Helene

okay think about this

you wanted something new, something cute

something little, a tattoo along your bikini line

nothing too big, maybe a winding pattern of vines or a cluster of little stars

what's the point of having a body if you cannot customize it even just a little bit?

you didn't think anything of it, maybe even got it so long ago you forgot

like it was meant to be there, just always a part of you

and then you got with enjin a few months later

honestly you forgot you had it, it just seemed to be a part of you and you never paid it any mind

he notices it for the first time, not anything intimate happening

the room you were in was hot, the type of heat that sticks to your skin, and the air conditioning inside of it had been cut off

the sweats you had on weren't cutting it, so you took them off without putting too much thought into it

the only rational thing to do on a hot day is lounge around

just attempting to exist in the moment rather than to melt away into the heat

He's on his side, propped up with one elbow while you're on your back next to him

you're not paying him any mind, any sort of physical contact too warm, skin sticking to skin being something you'd rather not deal with in the moment

you're looking over some pamphlet you found on the nightstand next to the bed

the sort of thing that gets handed to you on the street while you're walking

enjin is preoccupying himself with dragging a finger along your skin, tracing lazy patters on your torso, your stomach, the dip down to your hip

just existing, just mapping you out

his finger catches on the elastic band of your underwear

he pauses

a confused expression on his face, like he's trying to make out the pattern peeking out from the cloth

"what's this?"

you halt, thumb catching the page of the paper

you blink, look down

"oh, that. forgot that was there honestly."

"… you forgot?"

"yeah."

"huh."

he's quiet, almost too quiet for a few moments

"babe"

"yeah?"

"did you really get a tattoo pointing at your-"

"i'd say its more hip technically speaking."

he lets out a noise, something of a laugh and a groan

a few moments pass, his hand reaching out and gripping the flesh for a moment his thumb rubbing over it for a moment.

"it's cute, real fucking cute."

you give him a look, raise an eyebrow before chuckling to yourself

there's a comfortable silence

but of course it doesn't last long, before you're pulled from your reading with a warm body pressing on top of you

its warm

too warm for right now

throwing the pamphlet to the side you squirm, glaring down at the blonde man laying between your legs

skin sticking to skin, his own tattooed arms clinging to the skin of your thighs and stomach peeking from under your shirt

"get my name."

"absolutely not."

"get my initial."

"no."

you try shuffling away on your back, but without success, only managing to pull the contour sheet with you, enjin still planted on top of you

the most you can manage is hitting him across the head with a nearby pillow

but if you did?

not exactly his name but something black and red in that familiar swirl

you wouldn't tell him

instead let him find it himself the next time his mouth trails down your skin

he'd pause, lifting his head, his hair slicked back

"… is that new?"

you try to suppress a slight smile

"surprise?"

he thinks for a few more minutes, before smiling to himself with those damn dimples and looking back up at you

"i'm gonna marry you."

he's got this dead serious tone

"shut up."

"no i'm serious. you're insane. i love you."

It seemed like for a moment your mind had taken a screenshot. You weren't caught off guard often. Over the years nothing seemed to shock you, always being able to bounce back, throw statement with the ease of an old artisan throwing clay onto a spinning wheel and pull out a perfect pot.

Genuinely, you could tell someone to go to hell and made them be excited for their trip.

You loved slipping out the casual flirt, the exasperated faces of people not expecting those velvet coated words coming from your mouth. Their caught off expressions soon being followed by a rush of redness to their faces.

"I didn't catch what you said," He had just clarified, glancing up from the clipboard that had been occupying his focus, a eyebrow raised. Around twenty feet away, standing next to Suguwara.

You awkwardly stood there, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly before shrugging it off as casually as you could.

This had all happened because you were talking to Tanaka and Nishinoya, joking around while bounce passing a volleyball to each other. One offhanded comment about how you thought that the captain was just, possibly, a little, cute.

You hadn't thought anything of it, the two of them would just snicker to themselves, hands up to their mouths and hunched at the shoulders.

The manager jacket you had been wearing while standing around the practice felt like a straight jacket. As soon as you stepped to walk off, Tanaka caught you by the collar, Nishinoya crossing his arms in front of himself shaking his head as if he was the all knowing god.

"Nuh uh Y/N, go shoot that shot," he declared, puffed up like he knew something you didn't know.

"I think I would rather walk into oncoming traffic hot shot," You would shoot back, still in the clutches of Tanaka before he let go, tripping over your feet for a moment before catching your balance.

The two boys went blank, confused as they looked to each other, the gears seemingly turning in their heads; putting the pieces together.

"No…" Tanaka started.

"Really?" Nishinoya added.

"Him? He makes you nervous?" Tanaka finally finished, seemingly choking back laughter as he folded over, a clenched fist over his mouth; his attempt at hiding his laugh half assed. They both clocked it, "You've turned Asahi into a tomato more times than I can count and this is where you draw the line?"

Before you could even respond, Daichi bean walking over. You sucked in your cheek, clearing your throat while shooting tweedle dee and dumb to your right a glance.

He stood maybe around three feet in front of you. Didn't say anything, waiting for you to say something. The silence stretched, and stretched, and stretched.

"Y/N?" he finally prompted, raising an eyebrow.

You let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding in. It sounded like a deflating ball.

"Floors… Shiny, new wax," You finally replied, a desperate attempt to find something to change the topic.

He gave you a look, shifting his head confused.

"They were done three months ago."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause, somehow quiet despite the amount of teammates practicing in the gym.

"You're nervous."

"No."

"No?"

"Yeah," you finally admitted, your voice catching in your throat.

He had a hand on his hip, an almost half smile on his face, "For what it's worth y'know, I think you're cute too."

You raised your hand, an attempt at calling a time out, but he was already moving to go back to his captain-ly duties. Though he did glance over his shoulder, "Walk you home? Practice ends at six."

You didn't answer, just standing there, not as tense.

The thing that pulled you out of your stunned state was Tanaka on one side shaking your shoulder while Nishinoya seemed to hop around on his heels.

"Y/N. Y/N. YES, SAY YES."

You blinked a few times, eyebrows knitting together.

"Wait, did he just?" You started before cutting yourself off, rubbing your temples.

Nishinoya cut you off, "YES, GO GET YOUR MAN BEFORE HE CHANGES HIS MIND."

"Six is good, great even, my favorite time of day actually," You finally called back, swatting away Tanaka and Nishinoya.

Daichi's smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he went back to busying himself.

saying he "liked what you did there… looks good" while raising a single painted digit at his own hair when you changed up a style

and yeah you did something new but the fact this dude pointed it out just annoys you

just the nonchalant way he did it makes your jaw clench

you haven't even had a real conversation and its getting on your nerves

moments at odd hours where the both of you were the only ones in the same room

it was oddly comforting, not being alone and having another warm body near you

smirks you caught out of the corner of your eye

you just assumed he was some weirdo before being formally introduced by Arkha

it all seemed to click in that moment

oh… he's the big shot here

that makes sense

yeah you were going to stay as far as you could from him

but that didn't last long

you were sent out with his crew and that's when you noticed

he was oddly… nice to them

not that cocky ass you assumed

it was oddly charming, like he was actually a caring person

they were seemingly in on it after a while when they realized how his demeanor seemed to change when he was around you

like he wasn't exactly keeping on that leader mask

Riyo, Rudo, and Zanaka became wingmen of sorts

leaving an empty seat next to Enjin at chow time

the three of them suddenly needing to go somewhere, leaving the two of you alone

a mission that went wrong was the only reason you started dating officially

it went sideways, almost leaving you a greasy spot on the ground

and it set him off, running his mouth about how you needed to be more careful

you snapped

"what the hell is your deal? you act like you care?"

he would hesitate for once, his calm look cracking, sucking in a cheek

you would notice, how he seemed to pause

"don't do that again, my heart cant take that shit," is all he would say, his hands still at his sides, tilting his head, "you get it now?"

"oh."

dating him?

he has the spirit

one of those like fiercely protective

not out loud though

someone bothering you?

he casually walks over, draping an arm over your shoulder or a thick arm around your waist

doesn't even have to say anything, just a flat gaze

"you done here?"

they leave pretty quick

always putting you first

we know damn well with his leader tendencies

that doesn't inherently mean he doesn't trust you

no he pushes you to be your best

even if it doesn't come out with soft words, he needs to make you know your capable without you needing constant encouragement

not in a mean way but in a self identifying way

one of those guys who insists on driving

no matter how much you complain about how he's a shit driver

the most you can do is force gas money into his hand with him begrudgingly taking it

it usually takes three times of back and fourth until he finally gives in

lives for you telling him off

someone has to be the one humbling him

gets one of those little shithead grins as soon as you catch him doing something stupid or just when you raise your voice

don't worry he's right where he wants to be

blows his cigarette smoke into your face just to get you angry

it takes everything in him to not fold over with laughter when you snap at him

quality time isn't dinner dates

its just being in each others company

your jobs aren't something to take lightly

one bad expedition and you're gone

quality time is maintaining your vital instruments while having small talk

including each other in the quiet comfortable moments, just existing

a romantic gesture is remembering the off handed comments you say

You mentioned liking a specific food?

its left in a thick brown paper bag on your desk a few days later with a claim of "i bought too many don't want to let them go to waste."

sitting next to each other?

he's moving your legs to rest over his lap, not saying anything, and just mindlessly tracing on your shin with his fingers

letting you continue anything you're preoccupied with

crashes in your room at HQ more often than not

he claims the walk back to his own bed is too far

it's a fib and you know it, he uses it too often

its a good excuse to stay longer, to spend the night

he's all muscle and sharp angles, claiming the mattress is uncomfortable in his room

your extra chub is comfortable

something warm and soft

waking up tangled in your blankets, one tattooed arm slipped under your sleepshirt pressed into your stomach pulling you close, and his head tucked into your neck is something he is hooked on

and he isn't too keen on letting it go

genuinely, he won't let go

you try to get up to use the bathroom and he's mumbling some morning voice bullshit about "no. stay. warm." in your ear while you're fighting for you're life trying to slip away.

NSFW

we already know he's into curves

a whore for hips and an ass

it don't matter if its a little booty or a big one, booty is booty

bro is starving and dinner is sitting right there

a whistle

"look at you, trying to get me in trouble? gonna be the death of me babe."

body worship king

hands all over you

a large hand on your hip, slightly digging into your flesh as he leans over you, pulling you into him

"got me over here all worked up yeah?"

he's a strong guy, what's the point of being all toned and ripped if not to throw around some weight

certified munch

won't leave until your practically pushing his head off of your pussy, overly sensitive

his chin glistening, hair sweaty and fallen from its gel, face red and hot and blushing, a finger still curled inside your folds

yeah its a pretty sight

get used to it babes, you lucky bitch

often he'll just eat you out for his own pleasure

in it for the love of the game

loves face sitting

gets mad when you just hover

he's below you pulling you down onto him, fingers hooked around your plush thighs

"i'm not gonna break, and hell if that's how i go i'll be a happy man."

loves it when you're on top, his back propped up against the bedframe, watching with half lidded eyes

his hands are on you, kneading your figure, not intentionally leaving bruises but he can't help it

you're just so plush, and warm, and sopping wet

"just… fuck, use what you need outta me"

not exactly a submissive man, but he loves not needing to think for once, letting you do whatever you need to do to get yourself off

thats enough for him to go over the edge

he's there to help, loves being of service to you

doesn't mean that he wont flip you over and finish it off, pounding into you while your legs press around his waist, nails scratching into his shoulders

not the biggest in dirty talk

very big in other areas ;)

including those shuddered breaths against your ear, his jaw clenched attempting to hide his grunts

if he was standing, bro would be hipping and hopping around

someone has to calm this man down

he is full of energy please

hand holding? oh yeah you're never gonna have a freehand, hope you got pockets (though we know this man would hold everything for you)

just picture him out shopping with you carrying a mountain of bags with a pinky out for you to grab

he loves the contact, how soft they are

nishinoya loves any kind of touch

don't matter if you're taller, he's reaching to have an arm around your shoulder or casually slipping a hand in a jean pocket

his defense is it's easier to reach but we all know what's up

would never fall for that 'let his hand go and let him keep walking'

got those libero reflexes, always and eye out

besides that, he would always be looking at you

making eye contact while having whatever dumbass conversation

yes he has walked into a pole doing this, if you bring it up he will be all flushed in the face

"anyways that's why i think that tsukki wants to be tal- i swear to god if you release me woman"

you got a new set of nails? knows immediately

most likely because he was the one who helped pick out the inspo pic

one of those guys who goes with you to the shop, watches over your shoulder or sits in the chair of the desk next to you

disappears and then comes back with a combo meal and is feeding you damn chicken tenders straight from the bag

same vibes as cleopatra being fed grapes and fanned

its got the old women in the salon cooing and smiling towards you

you feel like a damn celebrity

his lockscreen?

a picture of you and him, his face smushed into your cheek, probably after a game with his hair messed up and tussled

the biggest grin on his face with his hand on the other side of your face clinging onto you

one of those guys who would set your ringtone to the imperial death march

unironically uses "the missus is calling gotta go"

also has a collection of the absolute worst candid photos of you

horrible angles and lighting

they're his favorite

thank god he doesn't own a printer or those things would be plastered all over the walls of his room

On the court?

the loudest lover when he see's you while you are sitting in the stand at his games

and he wants you there for every single one

claims your his rolling thunder luck charm

full on waving arms and a glimmer in his eye

its almost scary the way he can immediately pick you out of the crowd

genuinely like locked on target, neck snapping and with that blue eyed stare, its crazy

if he ever slips in a save, bro is posing on the wood floor like rose in the titanic with the most dumb ass face

wear his jersey and he will go crazy

"TANAKA LOOK, MY GODDESS IS GLIMMERING IN THE LIGHTS"

wont shut up about you to tanaka

doesn't matter the format

texting, in person, facetime

he will find a way to bring you up

its got tanaka complaining because he's all alone

such a loud love

even in the quiet moments

you're on the couch?

nishinoya's laying with his head on your stomach between his legs

you're sitting on a chair?

his ass is sitting sideways on the arm, leaning into you with his head in the crook of your neck watching whatever you're doing

complains but loves watching those raunchy reality tv shows with you

connected at the hip

cuddling?

wants to be the damn little spoon every time, we don't have any toxic masculinity here

literally glowing with happiness when you got an arm over his chest and a leg over his waist

its so comforting and soft and warm

head on his shoulder while he's scrolling and showing you some dumbass videos

your dm's from him are genuinely half made up of some sort of cat video or the most out of pocket no context clips

does that little finger tap on your elbow before turning and showing you his phone

purposely swipes past videos you're watching to screw with you

yes the screen is on max brightness and will blind you

definitely a jetpack when he's big spoon

clinging on like a koala

got his legs locked around you and damn near choking you out with his arms around your neck

does not matter if you're shorter than him

that man wants to crawl into your skin

sometimes you wonder if you got up out of bed if he would stick there clinging

whiney complaints if you try to leave to go to the bathroom while pulling you closer

play with his hair and he is melting into your touch

feral for back scratches

if you stop, he reaches own arm over and waves his arm before tapping his own back, points at you, and then wiggles as if he's settling into the mattress more

loves a slow day with you

it almost makes him softer and even a little bit shy

you make fun of him and he will deny it like his life depends on it

follows you around your room/house like a lost duckling even though he has been there millions of times

you gotta beg him to go home half the time because sometimes he can be so overstimulating

you ignoring him or preoccupied? he's lurking behind with his head on your shoulder

most often making the most obnoxious "hmmmmm"

"is this phone time or boyfriend time"

has most definitely crawled into your lap while your on the computer in the middle of something

like not saying anything, just a kind of pathetic expression plastered on his face

a fiend for forehead kisses

not uncommon for him to not say anything, walk up, and just tilt his head awaiting a little peck

you ignore him? he's bumping you with his head

if you give him one he's suddenly cured from all that ails him

just hopping around

is it exhausting having him so hyper around?

surprisingly not really

he's your rock

Sure the wilderness was pretty, if someone enjoyed the thick vegetation and tall trees, ignoring the fact that there could be bears or even the nearby Murfree Brothers. Either one of them equally eager to take a chunk out of the homesteader, be it flesh or the little money they had left. 

It seemed like a good idea a year ago, when Y/n had found an ad in the paper about cheap land down south. Living with parents wasn't easy, especially at twenty five when they were expecting them to get married. That's what people were supposed to do when they got older. What was the point of living if not to live for someone else?

Y/n hated that idea. naively they thought that they could just buy a plot of land and live on their own. That was the big thing now, the American frontier and living off the land like some sort of new age Paul Bunion. The late eighteen hundred's, a time where the unknown was exciting. 

So of course Y/n was excited, packing all their belongings in three bags and taking the train down from Pennsylvania. The young adult had decided to stop whenever it felt right. Maybe it was their naiveness, but anything felt better than being cooped up in the neighborhood they use to live, that city block where everyone knew their name and especially their business. Hell, the old woman a few houses down still didn't let the fact that Y/n had once been caught stealing a spool of ribbon, and that had been at least ten years ago. Sure, the city was comfortable and close, too close sometimes, but still soothing oddly enough. It had been a year since their grand escape from the city and somehow they still long to hear the sounds of the sharp clanks of horse shoes striking the stone roads. 

Stubbornly though, Y/n was not going back to the city. They were set on making a new life. A new life where their mother would stop pestering them over some sort of spouse or their fathers constant worrying. They acted like they were made of sugar, and would somehow melt from even little bit of moisture in the air. 

It took three weeks of travel, of train tickets, hotels, and carriages, but Y/n had ended up in a little town called Annesburg. A murky mining town, the filthy dirt road not so different from the dirty city pavement they had been previously accustomed to. It was dirty and damp, but freeing. Free from the peering eyes of neighbors and constant watch of their parents. Here, they were just a nobody in a  nobody town surrounded by a bunch of nobody's. 

It was amazing. Almost euphoric. 

But then there was a different problem to deal with. 

Money. 

It always came down to money. 

They had none left.

Of course Y/n didn't.

They had not planned this far and had used the lot of it to just get down here with those pricy train tickets. Suddenly it made sense, why Y/n had seen all those horse drawn carriages with at least ten people hanging on the back of them. It was cheaper and now they had nothing. 

But they needed money, money to buy that plot of land that was promised in ink on that paper weeks ago. It wasn't like Y/n could of written to their parents. Besides the fact that they didn't even have enough coins to pay for paper and a stamp, Y/n hadn't even told them they were going. 

Yeah they had subtly hinted at it in small conversations, but nothing too direct. Y/n could practically imagine their angered faces, all twisted up with disgust. Y/n would most likely never be allowed to leave the house ever again. Maybe be locked up in the attic and claim that they had come down with hysteria due to having too many crazy dreams at night. Cringing at that idea. So Y/n decided to hang around the small town for a few days. Talk to the locals and figure something out. They were almost as poor as Y/n was currently. There had to be a way they got money besides mining in the nearby shaft. There had to be something else. 

And there was. As much as Y/n had been taught in the schools you were sent to, there was never talk of financing. Apparently learning how to mend and set a table was more important in both the institute and their parents eyes. The one skill that did seem useful was gardening. Well not exactly gardening, but they had taught Y/n how to put and grow herbs such as mint and sage to keep in the home for cooking reasons. Plants, big or small, couldn't be too different right? All tending they needed was water and sun, anything more? Find a book on it and just guess until they get it right. Trial and failure, that how most farmers survived anyways. Or so that's just what they assumed. 

After many a conversation with the locals, some of what Y/n would rather forget, they got what they needed to know. 

There was a man, an Austrian man, who was giving out loans. A rather mousy looking man with circular glasses hanging on the end of his nose, seemingly about to fall at any minute. Nothing like the bank which denied almost everyone in the town, but a seemingly nice man. He gave his usual little spiel about how he was a understanding man, though there was an exact deadline, Y/n had a year to pay him back in full. 

Regretfully now in retrospect, They took the opportunity against their better judgement. Not that Y/n knew it until this day. At the time They took the money, one thousand dollars, and bought that promised land. A cabin, while run down, was somewhere to live and enough blankets kept the wind out. Thankfully, Y/n had packed at least three in their multiple bags. 

So now here they are, a year later on the dot, and still living on a rundown homestead, fighting with the gardening that they had assumed and claimed almost confidently knowing.

No crops were sold as the early winter's frost burned away at their growth, no animals raised long enough to reach selling age (in result of the multitude of animals roaming around the forest), and no improvements. 

They were dirty, broke, and shit out of luck to say the least. The clothes once brand new looking now had rips at the hems, their shoes had creases and holes forming at the bending points. The only thing that Y/n could claim was a mangey cat that had used their attic as a shelter from the foxes who lurked in the dark. The cat being named Creature out of spite for when it once lodged balding self in the pallets of the floor, the ugly mess of fur and flesh needing to be fished out with a can of sardines. 

Living in the woods with an animal sidekick, it seemed like Y/n's life was starting to look like a fucked up version of a fairytale. 

They had nothing, nothing besides a fucked up looking cat and a shanty house. For a year. An exact year from their loan.

Begrudgingly, they were in the front yard of their shack. The heat of the sun burning on the back of their neck as they were hunched over on the ground. Leaning into the just slightly too short beds as they pulled, one after another of weeds. For being a, supposably, farmer; they were growing more weeds than tomatoes. 

But wasn't this what they wanted? This was the one thing in life that they had control over, this pathetic excuse of a farm. And Y/n would fight tooth and nail for it. 

Oddly enough, this was enough, the quietness of the forest was soothing. Just the light sound of the breeze swirling around branches and every so often a thud from a branch falling. It was soothing. No more unimportant small talk with family and no more thin walls of the apartment, allowing Y/n to hear the steps to conversations of their neighbors. 

Peaceful.

Quiet. 

Click.

The pulling of weeds halted, the head of the homesteader turning slightly, chin resting on the edge of their shoulder. Just listening. If something was for sure, that sharp sound was not included with the soft melody of the woods. 

Closing their eyes for a moment, they held their breath just listening. Listening for anything. Just silently praying that it wasn't the Murfree brothers or some other godforsaken gang looking for something to take. A few months they had already come in the night and stolen the few chickens that Y/n had had left. They wished they had taken that mangey cat instead. Now it was no chickens and a useless cat. A useless god awful mean cat. 

There was a low drumming, and slight squeak of leather rubbing on leather. Sucking in a quick breath, Y/n hopped to their feet, not even looking behind them and running into the house. If they had to guess who it was then they didn't exactly want to find out. When they pushed the door closed, the wood struggled. The moisture in the air causing it to swell just enough to make it not want to fit into its respective frame. With an anxious frenzy, they slammed into it with their shoulder a few times, forcing it into place. 

Whipping around in place, they looked around for their shot gun. It wasn't much, hell they couldn't afford to buy the bullets for it anymore so it was more of a decoration. But whoever was outside didn't know that. The cool metal contrasted with the hot nervous flesh of their hand, clutching it closely to their torso as they backed up to the far wall of the shack. 

The curtains at the front windows hung lazily, not covering anything particularly up in the slightest. Clearly they could see a man, he seemed to be massive in height but slimmer in bulk. He looked as if at one point he was as large as a beast. But his muscles were more lean, thinner that you would of assumed. His arms covered partially by a blue cotton shirt, the sleeves tolled up to his elbows. Gloved hands gripping a pistol. 

But his face? Hidden by the slight tilt in his posture along with his hat. The worn leather edges just passing his eyes, concealing him from the nose down. The skin looking just slightly sickly, like something was wrong. The skin of his lips was cracked, and by looking at the expression on his face, it wasn't the most pleasant expression. As if this was a bother to him, like he was annoyed by coming to this middle of bumble fuck nowhere house.

Putting his hand into the pocket of his dark denim pants, his gloved hand pulled out a worn folded piece of paper. Looking it over he let out a slight huff that sounded more like a wheeze. Something oddly pathetic for such an intimidating man. It was almost disheartening, how a man somehow so scary could be so... Worn. 

He knocked on the door, the rotting wood rattling from the motion. 

"Y/n Y/l/n," His voice called out from the door, not not being visible from the window, standing in front of the door, "you got somethin' I need."  Shit.