and white tattoos that scattered across my arms, all for various different meanings.
"I also have a couple on my legs but kinda hard to show you those right now," I shrugged and he grabbed my wrist, pulling my left arm towards him gently as he looked at the permanent art on my skin.
"What's this one?" he asked, pointing to one of the bigger tattoos I had on my tricep.
"It's the welcome home cake from Coraline," I explained as his fingertips dragged over the tattoo raising goosebumps on my skin, studying it like he was genuinely intrigued, "My mum and I used to watch it a lot when I was little. It's always been my favourite movie."
"That's cool," he smiled at me, letting go of my wrist and I slid my hoodie back on, the cold air nipping at my skin, "I wanna get more tattoos. Where do you get yours?"
"Uh, one of my dad's friends did them. He's not licensed though so I'd recommend going somewhere that's professional," I smiled tightly before I realised I'd never noticed his tattoos, "I didn't know you had any tattoos."
"My parents said I have to wait till I graduate to get ones that are visible like on my arms and legs and stuff. But I have these on my hips," he lifted up the hem of his hoodie, sliding the waistband of his jeans down slightly to reveal two lightning bolts on either side of his waist travelling along his v-line.
"Oh wow," I took in a breath, feeling my face heat up as he slid the waistband back up and fixed the hem of his hoodie.
"I also have these on my collarbones," he announced as he pulled down the neckline of the hoodie to reveal a trail of leaves on either side of his collarbones.
I smirked as I looked at them before looking up at his face, "Big on the symmetry I see."
He shrugged in response before grabbing his drink and finishing the last of it, "I don't know what to get next."
"You gonna get any more piercings?" I asked, genuine curiosity in my words and he shrugged, "You should get a lip piercing."
"I'd have to wait till the seasons over if I get any piercings because I'd have to take it out before I play," he explained and I shrugged in response.
"It's only another month right?" I asked and he nodded in response, "Come with me when I get my lip pierced when the season is over then."
"You think a lip piercing would look good on me?" he asked, pulling his visor down to look at himself in the mirror.
"Mhm," I hummed in response as I looked at him inspecting his own face in the mirror, "Wait. I have an idea."
I unclipped one of my tiny hoop earrings from my ear, making sure to clean it a bit with the sleeve of my hoodie, "Look at me."
He turned to face me and I grabbed his chin to turn his head to the right further. I grabbed the small ring in between my fingers as he just stared at me before I mumbled, "I can't put it on if you have your mouth closed."
He let his jaw open, leaving his mouth ajar as I slid the ring over his lip. I moved it around, realising it didn't sit properly since it wasn't positioned on the inside of his lip correctly. I used my left thumb to pull his bottom lip down slightly and he looked at me intently while I slid the ring further down his lip till it looked satisfactory.
"There!" I nodded and he looked back to the mirror, tilting his head side to side to see if he liked it, "Perfect."
"Why get a piercing when I can just put on a fake one?" he asked with a smirk and I noticed the ring flash in the light as he turned to face me.
"Because fake piercings are corny," I deadpanned and he ran his tongue over the ring.
"It feels weird," he said before looking back at himself in the mirror, "But it does look good."
"Told you," I smiled at him and he shook his head with a smile on his lips.
"Should I leave it on when we go back to school and freak everyone out?" he asked, a mischievous look on his face as I pursed my lips with a nod, thinking of the shock on people's faces when the Matthew Sturniolo would walk into school with a lip piercing, or at least a fake one.
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo
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Beginnings
Chapter Ten of Home
Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader
Summary: a glance back
Warnings: some NSFW elements in this chapter
AN / so it looks like the chapters are going to be shorter than before but thatâs just because I can only keep my energy up for so long. I really do enjoy writing but itâs easier for me to write smaller chapters rather than like before. Also I know Suna hasnât been as present I promise we will be getting more of him soon! UNEDITED SORRY
Part Nine: Closure
You collapsed onto your bed immediately after getting home from lunch with Atsumu and you havenât moved for at least half an hour. Emotionally you were exhausted. Seeing him and thinking about him still caused a pang in your chest but that reunion was needed. You needed to start moving past him, that much you decided. He was your first love and he wounded you in a way that may never fully heal but now thereâs two amazing guys trying to help you move forward.
You let a long grown rubbing your hands over your face. This were complicated enough when you were still coming to terms with your felling with Hinata. God he must be wondering what the hell is going with you leaving with his teammate. Maybe Bokuto and Sakusa have already started filling in the blanks for him. You could see those idiots snickering to themselves when you had encountered the group earlier. A soft smile graced your lips thinking of those two. You missed those two, and their constant bickering. You had become close to the the team over the years. Having hosted several victory parties at your and Atsumuâs shared home.
A small tear slipped down your cheek running down your face as you lay staring at the ceiling. Just another thing you had lost because of the setter. You released the breath you hadnât realized you were holding. Shaking that thought from your mind it did no good to dwell on those things now. Thinking back to your favorite orange haired man you felt slightly nervous about having to explain everything to him. Sho is nowhere near as dumb as most think ,yes he tends to get a little over excited missing some details but heâs really quite clever, so heâs probably figured out most things. Itâs not like he wasnât aware of your past you had spilled that too him a lot quicker than you had planned. You can remember that moment clearly. It was the moment your feelings for Hinata had first started becoming deeper than you had intended, even though you denied them for a lot longer.
You stretched sitting up the soft cotton sheets falling your lap as you yawned searching searching the room for the familiar sight of Shoyoâs bright orange hair. You rose your brow at the lack of his presence. The small apartment was silent. Which made you draw the conclusion that he was not here, heâs to rambunctious to be home and not make any noise not that you minded. You had a clue where he could probably be and your suspicions were confirmed as you heard him enter through the front door. It surprised you the first morning it had happened but by now you are used to Hinata going for morning runs.
He stood in the door smile spreading across his face upon seeing you awake in this bed wearing only one of his old game shirts from Brazil. Your hair still a mess and the purple marks he left last night peaking out from the collar of the crew neck. It was certainly an amazing sight for him to come back to. He leaned against the door frame lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe some sweat from his face. Now it was your turn to appreciate the view. His abs and delicious v coming into sight. Grazing your eyes down to his workout shorts that fit nice and snug against his defined thighs. God his thighs were a blessing in and of themselves. After your quick glance you look back up to the eyes of the man in front of you.
âYou know Iâll never understand how you can have the energy to go running in the morning after the nights we have,â you chuckle.
A wide grin sneaks his way to his face â sorry Iâm not the one who can barely walk in the morning,â he winks.
Your jaw drops at his cheeky comment. â oh yeah weâll have to change that,â you state smug unsure where all of this confidence came from. Although you werenât expecting his response.
His eyebrow quirked at your insinuation, before smirking â alright that can be arranged sometime soon!â He chuckled enthusiastically.
Your eyes widened the scenario playing in your mind quickly.
Hinata loved the shocked but curious expression painting your features. The next thing you new Sho had bolted from his spot jumping into the bed knocking you onto your back as he hovered over you. His hot breath tickled your neck his lips grazing your pulse before giving a nip. One hand had sneaked under the shirt you wore grasping onto your hip while the other kneaded your breast. Your breath grew shaky. He lowered his head to the valley between your breast before looking up to you. Peering at you through his orange waves that dangled in his face.
âYou know I still have plenty of energy to take care of you,â he teased his voice dropping an octave. â so baby tell where do you want me.â
âI want you,â you bite your lip looking at the sinful man in front of you. Your hand grips his chin pulling him up to you face to face, your eyes drop to his lips before returning to his darkened eyes. âIn the shower, now get your sweaty ass off of me!â You push his Lunky body of off you before standing.
He groans looking over at you âtease!â He yells.
You turn back sticking your tongue out at him, â go shower loser im going to make some coffee and breakfast,â you yelled over your shoulder as you headed to the kitchen. Hinata enjoyed the view of you walking away before sighing in defeat, he was really grimy from his run, plus he could use a cold shower right now.
âââ
You moved around his small kitchen with an air of familiarity. It was about a little over a month since your agreement of friends with benefits began. After fixing a small breakfast and some coffee Shoyo finally emerged fully dressed and cleaned. Taking a sip from his mug and surveying the food you had made. He smiled.
âDamn Y/N this looks amazing!â He smile his signature smile. âYou know it surprise me how a girl like you is single!â He doesnât sense the mistake he had made immediately. You had never talked about why you didnât want to date before. Not feeling your tragic history with love was appropriate pillow talk. You froze at this statement. Unwanted thoughts and memories swirling in your mind. All of your insecurities starting to surface. Hinata noticed the shift in the air immediately. It was hard not to as your hands grabbed at the counter for some stability. Your eyes trained on the surface, voice caught in your throat. How do you respond to that.
If thereâs one thing about Hinata that is certain itâs thatâs heâs incredibly caring. He moved around the corner of the counter standing next to your side placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. âHey Y/N are you okay! Was it something I said? Iâm real sorry ya know!â You turn to him tears brimming in your eyes. He doesnât speak again or ask you to just pulling you into him as you bury your face into his chest as you sob. He places a reassuring hand your back rubbing soothing circles onto your back hoping to help calm you.
It feels nice and it helps a lot more than you expected. Although guilt starts to build as you realize your crying in front of a man you only know through sex. God this is embarrassing. Before you can try to retreat. Sho navigates you to his sofa. After relaxing into the cushions you look up at him. While heâs trying to look calm and reassuring you can sense the worry in him.
He takes this moment to speak. â you know you can talk to me Y/N Iâll listen to you about whatever you have going on, no judgment.â You sigh looking up at him. Looking up into his eyes you donât know why you arenât more hesitant but it honestly feels like you can tell him anything. And so you do. You tell him almost everything. Leaving out names and some of the more gory details. You tell him all about your heartache. And he sits and listens to you intently. Although he didnât show it he was furious with how you had been treated. But he didnât want to interrupt your venting. It felt really nice to actually talk to someone about everything and how you feel and Sho was amazingly supportive throughout the whole ordeal.
Wiping the mostly dried tears from your cheeks you gave Hinata a soft smile. â thank you Shoyo Iâm sorry I dropped all of this on you, it probably not what you signed up for.â You gave a nervous chuckle.
He returned your smile, looking at you earnestly, he gripped your shoulder gently making you look up at him. âHey none of that non sense! You can always talk to me no matter what!â He smiled.
Your eyes shinned up at him with a forgotten emotion. âReally?â You questioned
His smile grew even bigger âYeah! Absolutely! What are friends for!â He beamed!
Friends.... why did that word give you a pang in your chest.
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mutuals (pjmxreader) [bonus:celibacy]
~mutuals~ [youtuber!reader x idol!jimin] social media AU
synopsis: park jimin is a (slightly problematic) idol singer, and he becomes completely smitten with a youtuber after stumbling upon her dance cover to his own song.
genre: fluff, a good dosing of cracK, literally two seconds of angst blink and u miss it
word count: Â 2.3k
[A/N]: thank you for all the love youâve given mutuals! canât believe itâs only been like one week since this blog has been up hehE enjoy this drabble of thirsty!jimin after he found your video. if you have no idea what iâm talking about gO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER
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      When JinHit first hit record sales with the success of Jiminâs mini album, and RAPLINEâs first title single a couple years ago, Jin finally gave in to Jiminâs begging and gave all the artists their own personalised studio in the JinHit building. Itâs where all the greatest hits on the charts are written. Itâs practically the modern eighth wonder of the world, considering the names and talent that have graced the walls.Â
      Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon all have their separate studios to write, produce, and record in, and all three of the small rooms are located next to each other. Partially because of design and common sense, but also so all three friends can conveniently annoy each other when needed. Jinâs office isnât too far away either, just across the floor. Usually, if theyâre all working in the studio, theyâll walk over to Jinâs office during lunch hour and leech off his amazing personal pantry in his office. The office is much, much bigger than their studios, and Jimin never fails to remind Jin that.Â
      All three artists have grown a little attached to their studios. Itâs where they do what they all love most, after all. Yoongi barely lets anyone into his âGenius Labâ, and ever since a staff member accidentally messed with his coffee machine, he hasnât let anyone step foot in. Nobodyâs even allowed to come inside Namjoonâs studio during what he calls his ânamjoon talent timeâ which is basically just a period of time before comeback season where he locks himself in the studio, writing music 24/7.Â
      He occasionally asks Jimin to listen to his unreleased files for suggestions, but other than that, noone except Yoongi goes inside his studio during ânamjoon talent timeâ, and Namjoon only reluctantly lets him in as his bandmate. Not that Jimin minds, he hasnât been let inside since he accidentally mistook Joonâs studio for his own and brought one of his one-night-stands over. Joonie was horrified, and made Jimin sanitise, wash and clean every part of the room, all while he cried about how his âbaby was molestedâ. It was traumatising for both parties.Â
      Out of the three, Jiminâs the least protective over his studio, even though heâs the one who put the most effort into it. Heâs spent years perfecting it, making it the best place for inspiration and writing music. Everything in the studio has been personally chosen and thought out by him. The snacks and custom mini fridge, the wall of his entire discography, trophies, music awards, and his personal favourite, the official JIMIN logo sign above the couch.Â
      It lights up in purple.
      Despite being a pretty stereotypical assholey partying douche idol, Jiminâs likes to think heâs actually quite talented. Heâs been named âMost professional idolâ on every single online survey he can find (Heâs also always voted for âMost handsomeâ, but thatâs besides the point), and itâs true. Jimin never sells himself short. He is a professional musician, singer, and producer. He writes his own music, choreographs his own dancing, and uses his platform to spread positive, meaningful messages. Thereâs a reason heâs so internationally successful, and itâs because heâs talented.Â
      Maybe right now isnât a great example of his talent. Jimin was in his studio, holding his head in his hands. Sure, heâs a globally recognised and accomplished songwriter, but to be honest, he hadnât written a single piece of original JIMIN music since he wrote âFilterâ with Namjoon months ago. He was in the biggest creative slump in his entire career. He had tried almost everything, co-writing, exercise, music samples, playing around on instruments. Hell he even tried music therapy. Whatever melody he tried to create, whatever lyrics he tried to write, it all came out sounding like garbage.Â
      Yesterday was a little bit of a blow to Jiminâs ego. It was three in the morning, and heâd been in the studio for seven hours, with only one verse written.Â
I love to let loose,
Have you ever tried eating moose?
Itâs all so bananas,
Tony fucking Montana.Â
      Yeah, itâs pretty embarrassing. Itâs not even a verse, it looks more like a kindergartenerâs attempt to write poetry. For the first time in his life, he doesnât really feel like writing music or putting his thoughts in a song. Jimin is just plain out of ideas. He has nothing to write about. And if he doesnât have good content to put out, heâd rather not put anything out at all.Â
      But he still hates it. All his life, heâs coped by writing, singing and dancing. This writerâs block has been too frustrating. Too many sleepless nights and crumpled papers have been wasted over it, with no progress or music in result. Plus, Jin might be one of his closest friends, but Jin was also a boss, and he still needed more tracks for Jiminâs big comeback, happening end of the year.Â
      He canât help it. Jimin has nothing left to write about. He opened one eye when he heard the distant ding of his phone coming from somewhere in the studio. Grumbling incoherently, he opened the notification, to find⊠you.Â
      Jiminâs mouth was hanging open the entire video. His eyes twitched the tiniest bit and he almost dropped the phone when you said his face was âdecentâ, but he had to watch it again, because the first time around, he didnât hear a word that came out your damn mouth. He was otherwise⊠preoccupied. No matter how much he tried, he just couldnât tear his damn eyes off the screen. Curse Min Yoongi for sending him this.Â
      He even cringed when he had to bring his sleeve up to wipe the tiniest bit of drool off his face. Practically salivating. What the fuck? How old was he? He was Park Jimin, why was he popping a boner from watching some stranger on the internet dance to his songs? Heâs been in the industry for way too long now, he was practically immune to scantily clad women prancing around him. So why he completed concentrated on your stupid little crop top? Not to mention, you were practically insulting him at this point. What was so special?Â
      For one moment, Jimin forced his eyes off the screen, wondering if the sleep deprivation had really affected him that much, or if this was another side effect of the writerâs block heâs been having. Itâs the partying âclean actâ ban Jinâs been forcing me to go on, he thought, even though Jimin wasnât totally convinced of that. (Despite swearing not to, he looked straight back to down at his phone afterwards to reply the video.)Â
      He was so fixated on the screen, he didnât even notice when Yoongi flung the door open and walked inside. Jimin only lifted his head when he heard Yoongiâs obnoxiously loud groan.Â
      âWhat- When did you get here?â Yoongi recently went back to a fan-favourite hair colour of his, and Jimin was still not used to seeing him with bright mint coloured hair. In his opinion, he looked like a highlighter, but Yoongi seemed to not mind it.Â
      âIâve been standing here for the past two minutes, drinking my coffee. The fuck you watching on your phone thatâs got you drooling?âÂ
      âNOTHING.â Yoongi narrowed his eyes, and before Jimin could even move away, he managed to snatch the phone away from Jiminâs hands.Â
      âWhat the fuck- how? You know, this is why your fanbase thinks youâre a cat.â Yoongi ignored his words with ease. âOh my god,â He said. âAre you watching the video I sent you? I didnât expect you to actually watch it.âÂ
      âI always watch my fanâs videos after a comeback!â Jimin insisted, clawing upwards to steal his own phone back, but Yoongi kept slapping his hands away.Â
      âYeah, but this isnât a fan. This is just like, one of your fanboys and a girl roasting you.â Yoongi stared back at Jimin suspiciously when he tried to defend himself. âWhy were you watching this girl dance like a starving man, Chim?âÂ
      âJust, because- what- I was nOT watching her like a starving man. Donât look at me like Iâm some kind of a pervert!â Jimin finally managed to grab ahold of his phone again, and he threw it behind him on the couch, away from Yoongi.Â
      âHyung,â He sighed. âI think maybe itâs Jinâs new âclean, good boyâ rule. Along with this stupid fucking slump Iâve been having these days, I just donât feel great, okay? So donât be so fussy with me. I canât write, I canât party⊠If I want to ogle over some random girl on the internet, I will.â Jimin cringed once the words came out of his mouth, but Yoongi slowly nodded, sitting down on the couch.Â
      Min Yoongi may be a little too gay to understand Jiminâs womaniser ways, but the frustration behind not being able to write music, that, he understood. âYouâre trying to justify being a perv by using your mental problems, but Iâll talk to you about that later on.â
      âChim, we all have our slumps. Itâs honestly a wonder that this is your first serious creative block. Me and Joon, and every single artist in the world, is bound to go through that at some point. Itâs not the end. Youâll still be able to write good music soon, youâre a good writer.â Jimin refused to meet Yoongiâs eyes, even if what he was saying did make a little sense. He just chose to stay silent.Â
      âYou just have nothing left to write about. You canât keep living like this though, Chimmy. Itâs unhealthy.âÂ
      âWhat do you mean, unhealthy? Iâm perfectly fine, thank you.âÂ
      Yoongi stared at him deadpan, gesturing to the entire state of his studio. âItâs a complete mess in here,â He said. âPlus, I donât think youâve left this studio for days. The others may not want to say it to your face, but weâre all a bit worried about you. Stop forcing yourself to ingest all these redbulls to try to keep writing.âÂ
      âWhen inspiration comes, itâll come. You canât force it, it doesnât work that way. What you need, is a break. Go back home for once, maybe visit your mom. And for godâs sakes, take a shower please. Trust me, okay?â
      Yoongi doesnât like admitting it, but heâs the most caring one out of their friend group. Anyone can tell from the look in his eyes right now, that heâs genuinely concerned about his friend. Heâs also the one with most sense, but Jimin will never tell him that, because his advice, no matter how sensible, is useless.Â
      All heâs known is singing, writing, and throwing himself in work. To just stop? Even if itâs to take a short break, it doesnât feel right to Jimin. Instead of telling Yoongi his problems, he just poked his tongue in his cheek. If lightbulbs actually popped up above peopleâs heads when they had a good idea, a massive one wouldâve appeared on top of Jiminâs.Â
      âIâve got it!â He said, excitedly. Yoongi sat up straight. âYouâre going to take my advice for once?â
      âNo, of course not, Hyung. Donât be silly.â Yoongi slouched his back again, closing his eyes.Â
      âIâll just hit this girl up!â Yoongiâs eyes snapped open.Â
      âWhat.âÂ
      âYeah! Who knows, yâknow? Maybe Iâve been keeping myself to Jinâs rules a little too well. It wonât hurt the company if I let myself go just once. Blow off some steam, come back fresh and recharged.â Jimin rubbed his hands together like a bad Disney villain.Â
      âItâs too early for this.â Yoongi whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
      âItâs three in the afternoon.â Yoongi ignored him.Â
      âYou really arenât going to take my advice, huh.âÂ
      âNope!â Jimin said, popping the âpâ annoyingly.Â
      âYou promised Jin youâd go celibate.â
      âI said Iâd clean up the partying act. I donât recall taking a vow of celibacy.â Yoongi just sighed, and fell back down on the sofa, mindlessly sipping at his coffee.Â
      Jimin hesitated. âYouâre not going to⊠tell me not to? Or give me another one of your eco-feminist speeches again?â Yoongi shrugged.Â
      âYouâve heard it too many times. Plus, I have a feeling this is going to be funny.âÂ
      âFunny? Hyung, what part of this could possible be funny to you?â There was a brief pause filled with awkward silence, before Yoongi blinked slowly.Â
      âWhen she rejects you, of course.â Jimin threw his jacket, aimed straight for Yoongiâs head. His stupidly fast cat-like reflexes managed to dodge it, but Jimin scowled at him nonetheless.Â
      âSheâs not going to reject me.â Jimin walked over, picking up the very same jacket he threw at Yoongi, before plopping his sunglasses back on his face. âNo woman has ever managed to reject me before, and I intend on adding her to that list.â He pursed his lips.Â
      âPlus, sheâs super hot. Great ass. Attractive people attract attractive people.â Jimin turned his phone back on once more to sneak one last peek at you in the thumbnail of the video, before stuffing his phone into his back pocket. âI just need to get it out of my system. This might be what I need to get me out of this creative rut!â
      He couldâve sworn Yoongi muttered something under his breath, something along the lines of âfucking assholeâ, but he chose to ignore it.Â
      âAlright, well, see you, Yoons!â Jimin practically skipped out of the studio, startling the producerâs assistant outside with his slightly disturbing enlarged grin.Â
      âDonât come crying to me when she refuses to get in your pants, you fucking diva!â
      Jimin continued walking towards the elevator, but he threw up his middle finger behind him.Â
âDONâT RUIN MY EXIT, BITCH!âÂ
[taglist:] @notmontae97ââ @lucedelsole97â
#bts#bangtan#bangtanboys#bangtan soyeondan#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#bts fanfiction#bts sm#bts fake texts#bts sm au#bts au#idol!au#park jimin fanfiction#park jimin fic#jimin fic#jimin drabble#jimin fluff#bts crack#jimin x reader#taekook#vkook#taekook au#jimin au#mutuals#jimin hcs
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Vermilion. (m)
âł chapter twenty-two:Â baby steps
⧠genre:  pro-heroâs bakugou/kirishima, poly, happy ending
⧠chapter warnings:Â
[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]
âDo you have everything?â
You asked, walking Bakugou out to the blacked out SUV that waited in front of your shared home.
He opened the backseat door and tossed his bags in, closing it and turned to you with a smirk on his face, crossing his arms and leaning against the vehicle.
âYeah princess I got everything. Do you have everything you need for shitty hair in there?â He asked nodding his head in the direction of the house.
âMhm, I picked up all his meds this morning and got enough groceries to where I can just stay home with him 24/7 until heâs better.â
âWell that sounds fucking exhausting.â
The driver honked the horn and Bakugou growled, opening the door and yelling profanities at the poor guy, telling him to calm the fuck down and not rush him.
You smirked and waited for the hero to get everything out of his system. He was going out of town on a mission for a few days, leaving you and Kirishima behind. The red-head had come down with a bad cold and wouldnât have been able to go in the condition he was in. Bakugou was actually thrilled to take the mission, meaning he would be as far away from his friends germs and sickness as possible. But at the same time he wasnât so thrilled because it meant being away from you for more than a few hours. Katsuki finally finished his tantrum and slammed the door shut, turning to face you again.
âAlright brat, I gotta go. Come here!â
Bakugou pulled you into his arms, embracing you tightly. Your arms wrapped under his and around his body as your face nuzzled in his chest. For some reason it was always harder to say goodbye when your explosive boyfriend left for these trips, youâd miss him like crazy every time and feel like you would die before he returned home. His hand pet the back of your hair and he kissed the side of your head. You took multiple deep inhales of his scent, that sweet and indulgent smell you loved so much.
âIâm gonna miss you Suki, so much.â
âItâs only two days (Y/N), youâll be fine,â he broke the hug and pulled you from him, getting a better look at your sad face. âBut Iâm sure Iâll miss you more.â
You smiled softly and leaned closer, making your foreheads touch as one of his hands cupped your cheek and the other played with the crescent pendant that hung from your throat. Since receiving the gift, the necklace became a part of your skin, you only ever took it off to shower.Â
Katsuki could tell you were putting on a strong front for him and he hated to leave you feeling low. He thought hard about how he could lighten the mood, since doing so wasn't exactly his forte as much as it was Kirishima's. Suddenly, this one extremely cheesy thing came to his head. He looked at you, hesitant on if he should even try it out or not, it was out of character for him but he had a feeling you'd get a kick out of it.
âHey, did you know I can hold the entire world in my hands?â
You quirked a brow at the blonde and rolled your eyes, âLook Suki, I love you and all and I love how you have these massive dreams but no you canât.â
âYes I can,â he smirked with shimmering red eyes.
âCanât!â You retorted and pulled your face back.
Bakugou chuckled and cupped your face in his large and warm hands, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. Shocked at how tender and soft it was, you hummed as your eyes fluttered shut and kissed back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. You would miss his warm and sweet tasting lips in the days to come so you savored every second. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his lips not wanting to let go of yours as if they were his oxygen. He sucked in your bottom lip lightly and rolled it between his teeth as he hesitantly broke the interaction. You were breathless but still smiled as your eyes met. He smiled back pridefully, his hands still holding your face as he gently shook it side to side.
âCan!â
You awed and clutched your heart as Bakugou rolled his eyes but smiled at his success. It was the corniest yet sweetest thing the blonde had ever said to you, overwhelmed by his newfound sweetness you kissed him again. The horn honked and Bakugou slammed a middle finger to the window. You laughed and hugged him one last time and made him promise to call once he got to his hotel. You went to break away from him as your hand slowly slipped from his grip but he jerked you back one last time for one last kiss.
âI love you princess, so fucking much.â
âI love you too Suki, even more!â
Kirishima laid passed out on the couch while you cooked him soup for dinner. All day he slipped in and out of sleep from exhaustion caused by his fever. Youâd only wake him to give him medicine and make sure he drank a lot of liquids before you would rub his head until he passed out again. It had been a day since Bakugou left and the house was quiet and boring. The free time let you catch up on a lot of mangaâs and anime shows that you had slacked on until there wasnât anything else left. Sighing as you quietly listened to music while cooking, your ears perked once you heard Kirishima stirring awake. Looking over your shoulder you could see him sitting up and groaning as he placed his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees.
A hand ran through his dirty and messy red locks that dangled in his face. You smiled watching him and telling just by his body language that he was slowly starting to feel better. Your small feeling of boredom and loneliness suddenly subsided as he stood from the couch and stretched. The muscles of his back flexed and moved under his flushed skin and he hardened his body. It was something he did after resting really well as if it were like a move to really stretch out his tired body. Deactivating his quirk he sighed and looked around the room, unaware that you were just in the kitchen.
âIâm over here Red,â you called out.
He turned around and a tired yet heart melting sharp-toothed grin crossed his face, making you smile in return. He made his way from the living room and into the kitchen, his sweats hanging low on his hips. Even for being sick the past three days he still looked breathtaking. You turned back around and continued stirring the soup while he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. His body was extremely warm against yours and felt amazing considering you had been touch deprived since Katsuki left.
âHow long have I been out?â
âWell letâs see you left work Thursday afternoon and went straight to bed and today is Saturday. Youâve been sleeping on and off, only waking up for maybe an hour or two at a time.â
âDamn, Saturday huh? So Bakugou already left?â
You pouted and nodded your head, suddenly remembering your blonde lover again. Kirishima noticed your mood change and placed a kiss to your cheek and squeezed you tightly.
âHey mama, heâll be back tomorrow night. You know he always ends up coming home the second heâs done with a mission and doesnât even bother with waiting till the next day.â
âYeah, youâre right. Iâm sorry Kiri ... you know, if my missing him ever makes you feel bad. You always have to cheer me up when heâs gone and Iâm sure it must make you feel like chopped liver or something. I much rather have both of you here is all.â
âDonât apologize baby girl, Iâd be worried if you didnât miss him. Plus, I enjoy making you happy, itâs my job remember?â
Smiling, you nodded and craned your neck to kiss his cheek. After turning the burner off you turned to face him and put the back of your hand to his forehead feeling his temperature. It was a lot cooler than it had been and his body was probably just warm from the pile of blankets he was buried under.
âWell you look better and your temperature has gone down, how do you feel?â
âI feel a lot better, Iâm not as exhausted. My head is a little foggy but Iâm sure itâs just from me being out of it for almost three days. Is the food done, Iâm starving!â
Kissing his cheek again you nodded and he proceeded to get dishes and silverware for the both of you. After making your own bowls you sat down together at the table. Eijirou pulled your chair closer to his and you propped a leg in his lap as you both ate and talked. It was the first time you had held a conversation with him since he was out for the count the other night.Â
Your mood was improving with each second spent with him. He told you about all his crazy feverish dreams he had, one was about medium dog sized guinea pigs chasing him around the backyard and another was about a zombie apocalypse. You laughed at how odd his dreams were and he relished in hearing your laugh after so long.
Kirishima leaned over and cupped your cheek then pulled you in for a long sweet kiss. Your own free hand wrapped around the side of his neck, your thumb brushing his jawline. After the kiss broke he placed a peck to your forehead and went back to eating. The random kiss wasnât unwelcome at all but it was out of nowhere.
âWhat was that for Kiri?â You chuckled and took a bite of soup, biting down on the spoon as you pulled it from your mouth.
The red-head winced at the sight, both men hated how youâd do that with your silverware. Kirishima never commanded you to stop though but Bakugou would go on about how the sound of teeth scrapping against metal would drive him up the fucking wall, only making you do the act more and with more emphasis.
âJust because I havenât kissed you like that in what feels like ages, and to thank you for taking care of me. I may have been out of it but I know you gave me all my meds and fluids, and dealt with my whining when I wanted to be held or cuddled. I donât know what Iâd do without you (Y/N), I love you so much.â
âHmm, what was that you said to me a while ago? Ah, itâs my job! Plus, itâs the least I could do after everything you and Blasty have done and still do for me. I donât know what Iâd do without you either Kiri, honestly. Iâd probably be fucking lost! I love you too, even more!â
Kirishima playfully rolled his eyes at your last words, as if he were trying to challenge you but he let it be. After eating, he helped you clean and put everything up and you agreed to take a bath together. Since the man had been passed out for the past few days he never had the energy to really have a deep shower, other than just jumping in and jumping out. Since he had you all to himself for another night he requested to just relax and soak in the tub with you.
The two of you sat facing each other, your legs wrapped around him as you both laughed and played Red Hands. Each time either of you would go to slap the top of the others hands, water would splash in your faces throwing off the other person. Kiriâs hands were bigger than yours and caused for you to maneuver around more area and slowing you down. Every now and then though heâd âslipâ up and let you hit him, always so proud of yourself when you succeeded. You enjoyed baths with Kirishima, granted he was the only one that would take them with you. Bakugou had this vendetta against being submerged in water, basically because of its effects on his quirk but itâs not like he needed it to take a bath.
âThis time watch my eyes Kiri, donât look down!â You teased and challenged.
With a smirk Kirishima did as instructed, his crimson orbs staring into your soul with a quirked brow as he tried to slap your hands. So far you were doing good at dodging until he finally caught you. His hit had a lot more power behind it this time than usual, your eyes widened as the skin on the top of your hands stung and you yelped. Eijirouâs own eyes widened and he looked down to see the red skin of your hands and he quickly yet gently took your palms in his.
âDammit, Iâm so sorry (Y/N). You know I forget my own strength sometimes and I was just in the â huh?â
He looked up to see you laughing, to the point were small tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You shook your head and covered your mouth, snorting in the process. As worried as your boyfriend was he chuckled at the embarrassing sounds you made.
âWhy are you laughing! There's nothing funny about me hurting you!â
âKiri, you didnât hurt me. I mean it shocked me but it was just an accident. Iâm obviously fine, scouts honor,â you replied holding up two fingers.
Sighing, Kiri placed your red and scarred hands to his lips, gently kissing them and placing them under the water to try and soothe the stinging. He pulled you into his chest, turning you around in the process and laid back against the tub with you in his arms and stretched out. His legs bent at the knee since he was a bit longer than the enclosure and you sat between his legs. Your back flushed against his hard and warm chest as you cuddled up in his embrace and hummed, kissing his forearms and resting your head on him. He sighed as his body relaxed and kissed the top of your head enjoying the silence with you for the rest of the bath.
Bakugou groaned as he plopped down on the hotel bed the second he walked into the door of his room. He had been going nonstop since he arrived for his mission, his body was tired, his arms sore from overusing them.Â
Taking out the cell from his pocket he smiled when the lock screen lit up.
Bakugou may not seem like the sentimental or lovey dovey type but heâd be damned if he didnât have a picture of you on his phone. He wasnât much for taking them himself so youâd always have to sneak them or Kirishima would be the one to secretly take them and send to him. The picture he loved most was one you had surprised him with, after running up on him out of nowhere in his bathroom and latching to his back almost knocking the wind out of him. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth and growled at you for how dangerous that situation couldâve turned out. You didnât care and pressed a kiss to his cheek as he managed to hold you on his back while still brushing his teeth.
His phone was right next to him on the counter and you swiped it, turning on the camera and taking pictures in the mirror. For some reason he was in a good mood that day and went along with it. Sticking his pointed tongue out and baring his teeth with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and holding up a middle finger, you mocked his pose, baring your own teeth with exaggerated eyes and took a picture.
âWeâre double trouble huh Suki,â you giggled and kissed his neck.
It was a dumb name to tag yourselves with but he liked it. Remembering the flash back made him chuckle as he started to miss you even more. He used to love going on out of town missions - that was until you became a part of his life.
The blonde would never truly admit to you how insane heâd feel, like he was going crazy from being miles and miles away. It always ate away at him seeing your reaction when heâd leave, it never got easier to leave you in fact. Bakugou didnât truly understand either why youâd get all worked up over his departures, it wasnât like you were alone. You had that red-headed idiot.
You and Kirishima were almost conjoined at the hip, always smiling and laughing, joking and holding conversations about anything. Bakugou was always secretly jealous about how the two of you had your own sort of universal language or inside jokes. Of course Bakugou made you giggle and chuckle but he canât think of any point in the past half year that heâs legit made you just belly laugh. That trick at the bowling alley didnât count because Eijirou helped. Katsuki didnât hate the relationship he had with you, but he definitely felt like it could be more.
The two of your were great at working together in the field, always motivating and pushing the other to fight on or grow more. You kept each other on your toes and wouldnât let the other slack. Then there was the amazing sexual chemistry you had together, nothing was wrong in that department at all. But he wanted more, he wanted to make you laugh like a maniac and have inside jokes too. He wanted to hold deep and meaningful conversations with you and learn more about the girl he was in love with. Bakugou couldnât get enough of you at times and hated the awkward or long silences that would build between you.Â
All he had to do was ask you though, he knew if he just sat you down and said âtell me something I donât know about you,â that youâd happily entertain him and probably wouldnât shut up. Sure relationships are a two way street but he also thought about how he comes off as a person. Even though you've learned how to handle him and take him, heâs still changed in so many ways on the inside that you werenât even aware of. So how could he expect you to know that he craved your attention and time, that he craved to have special and sometimes dumb jokes or gestures with you.
âHow is it so fucking easy for that spiky haired idiot?â Katsuki questioned himself.
Lost in so many deep thoughts, the blonde was startled when his phone started ringing. Seeing your name he instantly picked it up but tried his best not to sound too enthusiastic.
âWhat do you want brat?â
âUh â hello to you too Baka-gou!â
Rolling his eyes the blonde sighed, realizing that maybe learning to not be so brash and hide his excitement may be a good starting point.Â
âSorry princess â I uh, just had a long day. Whatâs up, do you need something?â
âNo, I haven't heard from you much and I wanted to hear your voice. If youâre tired though you should go to sleep, Iâm sure you kicked a lot of ass today.â
Bakugou chuckled and thought about whether he should tell you yes or no. The tone of your voice did sound upset once you mentioned letting him go, so that let him know that you really didnât want him to.
âMaybe I did, if you want, I could tell you about my day and in return I guess Iâll listen to how yours went?â
For some reason Katsukiâs heart beat a little faster and he got nervous as he asked such a normal and mundane question. He usually never really asked about how your days were but he knew that would kick off some sort of conversation.
âEven if it is baby steps, Iâll get there. Iâll be as close to her as Kirishima,â he thought to himself with a determined look.Â
A sweet hum could be heard on your end of the call, as if you were thinking really hard. Bakugou smirked and awaited your reply.
âMy day wasnât very exciting, but Iâd really love to hear more about yours Suki.â
#vermilion#bakugou x reader x kirishima#kirishima x reader x bakugou#katsuki bakugou x reader#kirishima eijirou x reader#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#polyamory#poly relationship#xreader#reader insert
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The Same - Chapter 6 - 8/8 (final)
The next morning, Malcolm stands in his father's cell. A guard next to him. His father is wearing wireless headphones, and he's stuck staring at his back.
The way his muscles rippled in his back as he wrote.. he wasn't wearing his sweater this time. Just the clean, white of his psychiatric uniform. His father was definitely quite older, but he wasn't any less attractive.
His curls are so defined, Malcolm thinks as he turns around.
"Malcolm! How long have you been here?" Doctor Whitly asks, the guard leaving and closing the door behind him.
He stares at his father, the memory of his warm hand over his making the skin on his knuckles tingle.
"Tell me about the girl in the box." He says simply, hands at his sides.
His father groans loudly, and Malcolm ignores how body reacts to the sound. "Oh, this again."
Doctor Whitly clears his throat. "There wasn't any girl. There couldn't be."
"There was. I remember her." Malcolm is firm, wanting to grab his father's shoulders and shake him.
"Your dreams..." His legs cross in his chair, and he looks amused.
"They're not dreams. They're memories. After I found her, you drugged me. And that gave you just enough time toâŠ"
"To what, kill her? Hmm? Chop her up? And what did you do? During this missing time." Malcolm flinches, guilt weighing him down. He glowers at his father, lips curling into a sneer.
"I don't know."
"Ah." His father chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Be careful, Malcolm."
"If you didn't call the cops after you found the girl, then how long did it take you to make that call? Days? Weeks? Months? How many other people died? And why can't you remember?" His thick eyebrows raise as he stares up at his son.
"Perhaps it's better if you don't."
Malcolm's heart is bleeding onto the floor. Tears burn his eyes. He won't let his father see him crying. He hadn't cried when his father was taken away. Only after, when he couldn't see.
The lock buzzes, the latch on the door clicking.
"Don't worry, Dr. Whitly. I plan to find out."
Just before the door clicks and locks, Malcolm hears a smug. "Good for you."
---------
He spends the day feeling sick and lethargic. Vomiting several times, the sight of his mother violating his father's mouth.
The smell of chloroform lingering around his apartment, phantoms pains in his throat and mouth.
He manages to eat half a container of yogurt before vomiting. It didn't hurt as bad after, as he wasn't throwing up pure acid.
In between episodes, he manages to eat light things. Banana's. Yogurt. Chicken broth with crackers.
Malcolm has adapted to his PTSD over the years, knowing how to deal with his symptoms.
It's difficult. His phone buzzes all day, texts from Gil and Dani and Ainsley.
He can't bring himself to tell them what's happening. All he sends is a text reassuring everyone that he's fine, just resting for the day. No one needs to come over. He's fine.
He's not, though.
Near the end of the night, after he's thrown up once more in disgust, Malcolm lays on the cold linoleum floor.
His chest hurting like no other. Doctor Whitly could be so cruel when he wanted to be. The small boy inside Malcolm is whimpering in pain. He lets himself slip into that headspace in his vunerable state, shivering on the floor.
He wants his father to love him. Something inside of Malcolm wanted him to obey his every wish, listen to what he said. Wanted praise from him. Hugs and warm cups of hot chocolate. Soft kisses and bubble baths.
He and his father were similar in so many ways. Malcolm wondered if that made his father proud, to see how affected he was by his influence and his presence.
Malcolm doesn't allow himself to indulge in that train of thought for long. When he gets up from the floor, he is half hard against his thigh. He heads to his bed.
Wrapping the blankets around him in a crude impression of a hug.
Grabbing his phone, Malcolm stares at his lock screen for the longest time, before unlocking it and staring at his browser.
'BDSM clubs in New York'
Something easy about the scene was that it was surprising tender in the aftercare, if you found the right person.
His best memory (after his first time) was being in full restraints. Completely deprived of his senses. One would think that Malcolm would panic, but it calmed him like anything else.
His dom had brought him to the edge over and over, never letting him fall over. When it was over, Malcolm was kissed in a way that made him feel incredibly cherished.
The only time he had ever felt like was when his father held him after a nightmare as a child.
He had thought that he wasn't as fucked up as he thought, that he could be happy with someone other than his own father.
His wish was crushed when that same Dom broke up with him six months later, calling him "unstable" and "unsafe". Malcolm decided to forego relationships all together after that, and hadn't done more than one night stands and purely sexual relationships since.
Malcolm wonders if he can find someone that will deal with his PTSD and let him call them Daddy.
Face flushed red, he turns his phone off.
He could do more research later. For now, all he wanted to think about public pools of bowls of watermelon on hot summer days. No murder. No drugging. No conflicting feelings.
------
After Malcolm leaves Martin, phone time begins. The doctor had planned for this, looking at the clock. "Hello, David." He says as the guard enters with the phone and sets it down.
The guard is just sitting down in the folding chair when the door unlocks and another guard sticks his head in, panicked.
"David, #3457 is going crazy. You need to get in there and calm down, you know they only trust you." David jumps to his feet, and the two guards leave together.
Martin smirks. Distraction successful.
He punches in the number, settling back in his chair.
"This is Andan."
Martin grins. "Andan, this is Doctor Martin Whitly."
"H..hello, Dr. Whitly. Do you need something?" Oh, how he loved hearing fear in people's voice.
"As a matter of fact, I do. I need you to forego all your other jobs for this one."
"I.. of course, sir. What do you need me to do?" Andan asks, and there's the shuffling of paper.
"I need you to keep tabs on my son. 24/7. I expect a daily report at 4:30 each day, with extensive details on what he's doing, who he's talking to, how his eating and sleeping habits are."
There's silence on the other end.
"Andan?" He asks, tone dark
"..Yes, of course, Doctor. Consider it already done. Daily reports. 24/7. Got it."
Martin smiles. Everything was so much easier now that he was a known, notorious serial killer.
"Good. Don't let him see you. He's very aware of his surroundings."
By the time David comes back, Dr. Whitly is sitting on his bed, reading his copy of Peter Pan.
-----
After calming #3457, David headed to the nearest phone, figuring his report was slightly overdue. It had been 3 hours since Malcolm had left.
He picked up the receiver, typing in the appropriate number.
"You asked me to call." The guard says.
"He came back?" Jessica Whitly asks, and David hums.
"Yeah, he just left."
"Thank you, David. That's good to know." The woman hangs up and he sighs, replacing the phone on it's jack.
Heading back to the Doctor's cell to watch the door.
In upstate New York, Jessica violently throws her cell phone, the device smashing into pieces.
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All I Really Want is You (Spideypool) - Chapter Ten
Find the Masterlist for this fic here! Read this fic on AO3! Check out my Ko-Fi if you would like a commission!
Summary:Â âWho are you, the big bad wolf?â She snarked. She mentally congratulated herself that her voice hadnât betrayed the fluttering in her gut.
âWhy donât you come a little closer and find out?â
Peter Parker is an exhausted and overworked student in her senior year of college. Sleep-deprived and running on coffee and fumes, Peter really just wants to get through this semester. On a rare coffee run to ensure that she doesn't fall asleep on patrol or in her textbooks again, she quite literally stumbles upon Deadpool. Try as she might, she just can't stay away from him, and along the way, she finds herself in the middle of a nefarious plot between HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.
A/N: Hello, everyone! Todayâs chapter is Chapter Ten: This Side of Paradise. This chapter is named after the song This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory.Â
As always, there is a playlist for this fic, and you can find it on YouTube and Spotify. Spotify wonât play in order unless you have Spotify Premium. You donât need to listen to it in order, but each chapter has a specific song associated with it. There is also a song associated with the entire fic, which is She Looks So Perfect by 5 Seconds of Summer.
If you liked this chapter, like, share, and reblog, and please leave comments! They make my day, and I will gladly respond. You can also head over to my AO3 and comment there, and I will also respond there! Enjoy!
Chapter Ten: This Side of Paradise
Chapter Summary: Peter receives her first text from Wade, and Spider-Woman and Deadpool work together to stop a group of bullies.Â
It didnât take Peter long to wake up Sunday afternoon. Sheâd gotten plenty of sleep the night before, and for the first time in a long time, she felt rested when she opened her eyes. She still wasnât ready to leave the warmth of her bed though, so she just grabbed her phone off the nightstand and huddled up beneath the blankets.
As she opened up her phone to respond to one of MJâs texts, she vaguely remembered her burner phone going off as she climbed into bed last night. She stuck her arm out of her blankets and blindly reached around for her other phone. After searching for a few seconds, she found it and dragged that beneath her blankets as well. She felt very content as she opened up her burner phone, flipping through it to get to her messages. She was content, and yet, she felt like something was missing. Not something, but someone . Someone that was tall and huge and usually dressed in a black and red suit and who Peter just knew would fit cuddled up against her back.
But Peter was alone in her bed, and that was very unlikely to change in the near future. So to distract herself from the slow creeping of loneliness, she pulled up her messages on her phone.
She expected the text she had gotten the night before to be from Natasha. She had talked with her yesterday, after all, and it was possible that the spy wanted an update on Peterâs situation with Wade. But, it wasnât from Natasha.
It was from Wade.
âOh, fuck, fuck, fuck,â Peter whispered, wiping the last dregs of sleep from her eyes. Her heart started to race, and she wished that her eyesight would stop being so blurry. It had been years since she had last needed glasses, thanks to the spider that so kindly bit her, but that never stopped the blurriness that came from sleep.
She couldnât get her heart to stop beating so fast, and the anxiety in her veins that accompanied her rapid heart rate was almost like a distant, familiar friend. She didnât feel like she was having a panic attack; she could still breathe normally, and her senses werenât acting up. Maybe it was a stroke? Was she having a stroke? Surely, she was too young to have a stroke, right?
âCalm the fuck down,â Peter hissed at herself, blinking rapidly as her sight finally adjusted. Fuck, fuck, okay.
Peter clicked on the new text, and the anxiety stopped just as quickly as it had started.
âYou have got to be kidding me,â she whispered in disbelief, her eyes scanning over the message again.
this is ur daily msg from ur friendly neighborhood deadpool, here 2 tell u 2 get ur perfect ass in bed! reminder: it is recommended that cute lil bun-buns (like urself) get 7-9 hours of sleep. :)
Peter didnât know what she was expecting from Wadeâs text, but that certainly wasnât it. Before she could stop herself, her fingers were flying across the keyboard, her thumb tapping âsendâ within a matter of seconds. Realizing what she had done, Peter blinked, groaned, and flopped back on her back. She really wished that life had an undo button.
And this is your daily reminder from your friendly neighborhood Peter, here to tell you that I can function plenty on limited sleep. It is recommended that friendly neighborhood Wadeâs (like yourself) go to sleep instead of bothering friendly neighborhood Peterâs.
She had never been good at texting or flirting, but as she reread her message for the third time, she wondered when she had gotten so bad at it. Peter shrieked as her burner phone buzzed in her hands. She dropped it in her pile of covers, and she spent a good fifteen seconds trying to fish it from the depths of her blankets. Prize in hand, Peter leaned against the headboard, swiping to open Wadeâs newest message.
some1 is grumpy, did u not listen to ur friendly neighborhood dp and get enough sleep????
Peter just rolled her eyes and fired back with two words.
Bite. Me.
Much to Peterâs surprise - because for some reason, she was still surprised every time Wade so much as looked at her in a flirty way, let alone all of the shit that he actually said - Wadeâs reaction was just risque as it had been the night before when Peter had said those exact same words.
iâd be careful if i were u lil girl
Iâm not scared of you.
no, ur not. but u might be scared of what iâll do to u. isnât that right, peter?
Peterâs world was on fire. Wadeâs texting shorthand had not done anything to take away from the heat of his words. A deep growl rang in her ears as she remembered how Wade had sounded yesterday when she had told him her real name. Arousal settled low in her gut, slowly warming her from the inside out. She shifted her legs on the bed, a nearly-silent whine escaping her throat as the seam of her shorts rubbed against her core.
all jokes aside bambie u should sleep more. sleep = good 4 u.
And just like that, the heat was gone from their conversation. Wade was giving Peter whiplash; one minute he was joking, the next he was turning her on like there was no tomorrow, and then he was back to joking around again. She couldnât figure him out. Â
She continued their friendly banter for a few more minutes before getting up and moving around her bedroom. She had finished all of her assignments the day before, but she needed to study for tests that were coming up in nearly all of her classes. Not to mention that she wanted to go patrolling again tonight; she had liked her longer patrol yesterday, and she was eager to do it again.
Peter kept her conversation with Wade steady throughout the rest of the day. She managed to resist the urge to immediately text him back every time her phone vibrated, but only barely. She had to give herself scheduled breaks in her studying to check her phone and respond accordingly. When late afternoon came, she switched gears from studying to trying to research more into HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D., but she was so distracted by Wade that she didnât get any productive work done. She did get to see some pretty cute dogs just chilling in Central Park, though, so she didnât think it was a huge waste of time.
At one point in the day, Wadeâs comments turned more sentimental, immediately drawing Peterâs interest and suspicion.
u seem so lonely. r u lonely?????
What?
if ur lonely, cum b lonely w/me ;)
He was such a romantic.
Eventually, 8:00 PM rolled around, and Peter reluctantly put her phone away in favor of pulling on her suit. She tucked her phone into the pocket sheâd once designed for that exact purpose, and then she was climbing out of her window and into the night.
Peterâs phone buzzed in her pocket as she swung across town, but she ignored it, relishing the feeling of the cold New York air against her skin. She had switched out her usual suit a few days ago for the insulated one that she only wore during the winter. It trapped her body heat inside of it, ensuring she didnât freeze during New Yorkâs brutal winters.
Peter swung closer to the ground, throwing webs at streetlamps so she didnât end up splattered in a puddle of Peter. She hadnât been out long, but already, her spidey-senses were alerting her of some sort of danger in the nearby vicinity. The prickling on the back of her neck became more intense as she rounded the corner, and she landed on the side of a building before crawling into an alleyway.
In the alley were three big, buff dudes surrounding a very small, lanky boy. He couldnât have been older than 13, and the other guys were clearly in their early 20âs. The boy was shaking, and Peter could see the rips in his clothing. She glared at the sight; if there was something that she never tolerated, it was bullies.
âI-I told you! I can get it next week!â the boy protested, holding his hands up in front of his face. One of the goons grabbed onto his wrists and yanked them down; it was clearly painful judging by the boyâs shriek. Peter tensed her muscles, ready to jump into the middle of whatever was going on, but a voice coming from the mouth of the alley startled her. The fuck?
âNow, now, now, what do we have going on here? Some sort of tussle?â the newcomer drawled. Peter stifled her groan, as she realized without looking that it was Wade. She should have known that it was him from the fact that he had - once again - foiled her spidey-sense. And the fact that he said the word âtussle.â Nobody said tussle anymore.
âFuck off,â one of the goons, the one holding onto the boyâs wrists, called before turning back to the boy.
âNo can do, Sweetheart,â Wade crooned, walking closer. Peter bristled at Wadeâs use of the pet-name, though she had no reason to. As Wade walked by her, he swung something between his palms, and Peter recognized it as a metal bat. His katanas were still strapped to his back, and all of his guns seemed to be in place. Strange.
âSee, three against one is not fair at all,â Wade continued, shaking his head as he stopped just a few feet away from the group. A grin stretched over his mask. âIt makes me think that you guys are bullying this poor little guy here, and I really fucking hate bullies.â
âSo do I,â Peter announced, her voice coming out more higher-pitched than normal as she dropped to the ground. Wade didnât turn around, but she heard a small squeal coming from his direction. She blushed and smirked to herself.
âCrush the bug, Iâll take care of this fucker,â Head-Goon ordered, shoving the boy harshly. He hit the wall and fell with a crunch that made Peter see red.
âIâm an arachnid,â she snarled before kicking him in the face. Deadpool whooped, and as she spun to grab one of the other goons, she saw him swing his bat at the third goon. It connected with a sound that Peter didnât even know how to describe, and the other man collapsed.
âNo killing!â Peter hastily objected, growling under her breath and rolling her eyes as Wade let out a high-pitched whine. She was so distracted by Wade that her next punch was grabbed out of the air by the goon she was currently fighting.
âNow where are your manners?â she snarked, dropping to the ground and sweeping her leg out in a move that Nat had shown her a few months ago. She knocked his legs out from underneath him. âYouâre not even going to buy me dinner first?â
Peter webbed him up against the wall with the first goon, and she turned to make sure that Wade had the last one under control. She was breathless as she watched him pin the bully to the wall, growling harsh and vulgar insults in his ear as the other man cried out in pain. The warmth from earlier had returned to Peterâs gut, and she quickly looked away, her eyes searching for the kid from earlier as she desperately tried to think about anything but Wade.
Peter slowly walked over to the still shaking boy, hands held up in front of her so that he knew that he was in no danger. The last thing that she wanted was for him to bolt.
âAre you alright?â she asked, her eyes scanning over the red, angry handprints on his skin. She winced; they were going to leave bruises.
âYeah, mâfine,â the boy said, looking at something behind her with apprehension. She heard a thud coming from that direction, and she knew that Wade had finally ended his little battle.
âDo you have somewhere to go, kid? Somewhere we could walk you to?â Peter asked gently, keeping her distance from him. She didnât want to seem threatening and in his personal space.
âI was just on my way home,â the kid replied, his voice hardening as he talked. âI can get there just fine on my own.â
âWhile we donât doubt that, Spidey here does have a duty to personally make sure that everyone gets home safe and sound,â Wade chimed in, suddenly right next to Peter. Though they werenât touching, she could feel the heat that his body was giving off. It was nice, and Peter had to fight every instinct in her body to remain standing up straight and not curl into his side.
âWhat he said,â Peter finally managed to say, wincing when her voice cracked. A smirk appeared on Wadeâs mask, and she just knew that he was preening beneath it.
It took Peter a few seconds to shake herself from her embarrassment, and when she rejoined reality, she noticed that the boy and Wade appeared to be locked in a staring contest. Wadeâs mask should not have been able to blink, but it did, and he immediately started pouting while simultaneously yelling that it wasnât fair or cool to be beaten by a teenager.
âDeadpool, cut it out!â Peter snapped, and immediately, Wade straightened. Peter raised an eyebrow in surprise. Interesting .
âCâmon, letâs get you home, kid.â
The kidâs apartment turned out to only be a few blocks away, but Wade made the five-minute trip seem like an eternity. Peter called the cops while they walked, though neither the kid nor Wade seemed to notice. Wade never shut up, once. He talked endlessly about tv shows and shit heâd seen online, and at one point, the kid made a comment in regards to a cooking show that Wade was rambling on about, and Wade took it and ran with it. He talked about cooking shows that didnât even sound real . Peter mostly just tried to shut both of them out, and she was very grateful when they reached the kidâs apartment. After he went inside and she heard him open his apartment door, Peter turned to scale the building. Before she could leave, Wadeâs hand clamped down on her forearm, large and warm - there was a dick joke in there somewhere - and unyielding. Peter managed to hold in the âYeep!â noise building in her throat, but it took a lot of effort.
âHey, Spidey! Thanks for helping me out tonight! That was fun, we should do it again!â Wade exclaimed, letting go of her arm once he had her attention. She swiveled in place and stared at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she raised an eyebrow under her mask.
âOne, you helped me out, I was already there when you showed up, and I had everything under control,â Peter said, her voice somehow steady as she kept up her false bravado. âTwo, absolutely under no circumstances are we going to do this again. I work alone, and I donât need distractions.â
âOh, câmon!â Wade pouted, his stance matching hers as he crossed his arms over his chest. Even stomping his feet and slouching a good foot, he was still more intimidating than Peter. It was just offensive. Â
âI can help, I promise!â The eyes on Wadeâs mask got much larger as he continued to beg. Peterâs resolve was cracking fast. âIâll be a good little Dobby, no killing, only maiming or a little bit of serious injury!â
Peter shook her head and spun around. Before Wade could grab onto her again, she shot a web at the building to her left and pulled herself onto the side of it. She scaled the building in a matter of seconds, and when she looked back down, Wade was no longer pouting. Instead, his head was tilted to the side as he looked up at her in what she thought was awe.
âDat ass just keeps getting better, Spidey!â Wade called up, cupping his hands in front of his mouth even though he clearly didnât need to. Christ, she wasnât even that far up, just a few stories. It was like he lived to embarrass her.
âCall me, beep me, if you wanna reach me!â Wade shouted as Peter took a running start and jumped off the building. She sighed as she swung away, though a smile had already begun to worm its way onto her face.
Peter spent the next few hours patrolling on the other side of town, trying to stay clear of Wade. She was distracted the entire time, especially when her burner phone buzzed again. She called it quits just after 1, and she would never admit to the fact that she swung home twice as fast as usual.
When she climbed in her window, the first thing she did was yank off her mask and collapse on her bed. She whipped out her burner phone, her thumbs gliding across the screen as she unlocked it. The first message from Wade was a picture of a dachshund in Central Park. It was followed up by a picture of another dachshund, though this time, the dog was in a hot dog costume. It was the greatest thing ever.
There was a string of actual texts after the two pictures.
u no like weenie dogs???? tht is a war crime, bby-girl
or mayb u fell asleep like a good bun-bun???
tis late after all
k iâll see u in ur dreams then bambi
sweet dreams sweetheart. catch those zâs 4 me
Peter rolled her eyes as she reread through the messages again. The pet names sent warmth through her chest, and her nerves felt jittery, like she was on some sort of sugar high. She closed her phone without responding to Wade, knowing that the man was probably still awake, and if she texted him, heâd only reprimand her for not sleeping. The thought of Wade scolding her wasnât as disenchanting as it should have been. Her fingers itched to send a taunting message to Wade, just to see what, exactly, he would do to her. Hastily, Peter tossed her phone onto the other side of the bed so she couldn't do anything rash.
Peter stripped off her suit with a groan. She shut her window before moving to the bathroom. It seemed that a cold shower was in order.
#marvel#marvel fanfiction#deadpool#spider-man#spider-woman#spiderman#spideypool#spideypool fanfiction#deadpool/spiderman#deadpool/spiderwoman#deadpool/spider-woman#deadpool/spider-man#peter parker#female peter parker#plus-sized peter parker#wade wilson#wade wilson/peter parker
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Breaking... Ch.12
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
A/N: This chapter took way too long because I wasnât planning for it but itâs here now so letâs go yâall! Iâll get back to the main plot next chapter I swear!
Wordcount: 3609
Warnings: Blood, slut shaming, taunting, cursing
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Breaking Trust
You felt the impact send waves through your skull, they reverberated through your brain. Bouncing off the bone. You were falling past the ground, it seemed like the ground faded from under you. Varying shades of grey were around you and sticking out like jagged stone; but as it faded out to white you felt the familiar wrapping of silk around your body. Just as you saw the end of the gleaming fabric, one of the pieces wrapped itself around your leg and dangled you above your point of exit. You stared numbly into the light, you couldnât see anything beyond it but you could hear something faint. âMiss, Iâm going to need you to step back and leave the room! The doctor needs room to work.â It was a woman, she sounded older and frustrated. âNo! Please, I need to be here with her! Y/N! Please, wake up!â Another woman said, she seemed much younger than the first and her ton was frantic. Her voice was familiar. âDamn it all! Sheâs drifting off! Miss L/N, do not fall back asleep!â An older male voice called. You tried to fight the silk and reach out towards the voices but it was no use. The silk raised you up as you struggled and flung you the way you fell. You flew through the air, past the white, past the rocks and into the light you came from.
       Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air. You were laying on some kind of couch and you felt the warmth and light from a fire nearby.
âWell, at least youâre finally up.â A female voice said curtly. You looked around to see a woman standing by a door. Her clothes were similar to yours, only her bodice was orange and had longer sleeves. âHonestly, youâre lucky to be alive at all. If Mr. Burr had not seen your horse, you would certainly be dead.â Mr. Burr? Her voice was cold, her hair, skin and eyes all matched that tone. Icy.
âWhere am I?â You asked as your frantically sat up. She chuckled at your panic.
âI shall inform Mr. Burr of your current status. Wait here.â She ordered you and walked out of the room. What the hell happened? The last thing I remember⊠You touched the left side of your face and winced. You felt some sort of bandage along your left temple and although you couldnât see it, you could feel how bruised your face was. There were footsteps coming toward the door so you stood up, you still felt a bit dizzy but you quickly steady yourself. In walked in a familiar man, dark skin, wearing a deep purple and a pleasant smile.
âI see that you are awake. What was your name? Titania, was it?â He asked.
âM-Mr. Burr, sir! Um, thatâs what I am called yes?â Am I lying? He nodded and sensed your confusion about the situation.
âI heard a commotion outside my door at sun rise and saw a horse with gear standing on my lawn. I recognized it as belonging to Mr. Hamilton and decided I should send it back to his estate but it was acting rather strange. Â It kept moving away from me whenever I approached and, although it was probably foolish for to think it, it seemed to want to show me something. Low and behold you were not even a twenty meters from my home. I brought you back and called for a doctor, you had a terrible head wound but he said that you would wake up soon. Luckily he was correct, the sun has just only begun to set.â He explained. Thatâs crazy! Seriously universe? Why do you have to be such a bitch to me?!
âI donât know what to say⊠Thank you, Mr. Burr! You really saved my life! I donât know how I can thank you enough let alone repay you for this!â
âNo need for thanks, I couldnât just leave you out to die now could I? And in terms of repayment, I shall talk with Alexander about that.â Talk with AlexâŠFuck⊠Heâs not supposed to know about what happened! And hell Iâve already caused them enough trouble, why do I have to be like this?! Heâs going to have to pay money for my idiocy! Ugh! He could read your disappointment as if you were actually saying it to him.
âIs something the matter?â He asked. Fuck.
âNo, no, no, no, no! Thatâs perfectly fine! Itâs just⊠I donât exactly like having other people pay my debts but I suppose Iâll have to just live with it.â This is going to be bad when they get back⊠He closed his eyes like he was thinking about something. You couldnât read his expression at all, which was something that Alex frequently complained about him. He was elusive.
âI have a proposition for you then, Miss Titania.â What?
âA proposition?â You asked.
âMy wife you see, has fallen quite ill and we are a bit short of staff. I am aware that the Hamiltons are up town for the winter. Perhaps, while they are away, you could lend your services to help around here.â He offered.
âSeriously? Thank you so much, Mr. Burr! I just really donât want to cause any problems for Alex and Iâll work really hard to make sure my debt is paid-â He shushed you.
âTalk less.â Wait, what? âI will take that as a yes, however there are some rules you must follow.â
âOh, um, of course.â
âThings are done very differently around here than at Alexanderâs. You are at the Burr estate now and you must behave as such. Based on how you have worked at the Hamiltonâs I can tell that your personality is rather⊠loud. That will not be the case while you are with me. Talk less, smile more. That is how you shall operate. You will be expected to hold a demeanor of calm and collectiveness at all times. I will not tolerate anything less, is that clear?â You were surprised by how serious he was while speaking to you, you were actually taken aback. I suppose not everything could be as accepting as it is with them⊠Even with the terms being so out of character for you, you knew you had to try. So you agreed to the conditions.
       That night you were given back your horse and set out for the estate. You felt slightly uncomfortable with having to ride again after what happened but it was your only option. You were going to be a maid for the Burrâs and would have to leave at dawn every morning to get there on time for work. You got back home, led the horse back to the stables and went inside. You hastily prepared a fire to ward off the chill in your bones. You werenât sure why but you didnât have a good feeling about this.
âŠ
Dear Starlight,
       It already feels as though I have been away from you a century, has it truly only been a month and a half since I have seen you? I miss you, I miss our conversations, I miss your lectures, I miss your voice, your spirit, your passion. I miss it all, everything down to the way you hold a teacup as though it could fall apart in your hands. It is very quiet uptown; I do not think I like the quiet though. It feels empty and, dare I say, a bit lonely without you by my side to share your thoughts on this world we live in. Everyone else misses you as well. Father and Mother have been telling Grandfather all about you, he seems to find you quite charming. Angelica says that studying is becoming a bore without you there to give her alternative methods of remembering her work. Even Alexander, James and John seem quite withdrawn; specifically, they long for one of your fairytales. I have no idea what they are talking about but it has something to do with a fruit that can show you everything you desire? Or was it about gaining knowledge from it? It sounds fascinating, then again, everything about you intrigues me. It is surprising to think that it has not even been an entire year since our first meeting, I feel as though I have known you my entire life. Although since we are on a similar subject, I have some rather exciting news. My birthday is next week! I shall be turning sixteen, soon enough I will no longer be considered a boy but instead a young man. However, I only care about that title when it comes to you. Your wit and luminosity may suggest you consider me an equal. Yet, does that mean your heart sees me as such? I wish not to be considered a child in thine eyes, a boy who becomes as red as a blooming rose over his frivolous romanticized fantasies. I do not think the word âdifferentâ quite fits how I see you, perhaps extraordinary would be a better term? You are not like any of the other maidens I have encountered; you are bold, utterly silly and stubborn in every wondrous way. You are the brightest star is the sky, the North Star. Others gaze upon you and wonder where you shall lead them, while I can only hope that you will take pity on a soul deprived of your love, a soul left completely helpless. I see your eyes and smile in the night sky, Lord knows that I have prayed. I have prayed that you will leave your celestial heaven and keep beside me. Is it not embarrassing? Even on paper I cannot articulate what I am feeling without becoming muddled. Perhaps it is best if I wait to express myself when I meet you at the end of February. Until then ma cheriĂ©, please do not forget to write. I know you must be busy as to not have the time to write but that shall not stop my own writing tendencies, your words bring me more joy than you could possibly imagine.
Sincerely yours,
P. Ham, your sunshine.
Your mind and your heart were telling you two distinctly different things by the time you finished reading Philipâs letter. Why does everything have to be so complicated?! You held your head in your hands, trying to decide what to do next. Itâs been two weeks since you started to work for Aaron Burr and to say you hated it would an understatement. Youâve never felt so restricted in your entire life, it was huge reality check for you. Not everything could be all feminism and modern like it was with Alexander. Proper etiquette hangs over your head constantly, you never expected Burr to be as uptight as he is. It isnât all bad though, Mrs. Burr is actually quite lovely. She tells you many stories of her younger days when sheâs well enough to speak cohesively. Honestly, the best times were when she was awake, it always gave you the chance to take a breather from Aaron. He wants to be by her side as often as time allows, he acts like a completely different person around her. Heâs happy. That doesnât last too long though, and Sarah doesnât help much either. Sarah was the maid that was âby your sideâ when you awoke at the Burr estate. Sheâs kind of, maybe, the worst person. She frequently taunts you for the position youâre in and tries to accuse you because of your relationship with the Hamiltonâs. âI know what you did, who knew a man would actually defend his whore.â When you asked her what she was trying to imply she said. âI wonder how the son reacted to learn that his whore was also his fatherâs. I believe I would pay to see such an encounter!â No matter how many times you try to convince her of the truth, she just shuts you down and claims that a prostitute will do anything to hide her sins. First of all, Iâll do what I damn well please with my body! Second of all, I DID NOT have an affair with Alexander! Seriously, I thought this whole situation was over! You didnât have time to read the letter before you had to leave for work, so you took it with you. You heard footsteps from beyond the door you were behind and quickly hid the letter in your bodice. You stood up from where you were sitting at the dining room table, taking your spare cloth off of your apron and using it to wipe the table. You know, to make it seem like you were working even though there was nothing to clean yet. Sarah, cold looking as ever, came bursting in.
âGood morning, Miss Home Wrecker. I will be taking care of Lady Burr today, which means you will be in charge of everything else for the day. I suggest you be on your best behavior, or else you shall receive quite a tongue lashing from Mr. Burr⊠Although you probably want that!â She snorted as she left you alone to fester in your anger. Fuck you too, Sarah! Okay Y/N, calm down. Itâs only for another five or so weeks. I can do this! Just put on your best smile and suck it up, buttercup! You took a deep breath and left to take your normal rounds. Things were going relatively smoothly, at least until mid-day approached.
       You heard a carriage drawing into the âdrivewayâ as you started to call it. Ugh, a visitor⊠Normally, you wouldnât mind having to greet a visitor, but you havenât had to deal with any of Burrâs guest yet. You werenât excited. Nevertheless, you did what you were taught, you walked over to the door and smiled sweetly. You heard footsteps and you opened the door, closing your eyes to block out the brightness from the light hitting the snow outside.
âWelcome to the Burr estate! What may I do for you today?â You asked in a bubbly voice.
âWell Iâll be damned.â Oh no. Please let it be a hallucination! Please let it be a hallucination! You slowly opened your eyes and to no surprise the first thing you see is a bright color. Magenta. The whole image started to fade in, Thomas Jefferson, in all his horridness, was standing in front of you. On top of that, you had to greet him with a smile and give him hospitality. Iâd rather shut the door in his face⊠You bit your tongue and moved out of the way for him so that he could enter. âWell, well, well, Miss Titania! I would never guess I would find you here. What brings you? I thought Hamilton was away for the winter?â He gave you a mischievous grin as you shut the door behind him.
âSimply working, nothing worthy of noting.â You said through gritted teeth. He chuckled, but before he could retort, Burrâs voice echoed from the nearby staircase.
âHello Thomas, forgive me but my wife is awake at the moment so I must focus on her. Miss Taylor, please make him some tea.â Can I pour the tea on him?! You nodded to the demand, you couldnât exactly say no. You turned and began to walk towards the dining room.
âTake a seat, Iâll be back with your tea shortly.â You lashed, obviously annoyed. He smiled, but he didnât sit down.
âActually, I would much rather follow you. I hate not having company and personally, Iâd say you make some pretty fine company.â He raised his eyebrows up slightly. This bitch⊠You shot him a thin smile and turned to walk into the kitchen, rolling your eyes as he trailed behind you. You began the tea preparations, hoping that he would at least give you the pleasure of not speaking. You were not granted that pleasure.
âHow have you been Miss Titania?â He asked, your back turned to him.
âFine.â You said insipidly. You began to heat up the water and turned to find Jefferson a few feet away from you.
âThatâs a rather noxious injury youâve got there.â He pointed and traced out in the air the slight crescent shape from the stitching on your left temple. You covered it up with your hand. âMay I ask how that happened?â He asked with curiosity in his brown eyes, you spoke as you walked past him to grab the tea box.
âIt seems that I am no equestrian, Mr. Jefferson.â You said with dun. He clicked his tongue.
âI see.â After that, things went silent for a moment. You got out the teapot and made the tea, now all that was left was for you to set up the tray and cups, you assumed Burr would join him shortly. You set the tray down, picked out he saucers, the cream and sugar as well. You grabbed one of the tea cups with both hands, careful not to drop it and as you picked up the second one, Thomas spoke up.
âHow has Philip been recently.â
Crack, shatter, puncture, warm.
       Some glass fragments from the delicate cup began to trickle from your seizing hands, the pieces digging into your palms. You whipped your head around, shock was etched into his features and it only grew deeper when he saw the burning hatred on your own.
âDonât ever! You do not have the right to ask me about him after what you did! You made him hate me! Even if it was only for a day, it killed me! You do not deserve the grace of hearing his effulgent name, let alone say it!â You spat, you had had enough. You couldnât hold back anymore, you were tumultuous. You felt like crying, screaming, and being sick all at the same time. He doesnât deserve to know how wonderful that family is! He almost ruined them! He threw his hands up to show peace.
âWhoa, perhaps it would be best to calm down.â He said in an oddly soothing voice. You wanted to yell, donât tell me to calm down! But you realized something.
The cup
You opened your hands and the rest of the glass fell to the floor, there were tiny cuts on your hands and blood prickled out from the ends but thatâs not what you cared about. Fuck! You crouched down onto the ground and frantically began to pick up the pieces, gathering them up in your apron cloth to hold them.
âNo, no, no, no! Burrâs going to kill me!â You spoke breathlessly and then a voice you really didnât want to hear.
âWhy am I going to kill you?â Burr asked dryly. He looked down at what you were doing, his expression blank. You hated that look, it made you even more fearful than most things. The idea that he could be thinking of anything and you wouldnât know terrified you enough as it was. But now it was directed at you. You were about to apologize, try to convince him it was an accident and that you were sorry but you were interrupted.
âI dropped my cup, you know me Burr, my senses are never quite right when Iâm around a pretty lady! Iâll pay for it, donât worry about it!â Jefferson laughed. What? Whatâs he doing? Burr sighed and shook his head, rubbing his temples, which he commonly did when he was stressed.
âSeriously, Thomas? You canât stop your womanizing for even a second? Well⊠Itâs not the good china so I suppose no harm was done. I came in here to tell you that we shall head to the cabinet in a moment, I just have to get properly dressed first. Itâll only be a moment. Taylor, please clean up this mess.â He said as he turned and left the two of you alone once more. You quickly gathered up the rest of the glass and stood up, making sure it wouldnât fall out of the sides of your apron, the edges you holding lightly between your fingers. You turned to look at Jefferson.
âWhyâŠ? Why did you cover for me?â You were dumbfounded, he took a deep breath.
âI know how Burr can be, it was honestly just better to say that I did it. Besides, Iâm not a scoundrel all the time you know?â You disposed of the glass as he stepped closer to you. He was only a foot away from you by the time you noticed, he held out his hand.
âMay I see your hands?â He asked calmly. You reluctantly showed him your hands, he held one in each of his and inspected them closely. âHm, you should be alright. Clean them up, use a cloth to stop the bleeding and if anyone asks, tell them you slipped on the ice outside.â He instructed, you nodded along, still a bit confused.
âWhy would you help me? Donât you hate me or what I stand for or something?â He sighed at your question.
âListen, I will admit that my accusations were under a false pretense, that I apologize for. I wasnât asking you about Philip to be antagonizing, I was genuinely curious. I talked to James a while back and he told me about what you said. âI donât care about my nameâ All you care about is everyone elseâs wellbeing. You could say it put things into perspective for me. Why would a whore care about her âloverâ and not have it be about money? Why would Hamilton write an entire pamphlet to protect the dignity of one mistress but incriminate the other? It doesnât make sense, unless Iâm wrong and that you truly had nothing to do with it. It was presumptuous of me, and for that I am very sorry. When it comes to Philip however, I am rather close to Angelica and we have discussed the two of you the recently. So do not worry, I get it.â He let go of your hands and gave you a soft smile, walking past you towards the exit into the dining room. âI should meet with Burr, perhaps I shall meet with you again in the future, Titania? It would be a real shame to not see your pretty face again. Au revoir, mademoiselle.â He waved goodbye to you with that same grin on his face. What just happened? Is he not an asshole 24/7? You were left to stew in your questions for a bit, but you eventually followed the directions he gave you, pushing the questions to the back of your mind. Which then made new questions form.
What am I going to do when they get back?
#hamilton#hamilton the musical#hamilton fanfic#time travel au#hamilton an american musical#alexander hamilton#eliza schuyler#angelica schuyler#Philip Hamilton#thomas jefferson#james madison#aaron burr#george washington#lafayette#John Laurens#mulligan#king george iii#peggy schuyler#maria reynolds#philip x reader
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Got a tag back from @questionartbox - thanks, mâdear! Such interesting questions youâve come up with! Here we go~!
1. What do you use for inspiration? (Music, mood boards, other?)
Music. Mood boards or fan art. Movies, sometimes. Or games. Those âsend me a number/lineâ sentence starters have been AMAZING in inspiring me to write, too - I love them. Also - all the prompts people send via ask, you guys have such amazing ideas, I love it. Youâre like fiction fodder.
2. Are you afraid of storms?
No. Like, I like to sit on the porch and watch them. I love storms. I love to feel the rumble of them in bones. Listen to them wailing on the window panes and drown out all the noise of everyday life. I love to see them blanket the world in a sheet of grey, to cover everything for a moment - respite from the every day. And best yet, I love when they darken the morning. I get headaches from the sun - and so mornings when storms chase away the light are my favorite, because I can sleep in and be soothed by the patter of the rain. Now I really wish it would storm... XD
3. Favourite late night snack?
Chocolate. Or something salty. Or just straight up creamy peanut butter. XD
4. What was your favourite book as a child?
I honestly didnât read much until early high school. I used to hate to read, until the Harry Potter books came out. So in high school, my favorite book had been this two-part series called âThe Sunderingâ. Iâve fallen out of love with it, since, but I fondly remember how in love with it I had been. Particularly one scene.
5. Which FB/ HP-verse creature would you most like to keep as a pet?
OH MY GOODNESS. You know, Iâm surprised at myself but I really fucking love the Mooncalves and their giant, stupid eyes of wonderment. Iâd totally take one of them. Those goobs, I love them - I donât know when that happened, but I do.
6. How do you arrange your files for writing/art/other not for it to become jumbled mess of files?
Iâm anal about my files on my computer. I have them based off medium (writing, photography, video, etc.), then fandom or client or project, then further from there (chapters, notes, inspiration, media, graphics, etc.). FOLDERS ON FOLDERS ON FOLDERS. Iâd go insane, otherwise. My life may not be neat, BUT MY COMPUTER IS.
7. Tea or coffee?
Both! Preferably cold.Â
8. Which season makes you most comfortable?
Fall and winter. I got hot easily and my eyes are really light sensitive (I get migraines crazy easy) - so the cool, dark months are my favorite. The hush of snow or the crackle of leaves. The crisp, brisk smell of sharp, cold air. Like, I LIVE FOR IT. Summer is coming and I am not ready. TT.TT
9. What kind of student were/are you?
A lazy af student. Like, so lazy until college, when I was finally studying the things I WANTED to study. Then got way more dedicated to it. I miss it, sometimes - but not the homework or the tests. Donât fucking miss that at all. More the atmosphere of being with other creative, driven (sleep deprived) people. It was heady and exciting, and I miss that.
10. What are you most likely to do on a day off?
Unfortunately Iâve got a lot of things pulling me in 10 directions. Catch up with family/friends, run errands, freelance side work, maybe a photoshoot with some fellow creatives, edit, write, read, watch a movie or play a game. DRINK SOME WINE.
11. Introduce me to your favourite character without telling me who it is!
Heâs a good man; but his soul is old now. He used to be young and eager to help - to protect people. But he was betrayed by his leader. Betrayed by his mentor. The life he might have led lost beneath viruses and epidemics and hungry mouths and dedicating his life to keep the world safe - only, thereâs never any thank you. Just âwhy didnât you do betterâ and âwhy couldnâtâ you save him/herâ and âyouâll never win.â He lifts weights until his body barely resembles the young, gangly man he once had been. He tries to imbue his human body with a power that can never match the horrors he faces. Heâs what happens to kind men that go to war; quieter, shallower, tired - something left behind. Friends and comrades come and go, but the mission remains the same - fight until you die, and hope it was enough.
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In Sickness and Hell
Synopsis: Sickness never bothered Lucifer until it got ahold of Chloe.
Ao3 link
Rating: T
Notes: Oh my god guys I'm so sorry it's taken me this long!!! I've been super busy with my health, family health, vacation, and about 5 million other things, but I did it! A big shoutout to my beta because I deprive her of sleep about 5 days of the week. This was thrown in in a rush so be sure to check my paragraphing! ALSO SPECIAL NOTE: THERE IS ONLY ONE CHAPTER TO GO!
Chapter Number: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
Dan always had had a few choice words to describe Lucifer Morningstar. Egotistical, pretentious, asshole; really the list went on. But heâd always supposed there was more to the club owner than just shallow smiles and mindless sex. Sometimes he would catch when his charming smiles twisted into ugly snarls or how his eyes bubbled with more than lust. There was something about the man that just seemed off. Dan wasnât sure what exactly made him feel that way, but there was certainly more to him than he liked to let on.
Watching Lucifer talk to the nurse outside of Chloeâs room all but proved Danâs theory.
He stood as he normally did; with a type of stiff-backed elegance that only came from cold, old money childhoods. Except there was nothing elegant and expensive about the scene at all.
Luciferâs clothes were heavily creased and stained. The boot print on his chest and bruises on his jaw that Dan had been so proud of earlier, now seemed to sneer at him in disgust. A sharp kick of regret drove through his stomach.
The bruises were too purple, the dirt stain too prominent for Dan to be proud. What he had done wasnât justice, it was brutality. Â
He scoffed at his mounting shame. What the fuck was wrong with him? When had he begun to tolerate and feel pity for Lucifer Morningstar? Â
From his spot around the corner, Dan studied the shadows under the club ownerâs eyes. They werenât dark and sickly like he would have thought, but more subtle and haunting instead. A passerby wouldnât have noticed them, the hospital staff might not even notice them, but Dan did. And for some reason they unsettled him.
But that wasnât what tripped Dan up the most about the situation, because clinging to Luciferâs waist was none other than Trixie.
His long musician fingers tapped out melodies on the top of her head, in a way that a stranger might think it as endearing.
But Dan wasnât a stranger and the motion just seemed out of place for a man who believed dogs and children were one in the same. Still, Dan watched as Lucifer let Trixie press her cheek against his hip and squeeze him tighter than what would be classified as polite.
A shudder ran up his spine and Dan finally made his way towards them. Honestly, the whole thing was so surreal that it made him feel like he was in a parallel universe.
As he neared the group, he caught snatches of the nurseâs speech.
â--s Decker is receiving blood and extra electrolytes just to make sure sheâll remain stable. The nurses believe the shock was caused by a mixture of fatigue, prior blood loss, and some sort of severe stress. You wouldnât happen to know anything about that, would you Mr. Morningstar?â the nurse asked him almost accusingly.
Before Dan could stop himself, the question tumbled from his mouth. âChloe went into shock?â
The nurse turned with bland amusement painting his features, to look at Dan. âYes Miss Decker went into shock about twenty minutes ago. Fortunately it was an easy fix and she should be stable now,â he glanced from Dan to Lucifer. Dan didnât miss the way his eyes traced the path from his bandaged hand to the bruises that stained Luciferâs skin.
âAs I was just asking Mr. Morningstar, do you know of any kind of stress Miss Decker could have had between 9AM and 12PM?â
Lucifer shifted his empty stare from the nurse to him and Dan couldnât help but get another chill.
âPanic attack. Mid morning.â
Even though the words were meant for the nurse, he caught the double meaning.
The nurse was oblivious to the threat, of course, and scribbled it down on a bleached white note pad. He gave his required send off with forced cheer, but not before making note to tell them both that as soon as her IV finished, Chloe could be released. Without another word, he disappeared into the mass of medical staff, leaving Dan alone with Lucifer and Trixie.
They stared each other down for a few tense moments until Trixie interrupted it.
âDaddy can we stay here?â
Dan tore his gaze from Luciferâs and to his daughter. She still clung to the other man like a lifeline. Her hands twisted into the expensive fabric of his shirt, adding new pathways to the roadmap of older wrinkles.
âNo baby. Look I know you want to make sure Mommy is okay but Iâm sure Lucifer wants to get some rest too.â
Trixieâs face twisted into a pout and refused to let Lucifer go. âPlease?â
There was a tiny pang of jealousy that rang in Danâs chest at the sight of his daughter clinging to another man. No amount of newfound respect for Lucifer could ever make that jealousy go away. Trixie was his daughter. He loved her so much. It was supposed to be his job to protect her, but lately all he seemed to do was hurt her.
âTrix,â he said, sterner this time.
âNo.â
Lucifer laid his palm flat on her head. âDarling as much as I love seeing you rebel against your paternal figure, your father is right.â
âBut what about you? Maze said you donât look like you feel good,â she turned to look at Dan again, âDaddy, Luciferâs sick too. We canât leave him here.â
Lucifer sighed. Dan could tell his patience was wearing thin.
He tried to cajole her again. âLucifer is only going to get better if you let go, honey. He canât get better if you wonât let him go anywhere.â
âDaddy we're at the hospital, they can help Lucifer,â she said, rolling her eyes, âbut if we leave he'll be all alone! Nobody should be alone when theyâre sick.â
Lucifer was about to open his mouth when a familiar shadow silenced him with a hand on his shoulder: Maze.
A spark of recognition flashed behind Danâs eyelids.
âYou,â he accused.
Maze raised her brows in amusement. âMe?â
Memories of glances over his shoulder, dark tinted windshields, and paranoia flooded his mind. The whole time it was just Maze. She was his shadow that afternoon in the precinct; watching. He suppressed a shiver.
âYou stalked me all afternoon, what the f--â he saw his daughterâs eyes widen, â freak,â he quickly amended.
âWhat a valiant save, Daniel,â Lucifer muttered sarcastically.
Dan ignored him, but he couldnât help the crashing wave of relief the remark brought. He would take snarky asshole Lucifer over solemn, unnerving Lucifer any day. There was something reassuring about the way the robotic respect was slowly changing back into his purposefully annoying personality. It was weird; Dan never thought he would miss basically anything that Lucifer ever did.
Maze shrugged from her spot at Luciferâs side. âIâm impressed that you noticed in the first place, I wasnât even topless.â
âWhy in Godâs name were you following me?â he asked in utter disbelief.
Lucifer carded a hand through his hair in annoyance âSaying things in his name isnât going to get your bloody answer any faster, you know. His name isnât some premium code.â
Maze barked out a sardonic giggle.
To Danâs slight horror, Trixie joined in.
Dan was not the religious type. His parents were strict Catholics and ever since he was eighteen heâd always held a small kernel of resentment for all of the forced mass sessions. But that did not mean that he needed Luciferâs own traumatic experiences rubbing off on Trixie; it was bad enough that his parents frowned upon Chloeâs atheism. He didnât need Trixie going to Nanaâs house and telling her that she was best friends with Satan.
Oh God, Dan could just hear the wine glass dropping out of his motherâs hand now.
Maze gave one last snort before sobering up. âAnyway I came out to tell you that Chloeâs awake.â
Immediately, all humor drained from Luciferâs eyes. His shoulders strained with an invisible weight and the remaining mirth seemed to drain away.
Trixie, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree. She smiled slyly up at Maze, who returned it with one of her own wolfish grins.
Finally, Trixie pulled away from Lucifer and both him and Dan let out a breath neither of them knew they were holding.
Immediately, one of Luciferâs tics took over and he began smoothing out the creases in his shirt. Apparently it took more than exhaustion to shake that level of OCD.
Trixie sighed dramatically and tugged on Luciferâs wrist impatiently. Â
âBeatrice--â he said, clearly caught off guard.
âCome on youâre taking too long,â she whined and tried to pull him in the direction of Chloeâs room.
He offered a few weak protests, but ultimately allowed himself to be swept away by the seven year old, leaving Maze and Dan alone in the hall.
Maze grinned and arched a mocking brow at him.
Dan glanced around. âWhat?â
The bartender just shrugged, âNothing, just wondered if you were getting your panties in a twist over Lucifer and Chloe again.â
âWhy would I do that?â
Maze glanced at his bandaged hand and gave him a look.
Dan covered it with his other hand. âLook,â he said defensively, âI got mad the first time--â
âAnd the second, and the third--â
He glared at her and continued with a little more force, â--but I donât hate the guy.â
Maze crossed her arms and looked him over. âCould have fooled me.â
Seeing how the conversation was going to end, Dan scoffed and brushed past her and stepped into Chloeâs room.
The scene he walked into stopped Dan in his tracks.
Lucifer hovered around the foot of the bed, his hands fiddling with his cuffs as he paced back and forth.
âYouâre certain youâre all right?â he asked timidly.
Chloe sat propped up on the bed with Trixie pressed into her side.
âLucifer, come on you know the answer to that.â
He took an uneasy step closer to her. âHumor me Detective.â
She rolled her eyes. âIâm fine, alright? It was just shock, it happens to everyone.â
The rest of the conversation fell on deaf ears. Dan stood stupefied. Lucifer Morningstar did not do quiet. He did not act soft and he certainly had never been described as timid.
His shoulders were slumped, the perfect posture seemingly thrown out the window.
It was all too surreal for Dan when he realized that in some way or another Lucifer had always been like this. Maybe not to this degree, but the traces of it now stood out in his mind.
Before, Dan didnât have a word for the emotion that he often saw in Luciferâs eyes. Heâd always passed it off as something simple, like lust or annoyance, but now he knew that it was far from that.
Whether he liked it or not, Lucifer Morningstar cared for Chloe Decker. And for some reason, Dan was okay with that. It was as if the proverbial glass had finally shattered.
After this blew over, Chloe was going to sign the divorce papers. Then he would sign them and that would be it. There would be no argument, no dramatic change of heart. This chapter on their life would be over in the matter of a week. The rings would be taken off and hidden away and slowly the rest of Chloeâs things would disappear from their house. And soon enough their house would turn into his house; wedding pictures swiped off shelves and the dress gone from the closet.
It would be polite smiles over break room coffee and late night cases. They would fall into comfortable silence but at the end of the night, Dan would go home alone and Chloe would go home to Lucifer.
There would be secrets whispered between silk sheets that he would never know and new recipes heâd never taste. Maybe there would eventually be a new ring on her finger; a new last name pasted over his.
Dan would never know because this was where their lives diverged.
And for the first time since the separation, Dan was okay with that.
Lucifer was an ass, but deep down Dan knew he would take care of both Chloe and Trixie.
Maybe that was why he found the strength to clear his throat.
The conversation in the room halted as three sets of eyes turned towards him. Unconsciously, he covered his bandaged hand once more.
âUh, Iâll stay here if you want to go get her release papers,â he said to Lucifer.
The man in question stopped his pacing and glanced at Chloe. She looked confused, shifting her gaze from him to Dan. Clearly Lucifer had forgotten to mention him.
Silently, Lucifer gave her one final lingering look before squaring his shoulders, giving his cuffs one last tug, and heading for the door. Before he disappeared completely, he turned back towards Dan with a small, thoughtful smile.
âThank you.â
Dan just nodded, knowing that somehow, heâd made the right decision.
Turning back to Chloe and Trixie, he sighed.
Trixie gave him one of her bright gap-filled smiles but the guarded expression Chloe had worn since Dan had come in hadnât left her face.
He offered her a bitter smile that she didnât return.
With the same precise steps Lucifer had worn into the linoleum, Dan made his way over to Chloeâs bedside.
Her blue eyes were still misty with sleep, but the question sat plainly in them. The last time she had seen him, he was a punch away from being escorted out of the hospital. She had every right to be questioning him.
âHi,â she finally said, letting her questioning tone bleed through.
Dan couldnât stop his smile from falling, âIâm sorry.â
Chloeâs frown deepened and she patted Trixieâs arm. âTrix-babe would you go see where Maze put your backpack?â
â Mommy,â she whined, clearly not forgetting the last time sheâd left the room.
Dan tried to step in once more. âDaddy just needs to talk with Mommy for a minute, okay? Itâs going to be boring anyway, I bet Maze is way cooler.â He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Dan watched as his daughter crawled from the bed with a heavy pout and didnât say another word until she was out of sight.
âDan look if youâre here to give me more shit--â
âIâm letting Lucifer take you home.â It took everything he had to keep his voice low.
âWhat?â All of the fire in her words had vanished.
Dan drew in a deep breath.
âChloe I know we thought that maybe the separation would help us--help me, â he amended, âBut it didnât did it? I love you but we canât keep doing this. Itâs not good for us and itâs definitely not good for Trix. I feel like if we donât stop it now--â his words caught in his throat, âweâll just end up hating each other. I care about you too much to let us get that bad.â
Chloeâs eyes were wide, âDan--â
âI wasnât there. I was never there when I should have been, I know. Thatâs why Iâm letting you go. After this blows over Iâll sign the divorce papers, Iâll move on. And that starts with letting Lucifer sign you out. I think heâs a dick, but heâs a dick who tore himself apart to take care of you. Hell, even now I wasnât here when I should have been. So Chloe,â Danâs voice broke, âI love you, but that will never be enough to fix us.â
Chloe sat speechless, unshed tears glimmering in her eyes.
Finally, she gave a stiff nod, âI think Iâm ready to let you go too.â
With shaking hands, Dan pulled his ex wife into a tight embrace, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.
âBye Chloe,â he whispered into her hair.
âBye Dan,â she rasped back.
As Dan pulled away, he felt an imaginary door close on the dream that was his marriage and nightmare that was his separation. But not without opening a new door that would lead to his bittersweet future.
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