#//someone please kick me right in the ass and motivate me to work on replies

[katsumiiii]

Drunk In Love

roronoa zoro x fem! poc reader

genre: fluff

warnings: consumption of alcohol

description: the strawhat crew stops on a nearby island for supplies. zoro takes a trip to the local pub only to have some interesting company join him.

It’s safe to say that Roronoa Zoro was lost. While this was not a rather surprising statement, it does get tiring to hear that the swordsman hasn’t picked up on his sense of direction since entering the New World. Again and again, every twist and turn looked similar to him, causing him to wander further and further from his desired destination. That destination of course being a pub.

The male couldn’t go too long without having at least a sip of alcohol, his mouth craving the flavor after a good while. He cursed as he traveled down another unfamiliar path, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he dragged his feet along the dirt ground.

Maybe he should’ve listened when Nami said to take someone with him. Nevermind, he would have had to take that curly browed idiot with him, and he’d rather not argue the whole way to the pub.

Zoro scanned his surrounds once more, seems as though those twists and turns led him back into the town, where the pub was apparently located. He let out a sigh of relief, tired of wondering around the dense forests, especially since all of the trees were so similar looking.

He trotted along, dirt kicking out in front of him as a result. Many different sounds flooded his ears, whether it were children whining for the cherry tarts that were on sale to the left of him — they were supposedly the best in town — or the slight ringing of laughter coming from the restaurants to his right, he reckoned that’s where Luffy was trying to go, the smell of meat too tempting for him to ignore.

About half way through the town square, Zoro encountered the very place he’d been searching for. With a snarky grin on his face he hurriedly pushed open the doors, the smell of booze greeting him ever so kindly. Walking a few feet up from the entrance way, he plopped on to a tall wooden stool, slamming his hands on the oak countertop in order to catch the bartenders attention.

“Lemme get a beer.” He bluntly demanded, obsidian irises staring boringly into the man behind the counters backside, watching as he turned around with a tight lipped smile on his face.

“Sure, coming right up!” The chubby male worked swiftly, and right as Zoro gave a long loud yawn a pint of beer was slammed on to the table, causing him to smile excitedly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem sir! Tell me if you need anything else!” He stated as he hurried off to handle another customer.

Zoro raised the mug to his chapped lips, taking large gulps as he drank the liquid. It left a satisfying burn as it traveled down the pathway of his throat, soon settling in his stomach along with whatever else was down there. He let out a sigh of relief and a belch, which caused quite a few heads to turn towards the noise.

“Oh shit, that’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What’s he doing here alone?”

“If he’s here then that means Strawhat is most likely near by.”

The whispers grew louder as men and woman alike began to worriedly question the young males motives, discreetly scooting further and further away from him. Zoro huffed closing his only good eye, all he wanted was a peaceful drink at the bar, was that too much to ask for? Guess that’s what he gets for being a pirate.

“You looking for company?” A voice asked, the groan of wood rubbing against wood following soon after, causing Zoro to assume that they pulled out the chair beside him. He grunted, eye still not opening as his left hand gripped the handle of his mug.

“No, go away.” He replied, taking another gulp of his liquor.

“Aww don’t be like that, I promise I’m an interesting gal.”

Zoro opened his eye in annoyance, gaze traveling to your figure. “I said go away you damned wom-” he cut off suddenly, voice caught in the back of his throat as he stared at the sight in front of him.

You were beautiful, your hair was braided into a style he’d never quite seen before, but it was unique and eye catching. Your browned skin all but glowed as there was a window right behind your figure, the sun illuminating your very being. Your nails were thumping against the dull oak countertop in front of you as you softly bit your plump lip, your pearly whites slightly poking out. “You alright there mister?”

His body jolted causing a cough to rile up from the sudden movement. “Oh my god are you okay?” You asked again, this time worriedly. Your voice was damn near angelic, the sound of it bringing heat to his cheeks as he slammed his fist on to his chest to stop his wheezing.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.”

“You sure? Had a bit of a cough there.” Your eyes seemed like they were staring into his very soul as you laid a hand on his chiseled backside, rubbing light circles upon it.

“I’m fine! I can handle a little cough.” He roughly shook your hand off of his back, face becoming more crimson by the minute.

“Hm, I can see that big guy.” You chuckled, gesturing the bartender over. “Hi, may I have some booze please? I’ve been craving some for the longest!”

The male nodded, cheeks turning pink at the slight groan you let out. “Y-yes ma’am, I’ll get right to it!”

“Thank you love!”

“Oi!” Zoro quickly called out, watching as the bar man rolled his eyes before sending him a full smile and a slight nod. “I need more booze.”

“Coming right away sir.” The man grumbled, reaching upwards to retrieve two mugs.

“You seemed to have irritated the man a bit.” You quipped, letting out a small thank you as the very man you mentioned handed you your drink.

“Not my fault he hates his job.” Zoro replied back, muttering out a thank you as well as his drink was set in front of him.

“I don’t think it’s the job he hates.” You smirked, licking your lips of the residue booze.

“Yeah whatever.”

Silence overtook the both of you as you indulged in your liquor, you yourself starting to feel a slight buzz around your fifth mug. “You still drinking?” You questioned, glancing over at the green haired male beside you.

He shot you a quick look, cheeks red from what you assumed was caused from his alcohol intake. “Yeah, surprised you can keep up with me, you damned woman.”

You scoffed, leaning closer to his flushed face, the red of his cheeks increasing with the closing distance. “Oh please, I could out drink your ass in an instant.” You announced cockily, nose scrunching at the smell of alcohol coming from his breath.

He cackled at the sentence, body shaking from complete and utter shock at what he believed to be an incorrect statement, though he guessed he’d have to find out. “Oh really? Is that a challenge?”

“You bet it is moss head.”

“Oh it’s on.”

Drink after drink, you two continued to down as many mugs as you could, the burn intensifying with each gulp. You took a sharp breath as you hastily drank another one, hearing cheers from the spectators, bets circulating on which person would win the battle. After about 56 mugs, Zoro lightly tapped chipped oak countertop, causing you to whoop in victory, screams erupting from the onlookers.

“Ha! Told you I would win!”

Zoro giggled, pushing his body from the wooden stool. “Damn, never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m surprised my damn self, you can drink your ass off.” You smiled, flipping your intricately braided hair off of your shoulder.

“Well, it was nice drinking with ya.” The male declared as he trotted out of the bar, sending a small wave your way.

“Wait! You can’t just leave!” You rushed after him, hands clammy and mouth dry as you forced your legs to work properly enough to be able to run after the male. Though Zoro did hear your outburst, he decided to continue walking, once again kicking up dust as he wandered about. Your footsteps grew heavier, the affects of the alcohol you drank just now washing over you. You began to walk sluggishly, soon tripping, sending your body tumbling into Zoro’s.

“H-hey! What the hell?!” He firmly grabbed your plush waist, unintentionally pulling you flush against his toned body.

His cheeks heated up once again as his eyes settled along your face, your eyes glazed over, bottom lip slightly red, most likely irritated from the amount of times your teeth have harshly dug into them. “You...you alright?” His fingers traced pathways along your skin, trailing lines and circles as you both continued to stare at one another.

Soon you leaned forward, capturing your lips with his, the taste of alcohol dancing along your tongues. Heat trailed throughout your body, hands settling on top of his as you continued to embrace one another. The kiss was hot and messy, teeth clashing more than once, though neither of you minded, you simply continued to take in every single bit of each other.

You eventually pulled apart, both of you heaving from the intensity of it all. You both stared at each other’s slightly dulled irises, gazing upon the possibilities of this new relationship, or whatever you’d like to call it.

“Y/N”

“Mhm?” Zoro cocked his head sideways, rubble rubbing against the back of his scalp from the movement.

“My name, it’s Y/N.” You repeated, ruffling the males hair to shake off the excess debris.

Zoro hummed in response, cheeks flushing for what seemed to be the thousandth time today. “My names Zoro.”

notes: idk wtf is going awn in this fic lmfao 💀

taglist: @izvana @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @0risha @blackweebtrash @katsumox @kazuluvr @yuujisbby @manjiiroll @asaincy @namjoonswifeyy @angiebug101 @amethyst09 @sisifromthed @lilsparkyswife @morosis-haze @solar3lunar @lightofcordonia

[mothandpidgeon]

Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader

Words: 2865

Rating: VERY E 18+!

Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York

Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.

a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.

Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!

Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.

It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.

It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.

Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.

The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.

You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.

There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.

“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.

When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.

You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.

“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.

You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.

“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.

Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.

“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.

With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.

“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.

You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.

Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.

“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.

You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.

His lips curled into a smile.

“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.

Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.

“Show them to me,” he commanded.

Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.

“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.

He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.

“Give them to me,” he said.

Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.

You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.

He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.

“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.

You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.

Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.

“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.

“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.

Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.

He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.

You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.

He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.

When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.

“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”

He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.

“Professor,” you tried.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.

“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.

“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.

You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.

As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.

You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.

“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.

You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No,” he confirmed.

He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.

“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”

He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.

Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.

“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”

He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.

“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.

You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said.

“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”

You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.

“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.

For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.

He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.

You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.

“Fuck,” he said.

That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.

He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”

Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.

“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.

You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.

“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”

Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.

He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.

You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“Please,” you begged.

He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.

“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.

You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.

This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.

He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.

You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.

“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.

You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.

“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.

You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.

You got an A.

-----

tagging some folks: @pascalslittlebrat @mouthymandalorian @starlightmornings @purplepascal042 @originallaura @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @tuskens-mando @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @goddessinwolfskin @stevie75 @yespolkadotkitty @danniburgh @221bshrlocked

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Winter Sunshine

Haley (Stardew Valley) x They/Them Reader

A/N: As far as warnings go, the only thing that may not be your cup of tea are the suggestive themes in the last bit of the fic like, last couple sentences. Nothing explicit. Hope you enjoy! Also I’m adding word counts now because it's even a surprise to me how much I’m actually writing on the tiny screen of my phone lol. Word Count: 1,672

“This better be worth it.” Haley grumbled to herself as she trudged through the slushy snow. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself did nothing to fight back the bone chilling wind that burned her nose and cheeks, relentlessly blowing her hair into a tangled mess and undoing the hour long efforts to make it look nice for her farmer.

“It’s their fault I’m out here in the first place. If they have a problem with my hair, I’ll tackle them to the ground and give them a whitewashing they’ll never forget,” Haley told herself. In previous winters, nothing could make Haley leave the warmth of the home she shared with her sister. The snow while admittedly charming, somewhat romantic, did not impress Haley at all. Not when it meant she would have to freeze her ass off. There was no beach combing or sunflowers in winter, ice cream lost its appeal, and her photography suffered because again, it was too cold! Mittens made her clumsy, Haley would hate to lose her camera in a snowbank. Even with her mittens, her fingers felt frozen. It simply wasn’t worth it. But for her farmer, she would brave the ice and snow just to see their stupid, cute, face.

It was only five in the evening, but the sun was already good as gone. The faint glow of (Y/n)’s porch light helped guide Haley through the frigid fields, her boots finally clomped onto the the solid steps of the porch. She stomped her feet to kick the snow free from her boots, thuds resonated off of the sturdy wood.

The noise stirred movement from inside the house. The front door swung open revealing the farmer, looking, in Haley’s humble opinion, overly enthusiastic.

“Haley, you made it!” (Y/n) grinned, stepping out of the warm house and closing the door behind them much to Haley’s dismay.

“What are you doing? You aren’t even wearing a coat, it’s freezing!” Haley scolded, wrapping her arms around the farmer for no other reason than to keep them warm. No ulterior motives here.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be plenty warm where we’re going. So, you think you can walk a couple dozen more yards?” (Y/n) asked, fixing a couple of Haley’s stray hairs.

“Ugh, if I must.” Haley groaned.

“You don’t have to. We could just head inside right now and have warm tea and cuddles. Far be it from me to tell you what you have to do,” (Y/n) laughed and Haley rolled her eyes.

“Let’s just go already. If I have to stand here any longer I’m going to lose my finger and toes to frostbite.” Haley bounded off down the steps, nearly falling backwards after she hit a patch of ice. Luckily (Y/n) caught her, smiling down at the blonde in their arms, they helped her regain her footing and took her hand.

“This way,” they said. (Y/n) would have loved to tease Haley with some cheesy line about falling in love and the like, but Haley’s patience was already running thin. Best not to comment on the close call and just take it in stride.

(Y/n) guided Haley to the opposite end of the farm, becoming more excited with every step, earning a look from their companion that was equal parts suspicious and amused.

“Where are we even going?” Haley asked.

“You’ll see. Almost there. If you look ahead, you might see it.”

Haley squinted against the darkness and sure enough, she saw a large building looming just ahead.

“I can’t believe it. Did you commission Robin to build another barn?” Haley asked, incredulously.

“Not quite!” (Y/n) chirped.

“You have wayyy to much free time on your hands now that winter is in full swing. Just what have you been up to?”

(Y/n) didn’t answer, instead picking up the pace and tugging Haley closer. Ignoring Haley’s complaints until they stood in front of the large glass building.

“Whoa,” Haley breathed out once she finally caught her breath. “How did you manage this?” She asked, not disguising the awe in her voice.

“Let’s just say I got a little help from some friends,” They shrugged, “Do you like it?”

“You didn’t just drag me further out in the cold to look at the outside of a greenhouse did you?” Haley asked. “Let me in and I’ll think about giving you an answer.”

“Alright, you drive a hard bargain.” (Y/n) nodded. “But could you do something for me first?”

“You’re stalling. It’s winter and I’m dying of cold, and you’re stalling.” Haley stated dramatically. “Hey!”

(Y/n) laughed and pulled Haley’s knitted hat over her eyes. They took Haley’s hands before she could pull it back up and give (Y/n) a piece of her mind.

“Come on, just for a second, I promise.” (Y/n) swore. Haley scoffed and allowed herself to be tugged forward.

Haley heard the door open and she couldn’t help the relieved sigh that escaped her lips as a humid warmth enveloped her body. (Y/n) led her further into the space, then let go of her. They quickly moved behind Haley to shut the door then came back to hug Haley from behind.

“Okay, you can look now.” (Y/n) said. Haley could detect a slight tremor in their voice as they spoke against her ear. Were they nervous? Why?

Haley pushed her hat back and blinked, rubbing her eyes over the harsh brightness of the lights. (Y/n) must have turned them on. Once she regained her sight, Haley’s eyes blew wide at the sight before her.

“(Y/n), oh my Yoba!” Haley gasped.

“Surprise! Do you like them?” (Y/n) asked, wringing their hands.

Haley turned to look at them, her features painted with ecstatic disbelief. “Are you kidding? I love them!” Haley smiled so brightly (Y/n) couldn’t help but match her enthusiasm full heartedly. “I mean, sunflowers, growing in the dead of winter. It’s amazing!”

Haley turned away from (Y/n) again and walked up to the nearest sunflower, growing just as well as it would have on any normal summer or fall day. She touched its petals gingerly and felt its warmth work its way through her very soul. How had she been so lucky to find someone as attentive and endlessly sweet as the farmer behind her?

She felt the arms snake around her again and she eagerly held them to her stomach, anything to show how much this gesture meant to her.

“I’ve been thinking about you and winter a lot lately. You’re right in saying that the season gives me quite a bit of free time.” (Y/n) spoke in a soft tone resting their chin on Haley’s shoulder. “And I thought that maybe, this could give you something to look forward to when the snow and ice have got you down.”

Haley turned in (Y/n)’s arms and wrapped her own over (Y/n)’s shoulders, clasping her hands behind their neck. “I love it, I really do and I love you too, so much. Yoba, how am I ever going to get you something even close to this!” She whined, burying her face in the farmer’s chest.

“Haley, just having you here to share this with is more than enough for me,” (Y/n)’s voice wavered again and Haley looked into their eyes.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Why are you so nervous?”

“I also had another idea of how to make winter special for us. Something that would help you have memories to look back on fondly every winter. I’m just-“ they took a deep breath, “man, I was so ready this morning but now that the time is finally here-“

Haley silenced (Y/n) with a kiss. It was chaste, quick, but it helped (Y/n) ground themself.

“Come on, you’ve fought monsters in the deepest, darkest parts of the mines from here to the Calico Desert. You shouldn’t be scared of your own girlfriend.” Haley giggled good naturedly, earning a chuckle from (Y/n) as well.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” (Y/n) simpered. They stepped out of Haley’s hold and reached into their shirt pocket. Withdrawing their fist, they presented it to Haley who analyzed the closed fingers intently. “Haley, in the dead of winter, where all is cold and dark, will you become my warmth, my light, will you marry me?” (Y/n) opened their clenched fist and Haley’s hands flew to her mouth as the bright blue pendant was revealed.

“(Y/n)!” Haley cried, her voice muffled by her gloved hands. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” She lunged forward, grasping (Y/n)’s back for dear life and buried her face in their neck.

“Really?” (Y/n) sniffled holding Haley just as tightly.

“Of course! Nothing would make me happier!” Haley asserted, pulling away just a hair, “Please help me put it on.” She frantically took off her scarf, mittens, coat, and hat, throwing them off to the side. Then she turned away from (Y/n) and held her tangled hair up, allowing her newly betrothed to slip their hands through her arms and secure the pendant around her neck. Haley turned the shell in her hand and laughed breathlessly. She turned and launched herself back into (Y/n)’s arms for a kiss much more involved than the last.

“I love you,” Haley said again, holding (Y/n)’s face in her hands, a small, mischievous smile gracing her lips. She pulled away from (Y/n) and much to the other’s confusion, she walked backwards into the tall sunflower stalks until (Y/n) couldn’t see her.

“Haley?” (Y/n) called after a moment of silence. Somewhere from the back of the greenhouse, (Y/n) could see a shirt get tossed into the air before fluttering back down into the dense vegetation and they couldn’t help but laugh. “Wouldn’t you rather do this back at the house?”

“We’d have to go outside first, by the time we got back I might not be feeling so generous.” Came the faint reply.

(Y/n) watched as another article of clothing was thrown upward and swallowed thickly. They grabbed Haley’s winter coat from the floor and darted into the crops, following the sound of giggles and rustling leaves.

[kitababie]

pathetic - suna rintarou

an // been slowly working on this one for awhile now, @undermattsun has given me skate rat brain rot sooo here we are they’re a dark content blog so please proceed with caution and dni if you’re a minor

wc // 1.5k unedited cause i suck, sorry

tw // smut, alcohol and drug use, reader doesn’t cum cause suna is a meanie ;(( but obviously all characters are aged up.

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT (like, comment or rb) IF YOU ARE A MINOR i’m really not comfortable with it at all so please go read my fluff instead

It was pitiful really, the way you cling onto every word he spat at you, jumped at every opportunity to see him even if he spent the whole time hardly acknowledging you. He did acknowledge you when others tried to chat you up, you were stuck in a loop. You were almost giddy now, when you went to parties with him and someone got a little too handsy, you enjoyed the glint in his usually bored eyes, you must mean something to him right? That glint and the fact that he kept you around was enough for you to keep hoping.

So maybe you got a little overzealous tonight agreeing to this particular party; well, party is a generous term, it was just Suna’s group with a few plus ones hanging out in one of their basements.

You did have a bit of an alternative motive, which was pretty pitiful. But what else can you do? You just couldn’t kick your Suna addiction and he really didn’t seem to look twice at you until you had another guy trying to get in your pants.

So you had no choice but to flirt up a storm with one of his friends right?

-

The basement was half lit and smelled like old smoke and years of built up must. It didn’t seem familiar, or maybe you had been here and couldn’t remember the night, nevertheless you made your way further into the basement. There were a few small groups, some with faces you’ve seen before and some not. It wasn’t hard to find the half hooded eyes you were looking for.

He looked in your direction for a split second, nodding ever so slightly at your presence before bringing his attention back to lighting the small pipe in his hands.

How he always managed to make your heart race and stomach ache in anticipation with only a half assed nod, you would never understand. Your normally quick witted demeanour felt worlds away when you were near Suna. You headed to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink.

As you neared the kitchen, which was only a deep freeze, mini fridge and a few cabinets overhanging the mismatched countertops that were heavily cluttered with empty and full bottles and cans of alcohol alike. There were only two other people in the room, you recognized them to be the ‘infamous’ Miya twins.

They were in a heated discussion about...something. You really couldn’t hear anything to provide any proper context, which admittedly was probably for the best. The blonde-Atsumu right?- was more upset looking than his counterpart but they were equally loud.

Before you knew it there was an empty can being launched across the room, narrowly missing your head as you duck down.

“Oi! Next time look where you’re throwing!” You mumble an ‘asshole’ as you reach for the closest bottle of booze with the intention of mixing a drink.

Atsumu was quick to forget his argument and sauntered over to you, standing on the over side of the island countertop.

“Aw ’m sorry doll, how about I make ya a drink to make up for it?” He sported a lopsided smirk as he rested his head on his palm, leaning closer to you in the process.

You smirked back “depends on the drink I guess”

“How about I make it and you tell me how much of an amazing bartender I make?”

A ‘tch’ could be heard beside you, you jumped for a second not realizing the gray haired brother had made his way beside you.

“Shut it ‘Samu!” The blonde roared as he started pouring the drink.

“Didn’t even say anything ya idiot” his voice was low and rich. He side eyed you for a moment, you could practically feel his gaze rack up your body.

A cup sliding towards you snapped your attention away from Osamu.

Rum and coke, you conclude as the drink hits your taste buds, a very strong one at that. You thank Atsumu for the cup and try to bid the twins farewell.

“Ah come on don’t run away just yet, pretty lady” the quieter brother mused, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer. His body heat radiated towards you as he rests his hand on your waist.

“I have to go back to my...friend though” the hesitation made Osamu raise an eyebrow. ‘...friend’ as the only title you could come up with though, you only rolled your eyes as an answer.

“y/n.”

Speak of the devil. You spin around at the familiar monotone voice. Suna looked less than pleased, and definitely not sober, eyes burning a hole on the hand resting on your waist. You wiggled away from the younger twin and took ahold of Suna’s lazily outstretched hand.

“Till next time pretty boys! And thanks for the drink.” You wave them off as the raven haired male pulled you back to the grimy couch he was seated at earlier. You didn’t miss the eye roll he gave at your nickname for the twins. He slumped down on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, his hands on your thighs and hip. He loved being able to hold and claim you in front of everyone, he was rarely this clingy when it was just the two of you.

You chatted a bit with his friends who were also plopped down near the couch, it was hard to focus as you finished off your drink, you mental cursed yourself for not eating most of the day and letting the liquor go straight to your head. Your face felt warm and your thoughts felt more distant. All you think about were Suna’s hands that crept higher on your thigh and the one that made its way under the hoodie you had stolen from him a week back.

“Let’s get outta here.” He muttered out.

You turn back to look at him and say “I just got here Suna.” You protested lightly.

“I think you’ve socialized enough, we’re going.”

He pushed you off and you fumbled the landing a little, feeling the buzz hit your head harder than before now that you’ve stood up. He gripped the fabric of your sleeve and led the way.

It was dark out now, maybe you were there longer than you thought… Suna was still harshly tugging you towards his piece of shit car, you often told him that he’d end up on the side of the road one of these days and he just replied that if you didn’t like it you could walk.

“Think you’re cute huh? Chatting up the dumbass twins, stealing my clothes too” he pushed you against the side of the car, trapping you in between his arms. He had his same bored expression as his hand slipped back under the hoodie and pawed at your chest.

“Mm just trying to get your attention” you slur out with a low moan at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

“That desperate for some dick? Pathetic.” You lazily nod, too embarrassed for words but more than happy that you succeed in getting his attention. He lifted your legs, making you wrap them around his hips. Slowly he grinds against you, desperate you pulled him into a sloppy kiss. A breathy groan left your lips feeling him grow harder against you. Suna was never one for much foreplay however, he was quick to lower your bottoms and shift your panties out of the way.

“Wait Rin someone could see” you realized quickly as he shifted to get his erection free. He gave no warning as he slowly bottomed out in you. He laughed quietly “what don’t want anyone to see you so disparate for a scubbag like me to fuck you? I could call your pretty boys out. I’m sure they’d love to see you like this, practically crying because you can’t handle a little bit of cockwarming.”.

He was right, you were a mess. You tried to move your hips needing friction, his body was unmoving though. “Rin please” you whine out “just make it quick…” you bury your face in his neck, at least if someone came out they wouldn’t be able to see your face.

“As you wish” he muttered before finally moving his hips, his thrusts were fast and unrelentingly. You hung off of him trying your best not to moan, he just fit inside of you so well and his consistent rhythm was more than enough to start the coil building in your core.

He hissed when you clenched around his cock. He pulled your head away from him, hand holding your hair tightly. He couldn’t get enough of your fucked out face, spurting out strings of uneven moans.

You tried to match his pace but gave in as his thrust became more unpredictable and rough, you whimpered realizing he was close. Reaching down to rub your clit you huffed as his hand left your hair to grab your hand and pin it against the car.

You whined out his name, he only ignored you as his face began to scrunch and let out a silent moan as he came inside of you. You huffed once more and let your head fall into his heaving chest.

“Asshole.”

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 2

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~2900

Warnings: Elevators, Angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Steve POV

“The 911 operator I was talking to had this great idea to use the hose to pull the little girl across the water to get her out of the pool,” Steve reminisced, sitting at the big island in the kitchen watching Sam cook.

“Dude, I was there, remember,” Sam replied.  “And hasn’t it been like a week since that happened?”

“Yeah, but it was such a clever idea. I didn’t even know they could see the whole house on their monitors.”

“Who cares! It’s probably some fancy technology not available on the market yet, but if I'm hearing this correctly, it sounds like she popped Stevie’s dispatcher cherry,” Bucky joked behind him.

Steve peeked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “My what cherry?”

“You know when you talk to a dispatcher on the phone while on scene. Danvers takes those calls most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, one of us takes it.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. “Who was the operator?”

“Um...YN.”

“Oh, my sister,” Thor announced in a deep voice, patting him on the shoulder and taking the stool next to him. “She is very intelligent.”

“Wait, you have a sister?” Steve asked, widening his eyes at him.

“I have two sisters, while one half-sister, but we don’t talk about her because she’s the worst,” Thor answered with pursed lips. “YN is the best though, I like to think she got the brains, I got the brawn, and well, I guess, that makes Loki the beaut of the family.” He nodded with a half shrug. 

“Are we still talking about how Rogers popped his dispatcher cherry,” Carol smirked, walking into the kitchen with Valkyrie. Steve felt his face heat up as he tried to say something, but she held her hand up. “It’s okay! Everyone remembers their first time,” She winked, forcing him to shake his head.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Steve held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide the blush on his face.

_____________

You swiveled back and forth in your chair, waiting for the next call to come in. You had a half-hour left of your twelve-hour shift, and you needed a girls' night out. Living with your brother and Darryl was both a blessing and a curse. They offered you a place to stay, rent-free when you first moved here, but the amount of testosterone in that house was sometimes too much for you to handle. You tapped your fingers on your desk when your line started ringing. You sat up, letting out a deep breath, and pressed the spacebar.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello,” a male voice replied.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m making a turkey and was wondering what the internal temperature has to be?”

“You do know it’s against the law to call with a fake emergency, right?”

“Yes, but this is an emergency.”

“No, it’s not, so get off my line.” You hung up the line, shaking your head. Right away, another call came through, and you answered it. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Hi, hello. My friends are trapped in the elevator. The elevator must have snapped or something because there was this loud bang.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Natural History Museum. Please hurry!”

____________

Steve sat in his unassigned assigned spot at the dining table, eating a late lunch with the team. It was the cardinal rule at Station 107: Work as a team and eat as a family. Steve never thought he'd be able to find another firehouse he enjoyed working at, considering his previous teammates and friends at his old one. He hated leaving them behind, but he needed a fresh start, and so far, Station 107 was the best second home he could ask for. 

Everyone brought something to the team as every firehouse did.  Captain Danvers, or Ace as she preferred to be called in the field, brought her confidence and experience, which made for a great leader they could trust and rely on. Thor had his strength and his bravery, but he did have an ego. Sam was a great motivator and could keep everyone on task while still cracking jokes. It was no wonder Sam was the head EMT at this firehouse. Valkyrie was a badass and wasn’t afraid to put people in their place. As for Bucky, Steve knew he would always be there for him till the end of the line. 

The loud alarm blaring throughout the firehouse pulled Steve out of his stupor. Everyone knew what that sound meant, and they were ready to tackle whatever it might be. One after another, they slid down the firepole, pulled on their gear, and hopped in the truck, heading towards the scene. It wasn’t unusual to take calls that didn’t involve fire because whoever could get there the fastest was better than no one showing up at all. 

Thor hopped behind the driver's seat of the fire engine, pulling out of the garage. Carol sat beside him, giving him directions while speaking with the dispatcher through her headset. The sirens were wailing with Val and Sam behind them in the ambulance. 

“Alright, boys. We got an elevator crash at the Natural History Museum,” Carol said into her helmet mic after speaking with dispatch. “Dispatch says three students and their pregnant teacher are inside.”

“What’s the plan, Ace?” Steve asked into his helmet mic, concealing the siren blaring in the background. 

“I have contacted the museum's elevator technician, and he has already locked and tagged the power on the cars. The car sits near the basement level, so we will approach from the top in the lobby. I want Thor on the winch…”

“Ahh---what,” Thor interrupted her.

“Calm down, big guy, you can have the next one.” She gave him the side-eye, making the rest of the crew chuckle. “Steve and Bucky are going to do an immediate retrieval and approach from the top. Sam and Val will set a perimeter and then treat those who come up. Then, I will help with the retrieval, and Thor with the winch,” she stated with the last part dripping in sarcasm.

“It still hurts,” Thor added, taking a right at the intersection.

Once on-site, everyone grabbed their gear and took their positions.  Steve and Bucky strapped on their harnesses and helmets, switching on the flashlight. They started scaling down the elevator shaft from the lobby as Thor lowered them on the winch with the retrieving rope.

“How we looking, Steve?”

“Sexy, but not like we are trying too hard, but it’s more kind of effortless.” 

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen Steve’s ass in that harness. It could be American’s Ass or more like LA’s Finest Ass,” Sam commented with a whistle, echoing in the shaft. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Steve landed on the top of the elevator, unhooking himself while Bucky did the same.  “I’m down and unattached.”

“That’s what she said,” Carol responded with her head appearing in the shaft.

Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “Classic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and used his other flashlight to find the hatch on top of the elevator. He unclipped the lock, opening the hatch door, seeing the top of the lights. “I’m Fireman Rogers, please move towards the buttons. I’m going to kick the light out, so we can get you out of there.” It took a few kicks, but once it fell through, a few faces peeked up at him.  “How are we doing in there?”

“Oh my god, thank god, you’re here. I thought we were gonna die,” one of the kids replied, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Calm down, Flash. Everything is fine,” the pregnant woman reassured. “Right?” She looked up at Steve with worried filled eyes, and he nodded.

“Watch out, I'm coming down.” Steve crawled down into the hatch, and Bucky passed him the spare harness.  “Ma’am, you’re going up first, but first we need to get you strapped into this harness, then we’ll pull you up.” She nodded, trusting him, and allowing him to put the harness on her before Thor used the winch to pull her up.

“Okay, boys, who's going to go next?”

“I’m next,” the one they called Flash stated.

“Okay, then, how about you with the cool hat.”

“Thanks, it gives me confidence,” the kid smiled.

“And then, you,” Steve pointed to the kid wearing a Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt.

“Um...yeah--” he nodded a little too much. “--Yeah...I can go last. Get everyone else to safety first.”

“Perfect.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

___________

It turned out to be a quick rescue, and no one suffered any major injuries. Steve took some gear out to the truck and started repacking it when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around, noticing the kid in the Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt wrapped in an ambulance blanket. 

“What can I do for you, kid?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. I’m...I’m Peter Parker.” He held out his hand, and Steve shook it. “I just wanted to say thank you...thank you for saving my teacher and my friends back there. We’re on our school trip from New York, and this was an adrenaline rush experience.” Peter held up his hand, and Steve noticed it shaking.

He chuckled. “It will wear off.”

“It felt like that opening scene of that old action movie. Where John Wick saves those people that were trapped in the elevator after the bad guy tried to blow them up with a bomb. They don’t catch him obviously because it’s the opening scene, but later he puts the bomb on the bus, and that Bird Box lady has to keep driving like fifty-five miles an hour, or the bus will blow up.”

“I know the one. I think you’re thinking of Speed, but I don’t think it’s that old.” 

“Yeah, yeah, that one,” he chuckled, pointing his finger at him. “It’s kind of old, I mean you’re kind of old, so it’s kind of old to you, but to me, it’s kind of new because I’m not that old.” He rambled on, his eyes widening, realizing what he was saying. 

“Peter, come on. The museum is going to show us some never before seen stuff because we almost died,” the kid with the cool hat shouted from across the street. 

“Coming, Ned,” he yelled back. “Thanks again, Fireman Rogers, and sorry about calling you old. I didn’t...”

“It’s okay, kid, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Steve watched Peter run back over to his friends with a smile on his face. It was these moments when he loved his job, watching friends and families reunite after a tragedy. It was these moments where he felt like it could almost fix what he lost. 

______________

You sighed, taking a seat at your usual spot at the end of the bar in Happy’s Hydrant. Happy noticed you right away and smiled, giving you a bottle of beer. You thanked him with a nod, taking a sip, and scanning the crowd. It wasn’t unusual to spot a familiar face, considering this bar was created for the heroes of Los Angeles. It welcomed all those members who served or are currently serving as first responders, but civilians were welcome, too. It’s nice to have a place to go with people you could relate to and share similar experiences with after working a twelve or twenty-four-hour shift. They understand what we go through on a day to day basis. It was one of the many reasons Happy Hogan wanted to open this bar after he retired from his Fire Chief position at Station 12.

You swiveled back and forth on your bar stool until someone familiar on the other end of the bar caught your eye. You stopped moving, your eyes not wavering from the man. Your mouth went dry, hearing your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You gulped, feeling your palms start to tingle as the muscles in your legs start to tighten. Every nerve in your body was firing, telling you to run, but it felt like if you moved an inch, he would see you, and these past three months would’ve been for nothing. He glanced your way for a brief moment, and relief flooded your whole body. You relaxed, squeezing your eyes shut as you took a few deep breaths in and out. It wasn’t him. 

The weight of someone touching your shoulder makes you jump off your bar stool, and turn around to see one of the ladies you were waiting for.  “Hey, it’s only me.” Carol held up her hands in surrender, giving you a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I forgot how jumpy you can be.”

“It’s okay. Lost in my head again.” You nodded, returning to your barstool.

“Thanks for giving my transfer a chance to be the shining star of my squad last week.” She nudged your side, flagging down Happy for a drink.

“Your what...with what,” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“The pool, the hose, the little girl stranded on a floaty with the water electrified. Ringing any bells?”

“Ohhh, right. That one.” You took a sip of your beer. “Fireman Rhodes or was it Ronin?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” You pointed the neck of your beer bottle at her and nodded. “You made quite an impression on him. He can’t stop talking about it, and it’s getting really annoying, but I guess you did pop his dispatcher cherry.” She nudged your side with an ever-growing smile on her face. You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head. “And if single you is interested, I am sure he is willing to mingle. At least, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not ready to start dating. I’m still trying to find myself after going through a terrible six-year marriage.” You gave her a half shrug, eyeing the bar. “When I am ready to date again, all I want is a nice guy.”

“Steve’s nice.  Hey, you should swing by one day before your shift and meet him,” she winked, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“I haven’t even filed for divorce yet.”

“Wait--” she turned on her stool to face you “--hasn’t it been three months? Why not?”

“I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

“Doesn’t he know where Thor lives?”

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Let's just say he didn’t take much interest in my life while we were together. Besides, I don’t think he'd think I’d go to Thor with how everything turned out the last time I went to him for help.

“What an asshole.” She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her beer, and you nodded.  “Well, at least you know you have an admirer,” she added, making you scoff.

“Hey ladies, sorry I’m late,” Natasha greeted, taking the other stool next to you. “Clint and I checked out this noise complaint a neighbor called in. And it turns out this guy was serenading his ex-girlfriend with hopes to win her back. It was this whole thing, and we wanted to stick around to see what happened next.” 

“So what happened,” Carol asked with curious eyes, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face.

“It was crazy.” She shook her head, letting out a breathy chuckle. “She came down and punched him in the face. Apparently, this dude cheated on her with, wait for it--” she drummed her hands on the bar countertop “--her brother. It was a twist I didn’t see coming, but talk about drama on duty. Sometimes I think it would be easier fighting fires or answering phones all day.”

“Oh please, Nat, you wouldn’t last a day. You would miss seeing the excitement first hand. Over the phone, you don’t get much excitement,” you replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Carol added, taking a swig of her beer. “You would love my job, Nat. You get to boss men around.”

“I kind of do that already. Besides, I don’t think I could leave Clint. He’d be lost without me,” she smirked, signaling Happy to make her a martini.

Natasha oozed confidence, which came off as intimidating to most women. When she walked into a room, all eyes were on her, but it was attention she chose to ignore. When men would buy her drinks, she'd take it to another lovely lady. Nat was all about lifting and empowering women to feel confident in their own skin. She wasn’t afraid to tell people to back off or shut up. She was the role model you wish you had when you were with him, then maybe you would've had the confidence and courage to leave sooner. 

“Here you are, Nat?” Happy pushed the martini glass to her. “Are you ladies still good?” He asked, pointing to the drinks in front of you.  

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, Happy,” you smiled at him as he walked away, shooting you a thumbs up. 

“How is apartment hunting going, YN?” Nat asked, taking a sip of her martini.

“Good, I found this cute little condo a few blocks away from work. It has a modern feel to it, but I think it would be perfect for me,” you described. “I loved it when I saw the pictures. The landlord is out of town right now, but she told me it’s mine if I want it.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Nat squealed, squeezing your forearm. “You need to get out of that testosterone-filled house and get on your own two feet again.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol agreed. “What’s your softie older brother going to think of you leaving?”

“I’m going to have to break it to him slowly.”

__________

AN: Thanks for reading part 2! I hope you all are liking it so far! If you caught it there was a quote from Brooklyn 99 that I thought was too good not to put in! 😂 Also, Darryl Jacobson, if you don't remember him, he was Thor's roommate in those Marvel shorts. I thought he would be a fun and entertaining addition to this story! Also, any ideas as to why Steve left his old firehouse? Did you enjoy the little Peter Parker cameo? And what do you think Thor is going to think of her moving it? Comments always welcome, thanks again for reading! 

[foramomentonly]

my roommate’s boyfriend is staying over so can I please sleep on your floor

CW: discussion of abuse; CW: discussion of homophobia

Dorm life is actually pretty quiet; every once in awhile, usually on weekends, there's someone throwing up in the bathroom or having loud, obnoxious sex that carries through the entire floor, but overall it's much more tame than Michael had expected. Which is why he and Max exchange hesitant looks when the elevator opens on their floor at 12:30 a.m. on a Wednesday to an angry voice crying out, "Open the door, you asshole!"

They step out of the elevator and start off down the hall, in silent agreement to keep their heads down and walk quickly by. But as they get closer to the source, a guy with dark hair, sneakers, and a pretty decent ass in tight, black jeans who slams his palm once on the closed door in front of him before turning and sinking to the floor next to it, Max slows, lifting his head and calling out to him.

"Hey," Max says, stopping in front of the slouched figure on the floor and waiting until he raises his eyes to take in Max, then Michael beside him. "Alex, right? From bio lab?" He nods slowly, lips pulling into a tense smile of recognition. "What's going on, man? You all right?"

Alex stands slowly, letting out a deep, frustrated groan and kicking the door behind him for emphasis as he answers, "I just got back from work and my roommate locked me out so he could get laid."

"Can you stay with a friend?" Max asks, but Alex shakes his head.

"My friends live on the girls' floor two up and their RA actually cares about the rules."

He sighs, runs a broad hand across his face and smiles a little sheepishly.

"It's fine," he says with a dismissive wave, "I'll sleep on the couch in the lobby."

"Nah," Michael says suddenly, "stay with us."

Max raises an eyebrow at him; it's the kind of thing Max would offer, not Michael, who locks their door when he runs to the communal bathroom down the hall and hates when Max brings friends over to study. He's protective of the small sliver of space he finally has to call his own, but that desperate feeling of having nowhere to go has stayed with him, and Michael sympathizes with the guy.

Alex seems equally suspicious of his motives, eyeing Michael with a wrinkled brow.

"No offense, but why are you inviting the dude banging on someone's door in the middle of the night to sleep in your room?"

Michael just his chin towards the closed door behind Alex and replies, "Valenti's your roommate, right?" Alex nods, and Michael scoffs. "He is an asshole. So you're probably okay."

Alex grins, sharp and a little mean, but Michael like the look of it as the smile spreads across his face.

"Ok, yeah," he replies, "thanks."

Max slips out to the showers as soon as Alex is settled, though he didn't end up having much to contribute. Alex is on the floor in Michael's sleeping bag, head resting on Michael's extra pillow, teeth freshly cleaned with Michael's emergency spare toothbrush. He'd refused pajamas, wriggling out of his jeans and sliding into the sleeping bag in underwear and his tee-shirt. Michael had tried not to notice that his ass looked even better in the tight, black cotton of his boxer briefs.

"So, is someone staying with you this weekend?" Alex asks, crossing his arms behind his head on the pillow.

Michael strips off his shirt and tosses it on the floor of his small closet.

"No, why?"

"Well, you had all this stuff ready," Alex explains, reaching down to run a hand over the synthetic fabric of the the bag.

Michael shrugs and turns around to fish an old pair of athletic shorts out of a drawer.

"I used to use it a lot," he says evenly. "When I needed to--to not be at home."

He looks over his shoulder and Alex has sat up, brow furrowed in confusion.

"But, isn't Max your brother?" he asks. "The way he always talks about his family--"

"It's complicated," Michael cuts him off, shutting the drawer and pulling off his jeans to add to the pile on his floor. "But, no, we didn't live together. I lived with a foster family until the dad busted me going down on another guy and kicked my ass for it."

He hears a sharp inhale of breath and turns around, finds Alex staring at him with a dark, inscrutable gaze and parted lips. Michael rolls his eyes.

"What, man?" he spits. "You gonna tell me you won't sleep on my floor cuz I suck dick?"

"No," Alex says, voice soft and firm. "No, I-that would be pretty hypocritical of me." He offers Michael a small smile, and Michael raises a brow, but his body releases some of the tension it had held only moments before.

"I see," he says, and Alex tilts his head, eyes wandering slowly down Michael's torso, flying back up again when Michael clears his throat pointedly.

"I just didn't realize we had so many, uh, similar experiences," Alex says, lashes fluttering as he stares down at his hands on top of the sleeping bag and peeks up at Michael.

Michael sighs, reading between the gaps in Alex's words.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Alex replies, and the silence between them weighs heavy with a strange mixture of grief and tension. Finally, Alex groans dramatically.

"Can you put some clothes on?" he asks. "You're, like, really hot, and I just can't have this conversation with you in your underwear."

Michael laughs, a loud, almost snort as he releases tension and anger and, strangely, elation, pushing it all out along with the air in his lungs. He smirks, deliberately tossing the shorts in his hand over his shoulder.

"We don't have to have that talk right now," he purrs, dropping onto his knees at the end of Alex’s sleeping bag. Alex's answering grin is wide and suggestive. Michael bites his lip. “Don’t have to talk at all."

Alex laughs, shaking his head, and Michael smiles. The offer was more of an exaggeration than a real come-on, an attempt to shake off the unexpected weight of the conversation and clear the shadows hovering in the dark corners of the space between them. Still, Michael’s pulse flutters when Alex sets a gentle hand on his shoulder and asks, voice low, “Some other time?”

Michael nods. 

“Call me next time Valenti’s in the shower,” he says with a wink, “I think you owe him one.”

[lunaserenade]

Cloak and Dagger

Masterlist

Author’s Note: The fic that no one asked for and took me a month to write 😂 Thank you to @reddead-trash, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @icanbeyourjedi, and @sugarontherims​ for enduring my ramblings and reading through my MANY drafts. Also I threw straight up shade to my Florida senator Rick Scott in this. *chef’s kiss*

Paring: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x F!Reader

Words:  2.2k

Warnings: None

Summary: To stop a corrupt politician you and Bucky must go undercover at a campaign fundraiser.

***

It was a warm and humid summer afternoon in Delacroix, Louisiana as Sam Wilson and James 'Bucky' Barnes worked idly on giving the ‘Paul and Darlene’ a fresh paint job. Bucky had come down to visit for the weekend, helping out wherever he could while he and Sam worked on finding new leads about a disturbing rumor they had been hearing. There were whispers of a scientist who was attempting to recreate the super soldier serum, although there had been attempts over the decades it was looking like this one was credible. The shrill ring of Sam's phone cut into the tranquil silence by the water, Bucky watched Sam Wilson with mild interest as he spoke quickly on the phone.

“Well I haven’t heard from you in a while. ” Sam said, an impish smile on his lips as he looked at Bucky. “That’s great news. I think I have the perfect person for you. We’ll be there tomorrow night.”

“... what did you just sign me up for?” Bucky said with a sigh as Sam hung up. 

“We’re going to DC to help a friend out. You’re going to need a suit.” Sam replied, entirely too amused for Bucky’s liking. 

***

True to his word the next evening Sam was knocking on your apartment door, greeting you with a huge hug and introducing you to his tall, dark, and very handsome friend.

“This is Bucky, he’s the one I mentioned. He’ll be fantastic back up.” Sam said, clearly getting great joy out of the situation.

“What exactly are we doing anyway?” Bucky said with a raised eyebrow.

“Sam told me to keep an ear to the ground about any rumors of someone trying to recreate the super soldier serum, while I was gathering intelligence on a possible corrupt senator from Florida I found out he’s funding it. Tomorrow night is a fundraiser for his reelection campaign, I need to sneak into his office and get the name of the scientist he’s funding so we can squash his reelection and this new attempt at the serum.” You explained as you took a seat in your living room with them.

“Too many people can recognize me on The Hill, I’ll be spotted easily. That’s why she needs you, someone who can go a little more unnoticed when needed.” Sam affirmed.

“And you’re positive this senator is the one masterminding the whole thing?” Bucky queried.

“Absolutely, he bounced the money through several dummy accounts, but we managed to track it back to him. I need you to meet me here tomorrow night, we’ll be going into the event as Mr and Mrs. Sandoval. I had a contact intercept their invitation so we could get in.” You said matter-of-factly. As you studied Bucky you found yourself suddenly looking forward to the event tomorrow night, having a gorgeous man in a suit by your side was definitely a perk. Especially one who you knew could keep up in a fight if needed, from what Sam had told you about him. You had heard of The Winter Soldier, hell who hadn’t, but you were never one to judge someone by their past. If Sam said he was solid, he was solid. 

“Sounds like you have this pretty planned out, what if something goes sideways?” Bucky asked

“I think both of us can handle thinking on our feet.” You said with an arched eyebrow. “Unless you’re having cold feet.”

“... I’ll be here at seven.” Bucky said with a small huff, slightly offended by your implication, much to your amusement. Sometimes a kick in the pride was all you need to get a man motivated.

***

You were attempting to zip up your dress when you heard the sharp raps on your apartment door, holding it closed with one hand you opened the door for Bucky with the other. It would be a blatant lie to say that the sight of him in the well-fitted suit didn’t make your mouth water and as you took in the full view of him with greedy eyes you saw he was smiling as he walked into the living room.

“Does the suit pass your inspection?” Bucky mused.

“You clean up well, sir.”  You replied with a coy smile. “Can you help me with this zipper, I can’t get it for the life of me.” 

“I-... of course.” Bucky stammered, slightly flustered as you turned around, your dress unzipped until right above the swell of your ass. Ever so careful he reached out and slowly dragged the zipper of your dress up, his fingers lightly grazing your back, giving you goosebumps. 

“Thank you.” You said, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks, as you turned to face him.

“What’s your plan for tonight?” Bucky asked as he attempted to adjust his tie.

“We need to get into his office, my contact said there is a folder with all the information I need in his desk.” You smirked and arching an eyebrow at Bucky.

“Sounds fairly straightforward. What’s the catch?” He queried.

“He is starting to suspect someone has been poking into his new ‘business venture’ so there is increased security on the office floors.” You gave him a sly grin “We need to get in and out without being seen. Although I’m not opposed to light violence if it comes to that.”

“Duly noted,” Bucky said with a laugh and he offered you his arm. “Are you ready for this?”

“Let’s take this bastard down.” You said, slipping your arm in his and headed out of the apartment.

***

The building had a beautiful conference center was absolutely gorgeous, you had to admit. High vaulted ceilings with the soft glowing light of chandeliers hung overhead as you and Bucky walked arm in arm, the click clack of your stilettos' on the tile echoing in the lobby with each step. A well dressed young man stood just in front of the entrance, taking invitations from the various guests as they entered. Bucky reached into his suit pocket and presented the gold leaf embellished invitation to him.

“Mr and Mrs Sandoval?” He asked as he checked his list.

“Indeed.” You replied and wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist, tucking yourself into his side. You had to be convincing, or at least that was the excuse you were going to use.

“Senator Scott thanks you for attending, enjoy your evening.” The young man stated as he gestured toward the room and stood to the side.

Bucky led you around the conference room, his hand resting on your lower back, as you both surveyed the room. You gave his side a light squeeze and nodded towards an ‘Employees Only’ door.

“There is supposed to be a stairwell through there. The senator’s office is on the seventh floor.” You said softly and Bucky nodded.

“Security looks light down here, mostly around the Senator, we should be able to slip through easily enough.”

“Famous last words.” You grinned and made your way towards the door, waiting for a moment outside before quietly slipping through. The two of you made your way quickly down the hall and into the stairwell. You quickly regretted your choice in footwear as you climbed the seven flights with Bucky, but managed to keep pace with him. Just as you were about to open the door to the seventh floor corridor Bucky reached out to stop you.

“Someone’s coming.” His voice barely above a whisper, he pulled you close and stepped behind the door. “I can knock him out but it won’t give us much time in the senator’s office before someone finds him”

"You know this is a stupid idea, right?" You said as you peered around him.

"I do." Bucky affirmed

"And that it could fail spectacularly, probably ending in injury?" You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"More likely his than mine, but yes." Bucky gave you a grin that could only lead to trouble.

"... alright let’s do this." You said, squaring your shoulders as you heard security approach the door. The poor security guard never stood a chance. As soon as the door shut behind him Bucky had him in a choke hold, a hand over his mouth to stop any cries for help. You were impressed, the ease and speed with which Bucky took him down was almost elegant. He lowered the now unconscious guard to the ground, just behind the door, and reached for your hand.

“Ready?” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

“Always.” His goofy confidence and glee rubbing off on you as you hurried down the hall hand in hand with him.

“This is his office, cover me.” You said quickly, hiking your dress up to reveal a thigh gun holster and a lock pick set tucked behind the gun against your leg. Bucky’s eyes raked over your body and he felt an expected surge of lust run through him as he turned to block you from view and keep a lookout. Within a minute you had the lock picked and held the door open for him.

“Age before beauty.” You grinned at him and gave a wink, earning an eye roll in return. 

The office was large, a wall of books sitting behind the senator’s desk,

“How long do you think we have?” You muttered as you began to pick the lock of the desk.

“Three or four minutes, tops.” He replied, listening closely at the door for any sounds of movement outside the office.

“Good, I only need two.” The lock turned with a click and you quickly riffled through the drawer. “Ah ha! I’ve got it. Let’s get the hell out of here before we get caught.”

The pair of you quickly exited the office, Bucky’s hand lingering on your lower back as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if it was the cool metal of his hand on your lower back giving you goosebumps or being so close to him, but there was no time to sort through that as you heard voices coming from down the hall.

“Have you seen Brady? I didn’t see him on the rounds on the sixth floor.” A male voice said and you felt your heart race. There was no way to sneak out without being seen and you needed to think quickly. You backed up against the wall and tugged Bucky close, his chest bumping lightly against yours as he steadied himself.

“What are you doing?” He whispered as you pulled him tightly against your body.

“Trust me, this is the only way we’re getting out without fighting our way out.” You said quickly and reached for his face, crushing your lips to his. You could feel him stiffen in shock at first but as he wrapped his arms around you he eagerly responded, parting your lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss. For a moment the world around you faded away as you tugged him closer, fingers threading through his hair until you heard security shout.

“HEY! YOU TWO! This is a restricted floor!” The guard shouted, as he stomped his way down the hall towards both of you. You pulled away from Bucky reluctantly, staring up into his blue eyes.

“I’mmmm sorry, We got a bit lost, didn't we baby?” You slurred your words dramatically, slipping into the role of a drunken couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Mmm, yes we did.” Bucky pulled you close, pressing a sloppy kiss to your hair. “Let’s go get another drink, honey.”

“I think you both have had more than enough.” The guard rolled his eyes, clearly fooled, and gestured to the elevator. “Come on, I think it’s time for the pair of you to leave.”

“Alriggggght alright, damn man. No need to get in a huff.” Bucky slurred, holding his hands up in ‘defeat’. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders he guided you to the elevator.

“Buzzkill.” You muttered at the guard as the door slid shut. The moment you were alone you rested your head on Bucky’s chest, his heart beating wildly and it wasn’t because of the guard. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

***

“Do you do this a lot?” Bucky murmured as you exited the building, a full moon hanging overhead in the evening sky.

“Break into government officials' offices for dirt or kiss gorgeous men to get out of a sticky situation?” You replied with an impish grin and shivering in the night air.

“Both.” He laughed as he tugged off his suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“I do what I need to to get the job done. As for the second part? You could always give me a call and find out.” You bit your lip, feeling bold.

“Maybe I will.” Bucky grinned and slipped a vibranium arm around your waist.

Bucky called the next night.

***

tagged: @diva-1992, @yespolkadotkitty , @sarahjkl82-blog, @seasonschange-butpeopledont, @mrsparknuts , @disgruntledspacedad, @mrschiltoncat, @giselatropicana , @sugarontherims , @cynic-spirit , @supernaturalgirl, @farfromjustordinary, @buckstaposition , @evelynseventyr,  @emesispo, @theamuz , @keeper0fthestars

[hobiwonder]

Bloom | 01

Genre: Hybrid!Namkook. fluorescence by @jincherie​ AU 

Pairing: foxhybrid!Namjoon x Reader x bunnyhybrid!Jungkook ;(

Warnings: language. mention of hybrid trafficing/being sold into sex trafficing, fluff holy shit, angst, Smut (future), very cuddly and shy jungkook, stuttery shy BOYS. I really just wrote this for me.

Words: 5k+

Summary: In a world where humanity is increasingly motivated by how much cash can be made off of... well anything, you’re a human and hybrid rights lawyer. You will do anything to save the ones that never had a choice  right from the date of their conception. Even if that means, adopting two hybrids that you absolutely did not mean to. 

a/n: hello hello im back from the dead iuhbIUHBUYBGUY okay so, yes this isnt baby baby but i am a bit behind on that so i really hope posting this instead can satiate my sluts for a few more days until i have that done. I have a lot of this written so I will post this on a semi-regular schedule. rest of the schedule i posted will stay the same. it’s just baby baby that’s kicking my BUTT!!!! Lastly, I started writing this before Goo Hara passed away. Opening this document made me a little sad and also happy when i remember Hara and her love for eco-friendly fashion. I guess, this is kind of a tribute to her? anyhow, I hope you guys like it. please please please, validate me. :>)

"Y/n they're going to be sold to this man who works for a black market. What do I do? Oh god. I-I didn't know our company was into that business."

Your best friend is nearing the point of tears and you can understand her frustration. "Listen, Hara, take a deep breath and tell me when exactly this is happening."

A deep breath is taken as you'd suggested, before you hear Hara's voice again through the phone. "Okay... Okay. I was just told by Minseok that there is an auction for the remaining two from the past failed batches. Apparently two others have been adopted and the rest have been pawned off somewhere. I'm not sure. From our division of the company, these two are the ones that have not gone for further testing to be open to the regular public. A-And so now there is a super secret auction happening tonight. It's not open to the regular public as you already know but staff members are able to attend. What do I do y/n? I can't afford them. I have my own to deal with. These poor boys will go to some horrible owner who will use them f-for god knows what."

Now Hara was crying. Openly and brokenly for the possible fate of these 'failed' hybrids that her company had produced. This was a sticky situation and even you, a Human and hybrid rights lawyer, had limited ideas as to what could be done on such a short notice. But you were not about to give up.

"Hara, don't. They will not be bought by some hybrid trafficker okay? I won't let it happen. I will... I will at least try. It's my job, remember?"

Your optimism is convincing enough. And you wholeheartedly believed that something would give. These big corporations had their toes in everywhere and you didn’t yet know if they had already had a designated buyer on the black market they pawned their hybrids off to. Where there was money to be made - no company had morals rigid enough to stop themselves from the temptation. You already lived in an age where human trafficking was no longer a cause for activism or big debates. Not when more species - man made or not - had been created to take advantage of.

“Okay yeah. You’re a badass lawyer, you must have something up your sleeve right?” Her voice is shaky but you confirm with an enthusiastic nod she can’t see.

“Of course! I’ll kick their asses. Surely this can’t be legal? No blackmarket is. Let me have a look at what can be done. I’m assuming you can bring a plus one tonight?”

“Yeah I-I was given a ticket. You’ll be coming with me right?”

“That’s why I asked, silly.” Her relieved chuckle brings a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll see you there. Don’t give up hope until I do, alright?”

“Okay... You’re right.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck this. Fuck my life.” The curses escaped your mouth left and right as you looked over the dozens and dozens of papers splayed out on your oak desk.

Even your comfortable office chair couldn’t stop the knot building up between your shoulder blades. This was bad. Really bad. Corporate law allowed unfit materials to be sold to third parties. What these third parties did with those materials - the company of origin was no longer liable for. In short: These hybrids were going to be bought by someone sketchy with a crystal clear profile and no paper trail unless someone bid higher and bought them.

None of these bastards were rookies. They had solid paperwork where necessary and it would be near impossible to prove their illegal activities when all of them took place on the dark web. A place that opened up more threats and risks than solutions. No legislation covered hybrid rights that weren’t even registered yet. Whoever bought them would have to register them and then the hybrids would be able to receive the minimum protection they had a right to.But you can bet your father’s company that whoever bought them will never register them. Essentially these hybrids will be wiped out from the system.

Fingertips tapping against the wood, each passing minute was precious time lost. it was already 5pm. You had to leave for the dreaded auction in less than an hour and hour and yet here you sat in your chair. Hands itching to do something other than pick up the phone and tell Hara that you were at a loss. What could you do? Who would take them? You didn’t know anyone that was ready to add not one but two hybrids to their household. And ones that were not fully approved to be released. You couldn’t just lie and pawn them off to just anyone. Then you would not be any better than the company trying to get rid of them.

Sighing, you pack up the papers and documents you had initially thought would help. They were of no use anymore. All you could do was go and offer support to Hara. Or Maybe you were going because you still had hope that there would be someone who would save those hybrids. Hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you but you had it. This was no time to wallow. So you smooth your skirt, touch up your makeup and put on your heels that had men double take.

Maybe you could scare and/or seduce these people in changing their mind?

You laugh at your absurdity, glancing in the mirror one last time before you leave with stacks of files in your hands. You could at least stall them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here.” I’m not so sure about that. Though you opt for a gentle smile and meet her embrace enthusiastically.

You can hear the sniffles coming from Hara who has her head buried in your shoulder. “Hey, no crying okay? No matter what happens.” The comment has her pulling back just as quickly.

“What do you mean? You have a plan for tonight r-right? Y/n..”

How could you do this? Lie to her? This was not fair on her. On anyone really. It wasn’t your fault and neither hers for whatever would happen tonight. She needed to know what to expect. As much as your heart clenched and ached to say the words you were about to; it was important to mentally prepare for the worst.

“Hara... I couldn’t find anything.” Your frown is apologetic. Trying to convey how really truly sorry you were but it doesn’t stop the tears from brewing up in her eyes.

“Oh.. I thought- thought they had a chance y/n.” You reach out for her hand, wanting to alleviate her hurt as soon as possible.

“I will at least try to see who will buy them okay? Don’t worry. We can keep an eye out on who gets them. They will be alive at least, right?” Your attempt at finding a silver lining doesn’t make her look any more reassured than you felt.

Glancing at your watch, you motion towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go before they try and kick us out.”

Hara nods, numbly leading the way towards an auditorium where several people had already taken their seats. You’re not sure how many people you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t... this. There were at best 10 people here. All ten seemingly looked like they knew each other. This could only mean one thing. That this sale was to some degree, arranged. As in, multiple buyers were from the same company posing as separate customers to maximise their chances of acquiring the hybrids.

“Hara, have you seen any of these people before?” Your whisper has her craning her neck to have a good look at all of the men sitting in the front few rows.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her furrowed brows turn to you instead, “Do you recognise any of them?”

Shaking your head, you follow her down the stairs to sit in the row behind the last pair of buyers who were sitting.

“Whoever they are... they don’t look like they are all strangers.” Hara is gripping on to your arm when she hears you, visibly nervous once again. “I’m just speculating, okay?”

Your attempt to ease her, once again, is not enough. But you don’t try again since you don’t even believe your own words. The auctioneer however, stops you from thinking further about the impending events of the night. The man stands in a lab coat, glancing at his watch before he brings his mouth closer to the mic on the dice.

“Let’s begin gentleman... and ladies.” He seems to be surprised to see you and Hara sitting at the back. And before he begins further, he motions someone. Another man approaches the auctioneer and listens carefully as the other whispers. A few seconds later, his eyes fall back to where you sat with your best friend.

Hara’s grasp on your arm tightens once again when the man heads to your general direction. On instinct, your back straightens, posture more solid than before so as to not give anyone the wrong impression that they can mess with you unwarrantedly.

“Excuse me Miss.?”

“Yes?” Your curt reply surprises him but he recovers fast, glancing towards Hara before talking to you again.

“Are you a guest of Ms. Hara?”

“Obviously.” Your unwavering gaze visibly unnerves him. It was obvious to anyone there but you had an idea this was some sort of test.

“May I see your ticket please?” His bogus smile annoys you more than it should. Nonetheless, Hara is fishing out the ticket from her purse and showing the man. He inspects it longer than he should and finally walks back to the auctioneer to let him know you had the right to be here.

“Who would do that if they weren’t running a hoax?” You ask Hara before you can stop yourself.

“Alright. Apologies for the delay. We will now begin. As you are all aware, we are auctioning two of our very elite hybrids from a rare batch. They have not progressed to the next stage of screenings and tests due to some technical difficulties. Thus, we are here to give them a chance at a new home rather than a painful end.” He looks in the audience for effect. Euthanasia is what he meant.

“These hybrids are fully functional however lack a few abilities they were initially designed for. Due to these technical issues deeming them failed to proceed, they are available for purchase at a much lower cost than what they are sold for on the market.” The auctioneer looks so smug the urge to smack his across the face is almost irresistible.

“Right, bring them out Wonho.” Everyone is watching carefully, waiting for the ‘failed’ hybrids and you don’t know what you were expecting.

Not what you see though. Definitely not. Because the two - tall - hybrids entering the stage are not what you expect. Peach and silver tones greet your eyes as well as incredibly sculpted faces.  The peach haired hybrid seems to cling to the silver haired one. The man leading the two hybrids seems to be frustrated with their slow pace, giving the peach haired hybrid a little shove and there is only so much you can do to not yell at the top of your lungs for him to get his hands off of them.

The man sighs, letting the two hybrids to just stand in the middle when the peach haired one does not stand apart from the other hybrid. While the shorter of the two hybrids - and much, much shyer - looks around anxiously at the people in the auditorium, the silver haired one has his features set in stone. His eyes don’t look alarmed, they don’t seem scared. He just looks numb. He stares ahead at the people sitting in front of him while the peach haired boy visibly shakes, breathing fast and eyes flitting across every surface. He takes a step back, hiding part of his body behind his silver haired companion for comfort.

“There you have them. The peach haired specimen is a Oryctolagus cuniculus or - a bunny in more simplistic terms. The silver haired specimen is an arctic fox, Vulpes lagopus. Both hybrids are off a rare species and very sought after on the market. Due to technical issues, once again, unfortunately, we are only able to sell them in a pair. They are useless on their own.”

The candid way the auctioneer speaks of them has your blood boiling. But what gets you more is the laughter that sounds in the auditorium. Did these assholes think they were funny? The hybrids - entirely human or not - were present in the room with them. Did they not have any ounce of respect for them? Hara was not faring any better. Watching with a frown as chatter continued among the buyers. The bunny looked even more disturbed, looking around at every man in the front few rows - before his eyes landed on you.

The gasp that leaves you is abrupt. His pained expression holds your gaze, eyes wide and chest heaving. The bunny jumps when the auctioneer speaks again.

“We will now start the bid at $1000. $1200 anyone?” Several hands go up before the auctioneer raises the price to $1400.

Bald, greasy men exchanging glances and crude remarks as they talk amongst themselves. Your heart is thumping, your blood thinning. With each passing second, your throat seems to be closing up. There was nothing you could do to save them, was there? The further the price went up, the more panicked and distraught the bunny looked, gripping his fox companion harder, hiding behind him even more. The silver haired fox looked much like what you had stopped Hara from looking only this morning. Hopeless. His mouth was set in a thin line - just taking in the scenario in front of him. It was obvious he saw his fate before his very eyes and instead of futilely hoping that someone would save them - he stares his aggressors in the eyes.

“Brilliant! We’re at $3000 for the gentleman in the first row. Anyone for $3500?” The said man looked positively smug, sitting with his legs spread lewdly. Most likely sure that no one would contest that price.

Definitely not you.

“$4000.” Your voice yelling above everyone else is even foreign to your own ears. An outer body experience as you watch yourself look the auctioneer straight in his eyes, daring anyone in the room to go higher up on the price. But most of all, you watch the silver haired hybrid’s gaze waver for the first time - looking at you in such surprise like it was the first time he was noticing you.

“Ah... Anyone for $4500?” Only one other hand goes up. The man that had been the prospective buyer before. His face is ballooning with the amount of blood that’s rushing to it.

“Y/n? What are you doin?!” Hara’s frantic whispering flies over your head as you call out once more.

“$6000. Final offer.” You look at the other men in the seats beneath you, challenging them to dispute your offer.

The atmosphere is tense, thick with the tension brewing inside the auditorium and yet you don’t shy away from the angry glares being shot your way. A minute passes. No more offers.

“Sold to Miss?”

“Y/n.”

“-Miss Y/n. Thank you all for participating.” The loud chatter is instantaneous as the auctioneer motions the other lab rat to, assumably, gather the hybrids and their things.

“Y/N! Oh my god.” Hara has all but engulfed you in a tight hug once more. Shaking you slightly out of your own shock. This was not what you had planned but it was done.

She finally pulls back, checking you over like you were ill. “A-Are you sure about this? Oh god, okay we need to head up to the podium.”

Just like she doesn’t wait for your answer, you had not waited for your own either. You hadn’t even asked yourself the question before you had so blindly bid on the two hybrids. You’d been waiting for someone to save them. Someone to come barging in and take them away from these cruel people. Never in a millenia had you thought that someone might be you.

“Here you are Miss. You can deposit a check right now or eftpos the payment. Up to you.”

Benumbed, you take out your phone to open the phone banking application. When you’ve made sure there are sufficient funds transferred from your savings account, you wave your card in front of the auctioneer wordlessly. From the corner of your eyes, you can feel the two hybrids watching you. You wished they had at least let them wait in some sort of waiting room and not witness the jarring experience of several people bidding over them.

“Excellent! The transaction has been approved and a receipt will be emailed to you if you can fill out this form here.” Glancing at the hybrids standing a few feet away from you, clutching a duffle bag each, you try and put down your details as fast as you can.

They had already looked like they wanted to be as farther away from this place as possible and the feeling was mutual. Hara was beside you the whole time, waiting for any cue from you to provide some sort of support or whatever you needed her to do. And if your tongue worked - you would thank her as you filled out the space on the form asking you of your email address. It was sickening how easy it was for you to just... buy them! Would they not do a security or police check on you? Make sure that these hybrids are going to at least a safe home?

You were aware of the long process of hybrids that were ordered from the company. The company had a thorough process of making sure their clients were reputable and trust-worthy. That they wouldn’t do bodily harm to the hybrids but that was a facade so these companies wouldn’t have to spend money in compensation if a client had abused their hybrid in any way and had not been satisfied with what they had ordered. It was a guise. These people didn’t give two shits if the hybrids were not of expectation and couldn’t make them money.

“Am I done here?” Your tone was curt and the auctioneer could sense it.

The fact that you’d fished out more than enough cash for some ‘failed’ hybrids - he was interested in you as a potential future client. You were aware that hybrids of their breed went for $5000 - maximum. The previous greasy bald man had been close to closing a deal for $3000 until you had butted in. So obviously, they were going to kiss your ass.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s all we needed. The hybrids are good to go. Their bags have their guidebooks with them. Thank you for shopping with us.” his bright smile makes you want to hit him with your designer bag.

But even this leather was too good to be wasted on these assholes. “Y/N? Please look a little more friendly. You’ll scare the bunny away.” Hara is speed walking besides you, trying to convince you to soften your stance when you stop right before the bench they had been sitting on.

“Follow me, boys.” You’re not rude. You don’t sound mean either. But you don’t particularly sound like you wanted them. And as much as that was the truth to some degree, you didn’t not want them.

The silver haired hybrid hesitates - watching you with wide, curious eyes. Not the harsh way his eyes had scanned the room before but not exactly friendly and enthusiastic like the bunny. The bunny that was currently tugging on the silver fox’s sleeve wordlessly. His doe eyes silently ask his friend to follow you. But when his feet stay rooted to the same spot, you can’t help but sigh.

“Is there a problem?” A moment’s silence. Then finally the silver haired boy shakes his head, grasping the bunny’s hand and follows you out of the building.

Hara is gripping your hand, relieved tears in her eyes and you can’t keep looking. Because you couldn’t promise her that you would take good care of them. “Thank you Y/n. You didn’t have to do that but... but you did. You’re a good person and these boys are lucky to have you.”

Her eyes are earnest. You know she means every word and she can sense your inner turmoil at your own ability to take care of them. The boys can’t hear you both talking since they are standing near your car, obediently waiting for you. Taking a look at them huddled in the back seat, you turn back to Hara.

“Thanks Har. I will try my best. They deserve a shot at a normal and secure life. I won’t let you down.”

“And you,” she cups your face, making you look back at her. “You deserve love too. I have seen the bunny hybrid in the lab. He will heal all your wounds too. Please be happy and patient with them, okay?”

You nod, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but genuine nonetheless. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

You just wave her goodbye, standing until her car pulls away. Looking back at the two boys waiting patiently in the car - you take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck... fuck. Fuck!” You don’t scream out loud. not really. But anyone walking by would be able to see you were stalling something. That something is going to your car and then going home.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to bite the bullet and face the reality. Getting in the driver’s seat, you look back at the two hybrids watching you from your rearview mirror. Giving them a small smile, you notice the bunny hybrid’s shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s go home.” Your voice is light and airy. Hoping to put them at ease. They were yours now.

You were their saviour.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Home sweet home.” Letting them pass you, entering the condo, you let them take in their surroundings.

The bunny is still latched on to the taller hybrid’s flannel, hiding behind him when the fox hybrid comes to stand beside a couch. Both of them look at you - as if waiting for you to allow them to sit. The silver haired fox is holding on to the bunny’s hand, watching you with a dour look.

“Go on.” You head motions towards the comfortable three seater couch. “Have a seat. No need to be shy.”

Of course, you want to palm yourself after your remark. Of course they were shy. Well, the bunny mostly. The fox looked to be very suspicious and not exactly friendly. Though you could understand his apprehension. He was about to be sold to some very nefarious people. He seemed to be a bit older than the bunny and had a look of ambiance that only came with experiencing harsh times. Your heart felt for him.

The bunny doesn’t wait too long, sitting on the couch - well plopping is more like it - whereas the fox takes his time, battling with himself if he should or not. When you keep watching him, waiting for him to sit, he thankfully gives in and sits besides his friend.

Once you can tell that they are comfortable - as comfortable as they can be, you ask your first question. “So, what are your names?”

You smile at them gently, letting them know you are their friend. At least hoping that they can conclude that from the fact that you told them about their new home on the car ride over.

The bunny’s eyes are wide, face heating up as if you asked him a rather scandalous question and not just his name. Your heart skips a beat when the lovely blush blossoms across his face that’s hiding in the fox’s shoulder.

“Well? Can you tell me, bun? What’s your name?” Your question being directed to the bunny only makes the blush more visible. You could see his face reddening further in embarrassment and the colour being rather more visible on his neck too.

The smile doesn’t diminish from your face. Not even after seeing the way the fox is almost glaring at you but you were positive that the bunny wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of you.

“J-Jungkook. ‘m J-Jungk-kook” The answer proves to be too much for him to mumble, lips catching his plumper bottom lip as he peeks at you through one eye that isn’t hidden in the fox’s shoulder.

“Jungkook. That’s a lovely name, bun.” Your smile widens when you see the corners of his mouth stirring up a little at your compliment.

Your heart was so full. Never did you think you would feel these dizzying emotions at a pretty boy merely muttering his name. His name. If this was your reaction at finding out one of their names, you were not going to survive getting to know them before you went full mother-hen mode on anyone that tried to harm them.

“What about you, hm?” Your smile is a lingering effect of just looking at Jungkook’s adorable blushing face and you don’t let it falter even if the fox hybrid is visibly more aloof.

‘Be patient with them y/n.’ You remind yourself of Hara’s words over and over.

“Namjoon.” The smile halts briefly at the deep timbre of his tone. You had not been expecting him to sound like molten chocolate and sweeter than honey. You realise you wanted to hear him more. Hear him speak about mundane topics over and over because that’s how good he sounded to you.

“Namjoon.” the name rolls off your tongue smoothly, just like his voice. You’re still watching his face, waiting for any sort of reaction even if it’s not as endearing as Jungkook’s. Just something. But his face remains passive. A slight twitch of his lips but that’s it. The pessimistic part of your brain convinces you that it could have been a frown and not a smile that he’s fought away.

But you needed to remain positive.

“T-That’s… a very nice name too.” He doesn’t look convinced at your reply though. Namjoon continues to watch you and now you’re the one blushing from the heat of his stare.

Jungkook is watching Namjoon just as cautiously as you. Like he expected him to be like that. Austere and unwilling to be forthcoming with information about himself. Telling yourself that he’ll adjust with time, you opt for a smile that’s sent Jungkook’s way - making the bunny hide behind Namjoon again. Almost like when a child is cautious and shys away from a stranger they meet. That’s what it was.  A childlike innocence to Jungkook which awoke every instinct in you to protect him. Maybe that’s why his eyes had convinced you that you needed to take them home with you.

“Okay boys. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Furrowing your brows at the way Jungkook clutches Namjoon harder with panicked eyes, you turn around to look at them again.

“You don’t need to stay in separate rooms if you don’t want to, okay?” Namjoon regards you with a look before nodding - eyes cast down once again.

“Good. You both are very quiet but that’s okay - I can talk enough for the three of us.” The wink that you send Jungkook’s way only has him sputtering with embarrassment as the lovely rose tints his full round cheeks.

“But you do have to tell me when you are not okay with something, alright? I can’t read your pretty little heads.” As you say the last few words, your hand reaches out to shuffle the bunny’s peach hair.

What you don’t expect, is him flinching away so violently that even you are startled, taking a step back. Jungkook is hiding behind Namjoon completely now, shaking and you want to reach out. Say sorry and take it all back.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, kook, it’s alright. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice reverberates through the quiet hallway, soothing the bunny’s shaking frame, whispering gentle assurances and you’re about to choke up.

What happened to him? Who did this to him. For him to be this scared. Watching Namjoon hug the shaking bunny tightly, sniffling away in his chest, only makes you feel more guilty at your brash treatment. Were you coming on too strong? God you were so out of your depth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Jungkook. Honey..” You’re trying your best to reach out to him but the way Namjoon stands between you and him like a wall - it’s obvious he was waiting for something like this to happen. He was cautious of you and now his beliefs have been reinforced to not trust you or whatever nonsense he’s thinking.

You couldn’t blame him though. You really couldn’t.

“Please be careful, miss. He’s not a toy.” Namjoon’s voice trembles. Just the way - you now notice - his bottom lip does. He’s holding back tears and you really don’t know what to do. Except try your best to take their pain away.

“I’m.. I’m really sorry Namjoon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” You open the door to the room quickly, making sure there are blankets and pillows on the bed before coming out to tell them.

“Take him inside Namjoon. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone, for now. Let me know if you need anything?” Namjoon merely nods, not being able to look you in the eyes but the bite of his lip tells you he’s trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s hiccups catch your attention and you pull yourself out of your self-pity session. Only wanting to make sure that both of the hybrids are comfortable and just not feeling the way they are right now. Gesturing your head forward again, you nod at Namjoon when he looks at you one last time before heading into the room. The bunny holds onto Namjoon tightly, letting him walk into the room and when they are fully in - you close the door behind them. Giving them their privacy and also because you had a feeling they needed to be by themselves to really understand their current situation. That you were their new owner and this was their home.

A permanent home.

[livsoulsecrets]

Deanoru Fic: It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Summary: The one where the Runaways have to fight an unexpected criminal attack in L.A. during their night out and Nico ends up taking big risks to protect Karolina, which prompts her to ask Karolina the most important question of their lives.

§ - §

 What was supposed to be a quiet Sunday night for the Runaways quickly turned into a mess in a matter of seconds.

 Thinking in retrospect, Nico assumed she should have known they were bound to stumble upon a disaster every time they stepped outside.

 Still, it had been the first time in a while they had managed to get the whole group together at the same place. With Alex off to MIT, Gert and Chase finishing off college and Molly about to graduate high school all while Nico and Kare adapted to moving in together last year, they had been too busy for a reunion. At the same time, Nico was pursuing her own career in journalism (which had been quite a surprise to her, once she realized writing about the things that angered her was a better coping mechanism than trying to solve everything with spells) and Karolina started working towards her Sociology Masters (which did not come as surprise at all, because this girl was amazing and capable of anything).

 Because of the crazy times they had been going through, Nico had planned to have a peaceful night out with her friends at the amusement park downtown, followed by a sleepover at their old hideout, the Hostel, to blow off some steam. Of course, that didn’t go as planned thanks to some lunatic that had decided to attack LA and kidnap a bunch of kids in the middle of their night off. 

 Now, Nico was following the crazy man’s track to some abandoned warehouse (because he was a cliche like that, apparently), alongside Karolina, Molly and Chase. They had left Gert and Alex at the park, to make sure the civilians got home safe and nobody was hurt. When they finally reached the place Nico’s localization spell had pointed out, she stopped her friends in their tracks.

— Look, we don’t know much about this dude, other than the fact he’s insane enough to kidnap a bunch of kids without thinking twice. What we do know is that he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, so he may be a professional. — Nico explained, keeping her voice low while the four of them hid behind a bus stop. The sight was quite ridiculous, but the dark street provided a very welcome hideout.

— So, you think he is part of a gang or something? — Molly asked, appearing to be excited at the prospect of kicking some gangster’s ass, which did not appeal to Chase at all, considering his furrowed brow in Molly’s direction.

— He could be. Anyway, he had a whole crew and lots of guns. Be careful and don’t do anything dumb. And, yes, I’m talking to you, Chase, in case there is any doubt. — Nico reinforced, receiving a scowl from him.

— Oh, there wasn’t, baby. — Kare commented, earning a small smile from her girlfriend, despite the tense situation they were in. Chase just threw his arms up in frustration as a response.

— Just remember our main goal is to get the children back to their families before anything bad happens. Let’s go inside by the backdoor and, please, don’t forget to- 

— Stick together. — Molly interrupted. — We know it, Nico. You give away too many speeches for somebody that hates motivational stuff. — With that, she turns and leads the way to the back exit.

— Ow, I was just disrespected by a fetus. — Nico sighed, but still followed said fetus’ steps.

— Now you know how I feel. — Chase replied, shaking his shoulders.

 Their banter died down as Molly forced the door open and the four of them walked inside in complete silence. The place was pitch dark, so Karolina instinctively lightened up her hand, leading the way through an infinite amount of hallways that seemed to lead nowhere.

— Wait, I’m hearing something. — Kare whispers just when Nico was starting to lose hope of finding any clues in that place. Kare very quickly diminishes her light. — I think someone is coming, get ready. 

 Some moments after her warning, Nico manages to catch sight of a dim lantern light in the end of the hallway. Shortly after that, six men appeared, guns in hand. 

 Despite their muscles and armament, they had no time to react as energy blasts from Chase’s Fistgons hit the first two men right in their chests. Without missing a beat, Karolina flew over the fallen thugs to bring the next two to the ground as Nico attacked one of the remaining men with a restraining spell. Molly hit the last one of the men hard against the wall, leaving him momentarily unconscious. 

— Tell us where the kids are. Now. — Nico demanded the man she was holding against the wall. 

— Fuck you, bitch-

 A burst of light hit a spot near the guy’s head, leaving a massive hole in the wall. Molly let out a surprised squeal, but Nico didn’t even flinch, knowing exactly where it came from.

— You will tell her what we want to know or the next one is going right into your head. — Karolina bluffed, rainbow couloured beams of light coming out of her hand.

 Anyone who knew her could see right through her act, as Nico did, but, right there, in a dark creepy hallway with her exhilarating power consuming the whole place, it was no surprise the man was terrified of her.

 With blonde hair falling into her face, an anger-filled look on her dreamy blue eyes and incredible power radiating from every part of her body, Nico thought she looked like an avenging angel.

 Nico also thought several other things right after that, but she had to push those ideas away in favor of focusing on their mission.

— East side of the building. They are keeping the kids in the basement over there. You have to turn right in the next hallway and keep walking straight down. — The guy grunted out, visibly shaken up.

— How many people are guarding them? — Chase questioned, stiffening up.

— About twelve, but I guess you will have no problem with that. — He growled.

— Why did you take the kids? Is it to make a statement to a rival gang? — Molly seriously questioned, talking for the first time in a while, which earned a raising eyebrow from Chase. — What? I study gangs quite a lot, you never know when you will have to fight one.

— You terrify me sometimes, kid. — Chase said, deeply disturbed.

— She’s not wrong. — Their hostage said, once the hold Nico had on him tightened up. — I don’t know much, I was just paid to guard the place. All I know is the boss has some crazy guns and is trying to show off his firepower, the kids are just to attract attention. 

— As usual, kids are the ones getting caught up in the middle of adults’ bullshit. — Nico murmured, anger burning inside of her. — That’s all we need to know, let’s go. — Nico dropped the thug to the ground and whispered a spell to make him fall asleep.

— Alright, guys, let’s find them. — Karolina pleaded, holding out her hand for Nico to grab. Without thinking twice, Nico took it and guided her girlfriend and friends to the basement. They successfully avoided being seen by any other guards, managing to reach the place rather quickly, now they knew what to look for.

 Once they got to the spot where they were hiding the kids, Nico caught sight of plenty of guards gathered in front of the door. Nico signaled for the group to stop and listen attentively. They all waited together, trying to listen to the conversation being held near them.

— Is the gun ready? — One of the men questioned.

— The Boss says so. He brags it can take out any of those super powered freaks out there, anything that isn’t human. — Answered another.

— Do you believe it?

— I don’t need to believe it. Every other gang in town is going to be terrified. We are in for some good money. 

 Nico reached for Karolina without thinking twice, fear washing over her at the thought of some despicable guy harming Kare. The next thing in her mind was Molly, fearing the weapon could hurt her too due to her powers. Chase’s panic was also written all over his face when she looked up to him.

— So, what do we do? — Molly whispers, voice trembling. 

— We save the kids and get out of here. That’s the plan. — Nico answers, fearing Molly and Karolina would cross ways with a potential threat.

— We can’t let this guy keep the weapon. It could hurt people. People like me. Like Molly. — Karolina disagrees, nervously.

— This is exactly why we need to leave. We can’t put you and Molly in danger. — Chase pondered.

— Also, we don’t even know if this gun is real, the dude might just be making it up. — Nico argued back, trying not to raise her voice.

— We can’t take risks with this, Nico. — Karolina insists. There is a moment of silence where Karolina just holds Nico’s eyes on hers, letting her know she is not letting this go.

 Well, Nico realizes she isn’t either. 

— I don’t want to get in the middle of this staring contest you guys are having, but I think the guard is walking toward us, so maybe we can argue later and fight now? — Chase suggests, speaking fast as he prepared his Fistgons to shoot lasers at the upcoming target.

— Say no more. — Molly complies, eyes glowing in the dark.

 After that mutual agreement, everything becomes a blur of punches, light and loud noises as the four of them fight through the wave of thugs. 

 Once they finally reach the door, Chase blows the lock up, sweat covering his face and his breathing heavy. 

— Man, I don’t see you in this bad of a shape ever since you lost the Junior league championship. — Nico commented, earning an offended scowl from him.

— That’s low, Minoru, you know that’s the thing I’m sensitive about. 

 As Chase catches his breath, Molly screams a warning before kicking the door down. It’s all a bit dramatic and not that necessary, but Nico lets her have it. It has been a long night, after all.

 They find about fifteen very terrified kids grouped together in the dark, loud sounds of crying and screaming reverberating through the room.

— Hey, it’s okay. — Karolina softly announces, lighting up the place. — We’re here to help. — The kids amusedly stare at Kare as she shines, momentarily forgetting their current situation.

— Yes, we will get you out. Just make a line and I’ll make sure you get back to your families. — Nico asks, turning to prepare for her next speel. With a deep breath, she pictures the amusement park with clarity in her mind as she tightens her hold on the Staff. — Open the portal. — She murmurs, focusing on keeping it safe for the kids. — It’s stable now, but it’s not safe for them to cross alone. Molly, you and Chase go with them.

 The girl opened her mouth to protest at the same time Chase let out a breath of relief.

— Please, Mols. Those kids need protection, we have no idea if there’s something waiting for them at the park. They will need to be kept safe until finding their families. I’m trusting you with this. — Nico pleaded, hoping she would listen to her. Molly still looked unhappy about it, but nodded and accepted the request. 

— Hey, y’all, just stay together and follow me. — Molly said, walking through the portal right after. Chase spoke softly to the kids as they crossed it as well, only stopping when the last one was gone, following them as well. Despite that, Nico kept the portal open, fortifying it.

— Kare… You should go with them. — Despite her request, Karolina sighed, unbothered.

— I’m not going anywhere. 

— This guy is dangerous, okay? His weapon especially targets super powered people, you heard it.

— That is why I can’t let you go alone. If he can really hurt superheroes, I’m sure he can hurt witches with staffes too! — She argued back, hands crossed in front of her body.

— The Staff doesn’t count! Your power is engraved into your blood, Kare. It is too dangerous for you to stay. Also, I can handle him, believe me.

— I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but if you get hurt, we will be lost without you... I will be lost, Nico. — Karolina’s voice is shaking, which breaks Nico’s heart even more. 

— I won’t let that happen. But, even if it does, the team needs you to go and keep everyone else safe. You need to make sure these kids get back to their families and meet me back at the Hostel. I added an additional protection to the portal. It doesn’t let those who cross it come back here, keeping everyone safe. Please, just go. — Nico insisted, holding onto Karolina’s arms, trying to get her to listen. They are standing right in front of the portal right now, its purple energy beaming so strongly Nico needs to put a lot of effort into properly seeing Karolina’s face.

— Nico, no! I’m not leaving you behind, especially with no way of getting back to you. — Karolina firmly denied, sounding terrified with the idea.

— Karie, that’s not leaving me, that’s following a plan. Trust me, I would never not come back to you. 

— I do trust you. I just can’t-

 Nico stops her mid-sentence, hands gripping around her shoulders as she presses their lips together, hard and sharp. It’s not like their usual kisses, it’s not soft or slow or loving, it’s desperate and rough, just Nico sealing them together one more time before she does what has to be done.

— I love you, Karolina. Don’t forget that.

— I love-

— Also, I’m sorry. — Nico whispers, before using her tight grip on Karie’s shoulders to push her through the portal. 

— Nico! No, don’t you dare! I swear-

 Karolina’s furious scream is cut out by the portal closing.

— Please, don’t go too hard on me for this, Karie. — Nico begged the empty space her girlfriend was in until a moment ago, before turning on her heels to face her target.

§ - § 

 When Nico makes her way back to the Hostel almost an hour later, Molly is the first person to throw herself at her. Soon enough, she’s being passed around, from Alex to Gert to Chase and, finally, to receive a friendly tap from Old Lace’s tail.

 Karolina is the last one in her arms, holding her so tight Nico loses sense of everything around them for a moment. 

— Are you okay? Are you hurt, what happened? — Karolina fired the questions quickly, hands scanning her body, looking for any injuries.

— I’m fine, really. Not hurt, just really tired. — Nico assures her, trying to sound light.

— Did you catch the guy? — Chase asked next, curious.

— Yes, I did. He had a weapon that was quite powerful, but it wasn’t capable of all the things that he was told about. Someone tricked him, apparently. It could cause a lot of damage, but not to the point of harming superpowered people. I mean, at least that’s what I understood from the cops’ talks after they took him away. — Nico explained, hand rushing through her hair, trying to keep it off her face. 

— So I left for nothing? Damn it, I could have kicked his ass. — Molly complained, disappointed.

— It wasn’t for nothing! Nico made the right call. If this guy had the gun he claimed to, you could be dead right now just for crossing his way. — Gert refuted, arms around her sister in a tight embrace. Nico nodded softly to her as a way of thanking the support and Gert smiled back.

— Better to be safe than sorry. — Alex added, to Molly’s further disappointment.

— Whatever, I guess. — She muttered, arms crossed.

— Still, it took all of my energy to get him and his thugs to step down. I’m really drained. — Nico explained, breathing still irregular even now.

 As their friends discussed the night’s unexpected turn of events and planned a brunch for the next day to make up for tonight’s disaster, Karolina took the chance to lock Nico in another hug, still not saying much, appearing to be just taking in her presence.

— We will… Huh, leave you to it? — Chase suggests, his voice nothing but background noise to Nico as she buries her head in Kare’s shoulder, relief washing over her. In a moment, all her friends have dispersed through the Hostel and Karolina is taking a step away from her, cleaning her throat.

— Kare, I-

— Let’s not do this here. — Kare asks, indicating the stairs with her head. 

— Okay. Sure. — Nico complies, not sure of what to do, but still quietly following Karolina as she took them to their old bedroom. 

 Once they get there, Karolina closes the door and walks to the center of the room, nervously standing there. Karolina seems to gather herself for what she’s about to say. When she talks again, her tone is so sharp Nico feels as if her heart is being split in half.

— You’re unbelievable, Nico. What you did- I don’t even know what the hell to tell you. I was so scared for you, even more than I was mad. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you!

 Nico knows Karolina needs to get her anger out, knows she has every right to be pissed at her, but she’s too tired, too broken to do anything other than let her body take over.

 Her feet move before she even takes notice of them, arms enlacing Karolina’s waist, head fitting right under her chin.

 She listens to Karolina’s heartbeat, furiously beating because of what she did.

 Somehow, Nico is just really glad it’s even beating at all. Nico knows she put herself in danger more than anyone else in the team today, but she finds herself realizing the thing that terrified her the most was Karolina getting hurt. She didn’t think twice, didn’t hesitate, before throwing herself in the unknown, if that meant getting Karie to a safe place.

 Nico would rather do it a thousand times again if that meant Karolina would be waiting for her on the other side of it. Even if they fought, argued and screamed. 

 Karolina was all there was, as usual.

— I love you, Karolina Dean. — Nico whispers.

 Karie sighed, hands coming to tangle among the heavy locks of Nico’s hair. 

— I love you too. — Kare says it back. — I’m still mad though.

— I know. I’m sorry-

 Nico stops, breathes one time. Then, another. She runs what she’s about to say through her mind again and again. 

 Karolina waits for her, as she always does, even through Nico’s worst moments.

— I’m sorry I pushed you away. — Nico apologizes, taking enough distance for Karolina just to take a better look at her face. — I’m sorry I made you feel so worried for me, but I’m not sorry for what I did.

 Karolina is clearly confused, but still pays attention to Nico. Now, she is looking down to face her as well, which would annoy Nico if it came from anyone else, since she hates feeling so small, but it’s always quite endearing when Karie does it. The difference is that Karolina does it to make sure she never misses a single movement Nico makes, she stares at her as if Nico is something precious… Something marvelous. When Kare bows down to touch her face, when she pulls Nico towards her, it’s never patronizing… Quite the opposite actually: Every time Karolina touches Nico, she feels unchained.

 That is the one thing that prompts Nico to be truly honest about the reasoning behind her actions tonight.

— I'm not sorry for doing something stupid to keep you safe. I’m not sorry for putting you first. I’m only sorry for not letting you in. I just need you to understand that I will never stop trying to get you home safe. No matter what it takes. I promise to include you in that, though. It was shitty of me to just push you through the portal. I panicked and didn’t take the time to talk with you or respect your choice, and that’s all on me. I shouldn’t have been so reckless and stupid. — Nico was out of breath when she finished talking and Karolina was still surprisingly quiet. — Kare? Do you need some time to think? I can leave, I know you sometimes like being alone after stuff like this.

 Nico moves to leave, but Kare’s hand clasps around her wrist. She feels more than sees her body being snatched against the other woman. Karolina kisses her the way Nico has been dying to be kissed throughout this whole nightmare of a night. 

 This time, there’s no threats, fears or risks. This time, it’s just the two of them.

 When Karolina clutches Nico’s jacket and throws it across their room, she knows that means Kare was craving the same comfort from her. In a matter of seconds, Nico has gripped onto Karolina’s shirt and pulled it over her girlfriend’s head. 

 Kare knows Nico’s body as much as her own at this point, so it doesn’t take much time for her to get Nico’s shirt off and clash the two of them against their bed. Karolina’s hair is falling in a cascade, tingling Nico’s neck, but she is too busy kissing every inch of skin Kare has exposed to care. 

 Karolina is over her, but she’s also everywhere around Nico, light consuming their surroundings. Nico could watch her for the rest of her life without ever getting tired. More than that, she wants to spend forever getting to see Karolina like this, no walls up, just hopelessly opening up to Nico.

 It never fails to amaze Nico that she’s the one doing this to Karolina. That it is all her, darkness and brokenness and all, making Kare lose all control, disclosing herself in the most breathtaking way possible.

 Karolina desperately reaches for her, as if she will die if Nico isn’t closer. There’s nothing else in Nico’s mind once Kare touches her like that. 

 All there is in the world is Kare’s warmth washing over her, erasing every bit of pain and despair this night had caused.

§ - § 

 It’s pitch dark when Nico talks again, her head laying in Karolina’s chest, the two of them laying together in bed, Kare’s arms around her.

— I’m not one to repeat myself, but I really felt awful for shutting you out like that.

— I know.. I could tell it as soon as you did it. 

— I’m predictable, after all.

— Only to me. — Karolina scoffs, making Nico laugh. 

— I still feel like an idiot, though. — Nico confesses, causing Karolina to answer in a rather frenetic manner.

— You are not an idiot- Damn it, Nico. You’re everything, don’t you see? — Her voice is nothing but a whisper, but Nico still listens to it perfectly, years of secretive talkings like those preparing her to understand Karolina in any situation possible. — I can’t function without you, I can’t think, I can’t live if you’re not there. The worst part is that I’m so mad at you for doing something this crazy to protect me, but I would have done the same. I did before. Hell, I will probably do it again. 

— I get it, Kare, trust me, I do.

— I'm not sure you do, babe. — Karolina disagrees, fingers coming to trace the curve of Nico’s neck. — I was raised to obey, to comply. I was taught that to love someone meant to be loyal beyond reason. With you, though, it is the opposite of that. I don’t follow your lead because I’m forced to do it. I do so because I trust you. I put myself in risk every time you’re in danger because I can’t imagine not having you there, even though I know you would never ask that from me. I think I love you even more because I know you wouldn’t.

 Nico is not one to be left speechless, yet every single time Karolina tells her things like that, as if they’re a matter of fact, as if Nico is even deserving of that type of love, she takes a moment to convince herself this is real: that Nico is the one she loves, the only one she wants.

 So, she figures she might as well try to make Karie feel that same way.

— Marry me, Karolina. — Nico tells her, eyes locking into hers as Kare’s breath catches, shock written all over her face. — Marry me and stay with me. Fight me and love me and never leave. You’re my light, Karie. You’re my heart. I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. So… Will you marry me?

 As Karolina takes in the unexpected words, Nico’s heart desperately beats, terrified of what is about to come.

— Do you know that, when I fly, I can’t always see what’s ahead of me? — Karolina questions, confusing Nico, that doesn’t understand where she is going with this. Still, she’s smiling adorably, which warms Nico’s heart despite how nervous she feels.— The clouds blur my vision and I need to trust my instincts to make sure I’m not going to hit anything. I was terrified of getting hurt or falling at the beginning, but, over time, I realized that flying was part of me, that my body knew exactly what to do, even if my mind couldn’t quite understand it. My body can take over every sharp turn, every last minute deviant, before any thought crosses my mind. It's my nature.

 She stops and the look she gives Nico is so full of love that she can’t find it in herself to panic over the fact she just proposed to Karolina out of the blue. Nico listens attentively as she continues, heart pondering in her chest with every word out of Kare’s mouth.

— That’s how I feel about you. You’re my nature. I have always known you, every part of my body did, even when my mind hadn’t caught up just yet. I always knew you, Nico, more than that, I always loved you, for all the things that terrified you and amazed me. So, yes, I will marry you. I will stay with you and I will never leave because being apart from you is denying my own nature and I won’t ever do this to myself again.

 Kare is crying now and Nico notices she is too. Karolina’s hands are shaking when she holds onto Nico's face. She kisses her, her lips, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. Somehow, through the tears, Nico is also laughing, never getting tired of the soft feeling of Kare’s lips on her. 

— You’re all I have ever wanted my whole life. Sometimes I still can’t believe I have you. — Kare utters, one last kiss being laid at Nico’s forehead.

— You do. Kare, you always had me. — Nico moves fast to lay a leg on each side of Kare’s body. She holds Karolina’s delicate face in her hands, the look of awe in her eyes almost burning through her heart. — It’s just official now.

 — You really are everything, Nico. You really are. — That’s the last thing Karolina says before leaning forward to capture her lips again. 

 Just like that, Kare manages to surround Nico with her presence once more. 

 There she is again: Nico’s light in the dark, now and for the rest of their lives.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

A Lapse in Judgement - Part 4

CHAPTER ONE: A Dangrous Present CHAPTER TWO: A Past Forgotten CHAPTER THREE: A Foreshadowing CHAPTER FOUR: One Possible Conclusion CHAPTER FIVE: Untethered

Komaeda Nagito x Ultimate Empath!Reader

Summary: Deep down you always knew that it would end this way. Contains: she/her pronouns, emotional torture, canon major character death, suicide ment Read on AO3

You should have seen it coming. Komaeda was weirdly distant after you escaped the funhouse, alone in his room and not answering even when you pleaded for him to open the door. You should have seen the signs, you should have kicked the door down. There were so many things you should have done, but did not.  It made sense that someone would finally take the initiative and get rid of him after the bomb threat, you might even have forgiven them if it had been a gun to the head or a knife to the heart. 

You cup his face in your hands, staring hopelessly into a set of eyes with nothing behind them. Praying that if you look for long enough you will feel something, anything to prove that he is still in there somewhere. Your throat is dry and raw from a constant string of screams and sobs that you can't even hear. 

“Hey, c’mon. You have to get up.” Hinata says, reaching out and resting a hand on your shoulder.

You whirl around and the pity living behind the eyes of six different people slams into you. It only makes you angrier, “I am not leaving him.” you suck a breath in through your teeth, hot tears pouring down your face, “One of you did this .” you gesture to the empty vessel that had once held the soul of the man you loved, “Someone tortured him. You know perfectly well that he wouldn’t have resisted if someone tried to kill him. They didn't have to do this, they could have just stabbed him and been done with it, but no . The mother fucker tortured him.” you turn back to the body and brush some of the bloody hair away from his forehead, “You can do your worthless little investigation around me, but I am not moving.”

Your hear Hinata sigh behind you and suggest that everyone start investigating elsewhere for now. Sonia mutters some words of apology in your direction, but you ignore her and listen as only five sets of shoes leave the warehouse. Your fingers cart shakily through Komaeda’s hair and you ask, “Why are you still here?” 

Kuzuryu rounds the body and drops into a crouch on the other side. He doesn't say anything, he just stares at you. Behind his eyes you can feel more than just pity, it’s deeper, more complex. Empathy, guilt, understanding . 

“You know what i'm trying to say right?” He huffs, “I don't really understand how your weird-ass talent works, but you felt that. Didn’t you?”

“Oh.” You whisper, heart tensing with a sudden realisation, “Pekoyama.”

He turns away from you, a silent indication that these emotions were for him and him alone, “Yeah.” he says. 

You sniffle, trying to stop yourself from crying again while gently stroking Komaeda’s cheekbone with your thumb, “He was scared of dying alone.”

Kuzuryu doesn't say anything, but he also makes no move to leave.

“I know i probably couldn't have stopped it but, i wish i could have been there. I wish he could have seen me. I just hate…” your breathing is raggard, it’s hard to speak, “I know he did some fucked up shit, i know! But I loved him, I did and I don't even really know why. It’s just, it's...just-” your hands are looping around on eachother, circular, as you try to explain feelings that don't make sense, “-it’s like we’ve been here before. Like I love him because I already loved him, and will love him again and again and again ad infinitum.” You’re sobbing now, Kuzurya reaches across Komaeda’s corpse and rests a hand on your shoulder. A noise more like a shriek than a sob rips through you and your hands tangle in your hair, “I feel like i'm going crazy…” you whisper.  

“It’s grief.” He replies, “One day, we’ll both get over it.”

*

The trial is arduous. You were not around for much of the investigation, but that didn't matter to Monokuma, he dragged you kicking and screaming into the elevator and over to your podium. Everyone keeps looking at you, at the way your hair is frazzled from your grasping fingers and the barely dried tear tracks running down your cheeks. You can tell that Souda especially is just waiting for you to snap, like Komaeda once did. 

Your fingers are gripped white around the front of your podium, eyes locked only on the photograph across the room. Your mouth curls at the irony, that even he is staring at you. Judging you . 

Hinata is leading the discussion as usual, but there is a moment of silence every now and again. Like he is waiting for input from someone who cannot speak. A bottomless void, a lapse in more than just conversation. Hinata clenches his fist tight. 

You aren’t paying much attention, your talent has been acting up. You’ve been feeling things that aren’t even there, from a past life? From someone else’s? Nervous shaky hands cupping your cheeks, one hand and one glove slowly lifting the hem of your shirt. Lips that taste like summer and lips that taste like desperation. You can’t remember anything tangible, but god can you feel . Two sets of hands, two pairs of lips. Completely differently but irrecoverably similar. You feel like throwing up. 

“What do you think?” Hinata asks and you are ripped back to the present.

“Huh?” 

His brow is pulled tight, but his eyes are apologising to you and begging you to stay calm, “Would Komaeda commit suicide?” 

“I….WHAT? No!” You can’t believe it, you can’t believe the shit Hinata is trying to pull, “did you see the body? You think he did that to himself?!” 

Nanami turns to you. Giving you a gentle smile, “It’s okay.” She says, “we’re just working through it, but we need your help.” you’re shaking with a barely contained mania, teeth grinding and tears building in your eyes. Nanami just keeps smiling, and she means it. You can feel her fear, but even more than that, you can feel how deeply she cares for you. For all of you, “You knew him the best, didn’t you? Do you think he would do it?”

You feel calmer. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, “Not without a reason. He would never kill himself just for the sake of dying, he’s smart. He was trying to accomplish something.”

Nanami nods and rests a hand over her heart, “thank you. Considering what we found in his cabin, along with your testimony, I think it was more than just a suicide.”

What they found in the cabin was poison. Taken from the final dead room. You are dimly aware that it was probably in his pocket while he was fucking you, you turn your eyes to the ground. 

“We also found...one other thing.” Hinata mutters, he pulls an envelope out from his pocket and passes it over to you. Everyone is leaning in, trying to get a glimpse at what it is, “It was on the bookshelf, it’s addressed to you.”

Your hands are shaking as you grip the paper. You reach out and trace the lines of your name written in his messy handwriting. The envelope is still sealed.The trial continues. 

The reveal of the poison reveals a motive. Komaeda was trying to take the traitor down with him, the poison hidden in plain sight and his luck rolled the dice. Hinata runs through everything, piece by piece but there is no way to know who did it. No way to know who the traitor is. Unless of course, they come forward.

Nanami’s smile is heartbreaking. Hinata’s jaw is clenched tight when he realises the truth, whispering her name so gently so sweetly, like he is begging her to tell him that it’s all just a lie.  

You have a feeling though, twisting and turning in your stomach as Nanami begs for your votes. You try and ignore it to just vote for the traitor that Komaeda had wanted to kill, but the longer you waited the more the thought festered inside you. your fingers are still curled tightly around the envelope you don’t want to open, and his fingers are skill curled around your heart.

“Wait!” The word escapes from your mouth like a thunderclap, everyone’s eyes turn to you, “Please don't vote yet.”

Nanami tilts her head, a sweet smile on her lips that doesn't match the sorrow in her eyes “It’s okay. I need to go.”

You feel a tear spill over and run slowly down your cheek. Your hands are shaking, “Nanami. You don't .”

Souda groans, “I thought we were done! Why do you guys keep doing this?”

“Yeah.” Hinata says turning to you, “What is it? What happened?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you struggle to find the words. The room is closing around you and it feels like there is a vice affixed to your lungs, “What if he didn't want to kill the traitor. What if he wanted to kill everyone else?” 

“WHAT?” Souda screams, and the room fills with noise. Everyone is arguing and talking over each other, but you don't even hear it. Your fingers are shaking as you flip the envelope over, running your nail under the seam delicately, wanting to make sure it doesn't tear. (you don’t notice, but Monokuma is leaning forward with a grin on his face). It pops open and you reach inside. It isn't really a letter, it’s little more than a few worlds scrawled onto a notecard, but it changes to course of the trial all the same.

My life for yours

I love you

You clap a hand over your mouth and a sob rips through you. Tears rolling down your cheeks in rivlets as your body shakes, you collapse forward onto the podium. Your legs have given out. It was you . That moment in the funhouse, when his smile softed and his eyes turned bright, he thought the traitor was you . Because you took the time to love him, whatever sin he believed the rest of your cohort committed he thought you absolved. Innocent. You weren’t . He died for you and you weren't even the person he wanted to save. Did you even deserve to live now? Knowing it was a fictional version of yourself that he died for and not your true self? You knew the answer, and it made your next move just a little easier. 

You swallow, using your arms to push yourself back up. Breathing as deeply and evenly as you can, you force yourself to smile, “I killed him.” the words feel disgusting on your tongue, but they are true all the same, “It was me.” all the eyes in the room turn to you and you can feel them all, the confusion, the hatred, the sadness, it fills you up until you are bubbling over, crying and laughing all at once, “he thought i was the traitor. The grenade with the poison, I threw it. Nanami is innocent.” You pass the note back to Hinata, and his face pales when he reads it.

“But I thought…” Sonia starts, watching the realisation dawn on Hinata’s face, “I thought Nanami was the traitor.” 

“She is.” You say, “But...I was kind to him.” You turn to Hinata again, it’s hard to see him through your watery eyes, “Will you convince them for me?”

Hinata’s face is grave, but he nods.

*

There is little time for goodbyes. Just before Monokuma pulls you away, Nanami grabs you by the hand and smiles.

“They told me to keep an eye on the two of you.” She says, “What happens twice will always happen a third time.

”“What do you mean?”

A tear cascades down her cheek, you notice it glitters eerily in a way real tears never would, “love transcends memory.”

“Wait- Nanami what-” 

“ALL RIGHT! TIMES UP!” Monokuma yells, “And I have the perfect punishment ready for the Ultimate Empath.”

You grab Nanami’s hand tighter, desperation racing up your spine, “Nanami, what happened two times? You have to tell me please-”

A metal collar snaps around your throat and you’re tugged backwards, feet scrambling against the ground as it races under you. Your reach out a hand, Nanami’s name screeching from your lips but the familiar figures of your classmates grow smaller and smaller as you disappear down a hallway and into the darkness. Something slams you down in a small wooden chair, the room is pitch black and you can't see a single thing. 

You try to struggle and a set of metal shackles clamp around your wrists and ankles. It’s quiet. You can hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat and the whirring of machinery. You’re going to die. A sob catches in your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over. Then, a flash of light behind your eyelids, and something (or someone) comes up from behind you, forcing your eyes open.

 “No…” you whimper, struggling against your restraints with a new determination. The metal bites into your skin and you writhe and shake, your heart is pounding and you can't breathe , “NO! Don't make me look. Don't. PLEASE!” 

Whatever they are using to keep your eyes open does not relent. You are sobbing and begging and pleading, but they make you watch.

Komaeda is sticking the duct tape over his mouth. He lifts up the knife, and the determination in his eyes morphs into fear. His hand shakes, and he drives the knife into his thigh. You scream, trying so hard to escape that the chair is creaking and groaning under you. He stabs again and again and again. Knife down the arm, knife through the palm. You feel it all. Slamming your head backwards into the back of the chair, bitterly hoping that you’ll crack your skull open like an egg. You want to die. 

He is just lying there now. All alone. Staring up at the spear where it dangles above him. It hurts, it hurts so much. He is all alone, you left him to die all alone. You’re like a rabid animal, twisting and turning in the chair, unhinged and terrified. He is still just lying there . You can’t stop crying, your chest is hurting from the way your breath heaves and from the shrieks that won't stop leaving your throat. Then, a door opens. Now that you know to listen for it, you recognise the sound of monokuma panels toppling over, and the woosh as the curtain catches alight. The determination in his eyes is back, but then…

“Oh god! Is he back there?” That was your voice, “We need to put out this fire, if he’s back there he's going to die!”

Komaeda laughs behind the tape. Eyes softening. He loves you loves you loves you. He’s going to miss you. 

You aren't making any noise anymore, your mouth is hung open in a silent scream as you feel your heart beating in tandem with his, “I love you…too” you whisper, your voice shattered and wheezy.

His eyes open wider and for a moment you think he heard you, but then you realise what he heard was the sound of the fire grenades shattering. For the first time, during this whole ordeal, he feels regret. Just before the poison reaches him, he changes his mind, maybe he doesn't want to die. It kills you. Your very being is twisting and warping, your heart catches on a hook and is reeled back into shore, the tears running down your face begin to boil and steam. You watch him as he starts to writhe, screaming inaudibly behind the tape, struggling against his restraints as the poison enters his system....and you feel it.

Finality, relief, and a bittersweet goodbye. 

His eyes glaze over, and your soul rips in half.

But then, the joke is on Monokuma, because whatever he does to you, however he deals the final blow. It doesn't matter. You are no longer there. You’re in a classroom a million miles away, sitting on the windowsill with the boy you are in love with. His nervous fingers, gently intertwined with yours.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 3: Boundaries and Text Messages

Regular weekly update! Look at me go! This one took me ages to write for absolutely no reason, and then ages to edit because the AO3 text editor kicked my ass. Hopefully the formatting isn’t a dumpster fire, and hopefully you enjoy! Sidenote: you are always welcome to scream about Hotch, nsforwork or not, in my inbox.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 3, Boundaries and Text Messages

Chapter Summary: You discover that the unsub isn't what he seems, and overstep some boundaries you probably shouldn't have.

Words: 2291

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Back in Hotch’s hotel room, the three of you were sitting on the ground, surrounded by textbooks and torn-out pages covered in the seemingly mindless scrawls of the suspect. Well, you and Morgan were on the floor; Hotch was at the desk chair. Hotch wasn’t really a sit-on-the-floor type of person.

Morgan groaned and rubbed his temples for the third time in an hour. “It means nothing, man. He researched all this shit so he could commit the crimes in a way that would fuck with us.”

Hotch sighed and nodded in agreement. “It certainly seems that way. That explains the inconsistencies in the profile. However, we can still understand the subject by the signatures he chose.” He pointed to a scribbled note in a textbook section about the psychology surrounding different methods of murder: “Slashing throat? Effective + easy.”

He looked at you. “What can this note tell us about our subject?”

“Um, it doesn’t sound like the cause of death is important to him. Like it’s just something he needs to do. A necessity. Right?” you responded, somewhat unprepared for this sort of pop quiz.

“Exactly. And this tells us more about him. This isn’t about the kill; it’s about what he does beforehand. It’s about the rape,” Hotch said. “Don’t be so humble. You know more than you think you do.”

Your face felt hot, and you looked at the floor - an increasingly regular occurrence around him.

Morgan spoke up, still visibly exasperated. “If he spent so much time trying to throw us off, why did he pick victims that were so easy to tie to him?”

“He’s an idiot?” you offered before you could stop yourself.

Really professional. Holy shit, please shut up.

The faintest trace of a smirk graced Hotch’s face. “You’re not entirely wrong. He isn’t particularly intelligent, based on the information we’ve gathered so far. Not nearly as complex as we initially assumed.”

“Yeah, well, either way, he’s a nut. And Gracia can’t find anything about where he might be, and I’m starving,” Morgan said, standing up. “I’m gonna pick something up. You guys want anything?”

“Get me whatever looks good,” replied Hotch, focused on whatever written ramblings he was currently dissecting.

“You?” Morgan asked you.

“Just get me whatever you get him,” you said. “Thanks, Morgan.”

Morgan nodded and grabbed his jacket. “Be back soon.”

He closed the door, leaving you alone with your boss that you definitely didn’t have an erotic dream about the night before. You tried to focus on the textbook, but the words swam. After a few minutes, you huffed and set the book down.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for him right now instead of reading his weird psychobabble?”

Hotch looked up from his work with a raised eyebrow.

You continued, “I just mean, isn’t it more important to stop him from killing again? We already know he did it based on the stuff he wrote in the books, we don’t need to fully understand his motivations to confirm that.”

“Yes,” Hotch said, “but these offenders rarely cease their behavior out of nowhere. His appetite is alarming; he took three victims at once. We don’t know if those were even his first assaults or kills. Given that Garcia couldn’t locate any family or friends, we have no idea where he might be, so our time is best spent learning how to predict his actions and respond if someone else goes missing.”

He was correct, of course, but it just didn’t feel right - like you were sitting and waiting for something terrible to happen before you could do anything. Hotch must have sensed your frustration, because he leaned forward towards you, elbows resting on his knees, and continued in a slightly softer tone, “I know you feel helpless. We all do in situations like these. But trust me, we’re accomplishing more here than we would be trying to canvas the entire city.”

“I know,” you mumbled. “You’re right. It’s just, seeing the photos of those girls, knowing the type of person that’s out there, it’s hard to convince myself I’m doing enough just sitting here.”

“You’re not just sitting here, and you know that,” Hotch said, sternly. “You’re doing your job. People will die with or without us; our job isn’t to save them. It’s to catch the people that kill them.”

“But how do you deal with it?” you asked, growing more bold than you probably should be. You weren’t just asking about this case anymore, and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted him to understand that. You wanted to ask him how he did it - how he woke up every morning alone, how he suffered an unimaginable loss at the hands of some of the purest evil society could produce and went back to the job that showed him more of that evil every day.

Judging by the hard set of his jaw, he knew exactly what you were getting at.

“I do it because I have to,” he said. Every word sounded measured, like he was explaining something he had dozens of times before.

“You don’t,” you whispered, but you knew you were wrong, at least to him. You knew he felt it was his responsibility to shoulder the burden so other families didn’t have to experience what he did. You had a background in psychology, and this was pretty low hanging fruit. A therapist would have a field day with him, but you weren’t a therapist, and you certainly weren’t in any position to tell your boss, a leader with decades of experience in the field, that he shouldn’t be taking all of this on.

He evidently didn’t find your comment worthy of a response, as he went back to picking through the pile of evidence. You’d hit a nerve though - his posture was more rigid, his almost-permanent scowl even more pronounced. The tension built with every second of silence, and you suddenly wished you could go back and erase the conversation.

Thinking better of trying to repair the damage you’d done, you kept the subsequent conversation focused on the profile. By the time Morgan got back, you had a fairly good idea of the suspect’s psychology, and after a quick break for fried rice and a video chat with the team, JJ set up to deliver a press conference from the police precinct in Vegas. Hotch switched on the news on the hotel TV, and you sat back to watch.

“The man currently suspected of committing the triple homicide that left bodies here in Vegas, in Phoenix, and in San Diego is an obsessive sexual predator,” JJ said to a waiting crowd of reporters and police. “He displays characteristics of a stalker, and women who interact with him may describe him as creepy or off-putting. Though murder is not his ultimate goal - in fact, he may not be completely comfortable with the act - he views it as a necessary step to dispose of his victims post-assault.”

“Do we usually do this?” you whispered to Morgan, “Release the whole profile publicly?”

“Nah, but with this guy, we want him to know we’re onto him,” he said back, trying not to disturb Hotch, who was watching JJ’s address intently. “He put so much effort into throwing us off, we gotta let him know we see through his bullshit. It’s the only play we got right now, considering we got no idea where he is.”

You turned back to the screen, where JJ had moved on to talking about the suspect. “His name is Ellory Matthews,” she said, holding up his ID photo. “He’s a 24 year old white male, about 5’9” and 200 pounds. We have strong reason to suspect he is involved and currently trying to evade the police. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous, so if you see him, please do not approach and call 911 immediately.”

Hotch, apparently having heard enough, stood up and turned off the TV. “Hopefully someone has seen him and can tell us where he is. If not, this should be enough to scare him into making a mistake.”

You tried not to think about the fact that a mistake still probably involved someone being hurt or killed.

“Get some rest. I’ll clean up here. Morgan, before you head to bed, call Garcia again and see if she’s found anything that can point us to where he might be.”

“Got it, I’ll let you know. Night, Hotch,” Morgan said.

You echoed Morgan and headed back to your room.

____________

After getting ready and tucking into bed, you found yourself completely unable to fall asleep. The conversation with Hotch kept replaying in your head - how resentful he’d looked when you asked him how he does his job, knowing that you were asking about it in relation to his family members’ deaths. He was a reasonable man, and you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong on the surface, but you shouldn't have pushed it, especially since the events you were referencing had been relayed to you by JJ in private. You weren’t even sure he wanted you to know about what happened to his wife and kid.

Shit, I might have really fucked up.

You rolled over and yanked your phone off the charger, and before you had time to convince yourself it was a bad idea, you sent him a message.

Me: Hey, sorry to bother you, I know it’s late. I just wanted to apologize if I offended you during our conversation earlier. You’re an incredible agent and boss and I didn’t mean to imply you shouldn’t be in the field for any reason.

You scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, waiting for his response, but he texted back almost immediately. Knowing him, he hadn’t even made an attempt to go to bed; he was probably still up reviewing the case.

Agent Hotchner: I understand. No need to apologize. I knew you’d hear about what happened sooner or later, and it’s natural to question my judgement, considering. I hope my actions in the field haven’t done anything to lend credence to that concern.

A weight lifted from your shoulders at his response, knowing he wasn’t angry with you.

Me: No, not at all, Sir. You and the team have been incredible and I’ve already learned so much. If I ask a question, please know it’s for my own learning rather than questioning your decisions!

Agent Hotchner: I’m glad to hear that. Please always feel free to ask questions.

Me: Thank you so much! Will do!

Satisfied with conversation, you set the phone back on the nightstand and rolled over. A few moments later, though, it buzzed again, and you looked at the screen.

Agent Hotchner: “Sir” is a little formal for text messages though, isn’t it?

You blinked, struggling to process the tone of the message. Was Aaron Hotchner making a joke? You messaged him back hesitantly.

Me: Can never be too formal! :) Is there something you’d prefer?

Agent Hotchner: Oh, I’m sure you can figure something out.

Your eyes widened at that, and you sat up in bed, staring at your screen. If you thought he was messing with you before, this was more; this was almost… flirting.

Ok, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, you thought, trying to calm your embarrassingly high heart rate. He’s older. Way older. He probably doesn’t text that much, and he probably doesn’t realize how that came off.

Me: I’ll let you know when I do.

Agent Hotchner: Please do. Sleep well.

You placed the phone back on the bedside table, almost shaking with adrenaline. What was wrong with you lately? First you have a sex dream about your boss (who’s old enough to be your parent, you might add), and now you’re freaking out because he texted you something that could possibly be, in some interpretations, construed as flirting.

Hotch was attractive, of course. You’d have to be an idiot not to admit that. He was handsome in a way you didn’t see often - not the obvious, in-your-face stunning like Morgan was, or even the adorable, put-together look that Reid gave off. Hotch was old-school handsome, like he should be in a black and white movie smoking a cigarette while his doting wife made him dinner.

Or something. It’s not like you’d thought about this before.

But even if he was handsome to such a degree that seeing him with two buttons on his dress shirt undone nearly gave you a heart attack, leaning into this fantasy you were unconsciously creating where your relationship was anything more than boss and intern had the potential to destroy your career. Hotch could read people like a book, and if you were unable to conduct yourself normally and effectively at work for any reason, your internship and aspirations would be tossed out to the street.

Time to stop being an idiot.

Sometime during your mental dissection of the text conversation and its implications, you must have fallen asleep. You were awoken to a still-dark room and someone gently squeezing your shoulder, saying your name.

“Wha- oh, it’s you. I’m so sorry, did I miss something? What’s going on?” you asked, still not fully conscious.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Hotch replied, standing over you. You were suddenly thankful for the dark room and the blanket that were covering your lack of pants. “I tried calling you and knocking, but you didn’t respond. I figured you’d forgotten to turn your ringer on.”

“Shit, yeah, I did. I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up. “What did you need?”

“It’s Ellory Matthews. Police caught him trying to kidnap another girl. He’s in custody.”

[geralehane]

who are you wearing?

a concept: an old lady in an old shop selling old costumes for halloween. nothing out of ordinary. except this shop most certainly wasn’t there yesterday, and the lady keeps giggling to herself, and the costumes have a minor peculiarity to them. hint: they transform their wearers into a more real version of that costume. of course they do.

and of course, clarke and lexa have no idea.

READ ON AO3

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“I will never understand your obsession with Halloween,” is the first thing Lexa announces when Clarke walks inside their favorite coffee shop near their campus. “But what baffles me even more is the fact that despite your ridiculous obsession with it, you still don’t have a costume.”

“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”

Lexa’s green eyes widen with indignation. “That’s the whole reason you called me here,” she points out, and Clarke groans, plopping onto a chair next to her. This is a disaster.

“This is a disaster! I will never find a costume. Halloween is today. What do I do?”

“Again,” Lexa says. “We’ve been over this. I meet you here, we get coffee, we go costume-hunting. Clarke,” she searches blue eyes, her gaze concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Clarke sighs and blows blonde hair from her eyes, propping her cheek up with her hand. “Yeah,” she sighs distractedly. “More or less. This semester is kicking my ass. And I’m pretty sure I failed my psych midterm.”

“Well.” Lexa bends her head down a little so she can catch Clarke’s eyes. When she does, she gives her a small smile and gently pushes hot chocolate towards her, gaze softening when Clarke grumpily takes it and peeks under the cup lid. Her smile only grows when Clarke lights up at having found two marshmallows she was hoping for. “That explains you not having a costume this year.”

“Here you go with bringing that up again.”

“Come on, Clarke.” She looks up at the smile in Lexa’s voice. Green eyes watch her, adoring and warm, and she feels some of her bad mood evaporate. It’s hard to stay upset when you have someone look at you like that.

Too bad that someone only goes as far as simply looking. Clarke sighs again, this time for a whole other reason that, unbeknownst to Lexa, has nothing to do with Halloween and everything to do with her.

She was really looking forward to tonight. Ever since Lexa’s kissed her at the beginning of their sophomore year, she’s been mulling some things over. Things like her recent break-up with Finn and her level of readiness for new relationships.

(And also things like Lexa looking really hot in tank tops.)

Anyway, her thinking resulted in some interesting conclusions and revelations that at first she wasn’t really ready to share with Lexa. But over the course of these two months, she’s been slowly opening herself up to the possibility of accepting Lexa’s offer that the other girl wordlessly left at the table, Clarke’s for the taking. She only hopes it doesn’t have an expiration date.

She also really, really hopes it’s still there to begin with. Or else she’ll look all kinds of stupid kissing Lexa tonight.

Doesn’t matter, though. She’ll look stupid anyway. Because she doesn’t have a costume.

Clarke groans and lets her head fall on her folded arms on the table. She half-sits, half-lays there, unmoving, not phased in the slightest when Lexa starts to carefully poke at her.

“Clarke,” Lexa says again, fond exasperation coloring her voice. “We’ll find you a costume. It won’t be a very good costume, but it’ll be something.”

“Thanks,” Clarke deadpans into her arm. “You ever think about becoming a motivational speaker? Could be a decent source of income if the whole lawyer thing doesn’t work out.”

“Look,” Lexa’s hand on her arm makes her lift her eyes. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t have a costume either.”

“Not really. Now I just feel sorry for both of us.”

Lexa snorts. The sound is so uncharacteristically undignified, and it makes Clarke’s chest flood with warmth. A weird thing to have fuzzy tingles over, sure. But - Lexa’s only ever like this with her. No one else. To Clarke, that’s something to cherish. “Okay. Didn’t think it would come to this, but you leave me no choice.” She pauses, no doubt for a dramatic effect. “I will let you choose my costume this year.”

“Really?!” Clarke jumps up, eyes wide. “Are you serious? Wait, I forgot who I was talking to for a second. Of course you're serious.”

“You’re a riot today,” Lexa notes dryly. “I’m gonna be a robot, aren’t I?”

Clarke scoffs. “Please,” she says. “Give me a little more credit than that.”

//

“Why.” Lexa stares at Clarke through the mirror, and the incredulity of her gaze makes Clarke seriously question her intellectual ability.

“You didn’t have to put it on, you know.”

“I wanted to demonstrate what a bad idea this is.”

Clarke shrugs. “Mission failed,” she lets Lexa know. “I think you look adorable.”

Lexa huffs, folding her arms defensively. “It’s a raccoon onesie,” she points out.

“I know,” Clarke replies in kind, barely resisting from sticking her tongue out at her. “I chose it.”

“Clarke,” Lexa sighs, uncrossing her arms and tugging on a fluffy ear on her hood. “I can’t go in a raccoon onesie.”

Clarke thinks of torturing her just a little bit more, but then reconsiders. Lexa’s already doing a lot for her. Besides, she really does look incredibly cute in this. And, well, in general, but she keeps that thought to herself. For now. “Fine,” she concedes, letting her arms hang lifelessly at her sides. “I give up. I told you we won’t find any good costumes. I’ll just be what I always am at parties. Drunk Clarke.” At Lexa’s disapproving glance, she rolls her eyes. “What? It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Right.” Lexa walks back into the changing room, long fluffy tail trailing after her on the floor. Clarke resists against the urge to step on it and makes a mental note to come back for it later. She sits on a small bench and sighs, waiting for Lexa to change so they can get out of there. This is their fourth store, and so far, nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, per se; a lot of crap, that’s for sure.

Lexa emerges several minutes later, holding the onesie at an arm’s length and glaring at everything and nothing in particular. “We could always wear crappy costumes ironically,” she says. “Pretend we’re being subversive.”

“I don’t want to subvert Halloween,” Clarke protests, rising to her feet. Lexa offers her an elbow, and she takes it, tentatively curling her hand around her bicep. At least something good came out of this whole mess, she thinks. A day with Lexa, followed by a night of partying with Lexa.

She’s not sure she even cares about a stupid costume anymore. But Lexa’s being so attentive - even more so than usual - and she can’t help but milk it for what it’s worth. Hey, she never claimed to be a good person.

“Just ironically, then,” Lexa corrects herself, throwing the onesie over the nearest rack as she confidently leads the way out of the store and into the street. “Or go with some annoying couple’s costume or something.” She’s trying really hard to sound casual, Clarke can tell.

She can tell because Lexa’s failing miserably. And she’s pretty sure she’s about to fail as spectacularly.

“Oh,” she says, cursing inwardly when her voice comes out more high-pitched than usual. “I mean. Oh. I didn’t even think of that.”

Lexa’s face falls slightly, and Clarke just wants to punch herself. She hurries to do damage control. “Because I didn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want to do! Because - I mean - I didn’t want to, uh, to assume anything. Because of… stuff. Us stuff, I mean.” by the time she’s finished with her babble fest, her face feels hot. Lexa keeps silent through all of it, slowing down so that they are standing still when Clarke’s done making a complete fool of herself.

When it’s clear she’s finished talking, Lexa speaks up. “I suggested this precisely because of… us stuff.”

Clarke blinks. “Oh.” And, seriously, can she say something other than that?

Lexa’s studying her carefully, her expression unreadable save for her eyes, vibrant and soft. “Are you - is that okay?” she asks.

“Oh, Lexa,” Clarke breathes out, smiling. All tension is suddenly gone from her body, replaced with relief and excitement, buzzing through her veins. “It’s more than okay,” she murmurs, sliding her hand down to Lexa’s and taking it in her own. Lexa’s fingers automatically lace with her own, and she feels a sweet pang in her chest at that. “I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about… stuff.”

“Us stuff?” Lexa clarifies, smiling her small smile that Clarke really, really wants to kiss off her face. She swallows, willing herself to stay put. At least buy her dinner first, Griffin, she tells herself sternly. After what you’ve put her through, this is the least you can do.

(There... may have been some casual hook-ups between breaking up with Finn and realizing Grand Things about her relationship with Lexa that she doesn’t want to think about. If the sharp lock of Lexa’s jaw at a mere mention of them is any indication, she probably doesn’t want to think about them, either.)

So she takes a deep breath and smiles again, shyly. “Yes. Definitely us stuff.”

She wants to say something else, she knows she does. She has a speech prepared and everything - but Lexa’s eyes fall down to her lips, hooded and soft, and suddenly her mind is blank. And, really, don’t actions speak louder than words anyway?

She’s already leaning in and closing her eyes, but she’s met with nothing when she hears Lexa’s voice again, a little scratchier and deeper than usual. “I think I found just the place.”

Clarke’s eyes fly open. Well, that was fast. She’s not the type of girl to shy away from putting out on a first date, but - they haven’t even had that date yet.

(Would that really be a bad thing? They’ve known each other for a long time. A year is a long time, right?)

“The place?” she asks, confused.

Lexa’s looking somewhere over her shoulder as she nods, in the direction of her gaze. “I think that’s exactly what you want,” she says. “It closes in twenty minutes, though. We should hurry.”

Clarke turns around, following Lexa’s stare. What she finds has her nearly squealing. And she doesn’t squeal. Ever. “Lexa,” she breathes excitedly. “This is perfect.”

Further down the street, there is a small shop. It’s antique-looking; a little rugged and a little run-down. Its small store windows display a myriad of halloween-themed things, from skulls to witch hats and what Clarke assumes are possible spell ingredients. Above the old, wooden door, there is a neon sign that couldn’t possibly look more out of place.

‘Costumes for every soul’, it flashes ominously and invitingly, luring Clarke in.

“It… actually is,” Lexa mulles. “Very… Halloween-y. It’s like it’s straight out of a Tim Burton movie.”

Clarke’s already walking towards it, her hand firmly holding onto Lexa’s, and Lexa has no choice but to follow.

The inside is even better than the outside, in Clarke’s honest - and totally right - opinion. It’s dusty, old wood creaking and red brick walls uneven. It’s also more spacious than she originally gave it credit for. Lexa’s hand squeezes hers, and she squeezes back, looking around in complete awe.

She’d, like, actually live here.

“This is so cool,” she hears Lexa exhale next to her.

“I thought you didn’t like Halloween.”

“I can appreciate the aesthetics,” Lexa fires back, but, before they can settle into their comfortable banter, loud coughing behind them makes them jump and sharply turn around to face the counter.

They are greeted by the sight of an old lady in a pointy hat, looking at them with a suspicious squint. “Not stealing, are you?” she utters, and her eyes narrow even further.

Clarke shakes her head while Lexa breathes through her nose, indignant. “No, we’re not stealing anything,” she reassures the old lady who doesn’t look like she believes her. “We’re here to find a costume. For both us.”

The lady looks between them. Glances down at their joined hands, and Clarke bristles when her scowl deepens. “A couple’s costume?” she grunts, clearly displeased.

Clarke lifts her chin. “Yes,” she says defiantly, tightening her hand around Lexa’s. “A couple’s costume.”

She prepares herself for the inevitable backlash they are about to face, no doubt. She certainly doesn’t expect a wide smile to appear on the lady’s face, brightening her expression up.

She almost flinches when the woman clasps her hands together, looking positively giddy. “Well, dear,” she exclaims, “why didn’t you say so? No need to be shy in this shop, my sweet girl.” With an agility rarely possessed by people her age, the old lady walks out from behind the counter and hugs them by their shoulders, turning them around and leading them somewhere in the middle of the shop. Her dark-green robe trails after them on the ground. “I’ve just the thing for you, oh,” she leans in conspiratorially, grinning. “You’ll have a lot of fun tonight, my dear girl - a lot of fun!”

In hindsight, that should’ve been their cue to run away and never come back.

Of course, they stay put. “Okay,” Clarke says dubiously, blinking. “But we really just need a decent costume. Two.”

“Well, who d’you wanna be, darlin’?” she only now notices that the woman’s accent is drifting between extremes: Boston, british, southern drawl. Huh, she thinks to herself. She must have been an actress. Or wanted to be one.

“We, are,” Clarke glances at Lexa who’s watching the whole exchange with a small frown. “We’re not sure.”

“Well, that just will not do!” the woman gasps. “A serious matter, darlin’ - now would you like me to find something for ya or do you want to snoop around for a while?”

“We’ll look around,” Lexa finally speaks up, neutrally. “We won’t be long. Thank you.”

“But of course,” the woman’s smile widens even more, if that’s possible. “I shall leave you two to it. Grumpy little thang, that one - you take care of her, sweetheart,” she tells Clarke before turning sharply on her heels and disappearing between racks full of costumes.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here,” Lexa tries to move, but Clarke’s grip on her han becomes iron.

“Lexa,” she chuckles quietly. “Are you scared of that sweet old lady?”

“She’s not sweet, Clarke, she’s unsettling,” Lexa says in a serious tone.

Clarke only laughs harder. “I’m supposed to be the paranoid one, with the amount of horror movies I watch,” she teases Lexa. “Yet, here we are.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” Lexa tries weakly. But Clarke’s mind is already made up.

“Come on,” she tugs on her hand. The realization that they’ve been holding hands this entire time spreads pleasant hum through her body, and she eagerly welcomes it, running her thumb across the back of Lexa’s hand soothingly. “We promised we wouldn’t take long. Let’s find something cool.”

//

“So,” Lexa cocks her head to the side, looking Clarke up and down. “A quiet meltdown, an entire day, and five stores later, and you pick the cheesiest costume of all?”

Clarke finishes putting fake blood all over her mouth. “Wow,” she muses out loud. “You are a grumpy little thang.”

Lexa doesn’t even blink. “I am,” she says. “You already knew that.”

“Eh,” Clarke shrugs, readjusting the skirts of her dress. “I’m grumpier.”

Lexa can’t exactly argue, so she sighs and tugs on her black frock coat, critically surveying herself in Clarke’s mirror. “I don’t think I have enough blood on my shirt,” she comments. “I just look like a southern gentleman from the nineteenth century. Not a vampire.” She glances at Clarke again. “Are we really going as vampires?”

“Yup,” Clarke pops the ‘p’ when she answers. She’s almost finished with her make-up - it’s the darkest she’s ever wore it, and she can’t say she hates it. Dial it down a notch, and it could be a great look for dates at a bar.

Or private lapdances. They’ll figure it out. “Victorian vampires. You can’t go wrong with the classics.” Admittedly, she’s a little surprised with her own choice. But there was something about these costumes that hung in the back, looking brand new and perfectly tailored. The old lady practically squealed when she saw them wearing those, too.

The fact that she offered them fifty percent off only made her choice easier.

“There is classic, and there is cheesy,” Lexa notes thoughtfully, still looking at herself in the mirror. Oh, how Clarke gets her, She has trouble taking her eyes off Lexa, too. The frock coat accentuates her slim waist and regal posture. High pants show off her endlessly long legs, and a purposefully disheveled necktie around an open collar gives a lovely view of her slender neck.

Clarke comes up to her and fiddles with her tie some more before dipping her fingers in fake blood and dragging them down that beautiful neck, slowly, watching rich crimson color drip on the pristine white of Lexa’s shirt. And Lexa watches her.

“You do look great, you know,” she murmurs to her, lifting her hand to play with blonde locks. “Curls suit you.”

“They disarm people,” Clarke smirks, and if it’s just a touch wicked, Lexa doesn’t say anything. She’s really feeling this costume, okay? “I’m not really above using that to my advantage,” she says, dropping her voice an octave lower. She’s wearing flats, since she’s pretty sure she’ll constantly trip over her long dress in heels, and that gives Lexa a bigger height advantage than usual. Her shoes also have a small heel, which only serves to make her look taller than Clarke.

She thinks she’s okay with it.

“Spoken like a true Victorian vampire,” Lexa chuckles, her warm, minty breath hitting Clarke’s lips. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not really that cheesy.” She turns to look at them in the mirror, missing a slightly frustrated look that flashes through blue eyes.

‘Why won’t she just kiss me?’

(‘Is she waiting for a perfect moment, like I was?’)

“Yeah, well,” she voices instead, grabbing a wet wipe and cleaning the blood off her fingers. “With all the Batmans and Robins, we’ll definitely stand out.”

“You’re right,” Lexa gently takes her hand and places it on the inside of her bent elbow, and she smiles, leaning closer. “Now, I don’t know about you, dear,” Lexa drawls - or tries to - in her best British accent, “but I am positively hungry. Shall we show them how it’s done?”

“Yes, we shall,” Clarke chuckles, letting Lexa lead her out the door. “Tasteful mayhem, here we come.”

“And ruckus,” Lexa says. “Don’t forget ruckus.”

“I don’t think that’s the right word.”

“Whatever. I’m Victorian.”

//

“Boo!” Someone with a white sheet draped over them jumps from behind the door and screams out as soon as Clarke and Lexa walk in. Clarke screams back while Lexa drags a hand down her face.

“Raven, what the fuck?!”

Raven - and that’s exactly who it is, considering it’s her house they walked into - tugs the sheet off, grinning at them. “I totally got you, Woods,” she boasts, leaning on her good leg and lifting the cane to wave it in Lexa’s general direction. “Okay, this? Hot. You seeing anyone?”

“Only her sire and eternal lover,” Clarke says, and there is only a hint of joking in her tone. She gestures at herself, twirling so Raven can get a good look. “What do you say?”

Raven’s silent for a fraction of a second. “Hot,” she repeats, this time giving them both a once-over. “Alright, I just need to grab my jacket, and then we can go.” She turns, heading into the kitchen. “Blood kink’s definitely back on the list,” she mutters under her breath.

“What was that, Raven?”

“Nothing!”

Clarke shrugs. “See,” she says to Lexa who’s still shaking her head at Raven’s back. “Told you this is an awesome idea.”

“I’m already sold,” Lexa replies, smiling. “She’s right, you know.”

Clarke hums under her breath. “Right about what?” She’s really enjoying watching the tips of Lexa’s ears grow red.

“You are hot.”

The sound of gagging coming from their left makes them step away from each other - Clarke hasn’t even noticed when they got this close. “Get a room, eternal lover.”

“Get a costume,” Clarke shoots back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell me you’re going as your bedsheet.”

“Alright,” Raven shrugs, rolling the white sheet up and putting it under her arm. “I won’t.” At Clarke’s pointed stare, she scoffs. “Obviously not, Clarke. I’m a ghost! See?” She shakes the sheet in front of Clarke’s nose, laughing when she recoils, scowling.

“I can’t believe we stressed over our costumes so much and you’re going to put a sheet on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not my bedsheet. I bought it in this weird ass little shop downtown. Two bucks, baby!” Raven exclaims. “Whoa, easy there,” she says next, noticing Lexa flex her jaw muscles in irritation. “She’s all yours. Don’t mean no harm.”

“That’s a double negative.”

“Wow.” Raven gapes at her. “I’m wearing a sheet and I’m still cooler than both of you combined. Tonight’s gonna be so awesome!”

//

Tonight, in fact, does not turn out to be awesome at all. They don’t even make it to the party when something strange happens. And by strange, Clarke means some weird shit is going down.

At first, they feel dizzy. All three of them. Raven staggers first, almost losing her sheet. That’s what prompts her to tug it on. Clarke will never understand how her mind operates sometimes.

Lexa falters next, and Clarke follows immediately after, stopping and rubbing her forehead.

“Whoa,” Raven mumbles from under the sheet. “Headrush.”

“Yeah,” Lexa says. She goes to say something else, but words die in her throat when she stares over Raven’s shoulder who’s come to stand in front of them. “What the fuck?”

Clarke’s not sure what shakes her more - hearing Lexa swear or seeing what she sees next. Right here, in front of her very eyes, is the ugliest mob she’s ever seen. At first, she thinks it’s just a bunch of dudes wearing masks.

Until one of the dudes pins a screaming guy against a tree and bites his arm with his very real, very sharp, very inhuman teeth.

There were children here, on the street, trick-or-treating. Just now. Just a second ago. Where did they go?

Clarke hears a scream. It takes her awhile to realize it’s coming from her.

What the fuck, indeed.

“Come on,” she hears a familiar voice in her ear before she feels strong arms around her. “Let’s get back inside!”

Clarke can’t tear her eyes away from the scene before her. There’s so much blood. Actual blood. Someone runs up to help the poor guy; two men who wrestle the attacker and drag the victim away. So much blood. So much…

Blood…

Blood.

They barely make it back to Raven’s before they all collapse, breath caught from dull pain spreading brought their bodies starting at the center of their stomachs. Clarke briefly wonders if they are about to be sick from what they've witnessed, and then her mind goes blank.

When she rises back up, her finger lazily wiping at her mouth, everything is sharp and vivid and this sticky substance on her lips tastes heavenly.

Blood.

Lexa's eyes find hers, dark and bloodshot.

“Clarke.” Oh, how she missed that sound. Lexa's tongue curling around the edges of her name, ending with a soft click. She’s been deprived of it for a little over a century, and out of all tortures she had to endure in her lifetime, this has proved to be the worst one.

“My love,” she breathes, grasping the back of her neck, trailing her finger up her neck and gathering thick, fresh blood - she always was a messy eater, Clarke thinks with a blissful grin. “I found you.”

Behind them, Raven sits up, clutching her head and groaning. “What the…” she lifts her eyes that widen when they are greeted by the sight of her friends passionately making out right in her hallway.

But that shock is nothing compared to her glancing down and seeing what suspiciously looks like her own body lying lifelessly on the ground while she sits right in the middle of it. Like, right in the middle of it. As if she’s incorporeal, like an actual ghosts.

“What the fuck?!” seems like an appropriate phrase right about now.

She’s still staring at her own body, terrified, when she notices the house has grown silent, save for the sounds of mayhem outside. When she raises her eyes for a second time, she finds Clarke and Lexa studying her with rapt interest, identical smoldering gazes burning through her as Lexa presses her forehead to Clarke’s cheek, biting her lip at Clarke slowly dragging her nails across her jawline.

This is creepy and weirdly sexual. Normally, Raven would be all for that, but right now, with her seemingly dead body on the floor and two of her friends eyeing her like she’s meat on a stick, she’d much rather opt out of all of this.

“Come, darling,” Clarke says in what is actually a really good British accent. “Dinner is served.”

//

Since Raven is a fucking ghost now and Victorian vampires are apparently above drinking from the corpse, dinner party stops before it has a chance to begin. And there is no doubt in Raven’s mind that Clarke and Lexa are actual honest-to-god blood-drinking sun-hating cross-fearing weirdly-into-making-out-against-walls vampires.

The last part throws her off the most, because when they come back to their normal selves - and Raven can’t bear the thought of that not happening - knowing both of them, they are going to blame themselves and take forever to reconcile due to impressive emotional constipation on both ends. She’s surprised they even made it this far in the first place. Well. ‘Going to a Halloween party together’ this far. Not ‘about to have shameful and undoubtedly kinky sex on her couch’ this far. That was not a good far.

“Stop this!” she shouts, trying to haul Lexa off Clarke and helplessly watching as her arms pass right through her. “Lexa, you will regret this tomorrow, I’m telling you.”

Lexa growls. “I do not do regrets, little girl.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen yourself last Christmas.” Raven huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Too bad you don’t remember any of it.”

That’s the icing on top of this pile of shit that’s trying to pass as cake. Neither Clarke nor Lexa remember who they actually are. They’ve gone full-on MIstresses of the night or whatever.

And they are about to make the biggest mistake of their lives.

“Lexa, do not... Where’s your hand? Lexa, where’s your damn hand?! Oh my god - don’t bite her! Clarke, don’t you bite her back!”

Where are the Blakes when you need them?

Right on cue, her living room window shatters because a body comes hurling right through it, rolling over on the floor and springing to feet faster than lightning. “Civilians!” the overly excited body shouts in a deep voice, clutching an assault rifle in a confident grip. “We gotta get them to safety!”

“They were safe before you went all Universal Soldier on them, you moron,” a grumpy voice replies before the owner climbs in as well, mindful of the glass. “Raven’s going to kill you.”

“Who’s Raven?”

“She’s standing right in front of you - man, this is some dope shit you’re on,” Octavia informs her brother. The Blakes stare at Raven, one mildly apologetic and another with a blank look on his face.

“Great. Bellamy doesn’t remember anything, either, does he,” Raven says. Octavia shakes her head and walks up to her to give her a quick hug. Of course, she fails miserably. Her blue eyes widen with shock.

“Wha - how?! What the fuck’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Raven mumbles, taking a step back because seeing Octavia’s hand inside her chest is more than a little disturbing. “Let me guess. Bellamy is a soldier for Halloween.”

“Yeah, only he took it to a whole new level,” the last part is sneered at the boy as Octavia scowls. “He broke your goddamn window. Did you see that?”

“Was kinda hard not to. Okay, I have this insane theory that doesn’t make sense, only it’s the only thing that does. So here goes. I’m pretty sure we became our costumes. Like, half an hour ago. Bell’s a soldier,” she nods at Octavia’s brother who stands, unmoving, in a dark-green tank-top and military pants. “I, the idiot I am, went as a ghost,” she waves a hand over herself. “And our resident power couple went as vampires.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her eyes widen. “Oh shit. You’re - you guys are alive. Which means they can eat you.”

“Observant,” Clarke comments from the couch, her dress hiked up and half-unzipped, showing off stockings and pale shoulders. Damn, Lexa’s smooth. “I think I like this poor soul, may she never rest in peace.”

“That level of evil is completely unnecessary,” Raven mumbles.

Octavia whistles. “Her accent is actually really impressive.”

Raven doesn’t have time to think of a snappy reply, because Lexa chooses that moment to rise to her feet, eyes glinting with hunger and blood smeared over her neck and shirt. It’s not fake anymore. “Come, love,” she murmurs to Clarke, courteously extending her hand and helping her up. “Let’s feast. You will need all the strength for what I have planned for you tonight.”

“She’s talking about sex, right,” Octavia whispers to Raven.

“You don’t wanna know where Lexa’s hand was before you barged in. Also, I think you need to run. And fast.”

Lexa lets out a low, rumbling growl, her and Clarke slipping into their vampire faces. It’s downright terrifying - the way their foreheads grow bumps and their eyes burn a bright yellow, sharp teeth bared in a snarl. Octavia seems to think so, too, because she lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek. Raven makes a mental note to tease her about it tomorrow.

GIven that they make it out of here alive.

“Out of the way, lady,” Bellamy roars, rushing forward and standing between them and the vampires, his rifle ready. “The no-shooting order is still in place?” he asks, his eyes trained on Clarke and Lexa who are slowly advancing on them, looking amused.

“Don’t shoot!” Raven panics. “You may not remember it, but they are your friends. Well. Kind of.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bellamy states. Right before Lexa takes him by his neck and throws him into a wall.

“Holy shit!” his sister yelps. “She just threw him into a wall!”

“I know, I was there,” Raven yells back before focusing her eyes on Lexa’s face. Lexa’s terrifying, deformed face. “Lexa,” she tries. “Please, please listen to me. We’re your friends. You lost your memory, but you have to know it somewhere. Me, O, Clarke, even Bellamy, we’re all friends, and if you kill one of them, you will never forgive yourself. Ever.”

Lexa scoffs. “I have no idea who any of you are,” she says. “But I do know what I am.” she throws a quick glance over her shoulder where Clarke is watching her, eyes hooded and smirk lazy. “I am starving.”

“Lexa, please, no!” Raven screams when the vampire lunges at Octavia who ducks and falls to the floor. She watches, helplessly, as she rolls over and tries to fight Lexa off, clutching something in her hand. “Wait, O, you can’t kill her, either!”

“Look!” Octavia cries, thrusting something at Lexa’s face who recoils, caught off-guard. “Look! We’re not lying, just look!”

In her grip, knuckles white from pressure, is a photograph Finn took of all of them last summer. They are at the beach, smiling into the camera - everyone except Lexa who’s looking at Clarke with a soft smile, an arm draped over her shoulder. It must have been knocked off the phone stand when Lexa pushed Clarke to the couch.

“I don’t understand,” Lexa blinks, all earlier aggression gone as she stares at the photo, confused. Clarke joins her, looking over her shoulder and frowning prettily at what she sees. “This is me. And you. With-” she looks up at Raven, flabbergasted. “With them.”

“Slayer!” someone yells outside, and everyone looks out the window where a mismatched mob walks through the street, smashing car windows and mailboxes on their way, lead by a blonde man in a black duster. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Clarke’s eyes narrow. “Is that William-”

Bellamy swiftly knocking both of them out with a butt of his rifle to the temple is completely out of blue and therefore absolutely in line with the night’s theme. Raven’s not even that surprised. “I don’t hit women,” he says. “But desperate times-”

“Yeah, whatever, Rambo,” she sighs. “Let’s get them tied up and hope duct tape holds up against vampire strength.”

//

“I really am sorry,” Lexa repeats, rubbing her temple. “I don’t actually want to kill your sister. Or throw you into walls.”

“Well,” Clarke speaks up. “Actually.” When everyone’s eyes fall on her, she shrugs. “What? Not all the time. Only when they bring that fine Blake assholery to the table.”

“That sounded wrong on so many levels,” Raven notes, bringing another bag of frozen peas and offering it to Lexa who takes it gratefully, pressing it to her head.

“I’m sorry too,” Bell says, gesturing at Lexa’s hand that holds the peas. “That was so bizarre. LIke being in a dream, while aware of being in a dream.”

“A nightmare, more like it,” Clarke corrects him. “Not that it’s very uncommon here.”

“Is it too late to switch schools?” Lexa asks.

“Afraid so.”

They woke up tied to a pole in Raven’s basement, with Raven and the Blake siblings watching them in tense silence. Clarke was ready to snarl and snap their necks when the same wave of dizzy nausea hit them, and everyone but Octavia doubled over, groaning in pain. When Clarke came to it a second time, Raven was fiercely hugging O and squeezing a dazed Bellamy’s hand who had a small toy rifle in his other one.

Lexa was even more dazed, blinking at her owlishly with hands tied behind her back. “There’s no way that actually happened.”

Except it did.

Now, they are sitting in Raven’s living room after helping her clean up. Bell got a tiny cut on his finger when picking up glass, and Clarke’s never been more relieved to feel sick when a tiny droplet of blood slid down his palm before he wiped it away.

Fucking Sunnydale.

“Well,” Bell clears his throat, standing up. Octavia joins him. “We better get going. The frat is most likely in ruins right now.” He grabs the last cookie from the plate on his way out. “See you guys later.”

“We should probably go back to the dorms, too,” Lexa says. “I really want to change out of this costume.”

“Agreed,” Clarke shudders. “Hey," she says, realizing something. "How come Octavia stayed herself?"

"Oh, that's because she's the only one out of all of us who got her costume at a different shop," Raven replies.

Clarke nods. "Well, Halloween might very well be ruined forever.”

“Yeah, right,” Raven snorts. “Say it to my face a year from now.”

They exchange hugs with her when they leave, and Clarke doesn’t quite catch the words Raven whispers to Lexa, but, judging by Lexa’s faint blush, it’s not something she wants to hear, anyway.

They walk down the street in tense silence, and Clarke’s never thought she’d say this, but Lexa’s presence is heavy and uncomfortable. Halfway through the walk, she has enough.

“Lexa-”

“Clarke-” Apparently, Lexa has the same idea. They look at each other, frozen, before laughing quietly, in unison.

“You go,” Lexa says when they calm down, and Clarke nods.

“Okay.” she takes a deep breath. “Okay.” and then she kisses her.

Lexa’s lips are soft and warm and don’t taste like blood at all. Clarke lets it ground her, lets out a soft sigh and leans even closer, looping her arms around her neck and smiling when she feels Lexa’s hands on the small of her back, tentative and gentle.

It’s bizarre. Kissing Lexa after kissing Lexa. Thinking of Lexa, a girl she met a year ago, and thinking of Lexa, her creation, her love, the one she’s lost over a century ago. Yearning for her - starving for her while being fully aware that the past she has in her head simply does not exist.

But at the same time, it’s the most intense feeling she’s ever experienced, and it might be terrible, but she kind of doesn’t want it to end just yet.

Will these memories ever fade? Will they clash with the life they used to have, or will they entwine each other until it’s all they know?

“Clarke.” Lexa’s lips are red and kiss-bruised. and her shuddering breath sends a shiver down Clarke’s spine, pleasant and sharp. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Lexa,” she says, but Lexa shakes her head, silencing her.

“No, I’m… This is confusing,” she starts quietly. “But - I’m sorry, my love,” gentle fingers under her chin, a thumb smoothing over her jaw. Clarke leans into it, heart bleeding all over. “For waiting so long to find you.”

“So you still remember, too,” Clarke exhales. Lexa watches tears slide down her cheek, slowly and silently, from blue eyes that sparkle with pain and relief.

Great. Not only were she and Lexa forced into a weird modern soulmate tale, her narrative might slip into an annoying flowery kind every now and then.

“Perhaps we’ll forget soon. Perhaps not.” Green eyes are earnest and soft. “Either way, I don’t think I care.”

And that - that’s all Clarke really needs to hear. A confirmation that Lexa’s not about to run off to deal with these overwhelming feelings on her own. A confirmation that Lexa will stay there.

“But you still have to buy me dinner first before putting your hands in… places,” she notes, enjoying Lexa’s blush.

Weird modern soulmate tale doesn’t sound so bad, anyway.

Not bad at all.

Somewhere in the quiet of the night, the wind picks up a faint sound of giggling, carrying it above two girls softly kissing under moonlight.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (1)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Finally. After months and months of searching for a suitable space, you have found it. Even if it means leave Indiana. After all, you no longer have anything to hold you back there and a change of landscape will do the greatest good. You’ve moved to Roseville, Ohio in order to open your own coffee shop and found locals curious but welcoming to you. Your new apartment, big enough for a couple is certainly simple but with all the decorations you have in your boxes, you will make it as comfortable and warm as you can. You get your apartment keys from James Lawson your landlord, an adorable old man who lives with his wife for forty years.  

He warned you about the hot water system that was shared among all residents, so keep it in mind if you don’t want to have some complaint from them. Rent is reasonable and if you have any problem or just want to talk, you just have to knock on his door. 

“One last thing young girl! Be careful outside! With these little hooligans, filthy little scoundrels who give no respect for their elders, smoking their bullshit drugs and...” he said becoming grumpier before his wife puts his hand on his shoulder

“Calm down my dear...think of your heart. But I agree and that’s not the worst. Robbery and aggressions happen often if they saw you weak or alone. Just for...Fun as they said. It's really worrying to see such a thing when they could do something better for everyone.” She said.

“No worries! If someone try to piss me off, I'll just kick his ass! It’s not the first time and I know it wouldn’t be the last. As my father said: hit a man where it hurts! But thanks for warning me anyway. You answer with that smile of yours before going to your car get your boxes.

It was exhausting and you sigh in relief when you put the last box on the ground to close the door behind you. After two hours of household and storage with some music to give you motivation, you decide to go out to take care of what will soon be your coffee shop.  Located two blocks away, the old building, once a diner, was bigger than you thought. Fortunately, the companies you hired to do work have finished the day before, all that remains is to place the material and decorations, tables and chairs and wait for the delivery of coffee.

“Damn it’s much bigger than I expected. But that’s not bad after all! Still...I have to find a name. Not always the easiest part. The Nebula? Galaxia?  Sugar Star?” you said tilting your head thinking of many names as you enter into the shop.  

Everything was as you imagine. From walls to the smallest decorations, everything, without overloading, reminded space. Pleasant, relaxing, a real place to escape after a busy and stressful day while drinking a good coffee and devouring a slice of pie or other pastry. You start to organise everything, placing seats, tables and chairs to maximize space allowing future customers to move freely without getting in the way. Suddenly you hear someone knocking on the door and when you turn to see who it is, you notice a woman, in her forties, wearing an apron adorned with flowers that stood in front of the entrance.

“Wow...I didn’t think this place would change that much. and I love it! Much more than Joe's old dinner. I assume you're the new owner? I’m Lindsey Parson, I own the flower shop” she said with a bright smile offering her hand.

“Yes ma’am! Nice to meet you!” you answer as you introduced yourself shaking her hand.  

“I hope you’ll enjoy Roseville. And that your business will succeed. When do you think you're going to open it?  

“Oh...Well if all goes well, I think I could welcome my first customers on Wednesday! I just have to...find a name.”

“It's always the hardest thing to do when you open a business. I’m sure you’ll find it. And if you want, I can talk about your coffee to my friends. They’ll be delighted to go in a new place to share some news over a good coffee or tea.  

“Thanks a lot! that’s really nice of you! I think I’ll be happy to live here than in Indiana.”

“If he’s not decided to make you his prey...” whispered Lindsey turning her face outside slightly worried.

You tilted you head at her words. His prey? Who? Who is she talking about? She breathes deeply and turn her face again to you with a little smile like she doesn’t want to scare you. Not when you’ve just arrived here.

“You know I'm not afraid about some weirdo punk or pervert bastard. If someone looks for troubles, I’ll kick them where it hurts: nuts or ass they’ll choose.” you reply by shrugging your shoulders.

“You’ve got guts, but it won't stop Ghostface from killing you if he decided to make you his next victim. Since many months, he killed many persons and no one know who is he. He’s a real shadow, stalking you and waiting for the perfect moment to hit his victim. Even if you’re not afraid, you should be careful, because he will not give you time or opportunity to defend yourself or run away.” said Lindsey.

“Great. I always move in at the right moment. Well, I guess I'm cursed or something.” you say with a sigh. “Cops have no leads to find him? he must have left traces, clues! no crimes and criminals are perfect. Except in thrillers.”

“He’s not called Ghostface for nothing girl. With him It’s like you try to catch the air in your hand, he plays and makes fun of the cops. He humiliates them and it pissed them off. So please, take care of yourself. and If you see something weird call the cops immediately. Well, I’m going back to my shop. See you around! And good luck!”

She waves her hand, and you wave back at her before she leaves. A few minutes later, you leave the coffee shop making sure all the doors are closed. Since coffee delivery doesn't arrive until tomorrow morning, you have the rest of the day and tomorrow to find a name. the hardest is yet to come. You make your way at home and once you arrive, you park and read the newspaper you bought on the road. After what you’ve heard from Lindsey, you better know more about that Ghostface guy. If cops don’t have any clues about him, the journalist who made the article on the other hand, named Jed Olsen, seems to make a real investigation work.  

It's real impressive to see how many details he wrote about the last murder and the victim, a young man named Travis Maloney. Maybe he’s an experienced journalist, working for 25 years, in the fifties, dressed surely with old suspender pants, a slightly mis tied tie, dual focus glasses and an onset of baldness. And also, some smell of tobacco that smokes your nostrils. Imagine all this makes you wince, hope you will never deal with this guy, you will be good at disinfecting the whole apartment after. Once in the building you go to your mailbox to pick up the mail you have transferred as well as some advertisements. As you reach your home, you turned the corner and lost in your throughs you met with someone’s nose.  

“Ouch...damn It hurts. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay? “you start to say before raising your head to your unfortunate interlocutor.  

Then you freeze. He was a little taller than you, his coppery blond hair almost approaching red, slightly wavy, came to the shoulders to fits his thin face. He was wearing a black shirt covered by a khaki jacket, black pants and shiny brown dress shoes. But what attracted you the most was his piercing blue eyes hidden behind thin rectangular glasses.  He’s handsome, even if he looks like a nerdy boy. He groaned a little as he rubbed his nose before looking at you.  

“Well...at least I can say it’s a way to say hello. I'm fine my nose is not fallen so...you can breathe you need more strength to broke it.” He laughed putting his glasses back in place. “What about you?”

“I’m okay, my brain still okay...even if sometimes I should use it more often to avoid something like this.” You answer with a nervous laugh as you introduced yourself. “You sure everything is okay? I didn’t break your glasses or anything?!”  

“No worries really.” He assured with an angelic smile. Damn he looks like an angel. “Anyways, I have to change them sooner or later so...it’s doesn’t matter. Nice to meet you, I'm Jed Olsen, it’s seems like you’re my new neighbour, I live the door right next to you.”  

You froze again. Okay. Do you remember what you thought before about him? Forget it. Jed Olsen is not an old man that stinks of tobacco but that handsome nerdy boy right in front of you. More he is your neighbour. You mentally slap yourself to have disfigured him in this way.  

“Jed? I don’t want to be rude but you look very young to carry a name too ... Old. When I hear that name, I feel like we're talking about someone who has fifty / sixty years old...No offence.” You reply a little embarrassed.  

“Let’s just say my parents considered me as a mistake. Maybe that’s why they gave me this old name. To remind me that I was not wanted” said Jed.

“Sorry. But at least they wrong! Look at you! You pull off the nerd look very well! If all the nerds, and more all men were physically like you, this would-be paradise on Earth!”

Oh Shit...did you just say this out loud? Yes, you do, and you mentally slap yourself again to say that JUST in front of him. Jed’s eyes blinked for several seconds, a little surprised about what you say before giving you a little smile scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I got to go! I still have storage to do in the apartment and I have to think about two, three little things! You laughed awkwardly “H-have a nice day! See ya !”  

You walk fast to your home door, quickly open and close it after entering inside. You facepalm yourself many times, cursed you in all languages.  

“Good job, pickle brain! For a first good impression It’s a failure. He's going to think I'm an idiot and pervert as a bonus. What did is done anyway...I should focus on the coffee for now. I will find a way to apologize to him later. But first a shower is welcomed! I smell like a camel...and I'm being polite.”  

You spend the rest of the day thinking about the name of your pastries, in harmony with the theme of the coffee as well as the very name of the coffee shop. If it was easy enough for the first one, you come out empty-handed in your name search for your shop. As Lindsey says, it's not the easier part. And she's right.

***

(Well, this is the first time I write a fiction and especially an English fiction because I’m a French potato x) Sorry if my English causes headaches XD Do not hesitate to tell me what you think, I take all positive/negative/neutral opinions! This will allow me to improve my writing talent which is at the same level as my talent in drawing (0/20 in fact XD) if you want a better view of Danny aka Jed Olsen, check out @arkkosun ‘s page who allowed me to use his/her version of our Danny boy! i thank him/her again by the way! So as promised @arkkosun @sleepydaydreamz and @horror-ink here’s my first chapter! And i hope not the last 0.0″)   

[misssophiachase]

Sequel for how to save a life please

Sorry for the delay nonnie. You got it, here goes...For anyone who didn’t read part 1 you can catch it on AO3 HERE - Let me know what you think. 

In the last part Caroline showed up hungover for her first day as a surgical intern only to discover her drinking buddy and one-night-stand is none other than her attending and famed neurosurgeon, Dr Klaus Mikaelson. 

Original Synopsis from nonnie’s prompt: Caroline as Meredith Grey and Klaus as Derek Shepherd.

How to Save a Life - part 2

Monday 6am

“I’m going to kill him,” she growled, holding her syringe precariously so it looked like she was cocking a firearm instead. 

It had been a twenty-eight hour shift so far and she decided to blame it on that if they decided to report her for malpractice or for ‘accidentally’ killing an attending. 

“Easy, tiger,” Kol offered, lowering her arm in the process. “I’m only an intern but maybe we should be conserving the life saving drugs for the actual patients. You know, just a thought.”

“Cute,” she drawled by way of response. Caroline wasn’t hungover this time, which was definitely a bonus, but it didn’t stop Doctor know-it-all from sharing his opinion more than a few times throughout her never-ending shift. 

“No Dr Forbes, not that way Dr Forbes, listen carefully Dr Forbes,” he’d chide, except he sounded so sexy and authoritative when he called her Dr Forbes. And that was every shift, not just this one. If he didn’t have such a pretty face, she’d most likely slap him, even if it was frowned upon in the workplace. 

“Trust me, I’ve been in your position too many times to count and letting him get to you is not the way to handle things,” Kol broke into her Klaus Mikaelson trance, which was probably a good thing. 

But then his words caught her attention. Too many times to count? It was only day nine. What exactly had Kol done to earn his wrath in that short amount of time?

Caroline looked at him curiously, besides his first name she didn’t know much about her fellow intern, except the fact he liked to talk a lot when most people weren’t interested in hearing what he had to say. He’d also taken an instant liking to Bonnie which definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“Who are you?”

“Just your friendly, fellow intern who has impeccable hygiene,” he offered, sending her his most dazzling smile. “And while we’re on the topic.”

“Of you having impeccable hygiene?”

“Yes,” he answered. Caroline, meanwhile, still had no idea where this was going. She consulted her watch to hurry him up given she knew how much he liked to talk. “I understand you have a room for rent and I happen to be looking for a place to stay.” 

Obviously word of her mom’s large house had made the rounds. Yes, she’d been looking for a third roommate but didn’t expect it to be Kol. Given both Bonnie and Kat were living in her upstairs bedrooms, Caroline wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. 

“Kol, now’s not the best time...”

“I can pay you three months of rent in advance and my share of the utilities?”

Now, that proposal caught her attention. Caroline needed money and fast.  But at the same time who was this guy? And why did he have so much money to spare? Most of them were struggling to get by given the hefty school loans they had to repay.  

Which brought her back to his proposal and how much she needed it. She’d just have to explain to Kat and Bonnie that she had no choice and surely they’d understand her dilemma. Well, hopefully. 

“Okay, fine,” she relented. “But we’ll do it on a trial basis. Four weeks and, if that hygiene isn’t anything short of spectacular I’ll be kicking you out much sooner.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted. Caroline figured most responsible people would interview someone and at least get one reference but she was far too distracted by the attending to focus on proper process. 

As if on cue, Enzo was already bellowing at them from down the hall to get their asses into gear. Caroline wondered just what the patients must think of the spectacle. 

“Hang on, what’s your last name?” She asked, thinking she should probably know that if they were going to be living together, but he was already making his way dutifully towards the sound of the dictator’s voice. 

She’d get to the bottom of that once her shift was over. As well as drinking a much-needed glass of wine or six, her memories of that recent hangover after doing the nasty with the overbearing attending well and truly forgotten. 

Until next time, of course. 

“Nice of you to join us, Forbes,” he barked. “Dr Mikaelson has requested you join him at MRI.”

“Me?”

“I don’t think anyone else goes by that name, Forbes,” he growled, emphasising her surname for added effect.

“Maybe someone else could..” she could see Bonnie and Kat trying to silence her with their eyes. She wouldn’t hear the end of this after their shift.

“If you don’t get up there right now I’ll send you to do that enema. Remember Mrs Jones from last night? You know the patient that hasn’t...” Caroline didn’t need to be told twice given just what she’d have her hands elbow deep in.   

“Took your time, Dr Forbes. I’m just glad this wasn’t an emergency.” He hadn’t even turned his head and was too busy consulting the on-screen images. 

Rather than trying to explain herself and the fact she’d run from the ground floor ER to MRI in record time she decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Professionalism and all that, even if he was an ass.

She made her way by his side, trying to ignore just how good he smelled from this close proximity. It was a problem she’d experienced too many times to count. 

“What do you see?” He asked, finally turning to look at her. 

She was momentarily caught off guard given the way those navy scrubs brought out his eyes. Caroline closed her eyes briefly reminding herself that this was too important. This was work and he was her superior. Nothing else. 

If only memories of their night together weren’t still so vivid and causing places to stir that really shouldn’t be stirring right now. Caroline was pretty certain if her mother was looking down on her right now she’d be extremely disappointed. 

But she needed to concentrate for the patient’s sake.

“There seems to be a tumour in the left hemisphere of the cerebrum,” she noted, pointing to the screen.  

“Can you tell if it is cancerous or benign?” She looked at it again closely wondering if he saw something she hadn’t, he was the neurosurgeon after all. It was too easy to second guess herself but Caroline knew she needed to own her diagnoses. 

“I can’t tell from the scan.” She really hoped that was the right answer, especially given she’d been awake over 32 hours straight. 

“So, based on that diagnosis, what is the required course of action, Dr Forbes?”

“Biopsy surgery.”

“And what does that entail?”

“Obtaining brain tissue samples to diagnose whether the tumour is cancerous or benign.”

“Good work, Dr Forbes,” he murmured. “I want you to scrub into the surgery.” Caroline looked at him incredulously. Trying to figure out if he had a motive but at the same time really hoping he didn’t. 

“You deserve this,” he murmured kindly. Not like everything she’d experienced so far in his presence. “As much as I like to give you a hard time on the floor, you are a quick learner and you work hard. But, not gonna lie, that attitude needs some work.”

“Okay,” she replied quietly thinking the attitude was probably sexual frustration but didn’t want to share that with him. “But I fully expect you to tell me when I’m not doing a good job. I happen to be a lot more resilient than you think I am.” 

“And that’s why I like you.”

Caroline decided she needed to leave the room quickly before she said or did something she might regret. Like throw her arms around him or kiss him. She was still learning how to deal with a superior she’d done the nasty with after all.

“I’ll see you in surgery,” she offered, walking out of the room, not bothering to respond or look back. She decided it was safer that way.   

9 hours later...

“My butt cheeks have gone to sleep,” Kat groaned, her head hitting the bar. “I was tasked with just watching someone and that shit hurts, let me tell you.”

“Consider yourself lucky, Pierce, have you monetarily lost your hearing due to the wailings from the patient in 3A?” Kol shot back, tipping back a whiskey for his trouble.

“No, I was too busy trying to pretend I was professional during that x-ray of someone sticking random things up his, well you know what,” Bonnie shared, albeit quietly. 

“You do realise you’re a surgeon and a doctor so anatomy is not a dirty subject...”

“Call it a professional courtesy,” she huffed. 

“I think Bon Bon here is definitely in the wrong career, just saying.”

“If I needed your opinion Kol, I’d ask for it,” she growled. 

“For the love of god, Kol,” Caroline groaned, swirling the red wine in her glass and trying not to fall into its hypnotic tendencies. “I’m barely alive here.”

“Says the girl who scrubbed into surgery today.” 

This is what Caroline was worried about, the fact her friends would think it was blatant favouritism. She didn’t sign up for that. At least they didn’t about what happened with Dr Mikaelson and for that she was grateful.  

“Yeah with Dr McYummy” 

“Who?”

“It’s what all the nurses call him,” Kat shared. “I really think it could take off hospital-wide.” 

Caroline wasn’t sure if she wanted it to and weirdly Kol seemed freaked out at the prospect too given his outraged expression. 

“Or it could be one of those things that you accidentally blurt out during surgery. Like ‘here’s the scalpel, Dr McYummy’ and that’s just asking for trouble and a demotion for being unprofessional.” 

Trust Bonnie to see the sense in it all.

“I’m with you Bonnie,” Kol offered. “Better we don’t equate any names with any of the attendings.” Seems like the two most expected to disagree had finally agreed on something. Hopefully that would soften the blow when Caroline decided to reveal they were all rooming together. 

Caroline was still trying to get her head around everything she’d done the past ten hours, glad that she had a day off before her next shift to properly focus. And to finally get some sleep. Until it happened.

“Kol!” She looked up towards the sound.

“There goes my reputation,” her fellow intern muttered. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Caroline was trying to reconcile the intrusion in her half asleep state. But when Klaus approached their table she knew things were unfolding and not in a good way. 

“And you wonder why I was so glad to move in with you,” Kol whispered before their attending appeared in all his glory. Something she wasn’t expecting and was trying to . 

“So, you two know each other?” She asked, probably against her better judgment. 

“Siblings,” Kol offered gingerly. 

“And you two?” Klaus asked, his expression telling her he was trying not to show his jealously but killing his brother wouldn’t be out of the question. 

“We live together.”

If this was supposed to feel awkward then it really did now. 

[tae-cup]

The Last Great American Dynasty | KTH Oneshot

Inspired by: Taylor Swift’s “The Last Great American Dynasty”

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Summary: A successful businessman meets a woman he never should have met.

Warnings: N/A, ANGST, but also lots of fluff!

Word Count: 5.8k (I really did get carried away with this one. And for what?)

A/N: I just got inspired-anywho, how’s everyone doing today?? Stay safe and wash your hands haha also I’m sorry about the end...

Other: Masterlist

There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything

-

-

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim!” Dozens of reporters shouted as a handsome man made his way to his car. “Mr. Kim!” When he took a second to look back at the crowd, the reporters went into a frenzy. 

“Mr. Kim! Where are you going?”

“Mr. Kim! Is it true that your marriage with Jennie is two months away?” 

“Mr. Kim!” 

And on and on it went. The flashing lights and clicking of cameras wasn’t anything new to him. Taehyung simply smiled at the questions before stepping into his car. The driver started maneuvering through the mob of people. Inside, his stomach turned, disgusted at the thought of his arranged marriage with Jennie. He wanted to choose someone for himself, shouldn’t he be allowed that? The dark haired man was off on a short trip to somewhere secluded to enjoy his freedom. Then he would return a month before the wedding. As the scenery of buildings turned to green, he leaned back. The quiet in the car was a sound he missed. 

-

-

You walked over to the next table, carefully balancing a tray of plates and drinks on one arm. The other held the order number. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun. It hadn’t been messy when you started, it had just been hectic. Now, the lunch rush was dying down and this was your last table. You expected it would be the last table all day. You lived in a small town. Everyone knew everyone. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Jung, I have your food here.” You smiled and placed the plates in front of the married couple. They gave you warm smiles and went back to their conversation. You decided you would clean up your area early and head out. After all, every day was the same. The same residents came in and out. You knew there wouldn’t be anyone coming around. 

“Hey, Jisoo, I’m gonna clean up and then clock out. Want to go to the movies later?” You called back to your pretty friend who was manning the register and finishing up some order receipts. 

“Uh, sorry, Y/N,” She responded in a distracted voice as she focused on the totals. “I have a date.” 

“Oh, right! I completely forgot. How is he?” You wiggled your eyebrows. 

“Oh...He’s alright.” She smiled sheepishly, suddenly focused on the ground. 

“Just alright? Jisoo, he’s the catch of the town. Namjoon should be blessed to be in your presence.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the register. You didn’t have much of a love life so you spent your time at home, at the diner, or wanting to know all the dirty secrets of Jisoo’s love life. Jisoo was classically beautiful. Full lips, long hair. and big eyes. It was no wonder she got the prettiest boy in town. Jisoo could have anyone in town. 

“Anyway, I’m sorry about the movies. I know you want to go see that new one.” 

“Live action Mulan can wait.” You chuckled. You walked into the back to grab a rag from the storage closet. You didn’t even hear the bell ring from the front that signaled someone entering the diner. “I mean, it’s just the most kick ass story of the 20th century and forever, am I right, Jisoo?” You found a rag and dunked it in the bucket of water nearby. Ringing it out, you started walking toward the front, damp rag in hand. “Jisoo?” 

Then you spotted what made her stop. It halted you in your tracks. 

“Oh.” You whispered to yourself. 

There stood a tall man with tan skin, beautiful full lips, and dark curly hair. Jisoo was nervously taking his order, but he didn’t seem to mind the wait. Your friend made a quick gesture under the counter. It said stop gaping you idiot. Then he looked at you. And oh, wasn’t the right word to describe your reaction. It was more like ohmygodwhoisthatwhyishesohandsomeshortcircuitinghelpme. When he shot you a small smile, you felt your heart flutter and start beating at an unusually fast pace. 

“Right this way, sir.” Jisoo hurried past you, carrying a napkin and silverware. She hadn’t expected anyone else either and had put away all the napkins and silverware. When she bumped past you, it was like the world went back to normal. You quickly went about cleaning the counters, trying to resist the urge to look at the handsome stranger a few tables away. 

He looked out the window idly as if he had all the time in the world. One hand tapped the table and he rested his chin in the other. His eyes just watched the treeline as if it could change at any moment. There was a distant look on his face. 

The bell rung at the kitchen and you jumped at the intrusion. It had been quiet. If it wasn’t for the tapping of his fingers, it would seem as if no one was there. You hurried to the back and carefully put his plate on a tray along with his drink. Then you made your way out where he sat. You didn’t want to break the lovely quiet, but you had to. 

“Hello!” You said cheerily, flashing him a winning smile. “I have your order of noodles and a coke.” You put down the plate and cool drink in front of him. 

The man watched you intently. You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned around to head back to cleaning tables. 

“What’s your name?” He said, his voice a deep rumble. 

“Ah, I’m Y/L/N Y/F/N.” You dipped your head in greeting, turning to face him again. 

“I’m Kim Taehyung.” His mouth twitched into a smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

Before you could go back again, he spoke, “Do you live here, in this town?” 

“Yes, sir.” You responded politely. 

“Here, come sit with me. I want to know more about this town.” He patted the seat next to him. You looked at him with hesitation. Finally, you found the courage to move forward. Instead of sitting beside him, you slid onto the seat across from him in the booth. 

“You’re new around here.” You pointed out, feeling dumb. Of course he’s not from around here.

“What gave it away?” He chuckled. You felt your tense shoulders relaxing. Taehyung was devilishly handsome. The name was familiar to you, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. 

“The suit. The car.” You gestured outside to the porsche. “Plus, I don’t recognize you and everyone knows everyone here.” You explained. 

The dark haired man looked pleased at your observations. “Tell me more about this town.” 

“Oh, okay, well, it used to be a mining and trading town. Settlers came from all over to find gold and trade silk.” You listed the history you remembered from your class. “But then we ran out and...” You sighed, thinking of the sad history of your dead beat town. “...and everyone left. My family stayed. We’ve been here since the beginning. I’ve always wanted to leave this place.” You whispered the last part. 

Then you turned to him, surprised as if just seeing him there. Did you just really pour out your thoughts with no filter to a stranger? He made you feel comfortable. He didn’t seem to judge you. You remembered the first person you told about wanting to leave. Your older sister had practically sobbed how unfair it would be if you left and not her. How you had to stay because it was family tradition. How you’d break your parents’ hearts. 

Well now your mother was dead, your father never home, and you had no college education. That didn’t stop you from trying and you were in no way stupid. You just didn’t have the means to get out of this town. Your sister had health complications and you felt obligated to stay. You were only 20. 

“I know how you feel.” Taehyung’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. “I wanted to get away from my life for a while. That’s why I’m here.” 

You tilted your head, taking in his words. What was so bad in his life that he needed to escape to the middle of nowhere? 

“I hope you can find something important in this town, then.” Your voice was tired. People came and went, but no one ever stayed. 

“Yes...hopefully.” When he looked at you, there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. 

He was fascinated by you. You didn’t ask too many questions and he was having a genuine conversation with someone for the first time in...years. I miss this. He thought to himself. 

“What do you do for work?” You asked, genuine curiosity tingeing your voice. You couldn’t help wondering about the newcomer in town. 

“Business.” He replied vaguely. You had a feeling he didn’t want you to pry, so you switched subjects. 

“This place used to be busy, you know?” You began. He looked at you, encouraging you to continue so you did. “I mean, when I was in high school I would have to try not to run into people at the shopping center.” You shook your head slightly at the memory. “Now I have trouble finding people.” 

“Where did everyone go?” 

The words struck a chord in you. You’d had those words ringing in your head since you graduated high school. It was lonely in this town. Your sister was in the hospital miles outside of town and your friends were merely ghosts besides Jisoo. He must have sense the atmosphere changed as he cleared his throat. Your eyes darted around his face, looking for any ulterior motives. Once deciding there were none, you sighed and gave in to the question. 

“I’m not entirely sure. Jisoo and I don’t talk about it usually.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “But I think everyone left as fast as possible once high school ended and no one bothered looking back. This town will just be ghosts in a few years.” You admitted, clasping your hands together on the table. The thought of this town dying so easily always made you feel a tad emotional. You gave up your future for this. 

He nodded along. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s what happened to my town.” 

That caught you off guard. Your expression must have said exactly that because he continued.

“I came from a small town just like this one. I guess this place gives me nostalgia. Now I live in Seoul. I was one of those teens who left and never came back. But I went to visit a few years ago and I knew there was nothing left for me in that town.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but it clearly still bothered him. You found yourself placing a hand on his and giving it a quit squeeze. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You peered into his dark gaze. His breath hitched. Then he looked away, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Well, the past is past.” It barely came out as a whisper. You quickly withdrew your hand, realizing how intimate it seemed. You supposed you were just used to that kind of intimacy living in such a small town. 

“Achem, right. Well, I have to close up.” You excused yourself and slid out of the booth. Golden rays of sunlight painted the diner in a soft hue. His face practically glowed in this lighting. 

“Of course, of course.” He murmured, suddenly distant again. His eyes watched the trees that now cast long shadows on the road. 

You hurried to grab the long forgotten rag and started scrubbing at the counters. Jisoo looked at you, an amused grin on her face. You knew instantly that she’d seen the entire thing. 

“I see you two are getting along.” She teased. 

“Oh shush.” You huffed, heat crawling up your face. 

“Come on, Y/N, would it be so terrible to fall in love and leave this town? When Namjoon feels ready, he said he’d be willing to leave as well.” She said. Your head whipped around to face her. 

“W-what?” 

Her gaze softened at you. She came over and put a hand on your shoulder. “I’d never leave you behind here, but please at least consider it.” You tore your body away in disgust. 

“Jisoo, You know I can’t just up and leave, even if I did find someone. I have to look after Lisa and make sure my father isn’t dead by the side of the road every night.” You hissed. 

“I know-”

You two were cut off by a sudden presence. Taehyung placed the money owed on the table and smoothed out his suit. He dipped his head to the both of you. 

“Thank you, Jisoo, Y/N.” He said politely. 

The way your name sounded on his tongue made you shiver. Your conversation was abruptly halted and you felt tongue-tied, all anger forgotten. 

“Y/N, care to go to the movies with me sometime this week?” He casually stated, shaking you from your stupor. You pointed bleakly at yourself while mouthing me? He smiled softly at your confusion. 

“Y-Yes, I’d love to.” Your shock came across. He loved the open display of emotions on your face, on everyone around here. It was so unlike the poker face everyone gave him in the business world. 

“Does...does Friday work?” You asked cautiously. Jisoo looked between the two of you, a smirk on her face. 

“I’ll do whatever works best for you, I have an open schedule.” 

“Great, then how about I meet you after my shift on Friday. I finish up at 6 P.M. then.” You said, your voice not quite timid, but not quite sure either. 

“Sounds great.” He then turned and left. Taehyung found himself smiling at the obvious nervousness on your face. He found your face invading his mind as he got into the car. You were an open book and he wanted to read everything he could. 

-

-

“Hey, I’m clocking out early!” You called to Jisoo. It had been four days since your mini fight with her and you two acted as if it didn’t happen. Jisoo just smiled as you grabbed your car keys and raced out the glass front door. 

“Have fun!” She shouted at you, hoping you heard her. You had only lied a little when you said your shift ended at 6 P.M. You actually got off around 5:30 P.M., but you decided to leave at 5 instead to get ready for your date. 

Was it a date? Some part of you hoped it was. Taehyung had shown up every day for lunch since that Monday. Then after the rush was over, you would sit and talk with him or you would clean tables and talk. You hadn’t found someone who matched your speed of dialogue since forever. Jisoo was alright, but she usually gushed about Namjoon or about the crowds that came through. You two never went out together outside of work. 

You started up your car and soon enough you were at your apartment. It was a small one bedroom flat that was on top of the barber shop in town. Inside, there was fading paint from when you first moved in and a small kitchenette in the corner. You doubted it could even be called a kitchen. There wasn’t even an oven. You had a toaster oven, but it wasn’t fancy or anything. There was a microwave, a small fridge wedged between two small cabinets, and, thank god, a dishwasher. You hurried past the mess in the sink and towards the small room in the back. The bedroom held a queen sized bed, you had insisted, and that left hardly any space. After a shower, you surveyed your options for outfits. You finally decided on a simple combination of blue jeans, a soft tan turtleneck sweater, and brown heeled boots. You brushed your hair thoroughly and pulled out your limited makeup supplies. You didn’t have much time to do anything besides be at the diner. Dates were nonexistent. 

It’s not that you thought yourself ugly, you just didn’t seem to catch anyone’s eye. You carefully applied light foundation and lip gloss. Then you attached a pair of hoop earrings to your ears. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink as you had a mini crisis. To put your hair up or not. Well, you decided to leave it down. After all, he saw you in your messy bun everyday. Your hair fell in waves a smile gracing your lips as you stared at your reflection. You had put effort into your appearance for the first time in months and...you felt pretty. Your hands unclenched themselves from the sink and now went to smooth the nonexistent wrinkles in your sweater. 

You checked the time, cursing as you realized it was almost 6 P.M. You grabbed your purse and flew out the door. Your heels clicked against the concrete stairs as you made your way downstairs. Then you saw him. 

He was leaning against his car, arms crossed as he waited for you. 

“Taehyung!” You called, waving to get his attention. His eyes flicked up to you, his face instantly lighting up at your appearance. 

“Y/N! You look stunning.” He complimented. It was true. Even in your waitress outfit you were stunning to him. Everyday he got to know you more and he was completely infatuated with you. He stepped to the side and opened the passenger door, holding your hand and helping you in. You chuckled at his princely behavior. Or maybe this was what it was supposed to be like? The last boy you tried with was in high school and he had been far from dashing or a prince charming. Very unlike Taehyung. 

“You look quite ravishing yourself.” You said teasingly. He shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. 

“Now, uh, I don’t actually know where the movie theater is.” He confessed, turning to you with a hesitant smile. You couldn’t help but giggle. The drive was then spent giving him directions to the movie theater which was on the outskirts of town. When he asked why, you shrugged and claimed it was the only building available at the time. 

As he pulled into the small parking lot of the theater, he glanced at your form beside him. You were looking out the window, no doubt surveying surroundings you’ve seen most of your life. 

“How’s your sister?” He asked gently. You let out a deep breath. Ever since you’d admitted your situation to him, he’d been careful about the subject. Maybe it was a downer, but you never spoke of your sister. 

In all honesty, you loved your sister, but you also held a certain anger toward her. You tense, at his question. Then you turned to him. He killed the engine and you sat in darkness and silence. The moon shone overhead. Your mind reeled back in time as you told him about your past visit. 

-

You opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb Lisa. She could never sleep because of the pain. No one could figure out what was wrong with her. One day she just woke up with an unbearable pain and it spread throughout her body. When the doctors told you she was sleeping, you almost wanted to turn back around, not wanting to wake her, but they insisted that she would be happy you came. 

So now you sat next to her, holding her hand. Her eyes blinked open, but they didn’t register your presence. 

“Lisa, I’m here, your little sister is here.” You whispered, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. “I miss you. I miss your smile. I won’t leave this town until you can leave with me. I’ve been...I’ve been saving money. Once you’re better you and I can get out of here.” You gripped her hand. “But you just got to get better before that. We can leave and never look back.” 

There was no response. She didn’t even stir. You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

“You know, I’m still so angry with you. You forced me to stay here with you, then you left me.” Your voice broke. You were sure she couldn’t even hear you. “But, Lisa, please don’t leave me here alone.” you started sobbing. “Who will I be?” 

You swiped at your eyes, still not letting go of her hand. “I’m sorry I’m being so selfish right now. I love you so much. Just keep fighting.” You felt tired, your body was heavy. There was the smallest twitch of her hand in yours. It would be imperceptible to most people, but you felt it. You gasped and stood, leaning over her glossy eyes. “Lisa! Lisa can you hear me? I felt your-I felt your hand move. I know you can hear me. I love you, you have to know that. It doesn’t matter if I’m mad at you or who I’ll be, because I’m no one without you. I’ll always love you.” 

You watched, looking for a sign of movement. But there was none. Just the quiet beeping of the heart monitor. 

-

You repeated the event, stopping before your long monologue. “So basically, she moved. I felt it. But she didn’t after that.” You frowned. “Sorry, this is too depressing for a first date.”

He held a hand up, looking guilty. “No, no, I asked the question, so...” Then he smiled widely. “And this is a date?” He was just messing with you. Of course he knew this was a date, but he loved watching you flush a deep red. 

“I-I mean it doesn’t have to be!” You stuttered out nervously. “I just thought, you know, because movies, and and and-” You rambled. 

“Do you want it to be?” He tilted his head slightly, leaning across the barrier between you two. A few inches and his lips could be on yours. 

“Yes.” You breathed softly. You wanted to desperately close the distance, even he seemed to falter for a moment. He took note of the distance and then the look in your eye. His gaze flickered to your lips and you thought he just might lean in to kiss you, but he pulled away with a smirk instead. You felt your heart drop and then flutter. 

“Then it is.” He opened the door and went around to help you out. You were still shocked. What just happened? Taehyung was a mystery to you. You stepped out of the car, trying to stop your legs from shaking. You were nervous, but you hoped he would think it was because of the cold. Before you could take another step, he took your hand in his and led the way. You felt your heart stop and your cheeks flushed red once again. Why couldn’t you get your act together around him? He made you feel both comfortable and nervous. 

You followed behind him as he went up to the ticket booth. A very bored looking teenage boy who looked to be asleep. Taehyung dropped your hand and you instantly missed his warmth as he pulled out his wallet. 

“Two, please, for Mulan.” He said to the ticket boy. The boy nodded lazily, pulling out two tickets. As he went to pay you suddenly shot your hand out. 

“Wait, I can pay for my ticket.” You said hurriedly. You didn’t want him paying for you because you always felt bad when people paid for your things. It made you feel guilty. 

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I know, but Tae, I just feel guilty otherwise.” Tae. The name had slipped out of your mouth before you could even think. His gaze softened and he nodded, understanding your words.

“Okay.” He relented. “How about I pay for the tickets and you pay for concessions?” He spoke like a businessman. Then you remembered that he was a businessman. He must have caught his tone as well. It was a tone he used when bargaining with clients and partners. There was a certain kindness to it, but also something that said and that’s that. 

You nodded furiously to his suggestion and he shot you a smile before turning around and paying. Once inside, you ordered a large popcorn and a soda. Taehyung ordered a soda. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” You questioned. 

“No, it’s okay.” He said, placing his hands in his pockets. 

“How much were the tickets?” You narrowed your eyes. 

“$18. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“But Tae, This all only adds up to $15.” You gestured to the sodas and popcorn. Concessions in a small town will always be cheap. 

“And?”

“I’m not really holding up my end of the deal.” You protested. He sighed. 

“Y/N, it’s three dollars.” Taehyung held your soda as you handed it to him to find your wallet. 

“I know, I just,” You bit your lip and dug out $15, placing it on the counter before turning back around. “You know how I am.” 

You took back your drink and placed the popcorn under your arm as you made your way into the theater. There was...quite literally no one there except you two. It made you feel nervous, not because of him, but because of what he did to you without realizing it. He made your heart race, your legs shake, and you couldn’t get him out of your head. What would happen in a darkened room with just the two of you? 

Well, nothing really happened. The movie started up and you both seemed very intent on watching it, though about half way through, his arm went around your shoulder. And now you could no long focus on the movie. You could only focus on his warm arm around you and how you wanted it to stay there. You barely moved, worried he might move his arm then. Taehyung looked focused on the movie, but little did you know that he snuck glances at you when you weren’t looking at him. Yes, he wasn’t an idiot, he could feel you gawking at him. He found it endearing. He was honestly surprised you still hadn’t figured out who he was. Maybe tales of billionaire CEOs didn’t make it this far. Then he remembered his tale involved an arranged marriage to a woman that would not be you. He stiffened thinking of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Jennie was lovely, no, he had met her, she seemed fine, but he felt she would always regard him as a business partner. You talked to him like a normal person. What happens when she finds out? He thought to himself. 

Taehyung could feel the movie was ending soon. So he took a moment to study you once more, your face illuminated by the screen. You happened to look towards him as well. Your eyes connected and it felt like time stopped. You could get lost in those eyes. He leaned forward. 

“ Y/N.” He breathed, voice deep and husky. 

“Yes?” You whispered, leaning in as well. 

“You’re absolutely stunning.” He murmured. Then you closed the small space between you and him. Your lips moved against him, needy and soft. You stood from your seat moving to straddle him. 

“Tae.” You moaned against his lips. His hands placed themselves on your hips, keeping you in place. When you broke away, he had this devilish grin on his face. 

“Be mine, Y/N.” 

That took you off guard. Yes, he was an excellent kisser, but you felt like you barely knew him. He must have seen doubt flash across your face because he carefully placed a kiss on your cheek. 

“Please?” His lips moved against your skin. You found yourself pulling away. no matter how much you longed for his lips. 

“I barely know you.” You muttered. “Tell me one truthful thing about you.” You looked at him with doubt in your eyes. 

His smile seemed forced. “Alright. I’m Kim Taehyung. The billionaire CEO to Bangtan Inc.” 

Your face became pale. You had heard his name before. You remembered him from somewhere. You could have easily fallen in love with him, but how had he kept this secret from you? You could understand it in the beginning, but you had gotten to know him so well. He knew everything about your life, you knew nothing about his. You were strangers. You jumped up, smoothing down your rumpled sweater. Panic raced through your veins. What had you done? You weren’t supposed to be anyone and you didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal. You found yourself rushing out the door. That’s the thing with everyone in your family. When you have a conflict, you run. The only constant in your life had been this goddamn town. 

“Y/N wait!” He ran after you. He grasped your wrist, halting you. No man had ever run after you once you’d run away. “You asked me, a long time ago, that you hoped I found something important here. Well, I did. I found you.” He breathed. The sight of his lips so close to yours drove you crazy. You craved his touch, despite your better judgement. 

“So what? You make out with me once and think I’ll be yours? I didn’t even know you were a billionaire, not that that changes anything, but Tae, jesus, this was important information. It’s terrifying how easily you hid it from me. What other things do I not know?” Then you remembered where you heard his name before and you felt your stomach drop. He stopped himself from moving towards you, know you had just realized what he didn’t want you to. You remembered him as the title of an article. An article that talks about his new fiance. You felt sick. You wanted to get his touch off your skin, wipe his kiss from your lips. “You’re engaged.”

His face instantly dropped. “No, Y/N, I don’t want to be engaged with her, it’s arranged.” He pleaded, trying to explain. 

“That doesn’t change anything! You may not like it, but you need to be faithful to her!” You were keeping yourself from hyperventilating. “I refuse to be a homewrecker. I’m just some girl from a ghost town.” You turned around, ripping your arm from his grasp and crossing your arms as you walked away down the street. Your head bent down, heels clicking on the pavement, as you tried not to cry. “Please just forget about me and go back home to your fiance.”

“You make me feel normal. Please, I don’t love her, Y/N.”

“And you think I love you?!” You practically screeched before sprinting away as fast as possible in your boots. 

-

-

There was a soft knock on your door. Your apartment was dark save for the TV which was currently airing the wedding preparations for Kim Taehyung and Kim Jennie. You felt your heart falter seeing his face for the first time in a while. He looked so unhappy, but you shooed away the possibility that it was about you. You couldn’t get him out of your mind and it only became harder every day. 

“Go away!” You said hoarsely, pulling another tissue out for your unending stream of tears. You still couldn’t believe that had happened to you. 

“It’s me, Jisoo. I just wanted to know if you’re coming for your shift today? It’s okay if you’re not, I understand it’s hard.” Jisoo had been extraordinarily kind to you since the incident and she had no reason to be. “I tried to text, but you’re not answering your phone.” 

You checked your phone. Indeed, there were three missed calls and a couple texts from her all dated to an hour ago. 

“Ah, Sorry, Jisoo.” You called, slowly getting up and opening the door a crack. “I don’t think I have the strength.” You admitted weakly. You felt like you had no strength. Like when Taehyung left, he took a huge chunk of you with him. 

“Listen, Y/N.” She gently peered into your face, studying your tear streaked cheeks. “There’s someone you might want to see. He’s at the diner.” 

Your heart stopped and you knew it must be him. You slowly nodded. “I’ll be there.”

-

-

It was busy, as always. At least with the crowds you could keep your mind off of who you were really waiting to see come through that door. As you helped the last customer of the rush out the door, you spotted a familiar black porsche pull up. You felt your breath quicken and your eyes stayed locked on the car. The man you had been waiting to see stepped out and it almost broke your heart all over again. He made eye contact with you and you could tell he was just as shocked. He visibly stiffened, eyes widening. You felt tears brimming, threatening to pour out. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. You wish you had. Those eyes, like galaxies and pools of obsidian you could get lost in, turned and opened the passenger door. 

And out came a beautiful woman you could only guess was Jennie. You were moving before you could even think. You threw down the menus in your hand, eyes flicking over to the booth he used to sit at, and pulled your hair out of your bun. Without saying anything to Jisoo, you ran out the back door. You could hear two people calling your name. Jisoo. And Taehyung. 

You rushed out the back door, hyperventilating. Those eyes, those hands, that mouth. You couldn’t bear to see them again. He made you fall in love with him and then he left. 

“Y/N!” That deep voice had the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. 

“Taehyung.” Your voice sounded weak and bitter. 

“Long time no see.” He offered painfully. 

“A long time indeed.” You whispered, facing him full on. He was just as handsome as you remembered him to be a few months ago. His eyes peered into yours, trying to convey a million words. I need you. I miss you. I love you. And you felt that piercing stare. 

“Tae, I never told you but-” You were cut off by another female voice. Her tone was laced with concern, but her eyes looked suspiciously between you and Taehyung. 

“Tae.” She said sweetly. “What’s wrong?” Then she turned to fully take you in. “And who’s this?” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 

Taehyung looked at you, then his gaze flickered over to Jennie. “She’s no one important, Love.” He turned and grabbed her hand, dragging her back into the store and breaking you in two once more. 

There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been?

...... She had a marvelous time ruining everything

[ragnarachael]

Joyride

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k  

Summary: You're heading back to your apartment after a game night at a friend's place when you encounter Loki for the first time since his invasion in 2012.

Author’s Ramblings: hi!! this is my entry for @gingerwritess​ writing challenge! congrats on 4k!!! 💖 (i hope it’s okay i’m only like 100 and some odd words past 2k,, apparently i couldn’t make it less than that for the life of me)

Warnings: talks of Shakespeare’s Coriolanus! (it’s nothing too graphic, if i’m being honest. and yes, blame National Theatre Live for this), reader is kinda hesitant in the beginning about Loki bc of the whole “take over NYC” thing. that’s really all i can think of for warnings!

LOKI TAGLIST: @sadwaywardkid​

MASTERLIST !    FEEDBACK !   AO3 LINK !

You saw him on the A Train. You noticed his lithe form when you took a minute to glance up from your book.

Him as in the one who took New York in his clutches momentarily back in 2012 while you were in the middle of a shift at the coffee shop you used to work at that was just near the main spot of action. Loki. 

It was only the two of you on this train at this time of night. You were heading back home to your apartment where your dog would most likely be sleeping on her assigned side of the bed, passed out after trying to wait up for you. Your friends hosted a game night and insisted you had come. 

And you kicked ass in Scrabble, Life—Spongebob Edition, you remembered picking Squidward as your token to play the game—and even Cluedo.

And you never won Cluedo. 

You were proud of yourself. Three wins on one game night is better than nothing. Usually, you’re a sore loser every time you’re invited over. 

It seemed like everything was going your way tonight. 

Until you caught Loki studying the cover of your book as you read. 

After you finished your last book on the train on the way to work, you decided to shove your worn copy of Coriolanus in place and never bothered to take it out. So naturally, that was your reading material of choice tonight as you waited for the final stop. 

“May I help you?” You questioned, glancing up at the God that sat across from you. When he didn’t reply, you tried to direct your attention back to the book pages, rereading the huge section you had just skipped over 

You heard him shift, which made you look up at him again. However this time, you maintained eye contact. 

What do you say when a murderer is looking at your book late at night on your train back home? You didn’t want to end up dead by the end of this interaction. You had a life to carry on with. Manuscripts to finish, your dog to take care of, your parents to mildly ignore when they tell you how you should be living. 

Not dead on the A Train after being slain by Loki, the God of Mischief. 

He seemed like he was in a trance when he apologized quietly.

That was... odd. 

“I.. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice the author’s name on the cover of your book,” he spoke up, finally leaning back on the seat as the train started to go in the direction of the third to last stop for the night. “Shakespeare, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Yes,” you said hesitantly, fighting the urge to look at the cover yourself to make sure that it was Shakespeare, even though you knew exactly what it was. “Another tragedy.”

“May I ask which? The title seems to be scratched off.”

You could feel your face heating up at his words. He noticed that? Now that you thought about it, it made sense that he was staring so long for the title.

“It’s uh, Coriolanus. Roman soldiers and stuff. Right up your alley if you think about it,” you said, your eyes darting back to the pages you were permanently stuck on. You didn’t want to see his reaction when he figured out you knew him. 

Loki seemed stunned at your reply for assuming such. It’s not like you had been wrong. You did some research on Asgard a while after 2012 and learned a thing or two about their politics. 

Quite Roman-esque in your unprofessional opinion. 

He seemed to mull it over for a moment before letting a chuckle out. “It appears you may be right, darling.”

Darling. 

That made chills run up your spine. Not... not in a bad way, though. You wouldn’t mind him calling you that again, as a matter of fact.

The conversation was cut by the screeching breaks of the train. You both braced yourselves in your seats so you didn’t slide with gravity as the train finally got to a stop, reaching the third to last station. 

The doors opened for no one, and waited. 

There was some sort of silence you couldn’t decipher as the doors waited for no one to arrive. You turned the page to your book, pretending to be reading. Your mind was still replaying the words Loki said. 

Mainly darling, but that's besides the point. 

Eventually, the doors closed and the train was back to moving. Loki was back to looking at your book cover, and you actually got pulled back into the script.

Until you were interrupted again. 

“Why is your copy in such poor quality?”

Loki’s voice was like velvet as he started to take interest in you again. 

“I’ve had it for a long, long time.”

That answer seemed enough for him. You started to reread a line of Volumnia’s when he continued speaking. 

“Could you tell me more about it?”

You wanted to hold yourself back, you really did. Maybe he had some kind of motive to do something bad? You don’t know if he’s turned good. He could still be the same man he was in 2012.  Regardless of your thoughts running wild, you awkwardly scooted a bit subconsciously to make more room for Loki to sit next to you. That’s when you knew it was game over. 

You told him about the plot in deep, deep detail. You spoke about each character as if you had written this play yourself. It was, after all, one of your favorites that you’ve been reading since your senior year of high school. 

Loki sat and listened intently, drinking in your unabashed excitement as you recounted everything that happens in this play; it was as if you had actually been in Rome when the play was set. 

He found it endearing. Most mortals were not passionate like you were about literature—or anything period. But, on the other hand, Loki hadn’t talked to many mortals since his deal with the Avengers granted him his freedom. 

Another thing he found interesting, he could listen to you talk about Shakespeare for hours. 

Loki had only read some of the cliché plays that were written. Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Twelfth Night. They all grasped his attention and he read them thoroughly when he had the time. But there seemed that in this moment, there was nothing quite like Shakespeare’s Coriolanus.

The train ride was less excruciating once you were talking. You found that Loki was actually well educated and not as much of an asshole as he seemed. Loki found you even more attractive than he had when he stepped into the train car. 

You were in the middle of passionately explaining Volumnia’s relationship with her son when the train came to a stop again, announcing the last stop. 

Neither you or Loki wanted this to end. 

“I—I’d love to keep going,” you started, suddenly realizing you spent so much time speaking, “but this is my stop.”

The usual dialogue came from the speakers as the doors wheezed open. Loki stood up from his seat with you as you gathered your things, your book in hand. 

“I fear this may be too forward,” he started, suddenly feeling nervous. “But may I walk you home?”

Never in your years of living did you expect to be asked by the man who took New York in his clutches to be walked home in the dead of night.

And never did you think you’d say yes. 

The two of you fell in step as you walked out of the subway car, silent as you took in the emptiness of the subway station. 

It was peaceful. A small part of the city that somewhat slept. You realized that you were less tense than when you started this journey, and smiled small as both you and Loki took the steps two at a time to reach the surface. 

Both of you made it onto the sidewalk before you realized something.

“You know,” you started carefully once your bag was secured on your back, “you don’t need to walk me back. I’m sure you have a curfew or... or something—“

“Darling, I assure you, I’m not needed back at the tower.” Loki gripped your hand gently to pull you to a full stop on the sidewalk now. “I’d much rather hear your passion for this work than hear my brother drone on about his lover.”

For some reason, that confession combined with his touch made your breath hitch. His hand felt as if it wasn’t warm, but not cold either. It was like the perfect temperature. 

Suddenly your mind wondered what it would feel like to be held in his arms. You were quick to wipe away that thought by blinking up at Loki, furrowing your brows together. 

“Are you sure? Sounds much more invigorating, hearing about someone’s dating life rather than being told about a Roman soldier in depth.”

“I am positive,” Loki chuckled in reply. “Your knowledge on this play is far better than any mortal’s. Almost as if you had studied with the Bard himself.”

You felt your face heat up from the compliment, and decided to keep your hand locked in his as you started to walk down the sidewalk again. 

“Flattering gets you nowhere, Loki.”

“I’m merely speaking the truth!” His voice sounded like he was accused of something like a child. This made you laugh. You just shook your head to dismiss the subject 

“So, back to Volumnia and how she’d rather her son die in battle than live a life of shame?”

“Please. I’m all ears.”

The walk back to your apartment was quicker than you expected as you broke down the rest of the play. And for once, you didn’t want to sleep. You wanted to stay up and keep talking to Loki. You didn’t care about the time or the place, you wanted to keep talking. 

Even if you’ve exhausted your extensive knowledge on this play. 

You and Loki stood in front of your apartment building, laughing at a small joke you had made about Caius Marcius yearning to fight Aufidius during an important meeting. 

The blanket of silence between you two was comfortable. You noticed Loki’s gaze seemed soft. Almost... loving. You tried to ignore it, but he seemed so smitten in this moment. The moonlight hit his face just right which made you swoon internally when you saw just how handsome he could be in the different lighting of the night.

“I really should get going,” you sighed, letting the heel of your hand gently rub at your eye. “I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Loki shifted his weight on his feet, seeming just as dejected as you. It was nice knowing you both didn’t want this night to end. 

“I’d like to see you again, if that—“

“Yes,” you cut him off instantly, looking up into his eyes. It was like a trance. You admittedly loved every second of it. 

He chuckled at your sudden response. Minutes, maybe even hours ago, you two had wanted nothing to do with each other.

And yet here you both stood, smitten in conversation, dancing around the harsh reality that you’d have to carry on with your lives after you stopped talking. 

You licked your dry lips slowly, a smile settling across your features before repeating yourself again. “Yes please.”

Loki smiled back at you before nodding. Neither of you knew what to do from here. It seemed as though goodbyes weren’t your forte. 

You fumbled for a moment, almost as if you were getting your keys from your bag.

Which you were doing, Loki realized. Getting your keys. And a pen, it seemed. You were quick to bite the plastic cap off before opening to the first page in your copy of Coriolanus and writing. 

Loki tried to see what you had written, but you were far too fast. By the time he tried to get a closer look, you were done writing and capped the pen before closing the book and passing it over to him.

“A reason to see me again.” 

You sounded breathless, as if you had just ran into him on the street and dropped everything onto the ground. Loki felt his heart speed up momentarily before taking the book carefully. 

“I already had a reason, darling.” Loki’s smile knocked the breath right out of you before he stepped a little closer to get in your personal space, reaching for one of your hands. You weren’t sure as to what he was doing until his long, gentle fingers were grabbing your own and lifted it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

You were blushing. You were certain of it. 

You said your final goodnights for the night, Loki patiently waiting until you were in the lobby of the building to actually take his leave with your book.