#[ but PR seems a bit quiet now D: ]

[bbgem329]

Things Are Never As They Seem… Chapter Nineteen

Pairings—Sebastian Stan x Actress!Reader, Sebastian Stan x OFC (PR relationship)

Summary

You and Sebastian Stan have been dating privately for over two years. Everything is perfect until he is coerced into a PR relationship when he signed with a new agency to advance his career. Trouble ensues…

Warnings

MINORS DNI!! 18++. Language. Angst. Dark side of Hollywood. PR relationships/stunts. Fluff. Long distance relationships.

Series Masterlist

—————

March 7, 2021

“I’m really glad you could come with me, at least for a little bit.” You glanced back at Hope, your personal trainer, as you pushed open the door and stepped out onto the street, “No one motivates me like you do.”

Hope flashes you a big smile, looping her arm through yours, “You know I’m always down for a trip and,” She tips her head back, soaking up the sun shining down on the pair of you as you walk down the fairly quiet street, “the weather here is so much better than in New York right now.”

You had to admit she was right. You didn’t very much like Los Angeles. You found it stuffy, overpriced, and overhyped but the weather was nice. Especially in comparison to March in New York.

“I don’t know about you, but I could always use a little extra vitamin D.”

You snorted, “That’s the real reason I invited you to come along. I was worried you were going to shrivel up all pale and cold.” You paused, trying to fight back a smile. “I know how sensitive you ar-”

She gave you a little shove causing you to stumble away with a laugh but it all came to halt when you laid eyes on a few people standing across the street, cameras pointed directly at you.

“Fuck.” You slide one strap of your tote bag off your shoulder, furiously digging for your sunglasses. You did not need to be seen right now, all sweaty and gross after a really tough pilates class. Not to mention the bags under your eyes from your late flight last night.

You were not ready for a pap walk today.

And you knew exactly who was behind the tip off.

“Is that paps?” Hope asked, eyes squinting and straining in the sun as you got closer, “What the actual fuck are they doing here?”

“I don’t know.” You hissed, crossing your arms over your chest and keeping your head down as you picked up the pace, “Ella probably called them. She told me I needed to do a walk soon–to be seen, out and about. But I thought she’d at least warn me.”

“What’s up with her lately?” She made a face, sliding her own sunglasses down on over her honey eyes, “You mentioned she was acting off.”

You appreciated how casual Hope was about it and how she kept her voice down. She was a very well known trainer and did a lot of work with even bigger celebrities than you so she was more than used to this side of Hollywood–the fake, staged side.

Someone called your name, and you made the mistake of looking up.

“How was pilates?”

“What are you doing here in LA, preparing for your project with Pedro Pascal?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Hope, is she your favorite client?”

You could barely think over all the questions, the shouting, and the clicks of the camera.

There was no doubt you were in for quite a scolding tonight from Ella. You never could get it right when it came to pap walks and she’s been on your ass even more lately. What for, you weren’t sure.

If she would have just told you about the tip off, then maybe you could have posed yourself better or acted accordingly.

Pap walks were always a hassle and even more uncomfortable.

If you smiled and waved, you were viewed as fame hungry and attention seeking.

If you looked away and tried to hide your face, people might think you were too cocky and that you definitely had a superior complex.

You could never win.

You didn’t even know why people bothered with pap walks these days, everyone damn well knew they had to be called. There were rules set in place to protect people from being harassed and stalked. It wasn’t like the olden days anymore. Celebrities are seen when they want to be seen.

Except for you apparently.

But not everyone had a manager like yours.

Hope being the genius she is, grabbed your wrist and dipped around the corner. You took off in a sprint, dipping into the nearest shop. Which just so happened to be some sort of smoothie cafe.

“Let's give it at least twenty minutes,” You let out a deep breath as you stepped up to the counter, “Order whatever, it’s on me.”

You both ordered large smoothie bowls and some sort of healthy juice. You weren’t sure what it was but it made Hope squeal a little so you thought you’d give it a try. Thankfully, the cafe was mostly empty, only a few stragglers sitting around with their noses buried in a book or a laptop. You picked a small booth tucked in the back corner and Hope slid in across from you with a content sigh.

“Have you talked to her?”

“Who?” You set your elbows on the table, leaning forward in your seat, “Ella?”

She laughed, “Who else?”

You shrugged, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, “Not really. She seems busy. Always keeps our calls short and sweet. I think she’s just a little pissed off that I didn't pick up a project between the last one and the one I have coming up but,” You tossed your hands up, slouching back defeatedly in your seat, “Can you blame me? I mean, yes COVID sucked but I am in a great position with my career. I’m finally starting to choose roles and my image is great. I just wanted a month off to take my future mother-in-law on vacation. She’s been alone a lot lately and I wanted to do this for both her and Sebastian.”

“Here you go.” You smiled at the young waitress as she set your strawberry, mango smoothie bowl in front of you and some fancy looking green juice, “Everything look okay?”

“More than okay!” You beamed, “Thank you!”

You turned your attention back to Hope, scrunching your nose at her before shoveling a big scoop of banana, smoothie, and granola into your mouth.

“I don’t blame you for wanting a break.” Hope spoke up, hand over her mouth as she finished swallowing her own bite, “In fact, I don’t know what project she expected you to do. A month and a half isn’t enough time to make a movie, let alone a show.”

“I think she wanted me to do some modeling or something,” You made your face, shaking your head, “Which we all know I don’t particularly like doing.”

“Unless it’s for a good cause or with good reason.”

You snap your fingers and point at her, “Exactly.”

“Give it a little bit.” She suggested softly with a small shrug of her shoulders, “I’m sure once your next project starts she’ll come around.”

You forced a smile, “Hopefully.”

You fell into a comfortable silence, finishing up your bowls and drinking your drinks, making small conversation here and there. You both must’ve been hungry because you were done within minutes.

You let out a content sigh, collecting the dishes to make a neat pile for the bussers at the end of the booth, “I’m really, really glad you’re here with me. I hate coming to LA alone.”

“I’m happy to be here.” Hope beamed, reaching across the table to give your hands a squeeze, “Besides I really missed you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know.” You jutted your bottom lip out in a small pout, “Tell me everything. Anything new?”

“Not really.” She shrugged, slurping up the last bit of her juice, “Just work, you know how it is. You don’t know how bad I needed a get away, so thank you.” She bit her lip, pausing in obvious thought, “I might get another juice, do you want something?”

“Sure.” You chuckled, “I want to try the mango juice this time.”

“Be right back.”

While you waited for her return, you pulled out your phone to find a text from Seb.

From Smexy Seabass:

Missing you.

And we wish you were here with us <3

You smiled to yourself, opening the attached selfie of Daisy and him out to dinner. God, she was gorgeous, you couldn’t wait to meet her.

We just did our pap walk!! Fingers crossed she gets her win.

You almost forgot he agreed to do a few pap walks with Daisy for her Golden Globe Nomination. They had already done one this past weekend and they even had a few pictures of Sebastian dropping flowers off at her doorstep.

There wasn’t much she could do in Vancouver this time of year, especially while filming, for press and Sebastian was more than happy to help her out. It was sweet actually, you loved their relationship and he definitely had that protective big brother love for her.

To Smexy Seabass:

You’re both so hot.

Photoshoot go okay? Did she get anything good?

He had acquired her help as well.

Last week he was asked to do a cover with GQ but seeing as they couldn’t come to him and he couldn’t leave, they did a meeting over zoom and today they set aside time for Daisy to take some photos for him.

It was an unusual way of doing it but fun nonetheless.

COVID changed a lot of things, you hoped it wouldn’t be like this forever.

From Smexy Seabass:

It went great.

And the pap walk was off the photoshoot… So it was actually FUN.

Not even a second later, a bunch of pictures came though. Your smile grew as you scrolled through them.

“What’s got you smiling so big?”

For a second, you almost forgot where you were. You lifted your eyes just as Hope slid back into the booth, sliding a yellow, orange juice across the table too.

You smiled back down at your phone, “Sebastian had to do a photoshoot today with GQ today but it’s all virtual so Daisy had to take the picture of him. He just sent them to me.” You chuckled to yourself as you passed the phone to her, letting her look through them, “He’s such a dork.”

“He’s adorable.” She grinned, swiping through them, “You’re a lucky woman.”

“I know right.” You let out a dreamy sign, resting your chin in your hand, “He’s like a little puppy. I love him so much.”

“Speaking of puppies.” She giggled, handing you back your phone, “We should go get Bentley from the house and take a walk on the beach.”

“Oh my GOD.” You gasped, “He would love that. Let’s go now.”

To Smexy Seabass:

You look so fucking good.

I miss you so much.

ONLY a couple more weeks.

Going to take Bent to the beach. I’ll call you after.

From Smexy Seabass:

OKKKK.

Have fun. Love you so much.

Take pics, I want to see my son on his first beach trip.

You locked your phone with a smile and slid out of the booth after Hope.

It was going to be a busy couple weeks for Sebastian with TATWS airing soon and Monday the movie coming out next month. There would be lots of pap walks and lots of press but at least soon he would be with you.

For the whole summer apparently.

All of it would be worth it when he returned to you again.

March 19, 2021

You were practically bouncing in your seat, wiggling from side to side as you waited for Sebastian to pick up the phone. You had just finished the first episode of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier and you couldn’t wait to share your thoughts with him.

It was great. No better than great—it was amazing.

Sebastian never ever failed to make you fall more in love with Bucky. Each appearance he made brought out more personality, more depth to the character than before. You’d been with him since the beginning and watching him grow through this has been a gift.

Watching Bucky get his redemption arc too.

He was a huge inspiration to you.

His acting, his talent, and the way he puts his whole heart into each and every role.

You admired him so much.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

God, your heart could hardly stand it. He looked so goddamn handsome all snuggled up in bed, shirtless, and cuddled up to a pillow.

You should be that pillow.

It wasn’t fair.

“I was just thinking about you.”

“Sebastian.”

He sat up a little more, brows furrowing and frown tugging at the corner of his pink full lips, and you had to try so hard to fight back a smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Baby.” You breathed out, pressing a hand to your flushed cheek, “I watched the first episode.” You paused, smile growing, “It. Was. So. Good.”

“Fuck, baby.” He chuckled, scrubbing a hand down his face, “Don’t scare me like that. I thought you were gonna say you hated it.”

You scoffed playfully, “First of all, I would never ever tell you I hated something. Even if it was terrible, everything you do in my eyes is the best fucking things ever. “ You scrunched your nose at him, shaking your head, “Secondly, I could never hate anything that has to do with Bucky… God, I loved the growth he had and his relationships with Sam.” You flopped back on the couch with a dramatic sigh, “Like come on, why you do that to my heart? It was perfect.”

He called your name softly, “It’s only been one episode.” He laughed loudly, “What the hell do you mean? They beef the entire episode.”

“But I see where it’s going.” You huffed with a roll of your eyes, “I see the potential. The best bromance known to mankind is brewing.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” You groaned, eyes wide as you made a face at him, “Yes. You’re all broody and there will be good banter. There were hints of it in Civil War, it’s obvious.”

“You got all that from one episode?”

“Duh.”

Your cheeks hurt from how hard your smile grew at the sight of him laughing. With his head tossed back, his hair all ruffled, and a soft flush to his cheeks. Even though you loved when he had a beard, he could easily pull off clean shaven too.

God, you couldn’t wait to kiss him.

To sleep next to him.

To smell him.

To just be in his arms again.

His presence.

“You okay there?” Sebastian spoke softly, shaking you from your daze, “Got a little lost in your head there?”

“Yeah.” You smiled softly, pressing your face bashfully into the throw pillow beneath your head, “Just thinking about how excited I am to see you. I really hope you can make it before my birthday.”

He shot you that heartbreaking smile, moving the camera closer as he rolled onto his side, positioning his hand beneath his head, “Soon. And I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything, baby. The big thirty, what are we doing this year?”

“Can it just be us?” You asked, voice softer than you intended it to be, “I just miss you and want you all to myself. Maybe we can have dinner and set up the karaoke machine.”

He laughed.

“Yeah, don't think I didn’t notice that.”

You were staying in the house he had rented in December. His agency had rented it for him and seeing as he would be staying there, you would be too. Unfortunately, this is where Catalina would stay part time when she eventually turned up too.

At least this time you’d be here with them you guessed.

You didn’t know if that would make things better or worse.

“You know I love my karaoke.”

You raised a brow, smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “You know I do too. That’s why I suggested it.”

“Dinner. Karaoke. You got it?” He chuckled, “Anything else, baby? It’s your day, whatever you want you’ll get.”

“Sex.” You nodded, “Lots of sex. And maybe a massage and a bath.”

“Well but of course.” He paused, running his tongue along his bottom lip, “Nothing but orgasms for my girl on her birthday.”

You giggled, cheek heating, “Well,” You scrubbed a hand down your face, feeling shy, “Anything else new? You’ve been posting lots on social media for the past few days.”

“Oh, I have something funny to tell you.” Sebastian piped up, lifting himself up to sit with his back against the headboard, broad chest on display, “Remember how Marvel wanted Catalina to stay away?”

“Yeah.”

He laughed softly, easing the nerves in your belly.

“She was told not to post but you know her, always finding loopholes.” He paused, shaking his head, “She had one of her friends post a photo of his story of some live poster thing on the street advertising the show and he tagged her in it, and she turned around and reposted it on her story.”

Never have you rolled your eyes so hard, “You're kidding.”

“I’m not.” He shrugged, scratching the back of neck, “She’s beyond pissed about the Daisy press. Everyone was speculating it had ended because the articles painted it to be more than friendly between Daisy and I—Which I really can’t complain about,” He laughed, “She wanted her revenge and she took it.”

“And made it clear that you were still together.”

“Yup!” He rolled his eyes, “She can’t help herself.”

“I’m not ready for her to come here.” You sighed, “Let's hide it for a little. Just be hermits until we have to.”

“Deal.” Sebastian agreed, eyes softening, “You don’t even have to worry about that right now. It’ll just be me and you no matter what. She won’t be staying at the house that much.”

“Okay.” You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, “I don’t like her but I promise to try and get along with her. I don't want to cause you stress.”

“I know.” He said softly, “And I appreciate that so much but you could never stress me out, sweetheart. You don’t have to be her friend. You don’t have to be her anything.”

“You’re right.” You sighed, “I love you. And I know it’s late there. I just wanted to let you know my thoughts on the first episode and say goodnight. I should let you go.”

“I appreciate that, baby.” He shifted, snuggling back down into bed, his pillow shoved beneath his arm and face, “As much as I would love to talk I have to be up in five hours and it’s a long day. We’re trying to wrap things up.”

“So you can come home to me.”

He smiled big, “So I can come home to you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Sleep good, Seb.” You smiled softly, “Text me when you wake up.”

“You too.”

You shared one last smile before hanging up.

Less than a week, you hoped.

Less than a week, and your heart would come home.

—————

@justlovelifeblog @inlovewith3 @buckybarnesandmarvel @sleutherclaw @snugglingbucky @perlaluna @littlewhiterose

@idontwannagomrstarkk @abihaaa14 @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @sebsgirl71479 @getofffmydick @eccentricnos @barnesml @aira1995 @sweetwritingfanficfriend

[ilbound]

@hhemeraa has requested a story : "KAAAEEEEENNNNNNNNNNN--" Nicholas wails from the bottom of the steps having finally caught up with them, he's out of breath and pale, but determined. "I saw you!! On the!!!" He makes a small gagging sound. Pauses. Deep breath-- ok he's fine. "I saw you!! On the tv!! Did you really fight that guy?? Was it staged or?? You looked so cool! Was there some back story or something or were you just ready to FIGHT." (maybe for famous Kaen?)

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Another tiresome day of rehearsal is over and done with ( finally ! ) , the young starlet has just gotten home when they hear a familiar voice calling for them.  Startled , Kaen turns back ‘round , glancing about hastily to make sure Nicholas’ shouting isn’t making too much of a scene ( it might be a quiet neighborhood , but it wasn’t beyond anyone to stop & make a fuss over their being outed for living there ) .  Thankfully , the flux of folk milling about their day on the walk didn’t seem to pay the two much mind other than a curious look or two.

Truth be told , they WERE planning to check in at the desk and head upstairs for a nap … But for their friends ?  Exceptions could be made ( they could always squeeze in a quick snooze some other time ) !  Trotting along back down the steps to meet him , Kaen smiles.  Then f r o w n s as he breathlessly fumbles through his commentary.  Oh , he must be referring to the recent press interview between themself and their co-star ( foolish of them to assume people they knew wouldn’t tune in to watch something like that ) .  Embarrassed , a bit f r u s t r a t e d , Kaen distracts themself by idly taking a sip of their berry-flavored coffee.  They suppose they couldn’t exactly blame Nicholas for asking about it , for being the least bit CURIOUS over the whole debacle.  Yet everyone on set – them , their co-star , the directors and the PR team – had all agreed that the interview went rather well despite the altercation undermining the film’s reputation ; we should move on , they all said , let’s just let it go and stay focused from now on.

Nicholas is owed an honest response , regardless ( even as an actor , kaen never thought of themself as much of a liar ) ; none of the airs , none of the rehearsed responses—  ❝ Ahh … Ha-ha … ❞  Nervous chuckling , free hand rubbing at their neck , dark blue hues dancing away.  ❝ Well - yeah - wha’ ye read in th’ tabloids was true , an’ wha’ th’ people in th’ interview ‘ad us talkin’ ‘bout was somethin’ tha’ actually ‘appened durin’ th’ filimin’ of our movie. ❞  A pause to take another sip from their coffee , hoping it’ll give them the grace to keep talking , ❝ Tha’ part o’ it wasnae staged , no.  Ah mean , ye could say us bein’ forced ta’ play nice WAS staged , but otherwise , ‘s all very real.  Ye could still see the shiner Ah gave ‘im in th’ video , too , tha’ shit dun’ lie , unfortunately. ❞

❝ Y’know , Ah’m s u r e he’s a nice guy an’ all , but he ‘ad n o right ta’ be talkin’ down ta’ me ‘cause Ah’m still kinda’ a new face in th’ gig.  An’ ta’ follow it up wit’ some shit ‘bout sleepin’ wit’ ‘im so Ah could get bigger roles next time ?  Fuck off wit’ tha’ !  He DESERVED ta’ be clocked ! ❞  Kaen sighs , their short-lived anger about the whole tiff already leaving them in a deflated / defeated sort of state as they regard their friend with a rueful expression.  ❝ It wasnae right o’ me ta’ act like tha’ , though.  It put m’job in jeopardy an’ gave th’ directors hell. ❞

[the-character-lounge]

After Randy has a drunken argument with Spinel, Spinel tells Randy over the phone that he can't deal with whatever this relationship is while Candy is still out there, so no more 'dates' until it's dealt with. Randy insists on one more just so he can make it up to Spinel for the argument, and asks that they dress casual for it. Now on their date....

In front of them was certainly an older building. However, the architecture was very beautiful, and it had great marble pillars out front, and a long stone staircase that lead to two giant front doors. Randy walked up and looked around, furrowing his brows. “.. F- Funny, usually there are a b- bunch of ponies here.” He pushed one of the doors open, and looked around. “… huh.” He looked back at Spinel and shrugged. “W- Well, maybe we’re a little early. L- Let’s go in, I don’t w- want to freeze out here.” Upon entering, there was a Victorian-style looking lobby, and a small, glass chandelier hung above. Randy chuckled and looked around. “A- Almost makes you feel like R- Royalty don’t i- it?” he looked at Spinel to see how he was doing so far.

Spinel walked in, noting how quiet it seemed to be. He looked around the building, keeping close to Randy since he was actually kind of cold himself. "Well, it's a little over the top but it is what it is." He could appreciate that, though seeing such a showy place looking near empty and wearing these casual clothes made it all feel like an insult on wasted efforts.

 “Th- The dance hall’s this way,” he said, making his way towards another pair of stained, oak wood doors. “M- Maybe every pony’s already inside?” He opened the doors and looked around. Behind them was a vast, almost golden room, with a polished pearly floor and great glass mirrors hanging on all the walls. The sound of their hoof beats echoed as they stepped inside. “… th- this is really strange. There’s usually a whole slew of ponies here..” He shrugged, and went and sat on the edge of the nearby platform where musicians presumably played. “.. G- Guess we can.. w- wait a few minutes. We’re pr- probably early.”

"Echoooo...." he called out once they were in the dance hall. He looked over at the mirrors. "It's kind of creepy." he muttered to himself, though it came out much louder because of the sheer emptiness of the place. His ear flicked and he flushed just a little.

Randy chuckled and patted the spaced next to him, inviting Spinel to sit beside him. “I- I don’t know, I think i- it’s kind of nice. Usually it’s r- really loud and there ar- are ponies stumbling o- over each other.” He looked up at the ceiling above. A very grand looking crystal chandelier provided a comforting, warm light, and other light fixtures on the walls besides the giant mirrors made the place look almost like it was made of gold. “S- So.. y- you have been dancing.. but not ‘c- casual’ d- dancing?"

He sat down, shrugging. "Well that depends on if you count clubbing as casual. I don't remember a lot of it though, I was usually on something whenever I went." He stared off at the chandelier, getting a bit lost in it.

 “W- Well um.. gosh th- this is gonna be very different then.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously, and chuckled. He was about to say something, when he noticed a low, static humming. “.. D- Do you hear that?” he asked. “.. S- Sounds like it’s coming from the sp- speakers.” He got up and went over to the small control panel to the right of the stage, and found it was opened slightly. He opened it up all the way, and found that it was on. “.. S- Some pony left the stereo system on,” he called back to Spinel. “… M- Maybe we came too late. ” He chuckled and started fiddling around with the electronics.

 Spinel tilted his head. "Really?" He got up to follow, talking in a playfully suggestive manner that was also just a hint 'spooky', "Maybe we have the place all to ourselves... Foreverrrr...."

Randy chuckled and looked over his shoulder. “O- Oh gosh! I- I don’t know if I- I could stand b- being stuck with you for that l- long,” he teased. His hoof flipped a switch, and a waltz came on over the speakers. “.. H- Huh… I- I didn’t realize there was al- already a CD in h- here…” He stared at the system, then turned around and looked at Spinel. “W- Well.. i- it would be a shame i- if we came all th- the way out here to a d- dance hall and didn’t dance! C- Come on!” He took Spinel’s hooves, and started leading him over to the center of the dance floor.

"Waitwhat--?" Spinel stumbled slightly as he was pulled, looking back at the speakers. This was supposed to be the music ponies tripped over themselves over? Where was the bass? Once in the center of the floor, he simply stared dumbfounded. "How am-- How am I supposed to dance to this...?"

Randy chuckled and took Spinel’s hooves, and positioned them. “I- It’s easy! Y- You put your h- hoof there,” he said, placing Spinel’s hoof on Randy’s waist. “A- And then you hold my hoof with the other!” He took Spinel’s hoof in his and smiled. “I- I’ll lead, y- you follow, okay?” he raised a brow, a charming little grin on his face.

"This would be easier if I was facing away from you." he pouted. Grinding your butt on a guy's junk was a whole lot easier than whatever this was. He pressed himself close to Randy and seemed almost scared to let go, more like he was clinging during swimming lessons rather than dancing.

Randy rolled his eyes. “O- Okay, you just tr- try and let the music g- guide you. Th- There’s really n- not much to this kind of d- dancing.” He smiled and softly took a step forward, guiding Spinel around in a small circle, and slowing down for him if he needed it. He went a pace that was good for Spinel, but still managed to stay to tempo. He maintained eye contact with him, only breaking his gaze to occasionally check on Spinel’s hoof work.

Spinel mostly just tiptoed and scraped along, stumbling a little and trying to follow but seeming a little too self focused to actually do so. He was trying so hard to get control of his hooves that he wasn't paying attention to where Randy was actually stepping, and he started to give a few frustrated grunts as their hooves colliding on occasion. He averted his eyes after a while in grumpy shame. "I have no fucking idea what I'm doing."

Randy chuckled, and softly rubbed his side. “O- Okay, l- let’s start over. A- And we’ll take it s- step by step. N- Now,” Randy softly tapped Spinel’s thigh. “I st- stepped forward, a- and you st- step back. Th- Then you bring your h- hooves together.” He gently tapped Spinel’s other thigh. Once Spinel had moved, he stepped into the place he had just been standing. “N- Now we’ll go a different d- direction. B- But the same moves.” He stepped forward, slowly, allowing Spinel to step back and bring his hooves together. “A- And we repeat. S- Step back, together. Step b- back, together. S- See? Y- You’re getting the h- hang of it!” He smiled as they slowly danced in a ring beneath the chandelier. Randy kept Spinel close, still smiling an encouraging smile. “Y- You’re doing m- much better th- than when I was f- first learning you know.” He giggled, gently pulling Spinel along and guiding his every step. Randy wasn’t lying either, Spinel was much better than he was when he first learned how to dance. He could barely stand on his hind legs he was so awful.

 "Maybe you should keep my hooves on my ass, that should help." he joked out of awkwardness, then looked down at his hooves and tried to follow as told. He laughed and shook his head, "That has to be bullshit..." He took a breath and continued attempting this dance, but overall he was stiff and focused on making it perfect, everything being very deliberate and forced.

Randy stopped them suddenly, a more thoughtful look in his smile. “H- Hey, don’t worry about tr- trying to be perfect. J- Just relax and have fun.” He softly kissed Spinel’s cheek, and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m not a cl- client that needs to be impressed. I’m just a fr- friend who wants to dance~” This next part was a bit tricky because of the height difference, but he executed it relatively smoothly. He softly raised Spinel’s hoof, and walked him through a twirl which separated them at foreleg’s length before he quickly pulled Spinel back into his embrace, his hooves returning to the exact same place they were before.

He held his breath a moment when they stopped, determined to do this right but hearing Randy's words made it.. difficult to know what he was supposed to do. How was he supposed to have fun if there were rules to how to move around...? His eyes widened at the twirl and he stared in a daze at Randy. This was all too stiff and proper, why were they wearing casual clothes and dancing this stupid swirling dance that they did at those boring parties? He narrowed his eyes, determined to make this better according to his own opinion. He pulled Randy closer by the waist before putting his hooves back in their proper places, then began dancing with more focus in his hips. Steps were exaggerated but less awkward as he kicked in to his walking instinct, and it wasn't long before he was looking comfortable enough to speed up, tail flicking a little in eagerness.

Randy smiled more, and went with the motions. “S- See! Y- You’re really getting the h- hang of this!” he chuckled, and gently swayed with him, his hoof slipping down a bit on Spinel’s waist and more over his hip. As the song began to approach its climatic end, he took a step back, and initiated a twirl again, but this time, when he pulled Spinel back towards him, he adjusted his hips, slipped his hoof under Spinel’s back, and dipped him slowly, holding him near parallel to the floor. He kept their bodies close, and his face inches away from Spinel’s. “And n- now you know h- how to waltz,” he said gently, staring into Spinel’s eyes with his own, soft, inviting hazel eyes.

"It's not so bad." he admitted quietly, keeping along and doing better with the hoof on his hip. He was more enthusiastic about swirling, but gasped at the dip and immediately clung around Randy's neck with his eyes wide. He stared into his eyes and gawked just slightly. "... Apparently I do..."

Randy chuckled and gave him a very soft peck on the lips before he stood them both up on their hooves. “J- Just remember t- to be loose a- and have fun! Y- You felt a little stiff in the beginning.” He went back over the stage and sat down again, letting out a small ‘oof’ as he sat down, taking off his cardigan.

 He adjusted himself a little awkwardly, fixing his mane since it was knocked a bit loose from the twirl and dip. He wasn't really interested in sitting down yet. "Loose and stiff... Are you sure we're talking about dancing right now?" He snickered a little. He felt a little light, but wasn't sure what to do with that.

 Randy grinned and looked around. He was really glad that old Burly Barley still owned this place. It made it way less difficult to reserve the whole building for just he and Spinel to dance and explore in. He knew that the unicorn would have been extremely self-conscious, and might’ve gotten frustrated if there had been other ponies around. But, there was almost no pressure to keep up any ‘appearances’ now that it was just the two of them. The speakers played a different waltz, this time much slower. Randy stood up, and offered himself to Spinel. “W- Would you like t- to try and lead this time?”

"You think I can?" he chuckled clearing his throat and adjusting himself to accept another dance. He still wasn't fond of the music and wanted something faster, but he also knew any faster and he'd probably screw up. "These aren't the kind of moves I'm used to leading you know."

 Randy smiled and pressed himself to Spinel. “I- If you relax, and just remember to enjoy yourself, you’ll be great.” He followed confidently, and didn’t say anything if Spinel fumbled. He pretended like there were no mistakes, and stared deeply into Spinel’s eyes. The closeness, and the feeling of them against the world, it was enchanting. And it showed in his own eyes, a comforting glow in them as they stepped around, their reflections in the mirror seeming to stretch on forever.

Spinel was of course not the best dancer, he was awkward and seemed far to used to more sensual movements in general so there was a constant sway in his movement. He had his hoof moving on occasion to give soft strokes here and there to Randy's back and sides. Really, to him it helped to visualize this as a choreographed front facing lapdance but with both parties standing. He glanced on occasion at the mirror, thinking he looked kind of ridiculous like this but also that they seemed to be moving around okay. He looked back at Randy, bit his lip, and attempted to twirl him.

Randy giggled as he felt himself spin out. It was a tad rough, but he leaned back a bit to add to the twirl’s motions, before being pulled back towards Spinel. “Ooooh~ y- you’re a very l- lovely dancer! Wh- Who is your teacher?” he joked, softly placing his hoof back on Spinel’s shoulder. Randy was actually feeling swept off his hooves, and had a very entranced look in his eyes. It may not have been rough, but Randy looked like he was really relishing their dance, his cheeks slightly flushed. There was a smitten glint in his eye, and he smiled tenderly.

 Spinel shrugged as he started making more confident long circles around the floor rather than keeping himself restrained to the center. "Eh, I don't know if you'd like him. He's kind of a neurotic ass sometimes, full of surprises though." Perfect opportunity for revenge from earlier.

 Randy pouted and softly papped him on the shoulder, but he melted into a giggle, and felt himself being led around the spacious, antique room. “H- He sounds like a m- mess. I- I’ll bet he’s the t- type who has a ri- ridiculous stutter. And he d- does it, e- even wh- when he’s not nervous.” They could poke fun at him, it was okay. He kind of deserved it to be honest.

"Oh yeah, it's definitely grating at first, kind of whiny sounding too, but it's really one of a kind." He smirked smugly, giving Randy another swirl before changing direction. "At least he knows what he's doing mostly."

[sevlgi]

what we want

requested: yes x2

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.

a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D

word count: 6k

Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her. 

What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.

And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up. 

It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.

“Jennie.”

“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.

When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”

Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”

As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.

“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”

“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’

Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”

Her?

Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. This is her?”

“This is her. Jennie?”

She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”

“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”

She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”

“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.

Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”

Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”

“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”

Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”

“Can I order something for you?”

“I’m good.”

Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”

Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.

“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”

You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”

The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”

Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”

“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”

She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”

“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”

“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”

You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”

She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.

Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.

But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.

Of course, you had to change that.

“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”

At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”

Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”

As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”

“Why’re you here?” 

You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”

Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”

“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”

Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”

“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”

“Um. Why?”

Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”

Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”

Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.

But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more. 

“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”

Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”

“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”

The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. “Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”

In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”

“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”

Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”

Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”

It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.

“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway.  To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”

You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”

“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”

“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”

Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”

The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”

You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”

“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”

“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”

“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”

Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”

Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”

“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.

Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.

“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”

Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.

You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.

As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”

You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”

“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”

“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”

You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.

You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.

However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry. 

When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.

The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.

“Are you ready?”

“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”

You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”

“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”

“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”

The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”

You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”

Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.

“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.

You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.

Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.

Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Um. Sorry?”

She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”

“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again. 

Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on. 

“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”

Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”

“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”

Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”

“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”

“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”

She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.

Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”

It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”

“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”

You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”

Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed;  Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.

“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.

You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”

Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”

A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”

“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”

You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”

Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.

When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”

And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.

[arhvste]

❝bokuto, atsumu, suna and aran introducing their s/o in an interview❞

bokuto koutarō

→ E X C I T E D

→ why wouldn’t he be though?

→ he gets to finally introduce his wonderful s/o to the world

→ when his pr team gave him the green light, he didn’t hesitate

→ “ah bokuto! great playing today, might we ask who this is beside you?”

→ “this is y/n! aren’t they good-looking?! i’ve found myself a keeper huh?”

→ rambles on and on about you

→ no off switch

→ “so uh bokuto, do you mind talking to us about your opinion on your game performance today?”

→ “yeah lemme just finish telling you about this time y/n and i went on extreme fishing abroad! 🤩”

→ reporters are kinda like 😀 while he talks about you

→ fans are o b s e s s e d

→ #bokuy/n #stany/n #couplegoals are trending

→ twitter LOVE y’all

→ they love that bokuto doesn’t give af about what the reporters are saying 💀

→ he only seems to want to talk about you right now

→ it’s not like he’s purposely doing it though

→ he’s been wanting to talk about you for so long he’s just excited he’s finally allowed to

→ when you guys meet fans after the interview bokuto stops to chat to every single one

→ they love yourself and bokuto’s dynamic and laugh and joke with the two of you

→ a TON of group fan photos

→ bokuto fans are now y/n fans too

→ they literally decide you and bokuto will be married some day so they might aswell stan now

→ they’re gonna be looking out for you in future appearances with him

→ and you can bet yer ass that bokuto is gonna bring you along and show you off every chance he gets

→ fans are well fed by bokuto and it’s a fact

miya atsumu

→ literally almost fought with his pr team when they told him to wait a bit before introducing you to the public

→ “miya, your fangirls will most likely react badly if you introduce them right now.”

→ “yeah and? let em 🙄”

→ atsumu IGNORES his pr team and does it anyway cause he thinks it’s stupid about worrying what his fans will think

→ it’s not their decision who he dates 😡

→ anyways, he brings you on a talk show interview

→ “good evening miya-san, and whos this youve brought along with you?”

→ “this is y/n, aint they gorgeous?”

→ he is SHAMELESS about flirting with you on air

→ “yer so stunning tonight ya know? just wait till we get home 😏”

→ “m-miya-san! i think we should edit that out...”

→ fans have mixed reactions tbh

→ ya can’t please everyone ig

→ atsumu couldn’t give two shits though 😹

→ this man LIKES AND RETWEETS fans that are bashing other ones for not stanning them as a couple 💀

→ his pr team won’t stop ringing his phone to stop

→ doesn’t care at all, he’s always been transparent with how he likes his fans to behave why would this be any different?

→ in the end, more people start to stan after they see how seriously he’s taking this

→ since he genuinely seems to care and love you, they suppose they can stan y’all as a couple 😐

→ i’m sorry you guys aren’t trending the same way bokuto and his s/o were though 😹

→ give it a month though and a few magazine covers together and you have everyone wrapped round your finger and his fans start to like you more 🤪

→ more than atsumu in fact

→ because you’re so nice to his fans they just kinda convert 💀

→ atsumu doesn’t really mind tbh he’s just glad that you’ve been accepted and he doesn’t have to worry about people stepping too much out of line

suna rintarō

→ another one who doesn’t really care

→ he doesn’t exactly go out of his way to hide you but you guys aren’t big on pda either

→ suna leaves his fans GUESSING and doesn’t even know it

→ his fans literally s c a v e n g e for any little detail or anything about you because you and suna rarely go out and make a big scene

→ y’all are probably just grabbing lunch and his fans have several conspiracies over who you are what what the two of you are doing

→ it’s a whole big thing on his side of the twitter stans

→ suna doesn’t know about this because he’s not even on his own side of twitter 💀

→ suna’s timeline is a ton of stuff to do with gaming because i know this man streams with kenma sometimes

→ y’all can’t tell me that these two wouldn’t stream together and have an elite friendship after the timeskip 😡

→ and somehow suna made it onto barb stan twitter

→ no clue how he got there but he’s not mad about it because he thinks they’re funny af and is now a secret barb himself

→ anyways, eventually the two of you are caught on the street by an interviewer

→ and suna’s just there answering their questions like this 😐

→ he just wants to go grab some milk from the store with you can the reporters just gO away 😡

→ attention is then turned to you after the irrelevant small talk the interviewer had with suna

→ “oh ahahah just wondering... who’s this with you we’ve all been dying for an answer!”

→ “huh? you have? why? it’s just y/n my s/o it’s not that deep bro 🥱”

→ he doesn’t make a fuss about it and neither do you because like suna said it’s not that deep

→ the interviewer is just like 👁👁 and then thanks you and leaves

→ well that was easy wasn’t it?

→ that answers their months worth of questioning ig

→ you and suna later discover about the ongoing theories as to who you are and what you are to suna

→ from then on, the two of you MESS with his fans and constantly leave them guessing as to whether you’re together fr or not because y’all think it’s funny how much they care💀

aran ojiro

→ his pr team don’t even tell him to keep you from the public

→ this man is going to introduce you respectfully and properly and they know this

→ one of the few pro athletes who don’t need to have their social life kept on a leash because he goes the right way about it 😎

→ he brings you along to a magazine interviewing when you tell him that you’re comfortable with going public

→ oh btw, absolutely NO pressure from him to go public everything’s done in your own time

→ mf KING 😡🤚

→ straight away he’s making sure that this interview is based on your relationship rather than just him

→ “hey everyone, this is y/n my partner! they’re going to be joining me today!”

→ the interviewers LOVE you both

→ absolute dream to work with you guys

→ your dynamic is 🧑🏽‍🍳😙👌

→ every so often there’s a question about a recent games he includes you 😼

→ “so regarding your recent game, how well do you think you performed?”

→ “i think i was okay but definitely not at my best, it comes across differently watching from the sidelines though doesnt it! y/n, how did ya think i played from watching from yer perspective?”

→ see !! this man is including you every chance he gets 😩

→ fans adore you

→ literally deem you their parents 😎

→ just like bokuto, aran is wonderful to his fans

→ talks to every single one of them because he was raised to acknowledge anyone who politely acknowledges him

→ has full on conversations with as many fans as he can with you

→ tells them mf STORIES about the two of you and how you met etc

→ his meet and greet is literally story time with aran and y/n

→ fans are quiet and all stand around the two of you as you both tell little stories and stuff about your relationship

→ again, so many group photos

→ you guys literally become the parents of his fanbase

→ some fans are already planning your wedding for you on twitter 💀

→ aran doesnt mind though

→ cause he might just take a few of their ideas when he marries you for real 😏

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @babyybokutoakaashi

please send an ask to be added / removed from my taglist

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 4 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo and Reader finally get a moment alone, and important conversations are had. Over dinner of course ;) 

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 4, but it’s over 10k, so hope that makes up for it lol Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 3 Tumblr Link: Here 

“Great. See you then.” 

The words ricocheted around your head like pinballs, and all you could do was stare as Dynamight turned on his heel and strode out of your ruined shop like he couldn’t stand to be there a second longer. 

“Bak—bro, c’mon!” Red Riot, or Kirishima as he insisted, called after the blond, who didn’t stop. Then the redhead turned back to you, clapping his hands in front of his face and bowing his head. “I’m so sorry about him. He can be a little…” 

“Direct?” you offered when the hero trailed off into silence for a beat to long. 

“I was gonna say he can be a little bit of a dick, but that sounds better,” Kirishima laughed, and you felt your face flush when he aimed that charming grin in your direction. 

You’d heard stories of how charismatic Red Riot was. He was a popular, mainstream favorite hero. The gossip magazines were always covered with his shirtless pictures that never failed to rile up the female population, even Mrs. Kojima and her old lady friends. 

But nothing could have prepared you for being in front of him, for having him wink and smile at you, even if you logically knew he wasn’t coming onto plain old you. He was currently wearing a dark hoodie and non-descript jeans, but you could still see the definition of his muscles through the bulky clothing, which definitely wasn’t helping matters. 

“W-Well, I’m sure you and D-Dynamight have more important places to be,” you stuttered as you averted your eyes. “I-I don’t want to keep you from any hero business.” 

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint, I’ll get out of your hair,” Kirishima chuckled as he held his hands up. 

Your face burned even hotter, if that was possible. “N-No! I mean—” 

“Just a joke.” The redhead winked at you again as he started to back up toward the front door, his boots crunching over glass and debris. “I’ll see you later, though. Oh! And, uh, make sure you’re on time tonight for Bak—Dynamight’s pick up. He really hates tardiness.” 

“Noted,” you murmured as your stomach bottomed out inside you. 

“Don’t look so terrified!” the pro hero laughed, pausing in the frame of your broken doorway. “I promise he’s not so bad once you get to know him. All bark, no bite, remember? But if he does bark at you too much, just let me know, and I’ll be sure to leash him.” 

Kirishima shot another sharp-toothed grin at you, and you strained your facial muscles to try and flash him a small smile in return. You weren’t very successful, since Red Riot’s bright expression dimmed a fraction, but thankfully he didn’t come back into the store. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he said in a more serious but reassuring tone. “We can get breakfast! I know all the great places around the agency.” 

“O-Okay.” You didn’t know what else to say. Why was this pro hero offering to take you to breakfast? Was this just because of the news? You’d seen how the media had been tearing into Dynamight the last two days, calling him reckless, arrogant. Several interviews with the other heroes who’d been on the scene didn’t help matters, either, since by their accounts, they almost had the villain handled before Dynamight stepped in. 

Maybe Red Riot was just trying to butter you up so you didn’t help with Dynamight’s crucifixion. 

What the redhead didn’t know, however, was you couldn’t say a word against the blond, even if you wanted to. 

“Okay,” Kirishima echoed and drew you out of your thoughts. The pro hero flashed you one last smile and put two fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute. “Have a good rest of your afternoon and evening! And when you get to the agency, if you need anything, just let our PR manager Nao know. Take care!” 

With that, the redhead pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt, slipped on his sunglasses, and ducked out of your store. Seconds later, he was gone. 

A beat of silence passed by, then two, and then you felt your knees give out from under you as you collapsed to the floor. Pain flared through your lower legs as you struck the hard, debris-strewn tile, but you barely registered the discomfort. Your breathing started to quicken, coming out in harsh pants, and the two paper bags in your arms crinkled with the motion. 

“Fuck,” you exhaled as tears blurred your vision, lifting a shaky hand to grasp tightly at your hair. “Fuck.” 

You’d been so stupid. Yesterday, when neither Dynamight nor the police came banging down your hotel room door, you thought maybe you were just being paranoid. That the blond pro hero hadn’t noticed anything unusual, and you could just go living your normal, unimportant life. 

Of course, the universe just had to prove you wrong. 

Because if you had any doubts before, they were gone now, evaporated under Dynamight’s hot, crimson glare. 

He knew your secret, and he was going to confront you about it. Tonight. Why else would he insist on picking you up? Alone. You’d heard Red Riot say he was patrolling this evening, so he wouldn’t be around to play buffer between you and Dynamight, which provided the perfect opportunity for an interrogation. 

But what could you do? Refuse? Dynamight didn’t seem to be the type to take the word “no” very well. Run? The expression you’d seen on his face before he left clearly told you that you wouldn’t make it very far. Besides, where would you go? Your parents were in America, and as you embarrassingly admitted to that detective the other night, you didn’t have any friends. 

And, until your apartment and shop were renovated, you didn’t have a place to sleep, and you didn’t have the spare money to live out of a hotel, so the agency was really your only option. 

Well, there was prison, too, you supposed. Maybe Dynamight was just going to pick you up and take you straight to the police station. 

He’s not going to turn you in, a small, hopeful voice inside of you said. He would have already done so if that was his goal. 

There was logic behind that sentiment, but it offered you no comfort. 

Because if Dynamight didn’t want to turn you in, what did he want from you? 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Mrs. Kojima,” you sighed for the millionth time. “I’m going to be fine. And I really can’t take all of this with me.” 

You gingerly passed the large paper bag full of glass food containers back to Tadashi, Mrs. Kojima’s teenaged grandson, who stared at the bag with the hunger only a sixteen-year-old boy could achieve. 

“Fine?” the old Japanese lady scoffed, narrowing her dark eyes at you. “You would be fine in a nice, fancy hotel, not in a building with those… those… delinquents!” 

“Delinquents?” you couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re pro heroes. Famous pro heroes, some of the top in the country.” 

“If they’re so good, they wouldn’t have destroyed your home,” Mrs. Kojima huffed before she used her cane to nudge her grandson. “And Tadashi, give the poor girl back her food. Your face is too gaunt to be healthy, girl, and don’t think I can’t see those circles under your eyes.” 

The boy sighed as he stared longingly at the homemade food, and you could have sworn he was drooling, but he obeyed his grandmother and extended the bag to you again. 

“No, please, keep it,” you insisted as you waved your hands in front of you, taking a step back. “I-I don’t know if there will be a place to keep food in my room, and I don’t want to bother them too much.” 

“You should bother them, since they’ve been such a bother to you,” the old lady said as she nudged you this time with her cane. “You are too nice. I always say this. You need to be more selfish.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled. “But thank you for thinking of me, Mrs. Kojima. It was very kind for you and Tadashi to come see me off.” 

“How many times must I tell you to call me Ayano?” the elderly woman groused, tapping your shin with her cane again. “And of course we came. I wasn’t going to let you stand alone on a dark street and wait for that monster of a man.” 

“Grandma!” Tadashi gasped as he looked up from salivating into the bag of food. “Dynamight is the number two hero! He’s not a monster, he’s the coolest!” 

“I’ve seen him on TV,” his grandmother sniffed. “Always yelling and swearing. And Mr. Takeyoshi said he was very rude the other night. Not to mention all the damage he caused! Nothing but a foul-mouthed delinquent.” 

“Grandmaaaaa,” Tadashi whined. 

You sided more with Mrs. Kojima on this one, but the absolute adoration on the boy’s face made a small smile tug at your lips. 

But your amusement quickly faded as you glanced down at your phone again. 

6:58. 

Said foul-mouthed delinquent should be here any minute. 

As if your thoughts summoned him, the squeal of tires suddenly echoed through the otherwise quiet twilight, and you turned—with a pit in your stomach—to face the intersection down the road. Your street had been blocked off by barricades since the asphalt was still missing in patches, so the sleek, black car that had just pulled up was forced to park on the corner and put on its hazards. 

Your heart was hammering beneath your sternum, beating out a frantic, hummingbird rhythm, and you watched the car door get flung open, a lithe figure ducking out a moment later. The last rays of fading sunlight glinted off his ash blond hair before he pulled up his hood, but then he was looking in your direction, and even if he was too far to see the details of his face, you felt the instant his eyes locked onto you. 

“Holy shit, is that him?” Tadashi asked behind you, followed by a yelp as his grandmother smacked him with her cane. 

“Language,” she hissed, but the rest of her sentence was drowned out by the blood roaring through your ears as Dynamight started to walk toward you. 

No, not walk. Stalk. He looked like a predator slinking down the sidewalk, dressed in black and skimming through the shadows. There were a few people milling about the street, your neighbors who were still trying to clean up, but the pro hero paid them no mind. His gaze was still zeroed in on you, and your breath grew more shallow with each step he took. 

Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, you chanted in your head. And smile! Try not to look like he’s your executioner. 

You plastered on a smile, but it felt jagged like the broken street you stood on, your cheeks aching from the strain. 

Finally, after what felt like a blink and an eternity simultaneously, Dynamight came to a stop about ten feet away from you on the sidewalk. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, his face was a cold mask on the tipping point of a scowl, and his eyes felt like red-hot embers burning into your face. 

“At least you know how to be punctual,” he said without preamble, his voice as sharp as his scarlet gaze. 

You heard Mrs. Kojima gasp behind you, followed by Tadashi frantically trying to shush her under his breath, so you cut the old lady off before she could say what was on her mind. 

“T-Thank you for taking the time to escort me to the agency, Dynamight,” you said, bowing at the waist so you could get a moment’s reprieve from those red eyes. “It’s… very kind of you, since I know you must be busy with your hero duties.” 

Mrs. Kojima harumphed behind you, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself before you straightened up. 

Dynamight’s crimson gaze had lost none of its intensity, but he finally seemed to notice Tadashi and his grandmother over your shoulder, and when he spoke, he’s tone was a fraction of a degree softer. 

“Yeah, well… it’s the least the agency can do,” he said evenly, like he’d memorized a script. 

You wondered if Kirishima had said something to him after they left. Or maybe the PR manager the red-haired hero had mentioned? 

Suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat behind you, and you winced. 

“Sorry, this is Mrs. Kojima and her grandson, Tadashi,” you said, motioning to them. “They’re some of my customers who just wanted to see me off.” 

“Customers,” Dynamight echoed as his red eyes raked over the pair. “For your stitching shop?” 

Something about his tone seemed off, but you couldn’t place it. 

“Alterations shop,” you corrected with a frown. “But yes.” 

“Is that all?” he asked as his eyes locked with yours, and you felt your insides liquify. 

Fuck. There was no way he could know that Mrs. Kojima and Tadashi had been “patients” of yours before. Right? Even if he knew about your quirk, that was a leap to make. 

Then again, it did sound kind of weird for two random customers to take an interest in their seamstress’ personal life. You’d set yourself up for that one. 

You opened your mouth, ready to clumsily explain, but Mrs. Kojima beat you to it. 

“I knew her grandparents long before you were a thought in your daddy’s brain boy,” the old lady huffed as she hobbled forward to stand beside you, Tadashi stumbling after her. “So I check on her from time to time, especially when she’s meeting and going off with some no-good delinquent at night. Is that alright with you?” 

“Mrs. Kojima—” you started as your eyes widened. 

“Grandma!” Tadashi hissed, his face flushing with mortification. 

Dynamight, for his part, actually smirked at the old lady’s attitude, amusement dancing in his red eyes as he finally shifted them off you. 

“Well, Stitches here is gonna be fine,” he said with a sharp smile. “She’ll be staying in our finest suite, being waited on hand and foot for the next few weeks.” 

Stitches? What the hell was that? Did he forget your name? 

“Is that so?” Mrs. Kojima narrowed her dark eyes on the blond, and her expression said she didn’t trust the pro hero as far as she could throw him. 

“Lucky,” Tadashi muttered under his breath. 

“If you don’t believe me, you can call her tomorrow and check for yourself,” Dynamight said before he turned to face you completely, effectively cutting off any rebuttal from the Kojimas. “Are you ready? It’s cold, and the car’s running.” 

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, shifting the strap of your duffle bag higher up on your shoulder. “J-Just a second.” 

You turned back to Mrs. Kojima, who was blatantly glaring daggers at Dynamight, but her expression softened as she shuffled in to hug you. 

“Watch out for him,” she whispered in your ear. “And take care of yourself. If something’s wrong, call me, no matter what. You can stay with me, okay?” 

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine,” you murmured as you pulled away. “I’ll call you when I know more about the shop’s repairs. Tadashi, take care of your grandma for me.” 

“Bah!” Mrs. Kojima scoffed, shooing you back with her cane. “I can take care of myself.” 

“I know.” You smiled as you grabbed the handle of your small rolling suitcase beside you. “Have a good night.” 

You turned back to Dynamight to find him suddenly beside you, the scent of burnt sugar enveloping you a moment later. You inhaled so fast it whistled through your teeth, but the pro hero didn’t even look at you as he slipped his finger through your duffle bag’s strap and pulled it off your shoulder. He slung it on his back in one fluid movement, and then he was reaching for your suitcase, too. 

“I-I got this one!” you said, a little too loudly, as you stumbled back a step and dragged the suitcase with you. “Thank you, but, um, I’ve got it.” 

Dynamight pursed his lips at you, his eyes narrowing into crimson slits, but then his gaze jumped over your shoulder. 

“Got something you want to say, kid?” he grunted, and he looked a little ridiculous with your pink and purple patterned duffle peeking out from over his shoulder. 

“M-Me?” Tadashi gaped and glanced around quickly like there was anyone else within half a block, but when he realized Dynamight was still staring at him expectantly, the boy began to ramble. “I-I just, uh, I just wanted to say I think you’re the coolest hero there is. Even more than Deku! Man, I wish I could have seen the fight the other night. You probably wiped the floor with that villain! When I grow up, I hope I’m a hero half as cool as you.” 

Dynamight actually seemed surprised by the boy’s adoring word vomit. The blond blinked as the suspicion and defensiveness drained from his face and posture, and then an easy smirk stretched across his lips. 

“You got a quirk, kid?” he asked. 

Mrs. Kojima made a face beside you like she was going to cut in, but you put a hand on her arm and gestured to Tadashi’s beaming face, and the old lady sighed and relented. She knew what this meant for her grandson. 

“Yeah, I do!” Tadashi grinned and puffed out his chest before he shifted the bag of food in his grasp and held out his right hand. His brow buckled in concentration, but a moment later a flame exploded to life in his palm. The flame grew, flickering upwards as it twisted and twined, changing shape as it went. In the blink of an eye, the teenager held the hilt of a fiery dagger, which he twirled around his knuckles. “I can make different objects with flames, and they act solid when I concentrate hard enough.” 

“That’s a pretty cool power,” Dynamight said as he eyed the flaming blade. “Bet you kick ass in your hero course.” 

“I-I do alright,” Tadashi said as he extinguished the dagger, trying to go for a nonchalant shrug, but the effect was ruined by his mile-wide grin and heart eyes. “You really think it’s cool?” 

“It’s only cool if you’re the best, so don’t slack off,” the blond scoffed. “Only losers half-ass their way through school.” 

Mrs. Kojima’s face was silently scandalized, but Tadashi’s grew determined. 

“Yes, sir!” the boy said as he bowed at the waist. “I’ll work hard to be the best of the best.” 

“Good.” Dynamight smirked. “Then, when you graduate, you can come prove how strong you are by taking me on. Who knows? If you’re actually strong, we might hire a new side-kick.” 

Tadashi looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head as he straightened up, but the pro hero only snickered as he spun on heel and began to stride away. 

“You comin’, Stitches?” he called over his shoulder. 

“C-Coming!” you called back before you flashed the Kojimas one last smile. “Have a good night and be safe going home!” 

Then you took off down the sidewalk, your rolling suitcase clattering over the broken concrete behind you. 

Dynamight’s legs were twice as long as yours and quickly ate up the distance to his car still parked on the corner, and you only caught up to him as he was tossing your duffle in the trunk. 

You stood on the curb panting for a moment, just staring at him, and then the blond looked up and caught your eye. 

“What?” he grunted. 

“N-Nothing.” You cleared your throat and moved to pick up your suitcase, but he beat you to it, bending down and hefting the thing up in one fluid movement. The trunk slammed shut with a resounding thud, and the two of you were left staring at each other in silence. 

“Get in,” Dynamight finally said, jerking his chin at the passenger door. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, yanked open the door, and slid inside without another word. 

You could still feel the Kojimas’ eyes on your back, and you didn’t want to give them cause to worry, so you took a deep breath and got into the car. 

Even though your heart was trying to break free of your ribcage. 

The car itself was sleek and fancy, both inside and out. The seats were a supple red leather with ebony stitching, the dashboard shiny and inlaid with the newest gadgets, and you curled into the seat, afraid to even touch anything. This car was probably worth more money than you’d ever made in your entire life, and you had worked odd jobs since you were sixteen. 

The engine rumbled to life as Dynamight cranked the ignition, warm air blasting out of the vents and thawing your red nose and cheeks. The dash said it was only eighteen degrees Celsius, but the wind had been brisk. 

“Seatbelt,” the pro hero said as he yanked his own across his thick chest. 

You swallowed tightly before you did as you were bidden, and the second you were secured, the blond was throwing the car in gear and peeling away from the curb. Your barricaded street disappeared in a blur, and suddenly you were on your way. 

With Dynamight. Alone. In his car. 

The luxurious interior of the vehicle began to close in on you, feeling more like the walls of a coffin, and you braced yourself for Dynamight’s interrogation. 

Except… it never came. 

Minutes passed by in silence, and all the while, the blond’s red eyes stayed focused on the road ahead. One of his hands casually gripped the steering wheel, the other wrapped around the gear shift, and every one of the hero’s movements was fluid, precise. 

You tried not to, but you couldn’t help but study him out of the corner of your eye. His blank face gave nothing away, and neither did his slumped body language. He was covered in a dark hoodie and jeans again, so you couldn’t see much skin besides his hands and neck, but he looked… fine. 

One would have never guessed that he nearly bled to death beneath your hands two days ago. 

The memory of his blood, warm and tacky on your skin, made you clench your hands in your lap, and when you glanced over at the blond again, you nearly jumped out of your seat when you met red eyes. 

“Now you got somethin’ you want to say, Stitches?” he asked as he shifted gears, smoothly pulling around another car. 

“M-My name’s not Stitches,” you replied without thinking, but maybe this was a good thing. Thinking always got you in trouble. 

“Yeah, no shit,” the blond snorted, darting a quick look at you again before turning back to the road. “But you keep starin’ at me, so spit it out.” 

You fumbled for something to say, still thinking of his ashen face splattered with blood. “T-That was nice, what you said back there to Tadashi. He, um, really idolizes you, so you probably made his whole year.” 

“Tch.” Dynamight clicked his tongue as he looked in the rearview mirror. “Chances are, kid probably won’t end up as much.” 

You frowned. “But you said—” 

“I know what I said,” he cut you off, eyes meeting yours again. “And I meant it. Slacking off is for losers. Still, the brat will probably end up as a B-lister at most, more likely just an extra. That’s just the damn odds.” 

His words were harsh, but you knew they were true. There was no shortage of people signing up to be “heroes” in the world, but very few actually achieved the fame and notoriety of, say, All Might. Even years after his retirement, the Old Symbol of Peace was still talked about. 

“Well… thank you for not saying that to Tadashi,” you murmured as you averted your eyes out the window. 

“Someone will have to eventually,” Dynamight grunted. “But, if he proves me wrong, then he might actually have some potential.” 

“Mmm,” you hummed noncommittally. You didn’t want to talk about Tadashi anymore. Hell, you didn’t want to talk about anything. 

But you knew it was coming. You could feel the pro hero building up to it, the air in the car becoming more tense and charged by the second, like the calm before the storm. 

Part of you wished Dynamight would just rip the bandaid off already. 

The other part of you wondered if you would survive opening the car door and jumping from the moving vehicle, but at the speed the blond was driving, chances were slim. 

You were just thinking to pull out your phone and subtly look at the agency on the map to see how far away you were, but then Dynamight cleared his throat, and you felt all the saliva dry up in your mouth. 

This was it. 

“So,” the pro hero started as he pulled up to a stoplight, and his eyes found yours again. The red light reflected off his face and made it hard to tell where his irises began, everything washed out in crimson. 

But before he could get another word out, a loud growl split the interior of the car. 

Dynamight blinked at you before his gaze fell to your stomach, and you felt your face flare with heat. 

“Sorry,” you muttered as you clenched your abdomen, trying to shut it up, but it only growled louder in defiance. “I, um, forgot to eat dinner since I was busy packing.” 

And because your stomach had been in knots all day, but you didn’t need to tell him that. 

“Wasn’t that kid holding a whole bag of food back there?” Dynamight asked, frowning at you. 

“Y-Yeah.” You blushed even harder. Nothing escaped the pro’s notice, did it? “Mrs. Kojima had brought some stuff, but I didn’t know if there would be a place to store it in, um, whatever room I’m staying in. Plus, Tadashi is always hungry because of his hero course training, so it’s not like any of it will go to waste.” 

“You’ll starve yourself so some brat can stuff extras in his face?” the blond scoffed, and he looked at you like you were speaking another language. 

“I won’t starve,” you argued, a nervous laugh huffing out of you. “I-It’s one meal, and I ate a big lunch.” 

That was a lie, but maybe you could get away with a little one. 

Dynamight studied you for a long, silent moment, his face unreadable. Then the light turned green, and he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. 

“Tch.” He flicked on his blinker and turned left, weaving down a set of smaller streets leading away from the city’s center, where you knew his agency was located. 

“Where… are we going?” you asked as you glanced out the window. “Is this a short cut to the agency?” 

“We’re not goin’ to the agency,” he said. 

Your heart skipped a beat, and some of your unease must have shown on your face, because the pro hero scoffed again. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We’re stopping to get food first.” 

You blinked in surprise. Food? He was buying you dinner? 

“Y-You don’t have to do that,” you stuttered, awkwardly waving your hands in front of you. “Really, I’m fine.” 

“Well, I’m fuckin’ hungry, so I’m getting food. That alright with you, Stitches?” His red eyes flicked to the side and pinned you to your seat, and all you could do was nod. 

The car descended into silence again as Dynamight navigated through the streets, and a few minutes later, he was pulling up to a curb. The street around you was definitely in a better part of town than you were used to, but it didn’t look too fancy. A number of small restaurants dotted the road, interspersed by a couple bars, and a few dozen people roamed the sidewalks, laughing and stumbling and obviously having a good time. 

Dynamight stared out at the crowd through the windshield, a small sneer of disgust curling his upper lip, before he turned to you. 

“Stay here,” he said. No, ordered. “I’ll be right back, so don’t go anywhere.” 

“O-Okay,” you replied with a nod. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if trying to discern whether or not you were lying, but he must have been satisfied with what he found because he reached for the sunglasses that were casually thrown atop the dash. He slid them on before opening the car door and slipping out, but he paused before he closed it, bending down and poking his head back inside. 

“Any allergies?” he asked bluntly. “I don’t need you choking and dying on my leather seats.” 

“No allergies.” You shook your head. “Anything is fine.” 

A part of you still wanted to argue about him buying you food, but something told you that you would both lose the argument and succeed in pissing the blond off, which you were trying your best to avoid. 

Dynamight grunted in acknowledgement before he straightened, pulled up his hood, and slammed the car door. He took several strides away before he gestured back to the vehicle, and it was only when the locks engaged that you realized he’d taken the keys out of the ignition at some point. 

He really didn’t want you going anywhere. 

You exhaled shakily as you unclenched and clenched your fingers in your lap, trying to get some feeling back into them. Your thoughts kept threatening to spiral off down dark avenues, so you focused on watching the people outside the car. The windows were pretty tinted, besides the windshield, so you didn’t think people noticed you watching them go about their night. Everyone was happy and smiling, flushed with laughter and drink, and a yawning loneliness suddenly opened up inside you. Even back in America, you’d never had a lot of friends, but you had drinks a few times in college with classmates, and you missed going out to somewhere besides the grocery or craft supply store. You had thought you would have time to make new friends here in Japan, friends that you could try restaurants and bars with, but it hadn’t happened yet. 

And depending on what Dynamight had to say, it might not happen at all. 

You stewed in anxious silence for several minutes, but then the locks disengaged with a chirp, and the blond was sliding back into the driver’s seat, shoving a bulging plastic bag into your lap. 

“Here, don’t drop it,” he muttered as he jammed the keys back into the ignition. 

“I’ll just, um, set it on the floor,” you said as you shifted the bag down to the floorboards, holding it in place with your feet. The aromatic steam wafted out of the bag as you leaned over it, and your stomach snarled at the delicious scent of greasy meat and roasted vegetables. “This smells really good.” 

“Of course it does,” Dynamight sneered. “I’m not gonna eat shitty food.” 

“Only the best for the best,” you joked awkwardly. You blamed your sudden lightheadedness. When was the last time you ate? 

“Damn straight,” the blond huffed, yanking on his seatbelt before shifting the car into gear. “Can you make it five minutes without fainting?” 

“Yes?” you questioned more than stated, your brow furrowing. 

“Good, then hang on.” With that, the pro hero squealed away from the curb, merging into traffic seamlessly. 

Dynamight drove for several more minutes, but you didn’t ask where the two of you were going this time. The blond probably wouldn’t answer, and if he did, it would just be some kind of sharp retort, so you settled for staring out the window while making sure the food between your feet didn’t tip over. 

You hadn’t explored the city very much since you moved here, so most of what you passed by was foreign to you. But, just judging by the amount of lights and traffic around, you estimated that Dynamight was skirting the edge of the downtown area instead of going into it. You knew the general location of his agency, since you panic-Googled it earlier this afternoon, and while it was closer, the pro hero didn’t seem to be driving toward it. 

Eventually, Dynamight pulled up to the curb on an empty street and parked in the shadow of a tall office building. There was no sign on the façade to indicate a company, and only the dim emergency lights shone through the darkened windows, so it was obvious everyone had gone home for the day. Next door to the building seemed to be a small park, concrete and steel giving way to green grass and shadowed trees, but there was no one walking on this particular street. 

“Where are we?” you asked as you frowned out the tinted window. 

“Dunno,” Dynamight said before he opened his door, sliding out of the car without any more explanation. 

You blinked in confusion as he wrenched open your door a moment later, but he still didn’t say anything as he bent down to pick up the bag of food at your feet. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” you asked. “You drove us here.” 

“By the time I answer all your questions, the food is gonna be cold,” the pro hero grunted, and he glared down at you still buckled into your seat. “Get out.” 

“We’re not eating in the car?” You didn’t mean to ask this many questions, you could tell it was irritating the blond, but you were just so… confused as to how you got to this point in your life. 

“I’m not about to let you ruin my damn leather seats,” Dynamight growled, stepping back to give you room. “Now get out of the damn car… please.” 

The last word sounded like it was dragged out of the hero against his will, painfully, and you wondered again if he was trying to be nicer because of all the negative media coverage. You didn’t think the blond gave a shit what the media thought, but Red Riot and their agency did, so maybe Dynamight was being forced to make an effort. 

“Are you seriously just going to gape at me like an idiot? Do your legs not work?” 

Well, what was that saying? You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t force it to drink. 

“S-Sorry,” you stuttered as you fumbled with your seatbelt, and you nearly twisted your ankle falling out of the car. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re as clumsy as shitty Deku,” Dynamight grumbled as he easily caught your elbow and kept you from faceplanting. 

This close, you could smell the caramelizing sugar scent that you finally realized emanated from the blond, and even through the sleeve of your sweater, you could feel the strength in the pro hero’s calloused fingers. 

Your face flushed with heat, but you were pretty sure he was tired of your stammered apologies, so you just stepped up onto the curb as he slammed the passenger door and locked the car. 

Then he turned to the tall office building and froze before a scowl twisted his features once again. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and his red eyes snapped to you. “You’re not afraid of heights are you?” 

“I… don’t think so,” you said with a frown. “I mean, I’ve been on roller coasters before, and I obviously flew here from America—” 

“Perfect,” the blond cut you off, shoving the bag of food at you again. “Take this.” 

“O-Okayyyy?” You tentatively wrapped your fingers around the plastic handles of the bag as you drew the food close to your chest. 

“Now, hop on,” he said as he turned around and crouched, his fingers starting to crackle with light and flares of heat. 

“Wh… what?!” Your whole body felt hot this time, not just your face. “Y-You want me… to get on your back?” 

“Again with the damn questions,” he growled, glaring over his shoulder at you. “If it will get you to move your ass faster, we’re eating on that roof, and unless you have wings under that sweater, I’m the only one who can get us up there, and I need my damn hands to use my quirk. So. Hop. On.” 

You gaped at the blond for a millisecond, a thousand more questions racing through your mind. Why the hell were you eating on a roof of a random building? Was this allowed? Why couldn’t you just go back to the agency? 

But you knew by the look on the blond’s face that he’d reached his limit with questions, so you could do nothing but comply. 

Just don’t think about it. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. 

You kept up this mantra in your head as you hesitantly approached the hero’s back. He had turned to look forward again, so at least his crimson eyes weren’t burning a hole into you as you carefully slid one hand onto his shoulder while you used the other to cradle the food against your stomach. 

You were just debating the best way to finish this embarrassing endeavor when you felt strong hands slide over the backs of your knees and pull you forward, startling a yelp out of you. 

“Jump,” Dynamight grunted, and you only had time to mindlessly obey as he straightened to his full height in one fluid motion. 

“Shit!” you couldn’t help but curse in English, hoping he couldn’t understand you. His hands helped to guide your legs around his waist, and you dug your left hand into his shoulder so you didn’t fall backward or crush the food that was nestled between the hero’s spine and your navel. 

A beat passed in silence as the two of you found your balance again. 

“I-I’m not too heavy, am I?” you murmured into the hero’s blond hair. Your throat felt tight with embarrassment, but when you went to swallow, your mouth was as dry as a desert. 

“Tch.” Dynamight clicked his tongue as he shifted your weight a little, his hands burning the backs of your thighs even through the thick denim of your jeans. “I could carry two of you without breaking a sweat. Don’t call me weak.” 

“I wasn’t!” you rushed to assure him. “I just meant—” 

“I know what you meant, shut up,” the blond cut you off, turning his head a fraction so his red eyes sliced into you. At this distance, his burnt sugar scent was almost overwhelming. “Do you have a good grip on me? And the food?” 

“Y-Yes,” you said as your heart began to pound against your sternum. You hoped he couldn’t feel it. 

“Make sure,” he growled, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs before he suddenly let go. 

A small gasp was ripped from you as you clenched your legs around his waist, and your left arm went from clutching his shoulder to wrapping around his neck. 

“Ack! Don’t choke me!” he huffed as he stretched his throat out of the way. 

Your right hand scrambled down a few inches, and you fisted the front of his hoodie, anchoring yourself across his chest as you sucked in your gut, leaned more into his spine, and tried not to crush the bag of food that was steadily making you sweat. 

“I-Is that okay?” you asked, your voice no more than a timid whisper. 

“Fine,” Dynamight said as he dropped his hands down by his hips, his palms crackling with energy once again. “Don’t fucking let go.” 

“I wo—OHHHH!” Your sentence trailed off into a startled scream as the hero suddenly exploded off the ground. 

His quirk made your ears ring, but you didn’t even have time to process that before you were thirty feet in the air. Every muscle in your body locked up in terror, and you were sure Dynamight was going to have bruises on his ribs from your legs clamping down around him like a vise. The wind tore at your hair and clothes, stinging the exposed skin of your face and neck, and you ducked your head against the hero’s blond hair as you clenched your eyes shut. 

Don’t let go, don’t let go, you chanted in your mind. 

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over, and you heard Dynamight extinguish his quirk an instant before his boots slammed into concrete. 

The two of you stood there for a moment as you panted against the back of his neck, your hammering heart still lodged in your throat, before the blond patted the side of your thigh. 

“You can get down now,” he said. “But don’t drop the damn food.” 

You peeled open your eyes with a shaky exhale, and you could feel your entire body trembling as you slowly slid down from the hero’s back. The crinkling bag drew your attention, and you had a split-second worry that you had crushed the food in your terror, but a quick inspection showed that while the containers were a little crumpled, no food was leaking out. 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Dynamight muttered before his boots started to crunch away from you. 

You snapped your head up and blindly followed after the blond, your eyes darting to the ground to make sure you didn’t trip over anything and then up to your surroundings to try and figure out where the hero was leading you. 

The answer, apparently, was to the very edge of the roof, and you wondered if the hero was going to make you hop on the Dynamight Express again, but instead he came to a stop beside a large electrical box. To your shock, he opened a small door on the tall metal rectangle and produced a thick, dark colored blanket, which he then threw down on the roof’s gravel. 

“Sit,” he grunted before he flopped to the ground, sighing as he stretched his legs out in front of him. 

There was about four or five feet between the electrical box and the edge of the roof, but the soles of Dynamight’s boots nearly brushed against the roof’s wall. 

Or they would have, if a three-foot section of the cement wall wasn’t missing right in front of him. The edges of the concrete partition looked suspiciously charred black, and you frowned at the sight. 

“Did you… blast a chunk out of this wall?” you asked as you slowly sank to your knees beside the blond. You were painfully aware of the void of protection in front of you, and you knew you were at least ten to fifteen stories above the street. But at least it wasn’t so cold up here, tucked into this little nook with the six-foot tall hero’s body heat helping to warm the air. 

“It was in the way,” Dynamight sneered, leaning over and snatching the plastic bag from where you had set it between the two of you. “And wipe that look off your face. I’m not gonna push you through the hole, and you’re not gonna fall with me here.” 

He didn’t look at you as he said this, too busy pulling out several food containers and spreading them out on the blanket, but the absolute surety, the confidence, in his voice actually eased some of the tension from your shoulders, and you sighed as you shifted onto your butt and leaned back against the electrical box. 

Now that you were seated in front of the hole, you realized this building gave you the perfect vantage point to the east. Most of the other structures were shorter than the one you currently sat on, so the streets stretched out before you like a map. The night sky was clear above you, devoid of clouds, nothing but a dark purple canvas sprinkled here and there with stars. But the moon was nearly full over your head, and its pale light was just enough to see by. You could see cars several blocks away cruising through the pools of lamplight, people waiting at bus stops or walking down the road to their next destination, and a realization came over you. 

“Oh, I see,” you murmured, still staring out at the view. “You must use this building as a perch during your hero patrols, right? You can see a lot from here.” 

“No shit.” Dynamight rolled his eyes as he opened one of the take-out containers. The smell of a well-made yakisoba hit your nostrils, and you watched as the blond ripped open a pair of chopsticks. He must have felt your gaze, though, because his red eyes snapped up and narrowed on you with a glare. “Quit starin’ at me and eat something. I didn’t go through all this damn trouble for nothing.” 

“R-Right.” You cleared your throat as you glanced between the other take-out boxes. “Was there something for me in particular, or…” 

“Just pick something!” he snapped before he shoved a bite of noodles into his scowling mouth. 

You pursed your lips as you reached for the closest container, flipping up the lid to find nearly a dozen yakitori skewers. Your stomach snarled and cramped as the roasted scent of the chicken filled your nose, and you could feel saliva pooling in your mouth. 

Grease immediately began to stain your fingers as you picked up one of the skewers, but you didn’t even care as you brought the kebab to your lips. You took a tentative bite to find the meat still pleasantly warm, but then a groan rumbled in the back of your throat as the flavor exploded across your tongue. 

“Mmmm, that is so good!” you mumbled around a mouthful as you ravenously tore off another bite. “It’s seasoned perfectly, and I like the bit of spice it has.” 

“Told you I don’t eat shitty food,” the blond scoffed before he reached over and snagged a piece of yakitori for himself. 

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, but you quickly covered it up by taking another bite of chicken. 

“Thank you for the meal, Dynamight,” you said once you finished the skewer, reaching for one of the other containers. This one turned out to be another plate of yakisoba, and you eagerly pulled it into your lap. 

Silence settled between the two of you for a minute, punctuated by the sounds of you both quietly chewing, before Dynamight broke it again. 

“Katsuki.” 

“Hmm?” you asked around a mouthful of noodles. When you lifted your head, your eyes clashed with glaring red ones barely two feet away, and you swallowed quickly so you wouldn’t choke. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“My name,” he grunted before ripping into another skewer, white teeth flashing in the pale moonlight. “It’s not Dynamight. It’s Katsuki Bakugo.” 

Another hot flash broke out across your body as his scarlet eyes bored into you, and you dropped your gaze to your lap. The blond was too close, his burnt sugar scent still strong beneath the aroma of food, and your brain struggled to come up with a response. 

“Katsuki Bakugo,” you murmured because you couldn’t help yourself, testing out the syllables on your tongue. 

You thought you saw the hero twitch out of the corner of your eye, but he might have just been taking another bite. 

“Yeah, and you better remember it,” the blond said after a moment, his tone adamant, commanding. 

Like there was any way you could forget his name. Japan’s Number Two Hero wasn’t exactly forgettable. 

You found it a little funny, though, that he was so weird about his own name after refusing to call you anything but “Stitches” so far. 

“I will,” you murmured, darting a glance at Dynamight—Katsuki? No, that felt too familiar. Bakugo, then—to find him still staring at you. 

The blond’s crimson gaze was piercing, pinning you to the spot, and you couldn’t look away. You thought he was going to say something, but his eyes only roamed over your face silently, like he was searching your features for an answer to a question he hadn’t voiced. His scrutiny unnerved you, made you fidget, and you played with your chopsticks to try and quell some of your nervous energy. 

Still, he didn’t say a word, but his red eyes began to narrow bit by bit. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you opened your mouth to say something, anything, before he beat you to it. 

“You have a healing quirk.” 

The words hit you like a sledgehammer. 

Your heart slammed to a stop in your chest, and you inhaled so fast it was almost a scream. A million thoughts, excuses, and lies scrambled through your head, but the hero didn’t even give you time to grasp at any of them. 

“Don’t deny it,” he said, face twisting into his usual scowl. “Fuckin’ hate liars. I know you have a healing quirk.” 

The blunt confirmation, after so long worrying, felt almost like a relief, but it was quickly followed by a deluge of dread. 

He knew, he knew, he knew. The truth blared through your head like a siren. There really was no running from it now. 

“Well?” Dynamight—Bakugo—demanded as he glared at you. “Are you going to answer?” 

“You didn’t ask me a question.” The words fell from your mouth without your permission, and you winced as the blond’s expression darkened. 

“Fine,” he growled. “Do you have a healing quirk or not?” 

“…yes.” There was nothing else for you to say, so you just stared at the pro hero as the noose tightened around your neck. 

“I knew it.” A wild smirk stretched across Bakugo’s mouth, triumphant and proud. 

“How?” you couldn’t help but ask as you clenched your hands in your lap, the food long since forgotten. Your stomach was churning itself into knots anyway, but a morbid part of you just had to know what was the final nail in the coffin that had sealed your fate. 

“How what? Did I figure it out?” the blond asked as he lazily picked up another skewer and took a bite, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he didn’t hold your whole world in the palm of his calloused hand. “Because I’m not a blind idiot.” 

“I’m serious,” you said with a frown, digging your nails into your palms. 

“So am I,” Bakugo scoffed, and his red eyes found yours again. “If you’re going to lie, at least do it right. That night in your apartment, you said I wasn’t really hurt, didn’t bleed that much, but your hands and my clothes were soaked with it. Way too much for the stupid paper cuts or whatever you blamed it on. The burns on my left arm were better off than they should have been, too, but I knew you were lying before I even noticed any of that shit. I knew the second you opened your mouth.” 

You cringed with guilt, dropping your gaze to your fidgeting fingers. So, all your lies had been futile from the start. “Was it something in my tone or…?” 

“Well, stuttering over your words with your guilty ass face didn’t do you any favors, but no,” the blond grunted. “It wasn’t your tone, it was…” 

Here, the pro hero trailed off, and he was quiet for so long that you chanced a glance at him. 

Bakugo was frowning off into the distance, staring out over the city without seeing. You could tell he was struggling with something, and since you were obviously a masochist, you pressed him about it. 

“It was…?” you led and then had to stifle a gasp as the blond snapped his head around to glare at you. 

“You can’t say shit about this,” he snarled and bared his teeth like a cornered animal, and you distantly noted that his canines were more pointed and pronounced than what was usual. Then his next words stabbed into you, sharp and serrated, and dragged you back to the conversation. “Do you hear me, Stitches? You don’t say shit to anyone. If you do, I’ll kill you.” 

You blanched at the seriousness of his tone, the sharpness of his eyes, and a nervous laugh was startled out of you. 

“I’m obviously not in a position to say anything against you, Dyna—er, Bakugo,” you said, adding the “-sama” honorific after his name as a show of deference. “You could have me arrested or even deported for using my quirk on you without permission or a license.” 

“Damn right I could,” he huffed as he narrowed his eyes at you, but some of the tension and anger left the lines of his face. “But I’m not gonna do any of that shit because I need—you are going to help me.” 

“Help you?” you echoed in an incredulous tone. “What could I possibly help you with?” 

Bakugo glared at you as the muscle in his jaw worked, like he was chewing over his words, before he finally spat them out. 

“My ears. The reason I knew you were lying immediately was because I could hear you.” 

Your frown deepened as you processed his words. “You remember losing your hearing?” 

“Remember it?” The blond scowled at you. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I remember being fuckin’ deaf!” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, waving your hands in front of you. “I just—right after you crashed through my window, you woke up for a second, but you were disoriented. I was trying to tell you that you beat the villain before I saw the blood coming out of your ears and realized you must have blown your eardrums. Then you passed out, and when you woke up again, a-after I… healed you, you asked about the villain a second time, so I just assumed you didn’t remember waking up the first time.” 

Bakugo frowned at you, pale eyebrows furrowing over crimson eyes. “I woke up more than once? Yeah, I don’t remember that shit.” 

“Wait…” You blinked and pursed your lips as you tried to understand what he was saying. “If you don’t remember that, how do you remember losing your hearing?” 

“Because my hearing was shot to shit before I even ran into that damn villain,” Bakugo growled, and his face tightened again as he turned away from you. “Couldn’t even hear my quirk activate anymore.” 

He held up his hand to demonstrate, and flashes of light crackled to life in his palm like mini fireworks. The hero’s expression grew strange as he stared at the visual manifestation of his quirk, but then he clenched his fist and extinguished the sparks. 

Meanwhile, you felt your jaw gape open as your eyes widened. “You… how long has your hearing been in decline?” 

The blond ground his jaw so hard you could hear the scrape of his teeth, and he glared off into the middle distance for so long that you just assumed he wasn’t going to answer you. 

Then… 

“Fuckin’ years, I dunno,” he muttered as he pulled one of his long legs up, balancing his forearm against his knee and pressing his mouth into the back of his wrist. “Didn’t notice it at first, but it probably started at UA, once I was able to use my quirk more regularly.” 

Ohhh, of course. Your eyes dropped to the clenched fist in his lap, and you remembered the boom that made your ears ring as the hero flew you both up here. It had been so loud, and to think of experiencing that multiple times a day, at close range, for years apparently since you knew UA was a famous high school here in Japan… 

“Did you see a doctor?” You frowned, glancing up at the blond as his gaze snapped back to yours. 

“Tch, doctors,” Bakugo sneered, disgust glinting in his crimson eyes. “Fuckin’ useless pieces of shit. I left a good-for-nothing white coat’s office the afternoon I ran into that asphalt villain. Idiot doctor said most of my hearing was just gone, I was going to lose the rest, and there was shit all he could do. Then, few hours later, you patched me up in fuckin’ seconds, so I know that bastard was full of shit.” 

All you could do was blink rapidly at the pro hero as you tried to process all this information. Japan’s Number Two Hero had been going deaf for years, and no one had noticed? You knew that would have definitely made the news, let alone the gossip magazines. What’s more, a doctor said his hearing was a lost cause, and yet… 

“How well can you hear now?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. You hadn’t even intended to heal his ears that night, it had just been a side effect of you dumping your energy into his body in order to keep him breathing. 

“Dunno, haven’t exactly done a hearing test,” the blond scoffed and rolled his eyes. “But I can hear you just fine, my phone, too, and my quirk. I’d say that’s good enough.” 

You pursed your lips in thought, studying the hero like he’d been studying you all night, and then you remembered what had started this whole conversation. 

“Okay…” you said slowly. “Well, if you’re hearing is… fine now, what am I supposed to help you with?” 

“Keeping it that way, obviously.” He glared at you. “You’re gonna be stuck at the agency for the next few weeks anyway, so you need to make sure my ears stay working.” 

You gaped at the pro-hero, wondering if you were suddenly losing your hearing. 

“M-Me?” you stammered as your heart crawled up your throat. “B-But I… I’m not a doctor.” 

“No shit,” he said, apparently a favorite phrase of his, and he looked at you like you were a particularly dumb child. “I don’t need a doctor, I told you they’re fuckin’ useless. I just need your quirk.” 

“But…” you trailed off in disbelief. Out of all the outcomes you’d envisioned for this night, this had never even crossed your mind as anything in the realm of possibility. “I’m… not a hero. I don’t have a license to use my quirk.” 

Bakugo stared at you in silence for an endless moment before his upper lip curled into a snarl. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he hissed. “I know all that!” 

“W-Well, I don’t know what you want then!” you said, your voice rising in pitch and volume to match his. 

The echoes of your words ricocheted around you before they faded off into the night, and the blond clenched his jaw as he glared at you. 

“I want you to use your quirk anyway,” he said, the low growl of his tone vibrating through you. You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off mid inhale. “And don’t start bitching about rules. You’ve been using your quirk illegally already. That kid and his old hag of a grandma are patients of yours, aren’t they?” 

Your jaw snapped closed with an audible click, and a smirk bloomed across the blond’s pale lips. 

“Hah,” he snorted. “Knew it.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” you gritted out, and your breathing grew shallow. 

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his smirk taking on a taunting edge. “You really gotta work on your poker face, Stitches.” 

Your vision started to tunnel, interspersed with flashes of Tadashi and Ayano’s faces. “The Kojimas have nothing to do—” 

“Oh, calm the fuck down,” he cut you off as he rolled his eyes again. “I’m not gonna turn a grandma and a kid into the cops. Especially not for doing the same shit we’re going to do.” 

A knot of tension unraveled beside your heart, but your insides still felt more tangled up than a yarn ball being batted around by a crazed kitten. 

“Thank you,” you murmured with a sigh, dropping your eyes to where your fingers were picking at the frayed hem of your sweater. 

“I don’t need your gratitude,” he scoffed. “I just need—” 

“My quirk.” You were the one to cut him off this time, and you lifted your gaze to his again. 

“Yeah,” he said as he narrowed those scarlet eyes at you like a predator zeroing in on its prey. “So, is that your way of saying you’ll do it?” 

You bit your lip as you considered your options, but really, you didn’t have any. Dynamight was a famous, rich pro hero with all the leverage. He could ruin your life… but he wasn’t. He was instead providing a trade. 

His silence for your quirk. 

The Kojimas flashed through your mind again, as did your other “patients,” as the blond called them. You thought of your parents, too, and your grandparents. If you agreed to the hero’s proposition, you wouldn’t have to return to America as a failure, and after a few weeks, you could reopen your family’s legacy shop. 

And, in the meantime, you still got to use your quirk. You could heal, actually be useful. Even more than that, Japan’s Number Two Hero was relying on you. 

You didn’t know if you were up to the task, having never used your quirk beyond minor instances that were usually days or weeks in between each other. 

But… 

“Yes,” you finally said as you looked up into Katsuki Bakugo’s face. “I’ll help you.” 

You just hoped you didn’t hang yourself in the process.

[apixrl]

MORNING CUDDLES.

eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 2.8k

note(s): eiji and his partner call each other love 25/8 and no u cannot tell me otherwise >:(

italian translation - translator !!

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

Your hand snuck its way out from under the duvet, blindly searching for your phone in order to shut off the nuisance that was your alarm. Once you did, you slowly let your eyes drift open and meet the blank canvas of the ceiling above.

The sun was peeking through the blinds off to the left side, causing streaks of light to form on your bedroom walls and bed itself. None of them obstructed your vision luckily, there was nothing worse than lying in bed only to have the sun blind you. A light snore interrupted your tiredness and caused your eyes to open wider, directing them off to the right to meet that of your boyfriend, Eijirou.

As per usual, he looked at peace during his state of slumber. His mouth hung slightly open to reveal his iconic sharpened teeth as snores broke through them. His usual gelled up hair was now ironed down to structure his face and practically conceal it with the amount there. It swept over one of his eyes - though didn't stop the scar on his right one peeking through. The rest of his hair was mushed up between his cheek and the pillow his head lay on.

You smiled at the sight, losing yourself in his handsomeness for a moment before leaning forwards to peck his forehead softly. You then pulled back the covers on your side, making an effort (reluctantly) to sit yourself up and swing your legs over the end of the bed. Just as you were about to find the means to stand, something tugged you back causing you to gasp. It was only when Eijirou's voice hit your ear that you processed what happened.

"Morning," The redhead let out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual to signal the classic case of morning croak, something you always loved to hear first thing. An arm snaked around your front to pull you back against Eijirou's abdomen. With a little smile, you turned your face to the love of your life, who was tiredly gazing at you.

"Good morning," You faintly sang. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhhm," Eijirou replied, using his spare hand to reach up and rub his waking eyes at the same time as he released a mighty yawn. "You?"

"Like a baby," Was your answer as Eijirou allowed his hand to gently graze your forearm affectionately. You hummed softly, not wanting to move one bit from the comfort. If anything, you would have liked to have remained under his touch the entire day. Something about his subtle physical signs of adoration brought you head over heels for him, even more so than you already were. But you knew it couldn't last forever. So after a minute of sweet quiet, you proceeded to shift forwards to try and get up. Only to find the grip on you tighten and a disgruntled noise of protest to leave Eijirou's throat.

"Love, I gotta get up," You spoke and turned back to him with a sigh. "I've got that meeting at 10, remember?"

"No," Was the only thing you received back from your partner. Eijirou looked up gently into your E/C eyes. "Five more minutes?"

At first, you went to say a flat no, mainly because you'd expected him to act like this despite knowing full well you were going out. But you eventually concluded on a compromise to try and be smart about it. Fingers playing with the sheets of your bed, you spoke up once more.

"How about you let me go grab us a hot drink and then five more minutes?" It seemed to do the trick. Eijirou paused in thought before gently mumbling an 'okay', the grip on you loosening to give you the freedom to stand up. Once you stood upright you looked back to Eijirou, who was following your every move through tired red eyes.

"I'll come back in sec okay?"

"You better,"

This clingy side to Eijirou usually came out on the first day or two of him having time off work. Since he was a Pro-Hero he could sometimes be working days on end without a break, so moments like this the pair of you really treasured to maintain a healthy relationship. You smiled during your trip to the kitchen, his touch still on your mind as you started to prepare yourself a steaming F/H/D and a simple black coffee for Eijirou.

On your way back to the bedroom you made a pit stop to go to the toilet and somewhat freshen yourself up. All you did was brush your hair and wash your face (you planned to do make-up later) and then you were heading back to Eijirou. You opened the door with your foot since both hands were occupied by mugs.

"I told you I wasn't going to be long,"

"It was too long," His voice came from the bundle of covers, a head poking out from under as you saw a flash of a toothy grin. It was more tired than usual but still held the same passion nonetheless.

"Somebody's impatient,"

"Whatever. Now let me use you as a pillow," Eijirou uttered, waiting for you to put the drinks down and to get into bed. Pulling back the cream covers of your shared bed you were soon engulfed by arms as a head found refuge on your chest.

"Happy?" You said with a laugh. Eijirou nodded and let his eyes close, listening to the sound of your heartbeat against his cheek with a soft grin. He then felt himself get even more at home when your fingertips guided themselves to play with the ends of his hair.

"Yes,"

---

"Come on, Eijirou... I need to go get ready," You whined, rolling your eyes at the silence you received back. Only the soft and light pecks of kisses landing on your shoulder blade signalled Eijirou's distraction, almost pretending to be deaf for his own personal benefit. You rolled back in order to make him stop, looking up at Eijirou in protest. At first, he sent you a nearly offended gaze at daring to make such a movement, claiming he wasn't finished and had intentions of carrying on. Though slowly his jaw altered to a pout, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear.

"Do you have to go?" Eijirou mumbled and leaned down to peck your lips.

"Yes, I do," You answered.

"Can't you just call in sick or something?"

"I already did that three weeks ago... so probably not,"

"Please?"

"I said I can't. Now get up, lazy bones,"

You went to get up once more, this time forcing yourself through the gripping fingers and hands of Eijirou to escape the bed. When you came out successful you released a small laugh of triumph much to Eijirou's dismay. It was there you walked to your closet and took the clothes hanging over the door on a clothing hanger, looking back at Eijirou whose face had now emerged further from under the covers to watch you.

"Is it even an important meeting, love?" Eijirou said, eyes following as you shuffled back to the bed and put the clothes at the bottom. You released a sigh as you turned to put the clothing hanger back in the closet, not aware of the cheap move Eijirou made when you weren't looking and instead answered his question.

"Not really? But because I missed the last one - no thanks to you, I think it'd be better I should get to this one," Wandering back to the bed, slipping off the shirt you'd stolen off Eijirou the night before as you did, Eijirou rolled his eyes and undermined your words.

"So... miss this one and go to the next,"

"As I recall you said that last time and promised you wouldn't say it when it occurred again... but here we are," There was a little smirk on your face when you caught him rolling his eyes, and in response, you playfully tossed the shirt you'd had on at the redhead. Eijirou snickered and managed to catch it before it hit his face, going to crumple it into a ball and place it next to him.

"You throw like a girl,"

"And you scream like one, doofus,"

"I'm not a doofus... doofus,"

Eijirou couldn't help but smirk in amusement at you, his face lighting up all the more into a bright beam when he heard a laugh release on your part. You were just finishing buttoning up your collar shirt as Eijirou watched, arms crossing over his chest. He cocked his head back against the headrest as well as to the side in thought.

"I ever tell you that you look good in shirts like that?" The redhead stated, receiving a glare that had formed on your face.

"Don't you get any ideas,"

"Wasn't suggesting any, just stating the obvious," He raised his arms in defence as you sat down on the bed by his legs, reaching for the blazer.

"That's also something you said last time and look what happened there - wait where's my...?" You were one sleeve through your blazer when you noticed that one of your pieces of clothing was missing. The navy blue pencil skirt that matched your top half to be more specific. You looked behind and around you, and also to the closet thinking you forgot to grab it with everything else, proceeding to frown in thought.

You swore you hung it up there and -

With a heavy exhale, you felt your body twist around and turn to a particularly quiet Eijirou sitting behind you.

His expression read it all like he was trying to be both obvious and mysterious all in one go in order to get you to question him. It most definitely worked, a hand meeting your hip as you stood upright and quirked a quizzical brow.

"Eiji?"

"Hm? What is it, dearest?"

"Can I have my skirt back please?"

"What do you mean? I don't have your skirt," His growing smirk and amusement in his eyes betrayed his words, refusing to make eye contact with you in a playful manner you'd seen countless times before.

"Okay, so where is it then?"

"I don't know," He innocently shrugged. "Maybe the skirt fairy came and took it,"

"The skirt fairy," You repeated, disbelief laced in your voice.

"Yep," He said through a laugh. "I don't know what to tell you, love. There can't be any other explanation,"

"Just give me back my skirt before I get behind on time,"

"I don't have it,"

"Yes, you do,"

"No, I don't,"

"Don't make me jump you, bitch,"

"I honestly wouldn't com- oof!"

Before Eijirou could finish his sentence, he only just managed to catch you when you pounced at him without remorse. Luckily he just managed to protect himself and readjusted your intended position, victoriously smirking up at you and pointing a finger.

"Hah! Not this time!"

"I hate you sometimes,"

"No, you don't. You love me,"

"I swear to god -," You let out, arms crossing over your chest. Eijirou had sat you on top of him, legs on either side of him as he remained under the covers. "Can I please just have my skirt back?"

"You mean the one that's under the sheets by my feet?" He blankly stated, letting his hands rest themselves on your hips quite comfortably. He couldn't help but laugh at your less than amused expression.

"Why can't you just let me get ready?"

"I'm not stopping you... I'm just making it more difficult,"

"Educate me on how?"

"Well the only way to get your skirt is to get back into bed... and if you get back into bed I'm not letting you get back out,"

"You're really being this persistent, hm?"

"Maybe a little more than intended,"

You hopelessly sighed, looking at the ceiling with a mental cry of both impatience and leisure. The inner want to go to your wardrobe and pull out a fresh skirt was the easy way out, yes, but the temptation of the game Eijirou intended to play was getting to you more than expected. That and you knew he wouldn't let you simply get off him, the grip on your waist not only implying endearing affection.

Eijirou raised his voice, reeling you back to his attention. Despite your annoyance, you did make an effort to admire his features. From his loose hair to his fixed jawline where the tint of a smirk riddled with confidence rested. The pretty glow in his carmine gaze drew you in each time without a fault. He was so undeniably attractive, no doubt about it.

"You know what sounds fun?"

"What?" Partly having a sense of what was to leave his lips.

"If you...," He paused as he subtly cocked his head at you. "Stayed in bed and cuddled with me all morning," Another pause. "Because I haven't seen you in four or five days and I miss you,"

"But we watched a movie and spent some time together last night knowing I was going out today,"

"Yeah but... you're cute on a morning,"

"Opposed to other times when I'm not?" It was Eijirou's turn to send you a little glare in protest before he returned to his pleading nature.

"You're cute all the time,"

Yet another few seconds of quiet.

"Just - stay with me today? And do your meeting-thingy tomorrow?"

"You, Eijirou Kirishima, are going to be the death of me," Leaning down to rest your forehead on Eijirou's shoulder whilst releasing a long groan from the back of your throat. Maybe not so great of an idea since that allowed him to wrap you right into his grasp, you held yourself there briefly as he allowed his fingertips to mess with your hair.

"Probably," Eijirou mumbled softly, tilting his head against yours as he once again let his touch wander. The unexpected cuddle definitely didn't go unnoticed as you pondered in your position, practically ready to fall asleep when Eijirou started to rub up and down your back. Like a moth to a flame, he had you wrapped around his finger, knowing that in the end, he was always going to get his own way. Of course, in other circumstances, he'd usually let you win. But not when it came to morning cuddles.

Definitely not when it came to morning cuddles.

As if waiting for you to talk, Eijirou stared into your strands of H/C hair whilst inhaling the scent of coconut from the shampoo you used the evening prior. He expectantly caressed your hip, his final attempt to win you over confidently coming to a climax at the word that exited your mouth.

"Fine,"

You could practically feel the smirk against the back of your head as Eijirou's touch became all the more prominent and rewarding. He let one of his arms extend out to grab your phone, handing it over to you as you hesitantly sat up with a hotness to your cheeks and found the contact of your workplace.

Eijirou simply watched you the whole time, taking you all in like he was casting gaze upon you for the first time. No matter how many times that happened, he still managed to find you all the more beautiful. He ran a hand through his flattened hair and exhaled merrily as he let your voice sink into his ears, watching the smile on your face grow as you caught him looking.

"Yeah - Again, I'm really sorry I can't make it, Eijirou caught something whilst working and he's bound to the bed cause' of it," You held up crossed fingers in hopes you wouldn't sound like you were lying, glancing at your boyfriend who appeared to chuckle.

And yet again your lie went unnoticed. The call was over in seconds, tossing your phone to the empty side of the bed.

"Why'd you say I was sick?"

"Because if I said it was me they'd probably ask about the last time you forced me to stay off, and how often I'm apparently unwell,"

"Right,"

"But, it looks like you got your way," You said, going to change out the white shirt to put your pyjama shirt back on, placing the work clothes to the bottom of the bed as Eijirou waited patiently.

"Come," Was all he said once you looked back at him, opening his arms for you to sink into. Which you did, reaching that comfortable position within his grasp as though you belonged there. Except this time, Eijirou directed your face towards his, pulling your lips to his in one smooth addicting manner that you felt butterflies in your stomach for.

In the meantime your drinks were disregarded as the clock ticked on, the pair of you forgetting their presence on the bedside table. The steam soon dissipated to nothing the cooler the fluids got.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you,"

He could sense the smile that formed on your lips.

"I love you too,"

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Worthy (pt6)

A/N: once again - just keep poking me until I start tagging you if you want tagged. @rampant-salamander​, @bolontiku​

...

I looked from Tony to Thor and back to Tony.

“I don’t understand your question,” I responded, and threw back the drink. To hell with being moderate. I was pretty sure I was about to lose my dream job on my second day, I may as well go out with a bang.

“Ella, there has to be something special about you to allow you to lift that hammer,” Tony spoke slowly. That was probably a bad thing. I suspected slow speech meant a really active brain. I was now a mystery that needed to be solved.

“There is nothing special about me at all,” I argued.

“You can lift Mjolnir. That is special.” Thor was like a sage who spoke in riddles.

“But being able to lift Mjolnir isn’t what makes me special enough to lift it. That’s a redundancy.” I, like Tony, was slipping into scientific method in order to try to sort things out.

“Do you have Aesir blood, Ella?” Thor asked.

“My family is from Washington. By way of Wisconsin,” I replied. Tony snorted and Thor shot him a dirty look.

“Before this Wisconsin?” He pressed. The way he said Wisconsin made it sound unfamiliar and strange.

“Norway and England.”

“Norway. That is where the Northmen resided.” Thor looked thoughtful. “In the time of the Vikings, the Aesir traveled on Midgard much more frequently than they do now.”

“Are you suggesting that some ancestor of mine got knocked up by a god?” I could feel my eyebrow rising. Tony smothered a smirk behind his hand. My tone was lost on Thor.

“We are not gods, Ella,” Thor corrected. “And I am unfamiliar with knocked up. What I suggest is that your ancestor was impregnated by an Aesir.”

“But in order to lift your hammer, wouldn’t it have to be you that got this mystery ancestor pregnant? I’d have to be your descendent?” I could feel the blood draining from my face. It would be just my luck that the hottest guy I’d ever seen would be related to me. Thor’s smile was mischievous.

“Not necessarily. I would have discovered offspring of mine on Midgard by now, and I know left none. But I think it reasonable to consider you may have Aesir blood in your veins,” he explained. “Which makes you very special indeed.”

“Can everyone in Asgard lift your hammer?” I asked. Thor shook his head.

“None but I.”

“Then I don’t buy it. I keep telling people, I’m nothing special.” I was getting frustrated with the scrutiny. I never thought I would be desperate for a cute guy to stop paying attention to me, but in that moment, I would have given anything to be able to just go hide in obscurity in the lab, building my washing machine.

“But that’s where you’re wrong, Ella,” Tony interrupted. I’d nearly forgotten he was there, Thor had such powerful bearing. I didn’t think it was possible to lose track of Tony Stark, but I guess in the presence of not-actually-gods… “You are something special. That’s why Pepper and I lept on your application like we did. How did you make it through university with such a bad self image?”

“I don’t have a bad self image. I know I’m a fucking amazing engineer. I just fail to see a correlation between my ability to understand math and build things and my purported mystical ability to lift a magic hammer,” I snapped. I turned back to Thor. “You’re sure no one else can lift it?” Thor glanced at Tony, almost as though he was looking for approval. Tony gave a slight nod.

“I believe that Captain Rogers would be able to lift it, should he have the opportunity. But that remains untested,” Thor admitted. I sighed.

“Of course. He’s a legit hero. Full of righteousness and honour and nobility.” My tone was more sarcastic than I’d intended.

“Yes, intangible and arbitrary measures of worthiness. Who is to say you don’t meet the parameters in some way?” Thor shot back. I looked into my empty glass, wishing it were still full.

“Did you not see me level that d-bag in the elevator?”

“Tis nothing I would not have done myself, and yet I am still worthy,” Thor shrugged. Pepper had walked in at some point during the conversation, and Tony turned to her expectantly. She sighed and blinked slowly.

“We’ve had a discussion about appropriate professional behaviour. He is aware that if there are any further incidents he will lose his internship.” Pepper reached out for the glass of wine Tony was offering her.

“It’s a bit of a PR nightmare if we lose a second intern in as many days, Pep,” Tony commented.

“It’s a worse nightmare if, right as we’re rolling out a gender equality program and girl’s STEM mentorship program, the media gets ahold of information about how we’re allowing someone guilty of sexual harassment to remain in a prestigious and competitive internship,” she retorted. He pursed his lips and paused. After a moment he nodded in agreement.

“What do I know? You’re the boss.” His acquiescence was met with laughter from Pepper.

“What do you know, Tony? How many times did you attend the SHIELD seminar again?” She choked on her wine. “Trust me. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s a smart guy, and I’d like to think he’ll be respectful from now on.” Tony responded with some other comment and I slumped back into my seat, watching the show. If you didn’t know they were stupidly in love with one another, you might assume they were on the verge of war. But I think Tony liked to goad Pepper, and she rose to the bait. Not because she was gullible though. At least, I didn’t think it was because she was easily duped. I think she rose to the bait because it was how they clicked together. I looked away from them and over to Thor, who was sitting back on the couch, completely relaxed. The hammer was propped up beside him, handle leaning against the bolster. It was uncanny how powerful he looked, even in jeans and a t-shirt. I relaxed a little and just enjoyed looking at him, taking in the contours of his biceps, and the definition of the veins in his hands. There was a lot of him to look at, and it was all very pleasing to the eye. At least, everything I’d seen thus far.

I didn’t realize how overt I was being until he smirked. He turned to look at me, and nodded.

“Is it not considered poor manners on Midgard to stare at others?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, but I blinked and looked away, feeling my cheeks colour.

There was really no way for me to deny that I was staring at him. The only blank wall in the entire place was right behind him. I couldn’t even beg being distracted by some of the weird art that seemed to be all over the building. 

“I, uh, well,” I stammered. “I was looking at the hammer?” It sounded like bullshit, even to me. I heard a stifled laugh from Tony and shot him a filthy look. I pushed myself to my feet and glanced at Pepper. “If you don’t need me, Pepper, I’m going to try to catch up with Angela. I have some things I need to pick up for my suite.”

“You can order anything you need from distribution,” Tony offered.

“Except, apparently, towels bigger than a postage stamp,” I retorted. My ears were burning and I was having a really hard time not looking over to see if Thor was following the conversation. He probably was as there was no one else for him to pay attention to.

“You are aware there’s varying sizes of towel?” Tony’s tone was sarcastic. I rolled my eyes.

“Not that this is really a conversation I feel I want to have with my boss, but I grabbed the biggest one. It still barely covered me.” I was ready to pray for a hole to open in the floor and swallow me.

“Well, you’re not exactly supposed to be lounging around in your tow –“

“I wasn’t!” I interrupted. “I was just getting out of the shower when Thor showed up and I didn’t have time to be getting fully dressed before I answered the door, and then the towel slipped and oh my god I cannot believe I’m telling you all this.” I took a deep breath and looked back to Pepper. “Can I go? Please?”

“Let me walk you to the elevator,” she offered and led the way. As we walked away, I heard Tony clear his throat.

“You’ve seen her naked already, you sly dog?”

“That is enough, Stark. How you have lived so many years on this realm and not noticed how modest some of your women are, I have no idea. But you embarrassed her. Like many Midgardians, she lacks comfort with the physical form.” Thor’s words were a chastisement, and I somehow felt even more embarrassed about him having seen me naked. Because now, not only was I naked in front of the freaking Norse god of thunder, but also he took more notice of what a prude I am than that I was naked. I leaned against the wall and banged my head against it.

“That’s not how you call the elevator,” Pepper teased. “I know we all collectively keep telling you to relax, but, yeah. Relax. If Tony is already giving you a hard time, he’s assimilating you into his world as a permanent fixture. This will be something you laugh about in future years.” Her eyes were warm with empathy and it was so reassuring.

“You seriously need to do something about the towel situation, Pepper.” I stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. Once the doors shut, I texted Angela to see how far she’d got without me. I didn’t have to wait long. I was swiping my passcard to get into my room when she stepped off the elevator.

“So, towels? Maybe a beer?” She followed me into my apartment.

“Yes. To both.”

XXX

For whatever reason, I expected getting beer with Angela would be more Sex-in-the-City than it was. She pulled me into a quiet bar after we’d found appropriate towels, and we ordered wings from the kitchen and beer.

“So I did some research today while you were meeting with Markus,” she volunteered over a heap of wing bones. I made a noise that was easily interpretable as curiosity and she continued. “I might have hacked some of Tony’s files about that hammer. Thor wasn’t kidding around when he said you shouldn’t be able to lift it. It was apparently forged in the heart of a dying star, of some crazy space-metal. And the Odin enchanted it so only Thor could lift it. Which is clearly a broken enchantment because apparently you can lift it too.”

“It says right on it that if you’re worthy, you can lift it,” I corrected her with my mouth full.

“Obviously it doesn’t take table manners into consideration!” She laughed. I hung my head in mock-shame, but made sure my mouth was clear before I spoke again.

“I don’t know how it determines worthiness. Honestly, isn’t that a little creepy? Is the hammer sentient? Does it consider the merits of each individual that touches it in that split second between grabbing it and trying to lift it? Or does Odin have some sort of approval system for worthiness, and he gets interrupted from whatever it is he’s doing to approve people in that same fraction of an instant?” I pondered.

“Way to ruin magic with science,” she groaned.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. That’s Clarke’s Third Law. The other two are pretty good too,” I shrugged.

“Oh, that was a kill shot! Come on, let me have some sort of fantasy about the mystical powers of the damn hammer, Ella!” Angela threw her hands up in frustration. I smiled and nodded.

“Of course. The hammer is mystical and powerful and absolutely should not be questioned,” I acceded. Angela swatted at me and flagged the waitress over for another round. I felt myself relaxing and forgetting about the overwhelming stress of the past couple of days as we decompressed over a second beer. When Angela dropped me back at the tower, I realized she may very well live on-site as well, but I was tired and had a bit of a beer buzz and forgot to ask before stumbling through my door and crashing on the sofa.

[fandom-sheep]

Eret 11 MAY 21

Cat and DSMP Part 1/1

Cat! Goose!

Goose my beloved.

Eret’s streaming very late for me again. So I’m not staying the whole time.

Hello Elaina. Enjoy Goose.

Fundy! Kinda...

Fundy hearing the donations. LOL.

Fundy enters a stream and it starts to scuffed. Scuffed just follows Fundy wherever he goes.

A wild my beloved on the cube.

The Drista stairs.

Wait what. Why is the tower gone?

I have missed some lore.

Ah... it’s part of the nightmare thing.

Eret offering Fundy housing like a good almost adoptive parent.

Sneeze? OH WOW SNEEZE.

Sounds like Fundy about lost a lung. Good gracious.

The bargaining between these two.

Cat, Handsome, said cube was massive

You know what that works.

It’s hard to keep the audio right for Eret’s stream for my headphones. It’s either too quiet or the loudest my headphones can go and my family can hear it.

On stream explosions. Noice.

Wow youtooz. Not super cool. Permission is usually a good thing.

Eret keeps on sizzling.

Getting dirt for scaffolding. Going old fashioned Minecraft for this.

“Why is the Cube kinda hot” cue Eret losing faith in her chats sanity.

Cube go poof.

Oh. Red stone. That’s dangerous.

I like this song. Oh klahoma. Gorgeous song.

Love joy is such a fun band. I want to make a plushy of the cat.

It’s kinda sad that Eret can’t see themselves the way chat and their little fandom sees them. Most all of us think they look fabulous.

Not Arson. Just bombing. A bit of anarchy by the king.

Demolition. Now there’s the word.

Controlled ish demolition.

Ah I’ve almost saved enough channel points for water. Nice. I’m not going to redeem it I’m just going to keep hoarding the points.

Flame Arrow. Nice.

Eret cleaning up the SMP eye sours.

Watch me attempt to sleep to Eret here in an hour or so, but keep getting distracted.

Explosion time.

Someone get ready to clip it.

Bye Bye Cube. Let’s go.

Gotta get a song that fits the vibe.

Hayloft. Time to go poof.

Turning up my brightness just to watch this explosion in the best way possible.

Still wearing the red dress I see.

I hope the music isn’t too loud to get this part muted.

Drum roll...

Drum roll continues...

Drum roll still going...

THERE GOES THE CUBE!

That was so smooth and good looking!

Overall a very good explosion.

Just a little bit of a hole in the other building.

Twitch Pr-

Poor being’s so confused with his hair. Someone help them.

Twitch bleep.

Everyone attempting to give hair styling advice. Everyone’s trying to help the being.

That bird is majestic. I remember seeing that tiktok.

Animals just decided Eret was the animal whisperer.

Yes! Disney Princess Eret fanart! Someone make it, I shall reblog all of it.

Likes to hug cute animals and cute animals like being hugged by her. Nice.

It’s alright. Names are difficult. I have to like put name tags on people to learn who they are. That or name tags on their space (like on campers bunks and door decs on dorms)

It does feel very February. But I’m very ready for summer because that means I get to do my favorite job.

Hooray. I hit 15k points.

Eret trying to prove to us a ponytail won’t work. Like we aren’t going to hype them up no matter what.

Gotta heart in the chat. All Eret’s chat does is hearts and encourage. It’s a lovely place.

Oh Eret forgot his cat ear sub goal. It’s alright I know I forgot.

Pride is next month. Nice.

Oh. We’re almost halfway already. Why does the world spin so quickly?

We forgot a dirt tower. Whoops.

I would wear Eret merch. I like it when people release merch around Christmas. Then I can ask for it as a gift.

Oh it wasn’t a dirt tower.

Just looking at Elaina’s stream in the stream selection screen it like very cozy.

All the way up the Drista stairs.

Look it’s the museum!

Eret’s got most of the builds around there. The museum. The fortress. Nice.

Some things are too historical to remove. Somethings are historical because they are being removed.

Oh no. L’sandburg.

It’s taking over the summer home.

Ah the lore is coming. It just seemed to be too early.

Hello unofficial ranboo Raiders.

Foolish making the awesome tall thingy!

Foolish’s builds are so neat. I want to watch Foolish’s streams more. Maybe just in the background but I start wanting to delayed liveblog and that requires attention.

Oh the giant portal turned out well. Sorry that was the lady’s foolish stream I watched.

Shulkers. The forbidden mob.

Eret with just a pit in the desert filled with llamas. Bones. And discus.

The mansion has been finished?

Alright is better than bad. It’s alright to be alright.

Lucky being not getting tired. I got the Johnson and Johnson vaccine and I was so so tired. I also had just no appetite.

Eret doing an smp tour. And looking at foolish’s builds.

Flickering the switch on the rainbow beacons.

Eret just knowing where everything is.

Kinoko is super pretty. Just for the aesthetic value of the kingdom I appreciate it.

Yeet. Just defenestrated himself out the window.

Oh? Spectator fly over the smp?

That would be really neat to like. Watch in VR. I think I’ve only used VR maybe twice.

Pretty Rainbow beacons.

The nurse who gave me my vaccine hid the needle from me because I mentioned to her that I was afraid of needles. It wasn’t a big deal at all.

30 minutes till I attempt sleep. Woo.

Goose my beloved. Someone make the gif because I’m not quite sure how to make it.

Oh yeah. Goose in Marvel. I hear MCU and think Minecraft cinematic universe. Not marvel.

Ghibli is so nice. It really romanticize small moments of life.

Yeah the characters are all really supportive in Ghibli movies.

Someone subbed for nine months “that’s enough to make a child” -Eret

That mansion is like a maze. I’m so lost already.

Everyone encouraging Eret and telling her she looks pretty. Good.

Eret needs all the hype and encouragement.

Antarctic empties flag. Yeah it does have a similar color pallet.

Michelle! Hello!

Fortress work. Nice.

Do it. I’ll listen the Eret play other games.

I don’t usually watch game play for non Minecraft games. But I’ll listen to it all.

Hbomb and Eret living in the same city feels like two worlds that shouldn’t meet. But it’s awesome that they have.

TOS means against twitches terms of service. Nice. Glad to finally have an explanation of what that means.

Look at our handsome and pretty streamer. All the hype.

I keep turning down the stream to hear the show my mama has on because I’m curious about what happens.

Yeah. Backseat gaming can be annoying. That’s part of why I share my thoughts here just in case I do start backseat gaming.

Almost to the sub goal. Hooray!

Ooo food.

No no. I see where they are coming from. Eret does give a bit of cat bus vibes. I can’t explain it but the vibes are there.

Creeper causing issues at the fortress.

Ed Sheepran my beloved.

I should draw more ferrets. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I’ll draw us doing stuffs.

Actually I kinda want to make a little animatic of some heels walking across the screen followed by a hoard of ferrets. I think it’ll look cool. But I need the artistic ability and the ability to not scream making that.

Woop. Ad time. Off to the void of where ever the ads game me.

OH THE NEW VOID LOOKS COOL!

Bread. Flowers. Ted. Crown. And of course Eret.

We V O I D and get our streamer bits.

Hush the chat is V O I D and the occasional emoji or emote.

The void being centered looks good. Maybe that’s just the symmetry speaking but it’s good.

Oh. We hear the being. The being in void mode. And spooky mode.

Chat just starts yelling corpse.

Hydration. I try to stay hydrated. But I fail often if I’m not doing something active.

Tree!

Casually makes and snags tree.

Eret does read chat often. It’s strange. And it is weird how often it ends up being you.

You can tell I’m a tumblr peep. I may say stuff in chat but I’m fully not expecting or wanting to be noticed by the streamer.

Others hitting darkness o’clock and saying goodnight.

It’s sleep to the stream hours y’all. Whoop.

I need to visit the parks out west. I’ve only really seen the eastern US ones. But I have been to the Great Smokey Mountain park which is gorgeous.

Eret thinking of his friends triggers when naming his cat.

Eret’s builds are so casually pretty. Not like Foolish’s which are intricately pretty. Not like Phil’s or Sam’s which are complicated pretty. All pretty. Just different breeds of pretty.

Alrighty. It’s sleepy hours for me. As much as I love Eret I want to read some fanfiction and daydream a bit before I head to sleep.

Have a good rest everyone and may all your coming meals be delicious.

Wait no is it our turn with goose?

OUR TURN WITH GOOSE!

Eret honey that’s the ceiling.

Cat stream. Cat stream.

Sleepy kitty. A cat cam would be good.

Yeah. That happens with cats. Especially strays.

Goose captured the computer mouse.

Goose straight up chose Eret and Elaina.

Goose really just chose not to leave.

Oh my stream connection is acting sad. But I want Goose content.

I want to draw Goose now.

Maybe I’ll do water color for Goose. I know I tried to do that with Boots (Fundy’s cat)

Hopefully there will be some Goose face screenshots I can see. Maybe I can see him well in the Tiktok.

Artists just violently refusing payment. Sounds about right. The MCYT artists just kinda go “yeah give credit and we cool”

Cowboy cat. Nice.

I want to paint Goose in the cowboy hat.

Hype train! That we are zooming.

Bucket sponge?

WATER BUCKET FROM WET SPONGE! Tiktok people giving all the cool info.

Go Goose. Catch the computer mouse and the screen mouse.

Just sitting here at 11:30 at night getting screen shots of Goose for painting purposes.

Goose please. Look at the camera babe.

My phone is dying. And I can’t charge it and type.

Alright the camera is off the cat. The cat is also blocking the screen.

But no cat on camera means I’m getting some sleep. If I do any of the projects I’ve mentioned I’ll let y’all know.

Have a good rest everyone.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part four

Knowing what Harry wanted was a relief. It made you sleep better, even that first night after you drove home and reported back to Lexi over dinner. 

Sure--the stakes were now higher in a sense, right? You were going through with it. Something about that felt completely surreal and still somehow impossible, but deep inside of you, buried beneath the fear and the doubt, was a tiny speck of hope. And it was decidedly apple-seed shaped. 

When you were five or six, you insisted on pushing your dolls around in a carriage, so much so that you refused one day to go to kindergarten without them. Your mother had you all buckled in the car, your doll beside you and the toy-sized stroller folded in the trunk. 

It had always been something you wanted, something you saw in your future--but you’d always thought that it would be in a different order. In fleeting moments, when you made your peace with that, the hope managed to fight it’s way through all of the other feelings, letting you know that it was there and real and maybe things would work out okay. 

The reality was this: you were pregnant. You’d decided that you were going to have the baby. Harry seemed involved enough at this stage, and frankly, you were fine enough for now to just push any other thought out of your head. 

Where would you live? Where would he live? How often would he see the baby? Would you even have full custody or were you making a terrible assumption? Would he be on tour when you went into labor?

There were a thousand questions that tried to keep you up at night, but apparently growing a human took enough out of you that you fell asleep easily these days. And Harry had warned you it was coming--a quick text to give you a heads up. 

310-324-9090 (8:24am): Spoke with Jeff some more last night after I got home. He thinks it’s best if we have a meeting with some of my team. Can you call me later and I’ll give you some details?

You did as he asked--stepped out on your lunch break and spoke to him in the courtyard, careful to keep your voice quiet. 

It wasn’t that people at work were nosy--it was more that a random Facebook employee getting knocked up by a famous musician was sure to be a good headline that someone would be killing to write if they got wind. So for now, you tried your best to speak in code. 

“They want to have a meeting. Just to talk about some logistics and privacy things and whatnot.” He made it sound so casual.

“The logistics of the current situation?” 

He sounded a bit confused. “Of you being pregnant with my baby--yes.”

“This feels like something I would need a lawyer for.”

“You don’t need a lawyer.”

“Aren’t you the opposing side? Isn’t this going to become some weird negotiation around what I can and can’t do with your--you know.”

“I don’t know…”

“Your baby,” you whispered the word quietly, a hand over your mouth to be safe. “Who is mine, too, by the way.”

“Y/N--this is just a meeting, okay? There’s a few things for you to sign--basically just saying that you’re not going to sue me or try to blackmail me.”

Glenne had mentioned that. She threw back another margarita that night in your kitchen and said you’d have to sign an NDA. It’s just something a bunch of people sign, confidentiality, basically. You’ll be fine.

It made sense. Jeff wanted to be sure you wouldn’t sell your story or try to cash in on the undoubtedly pricey offspring you were producing--that’s what Lexi had joked about. Can you imagine how much someone would pay for his baby? 

You reminded her that it was yours, too. She threw her head back and laughed, yeah, but his DNA would make it more expensive--like a purebred. 

And this was the easy phase, after all--that’s what your mom had told you on the phone when you told her you’d be keeping it. Things were still normal. You weren’t showing, you had no symptoms. Other than the apple-seed growth in your uterus, everything was still completely normal. For now. 

You agreed to meet Harry on Saturday afternoon--some office building in Westwood that felt eerily empty on the weekend. Hallways that all looked the same, meeting rooms and conference tables stared back at you. 

He’d met you in the lobby, offered a quick hug when you walked in from the fresh air. He took you up in an elevator, fourth floor, second room down on the left. 

Jeff was inside with a few others, a small smile when you walked in behind Harry, clad in a graphic tee. 

“Hey,” he said, standing and rounding the table to give you a hug. “How are you feeling?”

You could hear the guilt that laced his voice. “Good--I’m fine.”

“I’m, uh--I’m sorry about the other night. I was just--you know, kind of freaked.”

Harry let out a quick laugh, sarcasm threaded through his words. “We were doing totally fine--not freaked out at all.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, sat back down and introduced you to the other faces in the room. Lola, Harry’s publicist, John, a PR guy from his label, Dave, a lawyer. His assistant, Emma, a small smile on her face when you made eye contact. 

You turned to Harry quickly--he sat on the other side of the table beside Jeff, fumbled with the top of his water bottle. He said you didn’t need a lawyer--but for some reason, he had one.

That’s when the anxiety kicked in--the swirling questions of what they all thought. They offered smiles when Jeff began talking and you did your best to wipe the sweat from your hands every few seconds on your pants. 

“So--obviously, this is big news for everyone here--uh, we wanted to have this meeting, really, to just get a few things agreed upon.”

You nodded, watched Harry for a second until he looked at you. 

Dave spoke now--black rimmed glasses sat atop his nose. You wondered what his life was like. A lawyer for top musicians? He probably drove a Tesla, too.“We have to have you sign something, Y/N--just saying that you won’t discuss any of this with the press. It includes no social media posting, no interviews, limited disclosure to friends and family.” 

Another nod--that was a given, and it seemed to be for your own protection, too. Lexi had brought it up first. What happens when people find out he’s the father?

“We don’t expect you to hide the pregnancy altogether--to be clear. But for now, the parentage needs to be confidential.”

“Okay,” you said. “But not like, with everyone, right?” Maybe it was a dumb question. “I already told my mom.”

“No--your mom is fine.” Harry answered the question for them, which is when you realized that you were the only one on your side of the table. They sat in a line, the five of them elbow to elbow, their team and against yours. 

The only problem was that right now, no one was on your team. 

“How much did you tell her?” Dave’s head tilted like you’d said the wrong thing.

“Just a little--she knows it’s his,” your eyes went back up to Harry’s now. He held your gaze for a minute, looked over to Dave and cleared his throat. 

“That’s fine,” Harry said.

The look on Dave’s face told you otherwise. “We need to keep the number of people who know to a minimum.”

“Well I certainly don’t expect her to not tell her mother,” Harry retorted, anger more present in his voice than before. You shrunk in your chair, feeling incredibly isolated as they sat across from you.

“Who does know?” Jeff leaned in, hoping to ease the tension between Harry and Dave--a welcome distraction when he looked towards you.

“Aside from people in this room, my mom, Lexi, Glenne--and my doctor, but, I think she’ll be fine.”

Dave started writing on the notepad in front of him. “I can draw up non-disclosures for them, too.”

Emma sipped at her water--you peered past her out the window. It was sunny--a good day for anything but this. 

“So--we can move to the financial aspect,” Dave put his pen down and thumbed through some papers. “I know this is always the worst part, but--has to be done.”

You looked around the room, still feeling a step behind the others, confused. You watched as Harry twisted his hands together, stared down at them on the table. It felt like no one even wanted to make eye contact with you, like you were somehow wearing a scarlet letter. 

“This agreement details the child support he’ll pay. Monthly until the child turns eighteen. Visiting rights, partial custody if he so chooses. If you sign, it means you agree to the terms and conditions and will hereby agree to share custody, barring any legal changes, of course. Anything you don’t agree to will be settled in arbitration, along with any changes to the agreements set forth here.”

He pushed a packet across the table, the paper was crisp and thick, stapled in the top left corner. 

You looked up at him. “Do I get time to read it over?”

“Of course,” Jeff spoke quickly. “We’ll need it either way by Monday. 

You tried not to roll your eyes. A whole two days. You swallowed, nodded, ignored the pen that Dave flipped over in his hand, apparently hoping you’d agree to sign now. 

“We also have this,” he said, lifting another packet of papers from the stack in front of him. “We’d like a paternity test. This can be completed after seven weeks gestation. The previous agreements and contracts will become null and void if the paternity test proves Mr. Styles is not the father. That’s all detailed in here, though.”

There was a heat on your cheeks, one that felt like it threatened to bring tears. You stared down at the paper already in front of you, words like custodial and proprietary suddenly left your mouth feeling dry.

You didn’t have a chance to respond, Dave slid more papers towards you, this time the pen came with them. “We need you to sign the agreement to DNA testing for paternity confirmation and the basic non-disclosure today.”

You looked up at Harry--he watched as Dave fumbled through more papers, seeing if there was another dotted line for you to put your name on. Jeff stared at the glass of water in front of him, avoiding your gaze like you weren’t his friend, someone who came to his birthday parties or texted memes to his girlfriend.

“I need a minute,” you said, voice hoarse and unsteady. You pushed back from the table, turned and headed for the door without a response from anyone in the room. 

“You can have time with the other documents, it’s just the paternity testing we need signed,” Dave’s voice faded when you got to the hallway, you counted the stripes on the carpet as you put more distance between you and your side of the conference table. The hallways were a maze, more rooms and tables and rolling office chairs that didn’t help calm your nerves. 

There were footsteps behind yours--Harry’s, no doubt--but you kept moving, the end of the hallway was in sight, a door to a balcony, fresh air, a moment to breathe. 

He was right behind you when you pushed it open, the cool metal of the door was prickly on your skin, hot and flushed. You squinted in the sun, he was quiet for a moment, the door shut. 

“M’sorry,” he said after a second. You looked down at the cars that were parked on the streets below, people on sidewalks, a breeze from the ocean. “We have to do that--they’d never just believe it was mine without the actual proof.”

You turned around to face him. “Feels kind of shitty, though. They’ll think I’m lying until I can prove that I’m not.”

He rolled his eyes a bit. “Well people lie, Y/N! You might not be crazy but people out there are--so we have to just, I don’t know, they have to take precautions.”

“This isn’t just happening to you, Harry! I know that’s all that they care about--all that Jeff cares about right now--but this is happening to me, too! This is changing my life, too. You’re not the only one with a career and a family and a life.”

“I know!” He said, looking up to the sky as if it were the hundredth time you said it. “I know it is--I’m doing the best I can, okay? I need to know for sure that it’s mine, too, okay? I trust you, I do--but I have to know for sure.”

“Right--cause somehow this is my fault and it all falls on me at the end of the day, right?”

“I never said that,” he said, more hushed now.

“Well, this is on you, too. You’re the father and if I have to take a fucking paternity test I will but--you’re the only person I’ve slept with in the last, like, year.”

His eyes went a bit wide at that--you let out an annoyed laugh and turned back to the view, wishing you were home, beneath the tree in your mom’s backyard in Santa Paula. A good book and a sense of calm, something that felt all too fleeting these days. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

You tried to ignore the smirk on his face, crossed your arms over your chest when you turned back to see him again. “So--there’s literally no chance it’s anyone else’s.”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth still lifted toward the sky. 

“What? What are you smiling for?”

“Dunno,” he laughed a little. “Just--I kind of thought you left that night because you were seeing someone or something like that.”

“What? No--I haven’t--I had a boyfriend a while ago but we broke up.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

He shrugged, dropped your gaze for a moment. “Well, when I met you in the fall at that dinner--I don’t know, I asked Glenne about you and she said you were kind of,” he glanced back up at you, “unavailable. Or, you were dealing with something. So I figured when you left and never called it just--had to do with him.” 

You thought back to that first night in October, long before the sex and the sneaking out. Sushi and drinks and butterflies when he walked in to the restaurant. You always knew that they knew him--heard his name and heard his songs on the radio. You’d seen him from afar once, a party at Jeff’s old house, you were on your way out when he strolled in, sometime in 2017, hugging other people and shaking hands with beautiful women. You never even thought he noticed you until you found yourself drunk on his couch two years later.

You knew why Glenne said it. You’d ended a relationship in the spring of 2018 and it took you all summer to even want to go out again. Lexi would beg and plead and apparently, a celebration in Glenne’s honor was what it took in the fall for you to finally put on a pair of heels and have a few drinks. 

“I wasn’t unavailable--I just--I don’t know, her and Lexi can be protective.”

He nodded, quiet for a minute when he looked out over the hills in the distance. 

Your break up was tough, not so much about losing him, but losing the vision you had. There were plenty of red flags--so big that even Lexi could pick up on them. But you brushed it off, pretended like it didn’t matter that he was unreliable and immature. When you finally had enough, you were more upset about the fact that it threw you off course. 

What am I supposed to do, now? You’d asked Lexi in the living room, crying on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. How am I supposed to get married at 27 and have a baby at 29 if he’s not the one?

He wasn’t--he was far from it. Lexi poured more wine and said she’d order you a vibrator on Amazon. He’s a fucking dickface, dude, you’ll meet someone else. And fuck that timeline. It’s bullshit. 

Maybe it was a gust of wind or the thoughts of how terribly off track this put you, more tears in your eyes when you sighed. 

“I’m sorry you have to sign all this shit.”

You bit at your lip, a tiny thud in your chest when his eyes met yours. 

“S’not how it should typically be and that’s because of me--or my job, at least.”

You nodded. He was right. If this was anyone else it’d be a lot easier. A lot less paperwork, a lot less questions. 

“Do you want to go get dinner?”

“Right now?”

“Well,” he looked over his shoulder--Jeff was down the hall, his figure blurred through the glass. “You probably have to sign at least the NDA if you want them to let you out of the building. But--after that.”

You took a deep breath, wishing you could ignore the guilt that sat on your shoulders. He shouldn’t have spend time with you. You didn’t want him to feel tied down, trapped, you didn’t want to be the ball and chain that would inevitably be blamed for changing his life and ruining his career. 

“No, no, we don’t have to, I should go home.”

“It’s Saturday,” he said. “What do you have to do?”

You didn’t expect his question--or pushback at all, really. “I have to clean. I have to organize stuff.”

“Stuff?” A smirk on his face told you he was on to you. 

“You don’t have to take me to dinner. We don’t have to pretend like we’re friends.”

He watched you for a second, his eyes scanning your face as if he didn’t know what to say. He pushed his lips out in thought and then scratched at the back of his neck. 

“Am I at least allowed to get to know you? If you’re having my baby--if we’re doing this--you’re kind of stuck with me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to backtrack. 

“However you meant it--I still want to take you to dinner.”

“Fine,” you said, heat on your cheeks when he smiled, eyes crinkling by the side. “But I have some things to sign first.”

“Right,” he nodded, a stifled laugh under his breath. He turned around and grabbed the door, gesturing for you to head back inside. “After you.”

**

Another burger, this time, hold the pickles. He teased you at the drive through window that you’d be keeping them in business alone for the next nine months, you parked this time near a beach north of Santa Monica. 

“You said I didn’t need a lawyer,” you didn’t look at him, focused instead on the half-eaten burger in your hands before you took another bite. “Feels like I do.”

He looked over at you and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I mean--I didn’t want to freak you out. You don’t need one. You could have someone read over the papers for you. Do you have one?”

You racked through your brain. Maybe Simone would be your best bet, you could bring them into work on Monday and let her give it a read, but, then again, there was no way Dave and Jeff would let you tell another person before the paternity test results came in. 

You shook your head. “Lexi watches a lot of Law & Order.”

He stifled a laugh, sipped from his soda and adjusted the dark sunglasses perched on his nose. “I don’t think she counts, love, sorry.”

You picked up your own drink and took a swig, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach when he smiled down at you. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I can, uh, I can have Jeff find someone--not Dave--who can read them and you can meet with them, maybe. Go over it all and make sure it makes sense.”

You nodded, a feeling of gratitude swept through you. You offered a small smile of appreciation, another bite of your burger before Harry let out a laugh. 

“See? M’not the enemy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t push it.”

“Hey, I mean it,” he turned towards you now, the sleeve of french fries on his lap shifted, one fell down to the clean carpet of his car. “I know they’re requiring the test, but, I trust you. And we’re in this together.”

You crumpled up the garbage of your dinner, tossed it in the bag that sat by your feet, suddenly too nervous to sit so close to him in the confines of his car. “Let’s take a walk,” you said, unsure of how to respond to his words. It was hard to believe him, he pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and walked beside you towards the beach, another stark reminder of the difference between your life and his. 

It was obvious again, when the teenager behind the ice cream window at a beach front shop begged for a photo. You took it and prayed she didn’t even remember that you were with him. Hopefully the adrenaline in her system would wipe your face from her memory. 

“This is the most beautiful ice cream cone I’ve ever gotten,” he said, sitting on the bench of a picnic table a decent ways away from the counter where you’d ordered. He twirled it around, inspecting it from all angles when you pulled the straw of your milkshake up to your lips. 

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen one before,” you teased, reaching for a napkin from his other hand. 

“S’just so perfect looking.” He reached for his phone, lifted his dessert up in front of the setting sun that sprawled over the ocean’s horizon. “Wow--do you see this?” He clicked the button on his phone, his thumb successfully capturing the moment.

You rolled your eyes, took a quick peek around to make sure no one was nearby. He’d already warned you that he couldn’t stay long. Typically only 30 minutes after you take a photo with someone, otherwise people start to show up. 

“I’m sending this to you,” he laughed. “I understand if you want it framed or just as reminder of this beautiful evening.”

He pressed a few buttons and then your screen lit up on the bench in between you. 

He peered down at it, then brought his eyes back up to yours. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he took the first lick of his ice cream. “Ever gonna save my number in your phone?”

You laughed, a bit embarrassed that a part of you had refused to do it. What if one day you woke up and he backed out? Said you were on your own and wrote you a check to never seek him out?

“Yeah, I just--I dunno, it felt weird at first.”

He raised his eyebrows a bit, finally took another lick from his ice cream. “Too personal?”

You laughed, “a bit.”

“Nothing quite as personal as having a baby together, if you ask me.” He took another lick and then dropped your gaze, a small smile on his face when he looked back at the sunset. “M’not going anywhere. Promise.”

**

When Aarav showed up at your desk on Monday morning, you knew you’d fucked up. When Simone showed up only ten minutes later, you knew you’d really fucked up. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I totally forgot it was tonight.”

“You forgot our bi-weekly Monday night bitch session about work was on a Monday night? On the Monday night after we didn’t hang out last week?” Simone tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at you. Aarav let out a sigh. 

“I’ve been busy, I’ve been so busy.”

“Well are we still on? Simone and I are free as birds, so--we’re waiting on you.”

You looked at your work calendar, pulled up on your screen. Your last meeting was 3pm--then you were supposed to head towards Westwood to meet Harry and Dave and Jeff and probably the other people who had been at the first meeting. 

“Yes, I can--I just, I have to cancel something else. But it’s fine. Not a big deal. That’s on me.”

You picked up your phone and tried to open the message discreetly. Simone pulled up her own and kept talking. “I’ll make us a reservation at Diego’s, yeah?” 

“Sure,” Aarav said, “that’s the place with the good guac, right?”

“Right,” she said, clicking her phone shut and bringing her eyes back to you. “But also--can we talk tonight about how Carson told me he heard Levi mention something about talking with someone at Apple?”

Your eyes went wide. “Shut up--did you actually?”

“I’ll fill you in tonight,” she smiled, taking a step back from your desk and heading for the door of your office. “Over a nice, tall, frozen margarita.”

You leaned back in your chair and groaned, playfully insinuating that waiting that long would be torture. Aarav laughed and picked up a stress ball on your desk. He tossed it in the air once Simone walked away. 

“You alright lately?”

You looked up from your screen, a half written text to Harry was typed out. 

Hey--any chance we can rain check the meeting tonight? I know I have to sign it but something at work

“What?” You looked up at him and clicked your phone to sleep. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem distracted, or just stressed.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” he said, a lilt in his voice like he didn’t quite believe you. 

You mulled it over for a second. You could tell him, you could tell both of them. They were good people and they’d sat through many intolerable staff meetings when Carson tried his best to shit on your team as if he wasn’t everyone’s least favorite coworker. 

You swallowed it down and looked up at him. “All good--just, busy, really. Really hoping that there’s some movement here, soon.”

He knew what you meant--he was the one you’d been most transparent with. 

“I think it’s gonna happen, don’t worry.”

You nodded, let out a sigh, wishing you could tell him that the apple seed in your uterus made things slightly less black and white than just getting a promotion.

And you wished you could have explained that to them that night--especially when they grilled you for not drinking. You shoveled chips and dip into your mouth like it was going out of style--only coming up for air when Simone reminded you about her news. 

“So do you want the scoop on Levi or what?”

“Do not get my hopes up,” you warned her. “I’m not in a good place for getting jerked around.”

Aarav laughed and sipped on his margarita. “Jerk her anyway.”

“I think he had an interview.”

“No he didn’t,” you whined, worried it was either false or too good to be true. You loved Levi. He was funny and talented and he taught the three of you a lot. Plus, he didn’t really care that you’d been working from home a lot more often lately. 

But you’d been hoping he’d leave Facebook for the last eight months. Ever since he told you that he’d certainly recommend you to the higher ups as his replacement. 

“I swear on my life. On Mark Zuckerberg, even. I heard Levi telling Dan from Tech Support about it in the cafeteria the other day.”

Instead of responding, you shoveled in another mouthful of guac, wide eyes when they looked at you for some sort of response. But what were you supposed to say? How were you to supposed to be excited for something that had long been building, moving in that direction, but was now suddenly threatened by a one night stand?

You’d worked at Facebook longer than both Aarav and Simone. Simone came on only a few months after you, but Aarav was a whole year behind. They were also marketing geniuses, Aarav came from a top school in Chicago, Simone from the Bay Area with a degree in New Media and Internet Marketing. Your small team was responsible for digital promotions, those run online or in commercials. As the team’s Visual Designer, you worked closely with the rest of them to bring their ideas to the screen, however that looked.

So when the Team Lead, Levi, had started making mentions about heading to a new job, he casually tried to gauge your interest over coffee in the first floor cafe. 

But this was shitty timing. How were you supposed to take maternity leave in the first few months in a new job? Would someone fill your spot while you were gone? The questions that started to race through your mind felt overwhelming, so much so that you wished you could reach for the margarita in Aarav’s hand. 

But you didn’t. And you bit your tongue when they asked you again why you weren’t drinking. You didn’t tell them, though you wanted to, that the reason you had to miss work in the afternoon the next day was because you had to sign an NDA, agreeing to keep them and others in the dark about what was sure to be the most wild adventure yet. 

And when you hugged them goodbye in the parking lot, you blinked back tears, hoping that one day, they’d know the truth. 

**

You sent the documents to your mom. She was far from a lawyer, but she was likely the safest option you had. Lexi tried to grab them when you left them on the counter, push some sunglasses on her face and read the biggest words she saw in a posh Transatlantic accent. Both individuals agree that any proceedings will be confidential, she giggled and pretended to rip it up, collapsing on the sofa beside you to watch Netflix before bed. 

It didn’t make much more sense to your mother, either, she sighed over FaceTime and apologized for not being able to help. That was your cue to text Harry. Is there actually someone I could meet with to go over these papers? Aside from Dave?

He set it up--claimed that Jeff found someone easily and then two days later, a woman with short blonde hair stood on your front step, Jeff in tow. 

She sat at your small dining room table--one your mom had tucked away in the basement when you were little--the perfect spot for arts and crafts. You prayed, while your blonde-haired lawyer looked over all the words on the endless pages, that she didn’t notice the paint splotches or pools of glitter that had long been stuck on the dark, stained wood.

You sat there for hours, Lexi came and left twice in the time that the three of you huddled around the papers, Jeff with a baseball cap on as he told you about why these things were important. Rita--who you learned was a connection through Harry’s record label--had already signed an NDA and promised to explain the clauses and constraints in layman's terms. 

So you felt slightly less stupid and insecure walking back into the same conference room Tuesday afternoon, alone on your side of the table. 

Harry was already seated when you arrived, he offered a smile and a nervous scan over your body before you sat across from him. Jeff ended whatever call he’d been on, Dave’s hand immediately extended to receive the manila folder he’d previously sent you home with. 

Another sunny Los Angeles day smiled through the window, Harry’s assistant was nowhere to be seen, the label rep wasn’t there, either. Three against one, this time. 

You didn’t admit it to them, but your hand shook a bit when you reached across the table, handed over the packet of papers that somehow felt like you were giving up freedom, giving up your say in things and like you didn’t even know what you’d now lose. It was all in writing now. You were carrying this baby to term and that was the one thing that would keep Harry in your life, for better or for worse.

The only thing you took solace in was the fact that you had access to Jeff and Glenne, and maybe Rita, now, too. You could ask questions or get clarification over cups of coffee or take out. 

So maybe that explained the calmness in your gut when you sat on top of an exam table in Doctor Weston’s office, Harry pacing nervously in front of you. 

“Can you relax?” You asked, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding for the last few minutes. 

Was it okay for you to say that? You still felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, unsure of what would tick him off and how to react. The truth was that you were still strangers--he was still someone you didn’t know. Someone who had his own pet peeves and his own fears and anxieties. He’d met you in the parking lot, he was already out of his car when you pulled in beside him the next week and met him after work. 

You’re kind of late, he’d said. A frown on his face when he used sunglasses to shield his eyes. 

You’d been in a meeting. You left as soon as you could. Now, he still couldn’t shake the nerves after he’d listed off the things that were keeping him up at night.

“I can’t relax,” he retorted, his words charged. He turned on his feet, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I have to figure out a lot of stuff right now. And I’m nervous, okay? This is a big day.” He motioned over to the sonogram machine, a box of purple gloves was tucked alongside it. 

“You’re not the one who has to have someone’s fingers in her--you know.”

He rolled his eyes at that, let out a breathy sigh and sat in the chair against the wall. He clasped his hands together but then looked up at you. You wondered if he thought you looked stupid in the blue and white gown the nurse had left for you on the table. You’d locked him out of the room when you changed, now he smirked up at you. 

“Cute dress.”

“Shut up.”

“S’nice!”

“It’s ratty and old and--not very flattering,” you plucked at the fabric with your fingers, looking back at him when he sighed again. 

“M’sorry--I just--I had a meeting with Jeff today and we decided to push the album back.”

You were quiet, the air in the room felt stiff and cold. Goosebumps on your skin when you swallowed back the thought: it was all your fault. 

“I--”

He cut you off before you could string any words together. “S’fine, Y/N, really. Gives me more time to sit on it and plan some music videos and talk about marketing stuff.”

You would have asked more about it. Asked about the songs or the process or anything in between, but the door opened and Dr. Weston smiled when she stepped into the white-tiled room. 

“Hello, hello, how’s mom feeling?”

The m-word got caught in your throat, color drained from your face when Harry looked between you and the doctor. “Good, right, love?” He stood and took two steps over to you, some sort of instinct in him took over, a hand on your back when he realized how frozen you were. “Headaches, she’s said, a funny taste in your mouth, right?”

You nodded.

Dr. Weston sat on the rolling stool and moved towards the sonogram machine, an apologetic smile for the panic she’d caused in you. “Are the headaches helped by something over the counter? Advil? Tylenol?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Advil. Is that alright?”

“Perfectly fine. Just take the recommended dose, no more than it says on the bottle.”

You and Harry both nodded at that--as if he would remember her advice, too. 

“Alright,” she reached for some gloves and looked up at you, eyes wide. “Ready to lean back? The gel will be cold but it will give us a good look at what’s going on in there. This will be the first of many ultrasounds.”

You did as she told, pushed your bum back on the table and let your back rest flush against it. She was right--the gel was sticky and cool and the probe that came from the machine poked at your stomach. You ignored the nervousness that pooled in your chest when you exposed your skin in the room, that last time Harry had seen you like this, it was dark and his vision was likely blurred by the alcohol. 

“Okay,” Dr. Weston’s voice was calm, she moved along your lower stomach for a few seconds, all eyes were glued to the screen. “So, the big dark circle there in your uterus,” she pointed at the screen and clicked something to capture it. “That’s the lining, there, where it turns to a lighter gray.”

Harry nodded, his lips slightly parted as his arms crossed over his chest. 

“And that, the tiny little thing inside of it--” she adjusted the probe again and pointed to the screen, tugging at the whole machine a bit so you could see it more easily. “That’s your baby.”

Quiet for a second, the first time in a while that your pulse slowed and you felt alone again, even if it was just inside your head. The thoughts slowed, your breathing slowed, and Harry’s hip bumped against your arm when he looked down at you. 

There was a small smile on his face. One that looked genuine but slightly terrified at the same time. He pointed towards the screen, “s’right there, that’s it.”

“I see it,” you nodded.

He tilted his head to the side. “It’s more--like a pea now.”

You laughed a little, immediately bringing levity to the room. “It wasn’t going to be an apple seed forever.”

Dr. Weston smiled, rolled away from the machine when you pushed yourself up on your elbows. “Do you want to do a vaginal ultrasound? We can possibly hear the heartbeat that way--obviously less comfortable.”

Harry looked over at you, all you did was nod. She asked you to slide off the hospital shorts you’d tugged on beneath the gown. Harry twisted around to offer privacy, this time, the probe was more uncomfortable and there was a tinge of pink on your cheeks when he turned back to face you, his gaze trailed down to notice Dr. Weston’s hand under the blanket that was now splayed out on your lap.

Quiet for a second, then she smiled. “That sound, the whooshing--that’s the heartbeat. That’s the baby, again,” she pointed. “Right there.”

“Huh,” you said, once again, eyes on the screen and hands clasped over your stomach. Harry looked down at you when Dr. Weston captured the image again. 

“So,” Dr. Weston’s voice was quieter now, she removed the probe and discarded her gloves into the trash. “Still too soon to tell the sex. But--we’ll do another one in about four weeks. If anything changes, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out. You can email me on the patient portal or just call the front desk.”

“Okay.”

“I'll print these for you.”

“Can you print two copies, please?”

She nodded, another reminder of how off track things were from the plan. You ignored the weight on your shoulders, the guilt that passed through your veins when she shut the door behind her and left you alone in the room with him. 

You sat up, the paper crumbled beneath you and Harry stood awkwardly in the center of the room. 

“I, uh--I still haven’t told my family.”

You bit at your lip, unsure. Was it because he was ashamed? Embarrassed? Angry? You didn’t ask.

“I want to, I just--I haven’t seen them in a bit. So. I’m supposed to go home for a while next week.”

You nodded. “You should go.”

“It’s supposed to be for, like, six weeks.”

“That’s fine.”

“No--I’m not--I can’t miss whatever happens.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

He pulled his head back, confused by your words. “I don’t think that’s how pregnancy works.”

You stood from the table and hopped down, suddenly much shorter than you felt before, barefoot on the tile. “Just go.”

He let out a sigh. “I might for a week, but, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you snapped suddenly. “You don’t have to come to every appointment and act like we’re actually--I don’t know, together, or something. We can still live separate lives.”

“I’m not acting like that,” he said, eyebrows pointed inwards now. “I’m just doing what’s right. I’m in this, too, Y/N.”

You turned around, shimmied the shorts down from your hips and held the gown in place. You grabbed for your underwear on the chair beside his, neatly folded in a pile as if your life wasn’t a mess.

“I think you should do it. Tell them in person.” You pulled up the elastic band over your hips, still keeping the gown close to your body. 

He handed you the black shorts you’d been wearing earlier, the gesture didn’t match the tone of his voice. “Why are you like this?”

“I’m not like anything,” you said, one foot in first, then the other. “I just don’t want you to feel trapped in LA with me. I’m fine.”

You dropped the gown now, holding it to your chest when you turned to reach for your bra. He averted his gaze, stared directly at the vagina poster on the wall. “Right.”

You tugged on your bra quickly, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head. “Right what?”

“You’re right. You’re fine. You don’t need me,” a shrug of his shoulders. “Is that what you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to relax.”

“Well I’m sorry that I can’t,” he spoke quickly now, the anger on his face stopped you in your tracks. “But the last thing I need is for you to act like none of this is a big deal.”

You didn’t mean to do it again--you didn’t feel it coming until the tears were already on your cheeks, wet and falling towards the floor. He sighed at that, steadied his own breathing and pinched at the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, words broken by the heavy breathing. “It just happens now--I just cry on command.”

He shook his head, watching as you folded the gown neatly on the table, left it there to be discarded by the nurse. “No--I--it’s fine. You can cry as much as you want.”

You turned to look at him, a few breaths to try to steady your pulse. He stepped forward, his arms wrap around your shoulders. You were still for a moment, unsure if you were allowed you let your arms wrap around his waist, or if it would make the crying worse. But you did, and when you did, he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“S’alright. I’ll go home for a week. Then I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” you said. “Okay.”

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: longer than usual!!! so excited for all of you to read what’s coming! I hope everyone is staying safe and staying home. I wanted to put this chapter out a bit early since I know everyone is (hopefully) stuck inside. keep all of the messages coming i love chatting with all of you about Harry and Y/N and their little apple seed!!!! 

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila @mell-love @anssu-amry @yelllowgrass @littlesoldierelleora @styles217 @rachkon @c-h-e-r-r-y-y @myhat  @rosegoldbel @passionate-dreamerr @grammyforstyles @haute-romance-quotidienne@dontgiveupthedayjob @ursamajor603 @craic-head-horan @heavenspidey @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry @blackxxmagicc @winter-soldier-007 @ssllbb @wanderlustiing @jdcharliewhiskey  @caritocp @kaybee87 @wildbeee @hsunflowervol @harrys-medicines @tobe-sogolden @theresnooneheretosave @1d-tommo5 @soullikestyles @mrsfstyles

[messymessyml]

Sometimes a premonition is destined to happen

Hi all, 

This is the craziest thing I’ve written in a long while and the strangest part about it is that my top three oddest pieces of writing have all had a Greek Mythology worldbuild. It’s what the ancient Greeks would have wanted.

This is my Secret Santa 2020 gift for @bunathebunny and my prompts were ‘Percy Jackson AU’, ‘turning into cats’, ‘no soulmate AU’,  ‘Jason x Luka’, and ‘Stephanie x Marinette’. There were a few other requested ‘fors’ and ‘against’s’ I was able to include here, but I have to say, this was the most reader-specific thing I think I’ve ever tailored. I hope you like it!

FYI: “~~” indicate POV changes, and while I ended up breaking this into chapters, this is essentially a oneshot. I curse when Jason is the narrator since I can’t see Jason as Jason without it so if that’s not your thing be forewarned. This is also cross posted on AO3.

@maribat-secret-santa-2020

Chapter 1

The camp was noisy, with people’s inner songs reaching out to the treeline in a mess of chaotic synergy. Word had arrived that Artemis and her hunters had just reached the outer edges of the barrier around the camp and the camp-goers who were not busy with sentry duties or away from camp were frantically working to put the finishing touches on the new lodgehouse erected for Artemis’s feast. Artemis was one of the more frequent godly visitors to Camp Half-Blood, but it was rare that she deigned to make the visit official, much preferring to conceal herself as another half-blood or a visiting instructor under a different guise. As son of Apollo, Luka was aware of a more mischievous side of his father’s twin sister, and the grating cacophony of sound combined with the foreboding feeling he felt down to his bones stemming from this impending visit was just on the edge of overwhelming for him. 

Finding a quiet area was relatively easy, all told, though his senses tried to disagree with him as they quailed from the near sensory overload all he had to do was move to the outskirts of the lake as he followed a very familiar and well worn path. As Luka approached his boyfriend’s House, that marrow-ache he always felt from prophesy tightened in tandem with the relief that enveloped him as blessed silence cloaked him in it's comforting embrace. It seemed that the adventures of today wouldn’t be as easy to dodge as he’d hoped, but it was comforting to know that his boyfriend would be along with him for the ride.

~~

Jason was having a no-good gods-be-damned day. 

He’d been woken by Emma and Darcy who had managed to get into what appeared to be no holds barred fight to the death a four in the fucking morning. Emma, the eastern screech owl he’d found a few years before making his way to Camp Half-Blood, was hooting up a storm and fluffed to Elysium while Darcy, the mustard-bellied snake Luka had given him about a year and a half into their relationship lunged at Emma’s clawed legs with his teeth extended. Suffice to say, he wasn’t happy to wake up like that, and it served them both right that they were now separated on either ends of his lodge by a verifiable army of skeletal mice. It made a sort of macabre justice to see them cornered and policed by their own undead meals as he had left his lodge after breaking up the fight. 

He was currently in the mess hall grabbing food, but it wasn’t much of an improvement over his living quarters. The raucous environment grated on his ears after a less than full night’s sleep and the fact that it was mostly the higher pitches of the girls making most of the noise didn’t help matters. The porridge he’d grabbed was looking less appetizing by the minute. 

He’d just decided to give up on his breakfast when Jason heard a familiar voice call out “Hey bozo, whatcha up to this fine morning!” at the same moment another body hit his side. Jason faintly registered the girl who hit him let out an “oops'' as this action pushed his hand into his spoon and sent mush into his face. Miraculously, not a drop landed on the perpetrator, which gave Jason enough of a clue to know the identity of both the girl hanging from his shoulders as well as the girl still approaching from behind him. 

“What. The. Fuck.”, Jason deadpanned. Taking a napkin from the center of the table, he did his best to wipe up the mess even with his tag-along making the stretch all that more difficult.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Jay. Marinette didn’t mean to do it, you know that.” Saying that, Stephanie slid on to the bench on his other side, leaving Marinette to cage him in from the right.

“Sorry, Jason. Next time I’ll check my landing!” Marinette added with a cheeky little grin.

The nerve. Jason couldn’t really say this minor level of chaos was out of the norm for his friends, but after his early wake-up call Marinette’s clumsiness wasn’t appreciated. 

“Why the fuck are you two so energetic today? For that matter, why are all the girls acting like Eros came for a visit?” Jason asked. 

Marinette piped up stating, “Artemis and her hunt are set to arrive today! Steph and I aren’t on sentry duty so we won’t get to join the welcoming party, but that just means everyone who isn’t on duty can join Artemis on her hunt later today!”

“I think she’s looking to recruit some new huntresses, and after her last visit to the Amazons, this is the next spot scheduled.” Stephanie confided. “Obviously everyone only means all the girls, so that’s why you’re hearing mostly girls talking about Artemis’s visit.”

“Knowing your luck, you’ll be offered a spot and rope Steph here into joining too.” Jason directed to Marinette with a raised eyebrow. 

“I may have luck on my side, but I doubt Steph or I will actually join.” Marinette responded, continuing over his head with a smile, “I’m too happy with you to give all this up.” 

Jason could see Steph smile from the corner of his eye as he wiped the last of the oatmeal from his face as she replied, “Babe you and me both.” 

“Not that this isn’t exactly what I want to hear before eight in the fucking morning, but I need to get back to my cabin; I left Emma and Darcy in time-out and I need to re-up the power behind the undead mice keeping them away from each other.” Jason reluctantly got out.

“Ha, what the fuck? I thought those two got along, did they decide to wake you up, Mister Grumpypants?” Stephanie teased him even as Marinette relinquished her vice hold and scooted to the side to let him up. 

“Sure as the Underworld, they decided 4AM was the best time for it. I swear, good ole pops must have remembered I existed for once and decided to have E and D play messenger or somethin’.” Jason grumbled as he got up and grabbed his tray. 

“Don’t be a stranger! You won’t like the consequences, Jay!” Stephanie called out.

“Yeah-yeah-yeah, I got it. See you guys.” Jason said as he waved over his shoulder and dropped his bowl off at the clean up station on the way out.

Jason made his way back home, not in a hurry to arrive but not making any stops on the way. His father didn’t do him any favors in the PR department, and most camp-goers avoided him on principle. It wasn’t like there were many demigods with Hades as a father, and most avoided children of the Big Three out of practicality if not fear. Jason soon found himself entering his cabin, pleasantly surprised to see his boyfriend Luka calmly sitting waiting for him on the bed, gently strumming his guitar. Less pleasantly, it seemed his broken concentration at breakfast cost him a few skeleton mice enforcers whose bones were strewn across the floor and a clear path of destruction was shown leading from the corners each animal were previously penned into to the center of the room. He couldn’t see any blood and it looked like Luka had been able to calm them down as Emma and Darcy were now perched on his shoulder and leg, respectively, but it didn’t take a genius to see that they both weren’t done fighting.

“Hey love, I didn’t expect to see you until later today, what had you up so early?” Jason queried.

Giving one last strum to his instrument, Luka pulled a hand away to capture Emma in one hand, preventing her from diving down to the snake anklet just visible from under Luka’s pant leg. Darcy seemed content to stay where he was curled around Luka’s warmth. Sometimes it was eerie watching his boyfriend’s knack for precognition in action. Mostly, it got him hot.

“There were too many conflicting songs near Apollo’s cabin this morning so I woke up early. I came over here for some peace and to see you.” Luka calmly replied.

Nodding, Jason moved over to the washbasin, washing his face and hands, a simple “wait a sec” enough for the time being. He wanted to hug his boyfriend, gods dammit, but he didn’t want to do it with porridge on his body. 

“Marinette struck again.” Jason complained, “She managed to land on me without me hearing her or her shadow reaching me first and got me covered in my breakfast. Not a drop landed on her, Luka! Luck shouldn’t be that powerful, babe.”

Luka’s eyes twinkled as he grinned and said, “What did you expect, mon beau, she is the daughter of Tyche.”

“The minute she and Steph got together it seemed they were a match made specifically to punish me. I swear, if Steph uses her powers on me one more time to rig another prank in her girlfriends favor, I will fill her bed with dancing bones.” he said as emphatically (read: dramatically) as he could.

“Sounds like a plan.” Luka full-out grinned, hardly able to get the words out. Once he’d gotten a bit of a handle on his response, Luka continued, “What do you say about joining me on our date a little early? Since we’re both up, let’s try to get to the river fort a little early; we might be able to watch the hunt from that vantage without incurring Artemis’s wrath.”

“Ugh, yeah, lemme just…” Jason said as he pulled power from the ground, focused on the mice bones scattered around his cabin. Commanding the dead to do his bidding wasn’t all that hard, but he wanted to make sure both Emma and Darcy stayed away from each other so he also instructed the shadows to form a barricade, making sure that the shadows understood that they needed to remain opaque and in between his companions while he was gone. That done, he turned to Luka and caught the tail end of his softened expression which never failed to soften his own brow in return. 

“Ready, love?” Jason asked.

“With you? Always.” Luka replied.

Chapter 2

Jason found himself following after Luka as he moved through the forest like he belonged. Most of the time, he found himself bringing up the rear as it was easier for him to keep in contact with the shadows a step or two away from his child-of-the-sun boyfriend. Jason felt more secure being able to keep in touch with his shadows as they acted as an early warning system for any ambush. His time on the run while he made his way to Camp Half-Blood gave him a healthy dose of fear for the unknown and a respect for the utility of his powers to keep himself and others safe. With how distracted people had been that morning, there was no telling what might have slipped past the sentries divided attention. 

Luka was up ahead, likely channeling the song of the forest as he usually did on these hiking dates of theirs. Today’s melody was a bit more playful, with individual notes that rang out loudly every few chords. With one last set of instructions to the shadows, Jason left them and pulled abreast of his boyfriend.

“Were you able to eat before you made your way to my cabin, Luka? I didn’t see you in the mess hall.” Jason began.

Still strumming, Luka responded, “No, I had a feeling that we should stay together today and try to get to the fort by the waterfall as quickly as possible. It feels like one of those omen-filled days.”

Small chills went down his spine as Jason digested that information. The fort was pretty far away from the residences and probably the furthest training ground in Camp Half-Blood. They would sometimes go to it on their days off since the location was hardly ever visited so he hadn’t thought much when the spot was originally proposed, but Luka’s intuition was never to be taken lightly. Even though they’d been walking for an hour or so, talking or enjoying each other’s presence, there was still a way to go to reach the fort. Time to get a move on, then.

“In that case, babe, let’s get moving.” saying that, he placed his hand on Luka’s hand holding the guitar, making eye contact, and after a gentle squeeze he let go.

~~

Luka knew that the music would have helped, but he was weak. They’d been dating for over three years at this point and friends for almost five and he was still weak to those eyes.  Sometimes Jason seemed to reach inside his chest and squeeze his heart to pulp, the only thing left the breath in his lungs calling him to sing. Sing his feelings and leave all else to the wayside. 

It meant he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

It meant he didn’t feel fate grab hold.

Jason with laser focus on the path ahead and him with his head in the clouds, it meant they stumbled upon the hunt in progress without realizing it. 

~~

Chaos. Stephanie couldn’t have stopped the trainwreck that just happened to save her life. Unfortunately, her friend’s lives might be at stake at this point, so that just wasn’t gonna cut it. Time for damage control.

Stephanie and Marinette had joined the hunt after Artemis called for volunteers for the day stating that a training session was in order. They’d been tracking the golden buck that was the star of the hunt for almost two hours at this point and it was getting close to midday. The sun was shining almost directly down on the buck as it paused in a clearing where the animal trail intersected with one of the paths more commonly used by camp-goers. Stephanie and Marinette were shadowing Artemis while Artemis’s third-in-command waved three other girls to fan out to surround the clearing, both groups moving in tandem to corner the buck and lead him on a chase to the river. The purpose of the training exercise was to learn how to pursue large prey and tactically block all escape rather than a simple kill the buck, otherwise their team of demigods and goddesses would have finished the hunt over an hour ago.

Unfortunately, it seemed her dumbass friends didn’t get the memo and stumbled directly on the clearing, obscured from view until they were directly in the sunlight. As they came into view, the buck stiffened and the game was up; the buck’s nostrils flared and the animal ran in the exact opposite direction as intended, straight for Artemis. 

Artemis swiftly shifted from the red-haired youth she had chosen for the hunt to a body with an Amazonian stature, her hair shifting to a sleek brown and her features shaping into an adult countenance. The buck, startled, reared up and attempted to hit the goddess, hooves aimed to cut and bruise. Artemis swiftly moved around the buck’s shoulder, pulled a knife from its sheath at the base of her spine and slit the buck's throat as it’s feet came down, spasming as it fell to the ground.

Sternly, moving to face her friends, Artemis’s booming voice could be heard: “What nonsense goes here? Who are you to dare ruin this hunt?”

Stephanie bit her tongue to avoid speaking on their behalf. Her own powers beat with Artemis’s thirst to mete out her comeuppance on the boys. 

Her eyes cut from Artemis’s back to Jason’s as he straightened his spine and stepped further into the clearing to state: “Apologies, Artemis, we didn’t intend to interrupt your hunt. I was hiding myself and my partner in the shadows to avoid startling your prey, but it seems luck wasn’t on our side today.” 

“Son of Hades…” Artemis said thoughtfully. “Your father has been kind to my children lately. I may be lenient on your punishment because of this. However,” here, Steph could see Artemis’s head tilt to fully view Luka, “Apollo has been quite impertinent lately. You, I do not feel so kind toward. You, I may turn into a boar for today’s hunt and I might not guarantee your safe return to humanity.”

The threat hung in the air. Stephanie so badly wanted to intervene. Perhaps...her eyes cut to Marinette’s and a moment passed between the two. Darting her gaze to Jason’s, she mouthed the word ‘luck’ and ‘Tyche’ to her girlfriend, hoping Marinette would be able to pick up her plan.

“Artemis,” Stephanie spoke. “Perhaps a middle-ground would be satisfactory. Marinette over there is the daughter of Tyche and I am the daughter of Nemesis; perhaps she could help you verify their claim about luck and I could propose a suitable punishment?”

Artemis half-turned around to view her as she contemplated the offer, her eyes piercing as their color shifted with her thoughts. Stephanie could feel her breath catch in her throat as she waited for Artemis’s response. 

“Hmm, I suppose you all are still young, perhaps my usual punishments for men who interrupt a hunt can be bent.” Artemis’s gaze turned in Marinette’s direction. “What say you, daughter of Tyche? Are your powers strong enough to judge their statement true?”

Stephanie could see her girlfriend straighten her spine and tuck her chin determinedly before she replied, “Yes, I can do that.”

“And you will answer truthfully? You know I will know if you lie.” Artemis warned.

“Yes.” Marinette swore. 

“Hmm. Very well, show me your skills.” 

Marinette stepped forward, circling around the fallen buck and towards the boys. Jason was leaning just the slightest bit forward, while Luka seemed at ease. Stephanie’s eyes caught Luka’s and the amount of Zen in them was calming. Hopefully, he was calm because he had foreseen this gamble pay off. Stephanie could see Marinette’s hand raise to face their friends and a light pink glow started to emit from her hands, forming the Greek words for ‘ominous end’ over Jason’s head and ‘bright mayhem’ over Luka’s. Below, a timer formed, showing Luka’s current luck to have started at sunrise that morning, while Jason’s was marked in years, days, and hours. It wasn’t clear from what Stephanie could see whether Jason’s timer was moving backward or forward. It gave her chills either way.

Marinette’s voice rang out with her verdict: “Their luck was at fault today. It appears the Muses found these two to be fun to play with. Chance was at play.”

Shaking herself out of it, Stephanie stepped forward and pulled that sense of vengeance and judgement to the forefront of her mind as she spoke, “Since the hunt was not interrupted maliciously and was due to bad luck shared between the two, a shared punishment would be best. I propose the boy’s take the place of the buck in the hunt, but ask that they fall to no harm and their punishment ends at sundown. Do you agree this punishment is fitting, Artemis?” 

A mirthful chuckle left the goddess’s lips while a yelp exited Jason’s. Stephanie kept her eyes on the goddess’s; the boys were on their own if Stephanie let on she wasn’t as impartial as she wished to appear to be to the goddess.

“If a time limit is what’s called for, daughter of Nemesis, then so be it.” Artemis said. “I agree to your proposed punishment and am willing to ensure no permanent harm befalls them so long as they stay within the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood, but if we only have until sundown, they’d better work hard to keep the hunt challenging. You two won’t be prey animals, oh no, let’s see what predator’s you’ll be.” 

Artemis didn’t wait to hear from any of the campers present, including the boys, waving her hands in their direction even as Jason opened his mouth to argue. Jason’s comically open mouth shifted along with the rest of his body into the form of a mountain lion, leaving a large cat with a panting mouth in his place. Luka’s form shifted to that of a European lynx, even that unflappable friend of hers looking ungainly and awkward from the suddenness of the change. 

Both boy’s clothes and bags had disappeared in the shift and Stephanie couldn’t help hoping that they’d return with the boy’s human forms when they were changed back at sundown. She shuddered at the thought of leading two whining toddlers back to camp in nothing but their birthday suits, and if Luka lost that guitar he wouldn’t be able to play for her anniversary dinner with Marinette. There’s no way she’d be able to propose to Marinette without Luka’s musical help. Stephanie sent a prayer for continued good luck towards her soon-to-be mother-in-law, stepping back as Artemis said, “Let the hunt recommence!”

Chapter 3

This was worse than any stint he’d pulled in the Underworld. He’d lost Luka a while back when another hunting party found them. Luka had bounded for the trees and he’d headed in the direction of the river. His powers weren’t working in this form and it bit him pretty deep as it felt like an entire sense of his was missing. Since he’d ‘woken’ back up from his near perma-death after his mom had died and learned to access his control over the shadows and bones around him, he’d come to rely on them pretty heavily without realizing it. 

That was probably why he’d gotten Luka and himself into this mess in the first place; he didn’t realize that the clearing was entirely devoid of shadows and it was too close to midsummer for the clearing to allow him to hide in the shadows like he was used to. He’d managed to escape the hunting party on his tail but he was worried for his partner; moving in a new body and effectively becoming prey wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

~~

Luka could tell that this series of events was what his intuition was telling him would happen when he woke up this morning. All told, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever gotten himself into, and it was kinda cool to be able to leap from tree to tree and traverse the forest at this pace. It seems like most of the hunters had moved towards the river, as he hadn’t encountered any other hunters after losing his tail near the cliff face further inland. He was currently making his way towards the fort, figuring Jason would manage to follow the river to their intended destination without too much worry. For now, he’d enjoy this new body and feel the new rhythm he could feel through his paws and his nose while he waited for sundown. 

~~

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck. 

Claws were not for him. Whoever (read: himself and most definitely Steph) got him into this mess, they’d pay. That was the fourth hunting party he’d encountered and the second time he’d had to cross the river and backtrack to hide his tracks and he was sooo not down for the feel of wet fur. This just went to show how feathers and scales were so much better and why Emma and Darcy were the only pets for him; he could tell he wouldn’t want to pet an animal with fur for months after this.

Currently, he was hiding in a tree, taking a page out of his boyfriend’s book and hiding in the trees rather than at ground level. He could see Marinette and another girl from a different hunting party conversing about 10 yards away; there was no way he was getting down or giving away his position anywhere near where Artemis’s party could be found. That psycho goddess had it out for him, lenient his ass.

~~

Marinette could tell Jason was hiding in that tree, the water puddle slowly forming underneath him was a dead giveaway. She loved the goofball too much to actually hunt him though which was about the only bit of luck he’d seen today (she could tell). Honestly, he’d have been caught at least seven times by now if she hadn’t miraculously shifted the tides of luck surrounding him or redirected other hunters like she was doing now. Mirabelle was a nice girl, but a little too vicious to let her in on the game she was playing, so she was focused on sending her off on a wild goose (or cat) chase as soon as possible. 

“If we pincer attack, we can pin him down. “ a branch broke off from Jason’s direction and fell on the ground, causing Marinette to pause and do her best not to glare and give away the game. “...does that makes sense?”

“Yeah, I think the best bet would be for me to go down and try to pick up the trail, and run him back to you. Sounds good?” Mirabelle said.

“Yep, let’s do this!” Marinette sweetly smiled in reply.

Mirabelle nodded, turned, and Marinette watched her go, waiting until she was out of earshot to say, “You are the absolute worst human-in-cat-form I have ever seen.” 

Marinette marched over to Jason, seeing him freeze and look her dead in the eye. It wasn’t exactly easy to tell what Jason wanted to say, but she could fill in the gaps for him.

“You, monsieur, are going to give yourself away at this rate. I’d like to keep you in one piece if it’s all the same to you, so here’s what you’re going to do: head inland and away from the river. We were driving our prey towards the river to trap it, so any hunting party worth their salt will be crawling along the riverbed. You are going to head to the fort upstream and hide; not many other camp-goers go there as frequently as you and Luka do and it’s your best chance to stay out of Artemis’s sight. Stephanie and I will continue to run interference, but you are acting like a teenager going through a growth spurt with how clumsy you’ve been, and that’s saying something coming from me!”

The big cat scoffed at her, but leapt to the next tree, struggling a bit to land gracefully but not with too much trouble and continued on like that further inland as directed. Marinette didn’t watch for too long; she had a job to do.

~~

Luka ends up outpacing most of the hunters he’s encountered, but one is hot on his tail, following him at forest level as he makes his way through rocky outcrops to the fort. He’s not sure if it’s an official member of the hunt or another camp-goer, but he tries his best to wind his way  around boulders and choose outcroppings that blend in with his fur color to avoid his pursuer. 

Taking a small break, he waits in the shadow of an outcropping, watching. His pursuer is good; that he can tell, and he doesn’t want to lead them directly into the fort and make it even hard on him and Jason to get through this debacle. It seems, it’s time to call for help.

“Apollo, hear me please. Your companions the Muses have struck a game between Artemis and I, and I need your help. Grant me aid avoiding my pursuer.”

“Luka, son of mine.” Apollo’s amused tone filtered through his mind. “You’ve gotten yourself trapped by one of Artemis’s hunter’s I see. Very well, I will help you this once, but I will be joining as a spectator for this one. Artemis’s main trouble is with me, after all, and I’d like to see her face when she realizes you’re under my direct protection.”

Soon after, a flash of light appeared, blinding his pursuer, and Luka moved onward while she was distracted. 

~~

It was close to sundown, and Jason was finally in reach of the fort by the waterfall. After his encounter with Marinette, he’d seen evidence that Stephanie was also redirecting heat away from his passage through the forest, but it was still slow going. His bulk had almost ratted him out more than a few times, and he’d taken to any groundcover he could when possible as it was almost impossible for him to figure out how to move through the trees without sound. He was stealthy enough on two legs to give assassins a run for their money, but put him on four legs and he was worse than a toddler was at stealth. He hadn’t seen Artemis since the beginning, but knowing his normally catastrophic luck, that was only due to Marinette’s aid. 

Crawling forward, he inched his way around the watering hole below the waterfall in the direction of the fort, when suddenly an arrow passed in front of his paw and hit the stump he was crouched by….Clearly, Marinette’s blessing was wearing thin. Taking his chances, Jason bolted.

Arrows pelted behind him, and the aim they held was mocking in its accuracy. Just close enough to scare but not close enough to injure. The direction they came from was just as confusing as they seemed to originate from the water. 

Diving behind another tree, this time close enough to the fort to see his boyfriend peering from the battlements, he peered out in the direction of the water to see none other than Artemis hovering in place, this time in a blended form that combined the youthfulness and agelessness of the two forms he encountered her in earlier. She was also holding a really fucking scary recurve bow, so there’s that. 

“Come out and play, kitties. You know you know a good hunt is part of your deal with me.” Artemis crooned.

Jason wasn’t fucking moving, dying was not part of the deal. Unfortunately, it seems his slow arrival also allowed Artemis to set up an ambush as two women lept at him from the shadows (the traitors, he was going to train so much to overcome this dependency he’s built on them), forcing him to emerge. Jason kept his eyes pinned to Artemis, even as he heard others leave their hiding places to encircle the clearing at the base of the waterfall. 

He was trapped.

~~

Luka watched as his boyfriend was driven into the open. He was also being ushered out of the protection of the fort and into the open himself.

“Now would be a good time, dad.” he whispered his prayer.

~~

Marinette was about to lose the game she’d decided to play, and she was NOT happy. Nothing she could really do about it; she could see that the balance of luck and fortune were too stable to shift. 

She was so focused on trying to parse the threads of fate that she almost missed the flash of light that signaled Apollo’s arrival. Marinette did see Artemis whirling around to glare at the newcomer, though, a bright man in a Hawaiian shirt and chacos. Apparently, being a deity did not automatically give you god-tier fashion sense. 

“Artemis, dearest, what’s this I hear about a grudge against my son and his partner? I thought you left the animal transformations back in the Hellenistic period.” Apollo drawled. 

“You! I can’t believe you have the audacity to show up now of all times! Where have you been?” Artemis yelled.

“Sometimes a god has to go on vacation too;  you — of all of us — leave Olympus the most, dearest, so I assumed you’d understand.”

“Sometimes?! Sometimes doesn’t happen midway through a war council when you’ve promised to share a prophecy pertinent to the fight at hand! Ares about had my head about wasting the council’s time on petty matters because you flaked out to — where, Tahiti???”

“What can I say? Sometimes the sun in this hemisphere just isn’t it. I’ve got to share the light with everyone.”

“Apollo, you — !” screeching, Artemis brought her bow to bear on Apollo, shooting faster than even the demi-gods present could see.

Apollo was shifting around, using the last rays of the day’s light to bend away from her arrows, periodically reminding her “This is Camp Half-Blood, dearest.” and “You don’t want to hit one of your precious hunters, do you?”

Giving one last yell of frustration, Artemis released her quiver and lowered her bow and arrow, pinched her brow and said through gritted teeth, “Apollo, you insufferable child. You. Are. Coming. To. Olympus. With. Me.”

With a brief glance at the sky and a one-handed vice grip on Apollos bicep, Artemis stated, “A fine hunt, your debt is repaid.” Then she waived her hand towards the big cats seemingly frozen in place and teleported away. 

~~

Stephanie was closest to Jason and saw as his form crumpled to the ground, shifting back into human form. Stephanie ran to help him up even with the shadows swarming around him as his powers returned in a sudden influx. She grabbed him and hoisted him up onto his feet, keeping her hands firm and grounding while he readjusted to his normal form again.

Stephanie just thanked the gods that her friends weren’t naked after returning to normal.

“You two need to stop getting into so much trouble; you’re lucky Marinette and I were there to help.” Stephanie commented, finally releasing her hold on Jason to let him stand under his own power.

“Yeah, fuck you too.” Jason growled out.

~~

Luka picked himself off the ground, checking his guitar for any damage. He saw Marinette approach from the corner of his eye with her palm facing him, granting him good fortune, so he wasn’t too surprised that he couldn’t find any damage to his instrument on close inspection.

Luka glanced up at her and said, “Thank you, Melody. This day would have turned out much worse without your help.” 

Marinette just smiled softly at him in return. “Let’s go home.”

[petri808]

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*Note and question for readers at the end :)

Lucy’s eyes flashed wide as her emotions swung drastically from her own distress to the blood still dripping down Natsu’s cheek. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” She scrambled away from him, stumbling on her knees to right herself as she looked quickly around the room for any fabric. She grabbed a towel off the kitchen counter and rushed back, dropping to her knees as she pressed it to the wound. Tears renewed in her eyes. “Look at what she did, this is so bad! It’s gonna leave a scar for sure! Oh god,” her eyes flit back and forth rapidly from his face to his body, “and your side too! This is so bad!” The tears flowing down her cheeks were a mixture of emotions. Lucy lifted his shirt, flinching, fingers curling into the hem in anger as she sees the jagged wound on the side of his abdomen. If it had gone just a little deeper, he wouldn’t be sitting there with her and that really set her off! “You should’a let me beat her senseless! Look at this! She deserves to be in the same pain she put you through!”

Despite the physical pain, Natsu was trying desperately to keep his girlfriend from losing it again and seeing the wound was only riling her up further. He gently moved her shaky hands away from his side to push his shirt down again. “Lucy, it’s okay, really, d-don’t work yourself up, please? What’s important is we made it.”

“But still! This wasn’t fair!”

“Shhh, baby, it’s gonna be okay...”

“No, it’s not! Stop saying that!” Lucy snapped back. She wasn’t an idiot. She could see the pain in his grimaced features which only made her even more furious. “This will never be over. Those scars won’t go away! I’m gonna have nightmares, I know it! So, don’t you tell me it’s gonna be okay!”

Her emotions were in full throttle mode as she then flailed her bound wrists at the milling officers. “And will somebody get these damn ropes off me?!?!” One of the men cut her loose as she continued to scream and cry.

“I hate her! I hate her for what she’s done! I-I’ve never hated anyone before, but right now I just wanna... I just wanna...”

Still holding onto his side, Natsu used his left arm to pull his girl into a tight hug. He knew exactly what words were on the edge of her lips, but his current priority was calming her down and agreeing would only fuel her anger. “Lucy shhh,” he cooed in a soft tone, “it’s okay, baby it’s okay...”

“It’s not! It’s not!” Once again, Lucy slumped against him as another wave of hysterical sobbing racked her body. It wasn’t okay! She’d been kidnapped and almost killed! Her boyfriend was seriously injured all because Touka couldn’t except reality. None of this was okay! She couldn’t take much more of these roller coaster emotions. Sadness, anger, relief, they continued to alternate in her mind. Leaning back and fixing him in a narrowed and pained glare. “I thought I was gonna die— Natsu I just can’t stop thinking about that! Die, do you understand?!” Her chest heaved with every word. “I was so scared... so scared—,” her hand unconsciously moved up to cup around the front of her neck as if still feeling the sensation of the knife pressed against it. “I-I don’t even know how I kept myself from losing it... I just kept thinking, I gotta get out of here, I-I gotta figure out a way to save myself. And when she raised the knife—.” Her words cut off mid-sentence and eyes drifted to the spot they’d been standing in as if her thoughts halted in remembrance.

“Lucy,” Natsu cradled her cheek, pulling her gaze back onto him, “you are so much stronger then you give yourself credit for.”

She rolled her eyes in an exasperated sob. “If I’m so strong, then why am I crying now?!”

His eyes softened. “Because you can. You did what you had to stay alive and now you can let it all go. Baby, it’s okay to let it out. Let it all out and cry as much as you need to, cause I’ll hold you for as long as you need it.”

Lucy paused her words and simply cried for several minutes against his chest. She didn’t feel strong, and how was he staying so calm?! But oh, how she needed the reassurances. Deep down she knew he was just trying to help, knew what he was saying was the truth, but even if she’d wanted to stop thinking about these things, she couldn’t. The night played out on an endless loop in her mind’s eye. What could she have done to avoid this? Was there anything she could have said to stop Touka? She didn’t know if it was her heart or her head trying to tell her no, that nothing would have changed the woman’s plans. But once the dam had broken, her mind just wasn’t ready to fully let go. It was too angry about everything, even feared just how angry this was all making her feel. Lucy didn’t like it one bit. Ugh! What was Touka turning her into?!

“I wanted to kill her, Natsu... does that make me bad just like her?”

Those words whispered out by Lucy as she rested her head on his shoulder, stunned Natsu, but he could understand the reasoning. In such a heated moment when instincts took over, it’s either kill or be killed and he could admit to himself, if he’d had the chance, he would have done so too. But Touka had proven to be a a lot tougher then she looked. Perhaps the woman was running on the same anger that now plagued his girlfriend? It was perfectly clear how both he and Lucy were going to need therapy after this if they were to get back to a normal life, but he also needed to cling to hope, to make sure Touka didn’t succeed in ruining the rest of their lives.

He kissed her temple. “It’s normal to feel that way, but you’re not a killer,” Natsu reassured Lucy in a soft tone. “That’s just not who you really are.”

His words seemed to work for the time being as the woman quieted enough for the medical workers who’d arrived to start their job. The wound to Lucy’s neck was quickly cleaned and bandaged, but Natsu’s injuries were much more severe. The EMT’s cleaned and stapled the cheek and side wounds, but he’ll need to be taken to the hospital for scans to ensure it didn’t knick any internal organs, as well as to better suture the wounds.

A flurry of more officers had descended to start an investigation, of which Gajeel took the lead. And there was a wealth of information in the apartment to document. As they’d already learned, Touka was a former schoolmate of Natsu from high school who had reams of pictures, print outs from social media, even personal information on Natsu as well as Lucy that they would need to figure out how she’d somehow obtained. The woman hadn’t been kidding about stalking the man for years.

Once the officers had arrived, everything became a blur for Lucy who felt pulled in multiple directions all at once. She was so overwhelmed by the flood of information and experiences that her mind was shutting down, body numbed in an adrenaline stupor. Medical personnel were trying to work on Natsu and attend to her superficial neck wound, while detectives were asking them questions about the ordeal. When they’d tried to separate the couple to interview them, Lucy wasn’t having it, clinging harder to the man so they’d given up.

No, she’d knocked me out, so I don’t know how she got me here. Yes, I woke up bound on the floor. Yes, she’d kept the knife to my throat most of the time. Yes! Most of the time! How long... how the fuck should I know?! She moved it briefly to think! No, I don’t know how long I was unconscious, does it really matter?!

Any strides Natsu had made at calming her down went out the window. Lucy’s whole body was shaking in anger as she cradled her head to block them out. She was seriously about to have a mental break down right then and there. “Can everyone give me some fucking breathing room?! We told you this was fucking serious, but you didn’t believe us!”

Natsu too, had grown frustrated by the pointed and emotionless questioning. Here they’d just been through a harrowing ordeal, and these police offers were victimizing his girlfriend for a second time! He snapped at one of the detectives to stop traumatizing Lucy. “The woman was seconds away from being killed, have some fucking compassion!”

That’s when Gajeel, who’d had his hands full directing everything, finally stepped in and told the other detectives to cool it for now, growling at them to remember they were the victims. “You fuckers worry about collecting physical evidence. I’ll deal with the interviews once they’re cleared by the doctors!” He then redirected back to the couple. “Levy’s gonna meet you two at the hospital, then once the doctors are done, you’ll come to my office for an interview. It’s gonna be rough, not gon’ lie, but I’ll try to make the process as easy on you as I can.”

“Thanks, man,” Natsu expressed a sincere gratitude to Gajeel who simply nodded back and directed the EMT’s to take them to the hospital.

Lucy helped Natsu to his feet and the couple are guided downstairs to the awaiting ambulance. As they pass by the other apartments, it’s obvious the whole incident had drawn the attention of residents or neighbors, who peered through windows or tracked with eyes the couple walking by. It was creepy, irritating, calling upon what little reserves she had to not stop walking and snap. She wanted to scream, mind your business! Till she realized if they hadn’t done so in the first place, maybe someone would have caught onto Touka’s behaviors sooner. Did the woman really have no friends? If anyone had visited the apartment and saw the Natsu collage plastered all over the wall, it would have raised eyebrows in the least. Or maybe... no one cared... it’s not a stretch to think any friends Touka has are just as crazy as she is. Not even the police cared enough to take them seriously. Why? Because it’s just too strange for a woman to be so mentally unstable? Probably chalked it all up to a lovers triangle gone wrong. What if?! What if?! What if?! Lucy’s mind was starting to race again with thought, after negative thought pulsing through faster then she could process them.

Her hand started tightening on Natsu’s as they sat side by side in the ambulance causing him to look over and question her. “Lucy, you okay?” His worried tone growing with each second. Her body was shivering yet tense, head shaking no, eyes wide but glassy, and breathing growing labored in rapid bursts. The EMT sitting across from them watching the events unfold, reached out to take Lucy’s wrist. She flinched but doesn’t pull it back. After a few seconds of silence, the man let go and warned that her pulse was racing.

“Miss, you’re having a panic attack.”

Question for readers below:

There was 4 more chapters planned, but depending on how things play out I may need to add more as needed. While the major things I wanted to hit upon were planned out in advance, I never know where the characters and stories will take me lol.

A question for any readers who see this note is: How much of Lucy's recovery from this ordeal would you like to see or should I delve into? It would lengthen the amount of angst, but also add to the growing relationship and bond between Natsu and Lucy.

Thoughts? Comment in the notes :)

[elysianecho]

Steve Rogers is a Klutz™

Summary: Getting shot by mobsters and finding Captain America and Spiderman on a roof in the span of one week is weird. 

Getting shot, meeting two Avengers, getting helped by one of those Avengers, and then meeting the rest of the gang?

"What is my life coming to?”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x cop!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, some blood, reader being stalked, mentions of gunfights, people falling off ladders. I think that’s everything? Let me know if I’ve missed something!

Word Count: 6593

A/N: This is might make it on time. This is a smidge late. I’m SOOOOO sorry, Anika! Please forgive me. Life is dumb. 

Anyway! This is for @anika-ann​’s 500 Celebration! You rock, girl! My prompt was: 

“Say something so we know you’re okay!” “Ow.” 

It will be bolded in the story.

This is a hot mess but: Enjoy!! :D

~~~~~

Why was he here again?

“Okay, so, there’s been these guys that have, like, lasers and bombs and stuff—”

Oh, yeah. 

Steve watched as Peter explained what the latest baddies had been up to in Queens. Judging by the amount of arm waving Peter was doing, he was explaining through interpretive dance. He was in fact, listening to Peter, but he was also keeping an eye on their surroundings. According to Peter, the baddies were supposed to hit a bank near here tonight. 

“Listen, kid, ya gotta analyze what’s going on around you before you start to jump in. Otherwise you’re gonna miss—” 

“Like that door opening?” Peter said, pointing. Steve raised his shield and looked to the roof access door to see a woman step through it backward. She turned and stopped when she saw them. In all honesty, it wasn’t hard to miss Captain America and Spiderman on an empty rooftop.

She blinked at them. She held two brown glass bottles in one hand, a book and bag of chips  in her arms, and her phone was lighting her shocked face. 

Steve lost most of the ‘choose-your-fighter’ stance, lowered his shield, and extended a hand to show they meant no harm. Peter was muttering under his breath and looking from the woman to Steve. 

“I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything. And I don’t smell anything either,” she said, removing an earbud, “Imma sit right over there and enjoy the sunset.” She moved to a corner and set her things down. Steve noticed a wince as she stood straight and pulled a folding lawn chair from a crevice and set it up. 

“What do you mean you don’t smell anything?” Steve asked, finally finding his voice in this weird situation. 

She sat down slowly, wincing, twisted the cap off a bottle and took a swig before she grinned at him. He expected alcohol, but the scent of sassafras hit his nose instead.

“Here’s a tip, Spidey,” she said, looking at Peter, “a little cologne goes a long way.” She popped a chip in her mouth and swung one foot at a time on the chair to get comfortable. 

Steve looked to Peter who was...smelling his armpit? He hadn’t even realized he was wearing an overabundance of cologne; the kid spent so much time at the Compound anymore it was just—. Steve sighed. It was normal. Great. A supersoldier got so used to someone wearing so much fragrance he became nose-blind to it. But a civilian? Who just happened upon them one night? No problem. 

“Also, friendly tip: if you’re gonna keep your ‘secret identity’,” she said with a wide grin and exaggerated air-quotations,  “a continuing secret, wear a different cologne when you’re in the suit.” Steve grabbed Peter by the shoulder and pushed him toward the far side of the roof. 

“If you’ll excuse us, ma’am,” Steve said, nodding to her. She gave a two-fingered salute and an ‘aye-aye, Cap’n’ as the two moved their position. 

~~~~~

It was three days later when Steve was trying to take a walk through the town that he got an odd feeling he was being followed. He and Peter had taken care of the guys they were after: low-level crooks with high-level weapons. A very bad mixture in Steve’s mind.  

But now, he didn’t sense danger necessarily, he didn’t hear anything menacing, and it wasn’t like it was a flock of teenagers following him again. That he could hear a mile away over rush hour traffic. Plus, the beard and longer hair helped him blend a bit more.

He kept his stride and turned down an alley to take a couple shortcuts to see if his tag-a-long could keep up. Two minutes later, down this alley, back onto the main street, and down another alley, the feeling was still there. Turning once more, he backed up against the wall and waited. Once his follower got close enough to the corner, he snatched them, forcing them against the wall. 

This was something he didn’t expect. 

A gasp, the sound of boxes falling, paper crumpling, and a wry smile followed by: 

"Well, hello to you, too, handsome."

Her again.

"Why are you following me?" he said, moving his hands over her sides and down her thighs. Call him paranoid, but two years on the run will do that to you. 

"Gun and permit are on the waistband," she said, her hands halfheartedly raised. She spread her legs, just to see how far Captain America would go to pat down a woman carrying her groceries. 

Which he finally took notice of when he had to move a bag of green beans to lift her pant leg.  She bit back a groan when he brought his hands up to her sides again and around to her back. 

She had to admit, of all the pat downs she's had in her career, this had to be her favorite: Exceptionally attractive man? Check. Very smooth, deep voice? Check.  Warm, rough hands that weren't too rough while gliding down her thighs? Check and check.

Ever since the pardon, Steve Rogers remained a sort of enigma. He still went on missions, which she witnessed just the other night, but he had pulled so far back from the PR world that people were trying to figure out if Captain America was the same person.

Steve ran his hands along her back and found the gun on her waistband and— 

"You're a cop," he said, exasperated, holding up her badge. She let her hands fall, smirk still on her face. "Why are you following me?" 

"Well, I was out getting groceries, which you probably smashed the eggs, by the way, thanks for that—" she said, taking her offered badge back. 

"Why is an off-duty cop getting groceries following me in broad daylight?" Steve asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Because I really just wanted to stare at your ass—I'm being followed, you doofus,"she hissed at him. 

"What?" Steve was instantly on high alert, listening more closely to passersby on the main street and all around. He chanced a peek around the corner to see if anyone had followed her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Why didn't you just call for back up?"

"Long story," she said looking around as well. She pulled back when she saw people round the corner, only to be caged in by tree-trunk arms from an annoyed Avenger. 

"I've got time."

"I don't," she said, staring at him incredulously. 

Steve Rogers was one cocky little shit. He had the nerve to lean on his forearms, prop one elbow on the wall to rest his head in his hand, and cross his legs at the ankle. His face and body just inches from her own. God, he smelled amazing.

Late June was hot. Late June plus very close proximity to a very stubborn, very attractive supersoldier? She may as well be on the surface of the sun. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly to calm her heart rate. 

"Come out, come out, Queenie. We know you're there." 

The sing-song voice came just around the corner from where she and Steve were standing. 

Her heart rate didn't stand a chance of slowing down. 

Steve's brow furrowed, and he regained some of his earlier tension. He watched her eyes widen and flit back and forth. It almost looked like a plea for help, but her gaze hardened; she was planning something. Probably something stupid. 

He pulled his phone out and set up the camera. Taking a picture— albeit blurry, sue him—he held it up for her to see. There were ten men looking around every corner, behind every doorway. 

She ran a hand down her face. There had only been four when she last saw them. They were getting smarter. 

She opened her eyes when the temperature dropped. Steve had moved back and was looking around the alley, formulating his escape plan. She reached for her gun, but his hand caught her arm and he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips as the men called out for her once more. They were getting closer. 

He pulled her further down the alley, groceries forgotten, both of them trying to be as quiet as possible. He stopped when he reached the fire escape and cupped his hands, eyebrows raised asking: you ready?

Oh Lord, she had to put her hands on him?

If she wasn't looking at him, she never would've heard his whispered, "Hey!" She shook her head and put her foot in his hands and one hand on his shoulder. 

Is this what it feels like to fly? He lifted her like she was nothing and she barely had to pull herself onto the fire escape. Though the stitches in her side still pulled and she bit her lip to stop the hiss of pain. 

Steve backed up to the opposite wall and took a running jump. His foot barely touched the dumpster, and somehow he managed to not make a sound when he landed on the escape. 

He just smirked and shrugged when he saw her bewildered face. She rolled her eyes. 

The voices were louder now, triumphant: they found her groceries. She silently mourned her ice cream as she and her cohort climbed. 

The rig was old and even though Steve wasn't making a sound, the metal was. He grabbed her elbow five stories up, making her stop. He had his finger to his lips again, then pointed below them. 

"I know you're here somewhere, Queenie, I just wanna talk to ya," one man said, adjusting his cuff links. He was the best dressed of all of them but Steve could see the outline of a gun in his suit jacket. 

"C'mon, ya don't wanna play with me anymore?" he said, as his men were still searching below and further on.

This guy was starting to creep Steve out. He still had no idea what this woman had gotten herself into, but the saccharine tone of his voice made him sick. 

"I'm real sorry, I hurt ya, sweetheart. I promise, I won't do it again," he was finally moving on from the alley along with his posse. 

They stayed still for another moment while he was still in view at the mouth of the alley. He stood looking out at the main street with his hands in his pockets. 

Steve motioned for her to continue. They were one flight away from the roof when Back in Black started blaring from Steve's phone. 

He scrambled to turn it off, but when he pulled it out of his pocket with such panicked force, it slipped. Right out of his hands and down. Clanging on the rail and singing all the way down to shatter on the unforgiving concrete below. 

He heard her move up the last flight, while he just cringed staring down at the broken pieces. Tony was going to kill him.

Great.

 The suit had walked over to investigate. And he looked straight up at Steve. 

Great.

"Hey! Sorry 'bout that! Butterfingers, ya know?" he said, waving, "Can ya do me a favor and just toss it in the nearest can? The wife's gonna kill me if I don't finish dinner." 

The suit just stared at him, disgusted. He reached in his jacket and Steve prayed that his companion had made it to the roof. He brought a pack of cigarettes out and lit one, walking away from the broken pieces. 

"Hey, thanks, pal!" Steve said, turning and taking the last flight two stairs at a time. He hopped over the ledge and found her on her back, hands on her face in annoyance, and a red spot on her side. 

"Are you bleeding?!" he asked, rushing to her and landing on his knees. He scanned the rooftop and the adjacent buildings looking for a sniper. What kind of trouble was she in, anyway?

"Am I?" she moved her hands and sat up. Her breath hitched and she laid back down. "Ah, yup, stitches probably ripped."

"Can I?" he said, gesturing to her shirt. She waved a dismissive hand and he slowly pulled her shirt up. She was right: the stitches under her breast had ripped and what he could safely assume was a bullet wound, was bleeding again. 

"There goes the bra…" she muttered, rubbing her temple, "and it was a cute one too."

Steve shrugged a shoulder as he reached in his back pocket for a handkerchief. He glanced around at the nearby roofs once more before turning back to apply the cloth to the wound. She was staring at him. Smirking.

"Did you just...agree that my bra was cute?" she asked, her smirk turning into a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners.

His gaze dropped to her wound again, brow furrowed, as he put pressure on the wound. A low hiss escaped her, but it was quickly replaced by the same grin. 

"Hmm. The eyebrow quirk and head tilt said you did. Name's Y/N, by the way," she said, getting him to glance at her. His hair was falling in his face and she couldn't help but think it just made him look extra handsome. "Figured you should know mine since I already know yours."

"Thought it was 'Queenie'," he said, a small grin playing on his face. The grin fell when her gaze hardened. 

"He shouldn't know it," she shook her head and ran a hand down her face. Before Steve could question, she waved his hand away from her side. She tucked part of the cloth under her bra and sat up with the help of Steve's large hand on her back. 

Steve moved back to give her some room before he asked, "What do you mean he shouldn't know it?"

"I dressed up one Halloween as a character named 'Queenie' and now that's what my whole precinct calls me. No one else calls me Queenie," she said.

Steve listened as she explained that she had been assigned to this particular precinct. Apparently due to suspicion that one or many of its members had close mob ties. Now she had proof, but no clue who to look for. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Y/N squinted and pointed over Steve's shoulder. 

"Hey, isn't that your buddy Iron Man?" 

Sure enough, it was. Steve turned back to face Y/N and just raised a hand in a lazy wave and sighed like an exasperated teenager about to get scolded.

Y/N grimaced at the loud sound of the Iron Man's repulsors. He dropped down at the edge and walked over, his helmet disappearing to reveal his face. It was a very annoyed face. 

"So you're just gonna ignore me now?" he said, stopping next to Steve and crossing his arms. 

"Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tony," Steve said, gesturing one to the other. 

"Yeah, hi," Tony waved in Y/N's direction, then turned to Steve again, then back to Y/N, "Are you aware—you're bleeding."

The drastic tone change made Y/N blink. He spun his around to her so fast she thought his neck broke. She looked to Steve who had a hand over his face, but she could see his brows knit together as he shook his head. His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle.

"Wow, it is true," Y/N said, looking at Tony, "You really are a genius." 

Between the baffled look on Tony's face and the strangled laugh-turned-cough from Steve, her day was a whole lot better.

"Yes, we're both aware I'm bleeding. Captain Handsome over here was helping me avoid some trouble. This is a few days old, the stitches just ripped," she explained. Tony just quirked an eyebrow and a wide grin spread on his face.

"'Captain Handsome'? Oh that's definitely gonna be a thing, now," Steve's groan of disapproval cut through, but Tony paid him no mind, "Anyway, we need to get you patched up, and you were supposed to help set up-"

"Wanda's birthday, ah, shit!" was muffled as he ran both hands over his face and back into his hair. Y/N blinked.

"Captain America swears?" she said, looking at Tony who just shook his head in blatant disappointment. 

"Like a sailor. Romanoff's bringing the car around, so grab our invalid and bring her to the Compound. Romanoff, can you bring the car around?" Tony said, walking to the edge of the roof. Y/N tried to deny being taken with them, but Tony closed his helmet and blasted off. 

She looked to Steve who stood and held out a hand to help her up. Reluctantly (or not, he had very nice hands) she took it.

"Seriously, just drop me off at my apartment and I'll be fine. You've already helped enough," she said. 

Steve just shook his head and started leading her towards the roof access. "Not happening. I was already thinking about it, anyway.  Dr. Cho should have you patched up in no time."

Y/N groaned. How was she supposed to fight Avengers exactly?

~~~~~

Dr. Helen Cho has very kind eyes. But when she says 'go', even Steve Rogers moves. Y/N was introduced to her and then immediately directed (read forced) onto a table after her shirt and bra were (forcibly) removed and replaced with a hospital gown so fast the embarrassment didn't hit her until after Dr. Cho's machine was stitching her up. 

Or whatever it did. 

Y/N looked at her wound in the bathroom mirror. There was no scar, no trace of the bullet hole or the stitches. Still amazed at the technology, she lowered the borrowed hoodie and made her way back into the lab. Black Widow, or Natasha, was waiting with a small smile.

"I really want to thank you guys for everything, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, because I am! But I should probably be getting home…" 

Her smile tightened and her nose scrunched. "Mm, about that."

Y/N blinked. "Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means." 

Her smile twisted up a little more before she grabbed Y/N's hand and began pulling her back to where Y/N thought was the living room. 

This week was just getting weirder and weirder by the second. Natasha pulled her by the hand the whole way and Y/N made no move to let go either; it was oddly comforting, and Y/N didn't even realize she needed it. She briefly wondered what it would be like to hold Steve's hand. 

She immediately grabbed that thought, stuffed it in a box, put that box in another box, duct taped the whole thing, and buried it. 

Crushes on celebrities were fine. If you've met them, cool, good for you. If you've been as close as Y/N had, you should be commended and given 'The World's Luckiest Bitch' medal. 

But she didn't want to get her hopes up. Chances are they'd just be crushed. Probably under a star-spangled shield or something much more terrifying. Nope, she may as well crush those feelings now before they got out of hand. 

Natasha took her down several halls to see a lounge room where several were gathered watching what seemed to be Lord of the Rings. Y/N didn’t recognize any of them, but judging by all the lab coats strewn all over the chairs and various snacks, they were probably just on a break. 

A couple turns and an elevator ride up a few floors, Natasha's hand still holding hers, and down more hallways Natasha finally stopped and opened the door to a conference room.

Y/N was completely lost as to where they were in the building, but she wouldn't really need to know. She'd be going home soon anyway.

"Is that my apartment?!" 

Steve, Tony, and Bucky Barnes turned at the sound of her voice, but her eyes were locked on the screen behind them. 

Most of it was nonsensical gibberish to her, but the main picture was her apartment building. On fire. Specifically her apartment. And the one next to it, too, where she knew the couple next door. They had just had a baby.

"Tell me no one was in there," she whispered, her voice starting to shake, "Tell me no one was home, Steve, they had a baby. You tell me no one was home!"

She had moved around the table, volume rising with every step. Steve put his hands on her shoulders when she grabbed him by the shirt. 

"Mom and baby are fine, they weren't home," he said, voice quiet and calm, "Dad's in the hospital with a few broken bones and scrapes, but he'll be fine, Y/N."

Steve thought he would get lost in her eyes earlier, now it felt like she stared into his soul. She took a shaky breath in and out, closed her eyes, and breathed again. It was when she was finally able to release his shirt that Tony spoke.

"Looks like you didn’t make it out, though," he said, turning the volume up. She turned to him and saw some blonde news reporter stating that one person had been killed in the explosion ("Ex- explosion?" was whispered as Steve helped her to a chair and sat her down.) 

Her own face stared back at her. Her name was on the news. 

Blood rushed in her ears and drowned out whatever was being said, whether on tv or in the room. Mind racing, she tried to figure out what her next step should be: who does she call? Does she call anyone? Can she? Not knowing which of her supposed brothers and sisters she could trust. The proverbial brakes came screeching to halt when she heard—

“Hydra?”

Natasha had joined Bucky in looking at a file on the table and Tony was sitting on its edge; they all turned to look at her. When she stayed silent, Steve moved from behind her chair and leaned his hip against the table. He said her name, snapping her attention back to reality. 

“Did you say Hydra?” she asked. Bucky nodded. “No, no, no. We’re talkin’ Clair Vitali, yeah, he’s no small fry, but he’s not Hydra. That’s crazy! Sure he’s a megalomaniac, but he’s not that smart. He shot me in broad daylight and had the balls to follow me in broad daylight, but then again, he had the balls to follow me in broad daylight and he does have some pull up on high. I wonder if that’s how he got Roca’s territory…” 

Steve thought she was going to burn a hole into the table with how she stared at it. Bucky chuckled and looked at Steve.

“She talked herself into it,” he grinned, “Didn’t even have to show her evidence. But it does look like the explosives they used were from Hydra. Not just with your house, but multiple others.” Y/N looked up as the screen changed to show five other bombings. Ones she didn’t even know were connected to Vitali. “And I remember seeing him around Rumlow a lot.” 

Rumlow.

Something about that name rang a bell. A gruff laugh, dark hair, an easy smile, and honey colored eyes filled her mind. 

"Brock Rumlow?"she asked. They all nodded. She grimaced and muttered, “Glad I didn’t go on that date with him, then. Oh-kay! So. Now what? Hydra is way out of my league. How do we handle this?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shot almost to his hairline and Steve let out a strangled “Date?!” as Tony just turned back to the screen and started talking to the air. To her surprise the air spoke back. Oh, yeah. He’s Tony Stark. AI’s are a thing here. 

She heard Natasha’s chuckle and chanced a glance at Bucky, his expression was locked on Steve who she did not glance at. She was far too invested on the screen; her eyes locked on a familiar face, she stood slowly. Steve said her name and she blinked. 

“Bottom right,” she said, pointing, “That’s Charlie and, Houser, our captain.” 

Tony brought it up front and center showing the captain standing straight, and her partner behind him, hands clasped and shoulders slumped. He looked truly dejected. Angry. He kept his eyes low while the captain gave his statement on her supposed murder. No, he didn’t say murder. He said death. Death. Like an accident. Like her home spontaneously combusted. Like she wasn’t hunted like a wild animal, beaten, shot, and thrown into the river. The blood in her veins boiled watching him give his speech. 

“This is a day of grieving for us all. This is such a tragic loss for this precinct, for this city. Officer L/N was a treasure; a hardworking—”

“That’s detective, you monumental bastard,” she spat. Tony turned with a raised brow and a smirk. “We don’t really get along.”

“—shows no sign of tampering, but we will dig further to get to the truth of this atrocity—” 

She wondered who gave him this false information and thought about what she was going to do to them. If the police had been in her apartment, they should know whether or not it had been a bomb or some sort of malfunction. 

And then her fire was extinguished. 

He sniffed. 

She watched as Charlie’s brow furrowed and for the first time he looked up at the captain. His hands clenched into fists before he moved them behind his back. The captain continued his speech, sniffing again. 

“That sorry, low-down, pig-headed—” she shoved the chair and stepped away from the table, taking deep breaths, almost panting. 

“Hey, easy,” came from Steve who put a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” She took another breath and held it for a beat, then two, sure he could feel her pulse racing. Her fists clenching and releasing, she let the breath go, slowly, controlled, before she turned to him. 

“He’s in on it. He’s the connection to Vitali. That sniff?” she pointed back to the screen, “That’s his tell. The man can’t play poker to save his life! And that bullshit story about me being, what’d he say? ‘A treasure?’ Ha!” She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, trying not to think about how Steve seemed to be subconsciously rubbing his thumb in small circles on her shoulder. Taking another deep breath, she looked up at him once more. 

“And now that I know who the connection is, I have a good idea about who else is on Vitali’s payroll.”

~~~~~

Hello, Queenie. 

You wanna play?

Her eyes snapped open and her heart hammered in her chest. She sat up, gun raised, and looked around the room. This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t her house. 

Breathing became harder for her and her hand started shaking. But when the faint smell of a musky cologne reached her nose, she remembered blue eyes staring into her own. Her next breath was shaky, but she put the gun beside her on the bed. She’ll have to thank Natasha for giving her one of Steve’s shirts. 

Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs off the bed and made sure her legs weren’t wobbly before standing and walking out of the room. Ice cream was much needed. Now. 

Where the hell was the kitchen?

She tried to get a map in her mind, but, instead of directing her to her destination, it throbbed and refused to do any work. Forcing her feet to walk ten steps to her left, she faced her next obstacle. Waking the beast. 

She knocked three times. Silence. Three times more. 

“Fuckin— hang on!” 

Captain America swears like a sailor. She couldn’t stop the grin creeping on her face. Judging by the thudding and even more swearing, he was having some difficulty. Thirty seconds later the door disappeared and she flinched, stepping back.

Steve Rogers sleeps nude. 

In her peripheral, she could just barely see that he was holding a sheet around his waist. She didn’t dare to actually look, but tilted her head to see his face instead.

This was possibly the best decision she’d ever made. 

Steve Rogers with bed head. ‘World’s Luckiest Bitch’ indeed. 

She pursed her lips to keep the giggles from escaping. Sleepy, grumpy Steve was so cute. As she committed it to her long-term memory, he rubbed his face and let out a muted ‘shit’. 

“I thought you were gonna be Bucky,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. “What’s up? You okay?”

Oh, Lord, his voice. Abort mission. Abort. 

“I— uh, was gonna get some ice cream, but um, I’ll— I’ll just let you get back to sleep,” she said. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much. Gesturing to his attire, she couldn’t help but giggle, “Obviously you’re waiting for Bucky, so…” 

Confused even more by her laughter, the dolt looked down at himself, let out a louder ‘Fuck!’ and slammed the door shut. Steve continued his stream of obscenities as they both realized his sheet had gotten shut in the door. A short burst of laughter rang in the hall before she clapped both hands over her mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, Queenie.”

Removing her hands and breathing, she took a moment to actually appreciate him. He now had on dark jeans and an unzipped jacket baring his broad chest to the world. He was really trying to kill her. And she would let him. 

But when he ran a hand through his hair, she was done. 

Giggle-drunk and trying not to be a thirsty hoe, she started towards the kitchen. Until Steve called to her again. When she turned, he was sporting that ridiculous smirk and pointing in the opposite direction. She threw her hands in the air, the shirt raising just enough to draw Steve’s eyes down to her bare legs. 

“Come on, Rogers, why are you keeping me from my ice cream? You owe like two gallons anyway,” she said, grabbing him the jacket and pulling him along. 

They finally made it to their destination after he had to grab her by the shirt and redirect her twice; he damn near strutted to the freezer and began naming off the flavors they had stashed away. 

“Seriously?” she asked, looking at his choice of butter pecan in disgust. 

“I already told you once, Queens, shut the fuck up,” he said, jabbing a finger in her direction. Ignoring the swarm of butterflies and heat rising in her face, she waved a dismissive hand and let loose an ‘aha!’ when she found the bowls. She frowned and stood on her toes because seriously, who puts the bowls on the top shelf? Fine.  

She did what needed to be done. She climbed onto the counter. Just being on her knees gave her the necessary boost to reach her goal. A shiver ran through her when a deep chuckle came from behind her. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Steve asked, leaning against the island. 

“Immensely,” she said, smirking, “Is the counter the only thing holding you up right now?” 

“At the moment, yes.” 

She giggled and handed him two bowls and hopped down, ready to devour the sweet, cold, goodness that was ice cream. 

Somehow this was right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt...safe. Sitting in nothing but a borrowed shirt and her underwear with a barely-dressed supersoldier eating ice cream at God-only-knows-what time in the morning.  

“What is my life coming to?”

Steve looked up at her. They sat at the table, and for a long time were swapping funny stories about their teams. Her mind swirled with the new facts she’d learned just a few hours before, and even though she knew that the people she’d worked with for two years were not all they appeared, it still hurt. 

“Thanks, Steve. For everything.”

As if she needed another reason to swoon over this beast of a man, he looked at her with such sincerity and gave a crooked smile. She swallowed. 

“Anytime.”

Well that just won’t do. 

“Even at 3 o’clock in the morning?”

“Now wait a damn minute—”

~~~~~

With the Avengers on the case, it only took a day to gather enough information on her captain and several others that were in league with Vitali and Hydra. 

Now their plan was going into action. 

Despite her nerves about walking back into this building, she stood strong. Not to mention she had back up this time. 

Clair Vitali owned several hotels in New York. His reach spread much further than other mob families, and one by one, he seemed to swallow them up. She had very little knowledge of the layout of this building, but again, with the Avengers, impossible was simply not in their vocabulary. 

She and Steve were parked across the street in one of Tony’s mustangs. When she told him what hotel he usually frequented, he agreed that using a more high-profile car would be acceptable. 

“You sure about this, Y/N?” Steve asked. His gaze shifted from the hotel doors to her in the passenger seat. 

“A smidge,” she looked at him, “I just want this over with.” 

Steve nodded and looked back to the hotel. Vitali was here. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, but leaned back down to the window. 

“Besides, after being in a car with you driving, this’ll be a cake-walk,” she said, grinning. Steve opened his mouth to defend his driving skills when Bucky’s voice cut through their earpieces. 

“Punk, you wreck every vehicle you go into a fight with. Don’t start.” 

Four other voices agreed with him. Tony was going into his threat about Steve wrecking this car as Y/N started to cross the street. 

Blood pounding in her ears, she threw open the door and walked up to the front desk. The young man politely asked how he could be of service, despite his look of distaste at her attire. She flashed him a smile. 

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Vitali,” she said. The look on this poor kid’s face almost made her laugh. He started to sputter and say that her request wouldn’t be possible; he was in a very important meeting and she might be able to schedule something in the future. She hummed and shook her head. 

“Unfortunately, it has to be now. I’m sure he’s missed me the past couple days and I just can’t leave him waiting any longer, sir.”

“Miss, I’m very sorry, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed—”

She sighed. 

“Alright. I didn’t want to play this card, but…” she laid her badge on the counter, pushing it towards the man. Whether or not he knew what his boss was really into, the color drained from his face. 

“You tell him Queenie’s here to play.” 

As he made a frantic phone call, she hopped up on the counter and sat, swinging her legs, making a call of her own. The voice that answered was hesitant. 

“...Y/N?” 

She smiled. 

“Hey, Chuckles. Listen, you’re gonna get a call about the Foundry Hotel in a few minutes. Bring back up. Don’t be surprised.”

“On it.”

She put her phone back in her pocket and waited. It didn’t take three minutes before grunts with guns surrounded the desk. Some actual patrons screamed and started to scatter, fleeing the building. Clair came swooping in and stood, behind his troops, grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew you’d come back to me, Queenie,” he said, “I was really hoping we’d have this little reunion at your funeral, but we can make this work—”

“Cut the bullshit, Clair, where’s Houser? I know he’s here.” She looked around the vast entry hall and into the restaurant where more people were huddled, being contained by more of the brute squad. “It’d be a cryin’ shame to kill me off and not celebrate your victory!” 

“You’re looking pretty good, sugar, you get all healed up?” Clair asked, chuckling. She nodded, still swinging her legs as if it was just another day at the park.

“I did. I found friends in high places. But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, jumping down. Some of the men shifted. “Being in league with Hydra and all.” 

Something glinted in his eye. She had him. 

Everything after that happened fast: bullets flew, glass shattered, people screamed.

The next thing she knew her ears were ringing. Everything was too bright, too loud. Too blurry. She couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe. The only thing she saw clearly were piercing blue eyes. A voice cut through the fog. 

Queens! C’mon, just say something! 

~~~~~

 Wanda and Vision were due to be home from their island getaway in just a few minutes and everyone was running rampant around the living room. Streamers were hung from all over. A giant cake was being shielded by Bucky from Clint’s wandering hands. 

And some idiot put Steve Rogers on a ladder to hang the banner. 

“Hey, Queens, can ya tell me if it’s straight?” 

She walked away from the ladder and next to Tony to get a better view. And, boy, did she. Steve’s ass looked great in jeans. She hummed appreciatively. 

“Looks, great, Stevie. Now please get down, my blood pressure’s out the roof,” she said. She turned to Tony. “Don’t you have, like, robots or something to do this?” 

“I do, but this is payback for not helping sooner,” Tony said, sipping a lemonade. She nodded. 

“Really, Tony?” Steve started, “I told you, I dropped my phone! I was not ignoring you!” 

The two started to throw snark between them and Y/N just rolled her eyes. Steve tried to stop on the ladder and turn to look at Tony. He missed about two steps and got his leg caught between rungs. 

To say the look of horror on his face wasn’t funny would be an outright lie. 

The crashing and clanging drew everyone’s attention. Others asked if everything was okay and what happened. The two closest ran over and moved the ladder off  Steve. 

“Stevie,” Y/N said, lightly tapping his face, “hey, say something so we know you’re okay!” 

Steve just groaned and cracked an eye open to look at her. 

“Ow.”

Bucky called out, “Eh, he’s fine.”

Tony just laughed and walked away. An exasperated sigh made her slump onto his chest. He chuckled and leaned up to press a kiss on her hair. She raised her head. 

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you,” she said. His smirk just grew. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Captain Klutz.”

[hilarioushilarity]

(not) lost in translation pt. 2

{I am a lying liar who lies, 2-3 days my ass. You can read Part 1 here.}

The second time Alexei meets Kent Parson is at the All Star weekend that season.

When Mama and Papa had flown back to Russia, Alexei had rapidly realised that he was effectively a thousand miles away from everything he had ever known, and that:

1) Nobody around him spoke Russian; and 2) He couldn't speak English.

Alexei hates English. With a passion. He's not stupid enough to tell anyone this particular fact, but he thinks it every time he sits down for his English classes and wrestles with prepositions and adverbs, or heaven forbid, attempts to conjugate a verb. Every rule had a million exceptions, so what was even the point of the rule? English as a language was just unfair, he had decided, and he tells Mama this over the phone one month in.

She is sympathetic, in her typical Spartan manner. "You'll learn," she tells him. "Practise for at least three hours every day."

Alexei is appalled. "Mama, when am I meant to get three hours of practice each day?"

"There is always time."

He honestly doesn't know what else he expected. "Okay Mama," he says, and then turns the conversation to how stupidly big portion sizes were in America. Criticising the diets of North Americans was always guaranteed to catch her attention.

To his dismay, his father just laughs at him.

"Papa." Alexei may or may not be whining.

"Your Mama told you to just find time, didn't she," he says, when he's finally stopped cackling for long enough to take a breath.

Alexei hangs up on him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Papa says, when he calls back a minute later. The wheezing laughs have stopped, which is a relief.

"Okay," Alexei says warily.

"I mean it." His father is abruptly serious. "I'm sorry for laughing, you're in a tough situation right now. English is not an easy language to learn." They both know that his father never truly gained fluency in it - never had the chance to need it.

"It's really hard, Papa." He doesn't think he's just talking about English anymore.

"Things worth doing usually are, Alyosha," his father says gently.

Alexei chews his lip. "I don't know if I'm doing anything right."

"Are you playing good hockey?" Papa asks.

"Yes, Papa."

"You aren't bullying anyone on the ice?"

"No -"

"Working hard? Doing your English lessons? Going to all your practices on time, practising anything your coach says you need to work on?"

"Yes -"

"Then you are doing it right. And I am proud of you."

His father's voice is warm, and it curls around Alexei. He suddenly, desperately, wishes he could hug his father tightly. "Okay Papa."

"Now go and practice your English," Papa says, and Alexei does.

So hockey is the only thing he has besides torturous English lessons, and he devotes himself to it. He racks up goals and assists every game, plays a clean defensive game, and keeps his stats glowing. English smalltalk remains his nemesis but he's getting there, one pleasantry at a time. Before he knows it, he's being invited to the All Stars Weekend. He dithers over the invite for a few days, until the head of Capitals PR eventually corners him on his way out of the locker rooms.

"You should go," LaRue tells him. "It's good for building up your fanbase." He continues to go on at depth about social media presences and ticket sales. Alexei dutifully nods his way through the lecture, and ends up promising to go just to escape.

For some unknown sin in this life or a past one, he is roomed with a D-man from the Aeros who talks loudly and snores louder than a chainsaw. Alexei realises this on the first night when he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling as the red digits on the bedside clock tick over from 11 to 12, then 1. There's a snore once every three seconds, accompanied by whistling through some gap between teeth. Alexei kills half an hour searching up English sayings to describe snoring and deciding that his roommate "snores like a foghorn" before he finally gives up and rolls out of bed.

The hotel they've been put up in has an indoor gym and swimming pool. Alexei slings on a towel, sneaking out of the room before taking the lift down. On first glance, the gym is deserted, because any sane person is currently asleep. Alexei, running on no sleep, does not qualify.

Except, when he's halfway through his reps on the elliptical, a quiet voice behind him says: "Um. Hi, Alexei?"

Alexei turns around and comes face to face with Kent Parson.

What they are is nebulous at best. More than acquaintances - Kent Parson had talked to his Mama and Papa and his Mama had said Kent was a Very Nice Person. But less than friends, certainly. After the draft, Kent had gone west to the Aces and Alexei had gone east to the Capitals. He hasn't really kept track of Kent's career, but he would have to be under an actual rock to not know Kent is the only other rookie at the All Stars weekend and the NHL's current leading scorer.

"Hello," Alexei replies. There's a drop of sweat slowly rolling down his face and he's painfully aware that he probably stinks a little.  Meanwhile Kent Parson looks fresh as a daisy at one in the morning. The limits of his smalltalking abilities in English remain breathtakingly small despite the benefit of six months of English tutoring, so he kind of hopes Kent takes pity on his poor, sweaty form.

Kent does not. "It's been a while. Good to see you."

Goddamnit, they're smalltalking. "Good to see you, too."

Kent looks unbothered at the lack of scintillating conversation. He rolls onto the balls of his feet, fiddling with the strap of the duffel slung over his shoulder. "So uh. How's your mum?" he says, then immediately blanches. "Shit. I didn't mean - I just -"

"Good," Alexei says, mostly to put him out of his misery. "She good."

Kent looks earnest. "Oh, that's really good to hear." And then he seems to waver a bit.

"How is family?" Alexei says, when the silence stretches on. "They come visit after draft?"

"Ah yeah." Kent visibly brightens up. "They did! It was great, we had dinner and hung out a bit, and I gave my sister your mum's autograph - she's so cool by the way, but I bet you already knew that - I'd love to thank her again."

There are just - so many words. Alexei takes a few seconds to work through the sentence. "Glad to hear sister like. Maybe you see Mama again at game with Aces?"

"Definitely," Kent says, and Alexei's heard so many people say that over the past six months, but he thinks this time he could believe it. "So, uh. What's keeping you up?"

Only the loudest snorer on the entire American continent. "Roomie." Alexei searches for the words. "Snoring like foghorn."

Kent winces. "Jeez, I know what you mean. Did you try poking him to get him to roll over?"

"To scared to poke," Alexei admits. "Big guy."

"Who are you rooming with?"

"Winkler?"

"Fuck, yeah, he's a big dude. Better not poke him."

Alexei sighs. "Snore so loud - and whistle too. Like train." At Kent's blank look, he tries: "Choo choo?"

"Choo - oh god, you mean like a steam engine?"

Alexei pulls out his phone in answer. "How spell that? Steam engine?" He dutifully plugs in the letters Kent rattles off, and hits translate. "Oh. Yes. He steam engine."

"Heh," Kent says. "I double dog dare you to say that to him." He must catch the look of utter incomprehension on Alexei's face, because he quickly backtracks. "Not up with the slang yet? Sorry. I meant, you should tell him that."

"But why?" Alexei doesn't want to get punched.

"As a joke," Kent adds hastily. "It's funny, because we know it's stupid so we wouldn't do it."

English was just ridiculous. "Okay," Alexei tries. "Double dog dare you cycle on elliptical, see who faster."

"That's not..." Kent trails off. He smiles, then shakes his head. "That's not how it works. But we'll work on it," he assures Alexei, with a firm pat on his shoulder.

It's worlds away from the way the Caps' coach tends to roll his eyes heavenward when Alexei goes left when he should go right, or his English tutor, who is nice enough but is prone to banging her head against the table a little when Alexei fumbles the conjugation on a verb. "Not now," Alexei says. "Later?"

Kent checks his watch and he actually looks surprised, like the complete lack of other people didn't clue him in. "Wow, it's pretty late, isn't it?"

Unbelievable. "Why you up?"

"Got caught up practising."

Alexei sideeyes him. "Practising?"

Kent flushes a little. "Practising my stick handling. Shooting accuracy."

Alexei can't help but boggle at him. "You practising? At 1AM?"

"I couldn't sleep," Kent says, a little defensively.

"You crazy," Alexei decides, but there's a lot of fondness that must be apparent to even Kent, who looks less offended than he does a mildly grumpy, like the family cat when he accidentally stepped on her tail as a child. "But you wipe ice with everyone, so you champion crazy."

"Damn straight I'm the champion crazy," Kent says, planting his hands on his hips like a dork. "Yeah, laugh it up, I'll definitely be wiping the ice with you."

Alexei pretends to cower. "Okay, Kent Parson, I try best not cry on ice then."

"You will be bawling your eyes out," Kent says with promise, and then looks so affronted when Alexei just doubles over, breathless with laughter.

"I believe you," Alexei says to the ground, from where he's still bent over trying to catch his breath. "Cry many tears."

"You better," Kent says, but then he's laughing helplessly too, dropping his duffel. "Oh god, I really am champion crazy."

Alexei reaches over to pat him on the back. "Is okay, still like, even if Kent Parson practice hockey at one in morning."

"You don't think I'm too crazy?" Perhaps it's meant to be joking, but Alexei can't help but look up sharply.

"Never. You think Crosby best because he slack off?"

"I don't think he's ever stayed up until 1 because he was nervous about All Stars," Kent says, then bites his lip.

"You nervous?" Alexei asks. Kent hesitates. "Why you nervous?"

"I just - it's been a lot," Kent finally says. He's looking to the side, staring at the elliptical. Alexei waits, and Kent says in a rush: "I feel like I have to be the best, or - or else -"

"Not have to say what," Alexei says gently. "Not make you say."

Kent scowls. "It's stupid. Everyone's thinking it, they just don't say it. That I'm the second choice."

At the Draft, Alexei had known vaguely that Kent Parson and another boy called Jack Zimmermann had widely been slated to go first and second - in either order. It was true that every analyst had put the latter in first place, and that when Aces called Kent Parson's name there had been a slight pause in the audience's murmuring. Kent's smile had been strained as he left their table.

Alexei's stood across from Kent on the ice before. He's watched countless hours of tape of the Aces' play and by proxy, of Kent. Kent Parson on the ice is a force of nature, skating circles around defence and sinking pucks into the net as easy as breathing. And in his heart of hearts, he thinks the margin between first and second had been far smaller than most people thought.

But now, under the harsh gym lights that highlight the remaining softness of his jaw and the dark patches beneath his eyes, Alexei realises that Kent's still just a kid. Alexei's just a kid. They're both just teenagers. And there's very little of the player who had breezed past Alexei at the last Caps game with the Aces, or of the player who had mercilessly crushed their four game winning streak without batting an eye. Under the padding and past all the hype, Kent was far from the figure he cut on ice and as vulnerable as any other human.

"Even if people say second choice, what matter?" Alexei says. "You first. You here now. Play well. Maybe bit annoy on ice but not bully. And seem nice, polite to Mama. Thinking of sister even at draft. Get autograph for her. That matter. Not other people."

He hopes he hasn't overdone it - perhaps Kent wasn't looking for a heart-to-heart in the hotel gym at 1AM. But instead of taken aback Kent looks - a little watery.

"Why you cry?" Alexei is horrified.

"I'm not crying," Kent sniffs. "I'm not."

Alexei bites his tongue. "Uh okay." He politely looks away as Kent wipes his eyes.

"I'm not saying I can't cry," Kent begins, which Alexei takes as his cue that it's safe to look back at him. His eyes are just slightest bit red, and even that's only if you know what to look for.  “I just try not to cry in front of others.”

"Okay," Alexei says cautiously.

Kent takes a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Welcome," Alexei replies automatically, then says: "But. For what?"

Kent stares at him. "For - listening? For not being an asshole about the fact I'm still some nervy rookie?"

Christ. People thanked each other for things like that in America? "No need thank," Alexei says. Then, desperate to change the subject, he adds: "So we agree! No need for nervous! You real KVP."

"The what?"

"KVP." Alexei gestures. "I see on Twitter - they calling you 'the Real KVP'".

"That's not - " Kent splutters. "That's my name, Alexei."

Alexei tries not wince. "Oh. Oops, sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Kent brings out his phone, thumbing at something on the screen. He eventually holds out his phone, open to a websearch. "See? It's a joke on MVP. That's 'Most Valuable Player'."

"Oh," Alexei says again. "Make sense. Sometimes miss reference - thank you for explaining."

Kent stows away his phone, corners of his mouth twitching upwards again. "You've only been in the US for what, six months? Your English is great. If you put me in Russia I would probably just turn around and go back to the US."

"You miss good food then," Alexei tuts. "Russian food is best food."

"Hell no, I've seen what you guys count as soup. I'm not touching borscht with a ten-foot pole."

"Borscht is best soup!" Alexei tries to sound outraged.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that anything that pink should not be eaten."

Blasphemy. "You try pirozhki then? Small, baked -" He gropes around for the word, then gives up and calls up the translator app on his phone. "Dumpling."

"I've never had that," Kent says, but he at least looks intrigued. "What did you call it? Pay-roz-kay?"

His accent is actually appalling. "Pirozhki," Alexei corrects.

Kent frowns. "Poe-roz-ki?"

"Pirozhki"

"Poh-rosh-ki?"

Alexei nods in approval. "Good, sounds good."

"I like the sound of baked dumplings," Kent says. "Mm. Pirozkhi. I might go see if there's any places that do it in Vegas."

"Let me know if yes." Alexei nudges him. "I come try when Caps play Aces."

"You got it."

Alexei cuts off any further conversation with the embarrassingly loud yawn that escapes him then.

"Shit, it's like 1:30AM." Kent winces. "We have to get up at like 7 tomorrow - today? Holy crap we better go to sleep."

Alexei levers himself up, gathering his towel and bottle. "Hope not fall asleep on skates tomorrow."

"How about I check you if I see you dropping off," Kent suggests, then snickers at Alexei's raised eyebrow. "Bad idea?"

"Sure can check me?" Alexei makes a show of looking Kent up and down. He holds his index finger and thumb about ten centimetres apart. "So small."

"You asshole," Kent says, but he's laughing. "I'm not short, you're just a giant."

"If say so," Alexei shrugs. They start towards the elevator banks. "If help sleep at night."

"Fuck you, I sleep really well at night," Kent says petulantly. Alexei eyes the shadows beneath his eyes.

"I believe, I believe," he says instead with his best shit-eating grin. They get in the lift. "Okay, floor?"

Kent reaches over and pushes the button for 15. "You?"

"Twelve. Thank you." Kent nods, and they start moving up.

"So see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Yeah." Kent shoulders his duffel a little more firmly. "Be prepared to cry like a baby."

Alexei flaps his hands, just as the lift doors open on his floor. "Yeah, yeah, I cry so much."

The smile Kent gives him is small, but very real. "Good night Alexei."

"Good night," Alexei says, stepping out and turning to wave goodbye. The doors shut on Kent's smile, and Alexei stands there for a second, the airconditioning cool against his slightly sweaty neck.

"Hopefully not cry too much," he says to himself, before heading back to his room.

[causeimthesupernovaa]

The Actor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• Rowoon + Reader

• Genre: Fluff

• Words: 1.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning, Y/N."

You open your eyes slowly and see a smiley Kim Seokwoo standing in front of you. You can't help but smile back.

"Good morning, Seokwoo."

"Miss."

You look at the makeup artist who is applying blush in your face.

"Sorry. I promise I'll stay still," you turn around back to him. "We'd better talk later," you smile softly.

"Don't worry about it. It was my fault. I was the one who interrupted your makeup," he smiles sheepshly. "So... see you on set?"

The boy moves away and you come back to closing your eyes. You two were the protagonists on TvN's new drama and haven't know each other for long, but he was always the gentleman and a complete darling. That was good. Many actors who got famous quickly like him weren't that humble.

The makeup artist finishes her work and you check the script one last time. The first scene you were recording today was the one in which the female lead almost gets shot by Mr Kang's two henchmen, but is protected by Seokwoo's character. You had to show your fear without fail.

"Let's start, guys," the director calls.

You enter the gloomy alley set and the actors who played the henchmen follow you. Seokwoo just watches in the corner waiting for his turn. He was wearing an open black overcoat over a cream sweater. He really suited the protagonist's sofisticated clothes...

You look at the director.

"Ready."

"Right. 3, 2, 1... Action!"

"Leave me alone! Why are you following me?" you say angrily.

"You know why, Ms Min. You know too much and we can't just leave you hanging out there."

"Don't you see? I'm going to give the press all the evidence one way or another. You can't stop me!"

"Can't?," A half-hearted smile grows on the henchman's face, who takes his hands out of his pocket. A gun turns in his hand. "You sure, darling?"

Your legs go week, but you don't let yourself falter.

"You can't simply kill me. How are you going to hide the crime? My boss knows exactly what I'm investigating right now."

"Ms Min," the other man smiles. "If Mr Kang has gotten away with everything until now, why would one little more stain like your blood make any of a difference?"

You go one step back, your back touching the alley's brick wall. They get closer. You run with all your might, shots whizzing in the air beside you. But the alley was too long. There was no way you could make it.

Your teeth quiver and you stop, surrounded.

"See?" one of the men laughs and points his gun directly at you. You curl up against the wall terrified. "You don't have were to—"

A shadows flies over you and covers your figure with theirs. Seokwoo's body presses you lightly against the wall, leaving few space exposed. His cheek touches yours.

"Don't worry," he whispers. "We are going to make it out of this."

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Seokwoo turns his face to the henchmen.

"Hello."

"Kang Jinho?!" they exclaim with surprise.

"Exactly," he smiles. "Now get the hell out of here."

"We're not leaving until we have the girl dead. Your father's orders."

"Really?" Seokwoo replies calmly. "Great. Shoot."

Silence follows. The men try to find an angle to shoot, but Seokwoo's body wrapped way to well around yours.

They couldn't take the risk to hit him.

"Fine!" one grunts. "But don't you think it's over. You are going to pay for poking your nose into other people's business, Ms Min!"

And then they go away running.

"Cut!" the director yells. "Excellent, excellent! Let's do it one more time just in case, hu?

Seokwoo embaressedly unsticks his body from yours. His face is red as fire. He bows to you and returns to the corner of the set. You are a little short of breath while you observe him, his warmth lingering in your body.

"Y/N...? Y/N...? Y/N?!"

"Hum? Oh, yes, director! I'm sorry."

"Let's begin, ok?"

"O-Ok," you complied.

. . .

You let out a small sight. Since that day you just couldn't take Seokwoo out of your head. Even if it had all being staging, you... you just didn't know.

But once you felt his hug and his chest against your back, the wrapping of his breath on your neck... things were... different.

You've been acting for years and years and have paired up with lots of different actors as a couple, but none of them has ever affected you like he did that day. You must have gone crazy, right?

"Good morning, Y/N."

You jump a little bit and turn around. Speaking of the devil...

"Hi, Seokwoo," you smile a little embarassed.

"The filming finally ended, right?" he smiles. "I hope our drama becomes succesful."

"Oh, definitely!"

You pretend to be happy, but it was definitely the opposite of what you felt inside. You were devastated. After today, when would you be able to see him again? Hard to tell.

"Well" he offered his hand. "It was great working with you, sumbae."

You take his hand and squeeze it lightly. It was so weird to think about. With that same hand he had held your hand, hugged you tightly and held your face to kiss you. But fiction is fiction, right?

You force a smile and let go of his hand.

"You really have a talent for acting. It was great working with you too... Seokwoo."

A smile spreads along his full lips.

"Thank you, Y/N" he bows. "Goodbye."

The boy moves away, his backpack jumping after him. His soft hair and angel smile left with him, leaving you only with longing. He was precious, unique. Where, you wondered, would you find a soul as beautiful as his in this world?

Yes. You probably wouldn't.

"Seok... Seokwoo!" you yell impulsively.

He turns his body around and turn back his steps. He looks attentively at you.

"What's the matter, Y/N? Any problem?"

"Yes," you look into his eyes. "You."

"M-Me?" he asks confused.

"Yes, you. You... don't leave my head. I just can't get you out; and at this point... I-I don't even think I want to," you stop for a moment, biting your lips nervously. "It may seem precipitate, but... will you go out with me?"

Your cheeks are burning. You can't look him directly in the eyes.

The silence only makes things worse.

"Is this for real, sumbae?"

"Hum, yeah," you say, a graceless laugh escaping your mouth.

"This is no prank, is it?"

You look at him confused. Your face seemed to be corroding with anxiety.

"No, I'd never make this kind of pr—"

"Yes!"

"What?"

"Ah," Seokwoo touches the back of his neck and clears his throat. "Yes, I'll go out with you" he says more chill.

Your eyes grow and you smile embarassed, a warmth of delight spreading all through your body.

"You... where do you want to go?"

"It d-doesn't matter to me."

Your heart can't help but skip a beat. His shyness was adorable.

"What about we go get some dinner together tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good," he smiles, his hands nervously playing with his own fingers. "Actually, I'm quite surprised. I didn't know you had any insterest in me."

"Well, I too doubted I would be reciprocated. I acted by impulse, you know?" you smile.

"But I've always kind of had a crush on you," he says softly. "Even before knowing you, seeing you on TV and stuff..."

"O-Oh."

They remain in silence, both red as tomatoes, the two looking at each other from time to time, but soon looking away.

"Y/N! Seokwoo!"

Startled, you place your hand in your heart. Within that intimate moment you have completely forgotten you were on set — or even around other people, for a matter of fact.

You lift your head.

"Y-Yes, director?"

"There was a problem with the video of the last kiss scene. Would you mind if we rerecorded it right now?"

You and Seokwoo remain quiet for a little too long. You look constrained at each other and mutter an answer to the director, splitting each to your dressing room to get ready.

The staff gives you a yellow spring dress and apply your character's basic makeup, all this time you being a nervous wreck about the scene waiting for you. You had kissed Seokwoo before for three scenes, but this one... this one was going to be different.

It may not be acting.

"Are you ready, Y/N?" the director knocks on your dressing room's door. "Seokwoo is waiting for you."

You try not to freak out. That sounded like it had another meaning, though the director was clueless.

Ready? You were definetely not, not ready.

But you put a smile on your face and go to the kitchen set.

You take a quick look at Seokwoo. His rosy lips seemed to shine, warm and inviting.

You swallow hard.

Right, you had to do it. You were a professional. A professional.

"Action!"

"I feel sorry for everything. I'm not lying," you say crestfallen. "If you don't want to ever see me again... I'll understand."

"No."

You frown.

"No?"

"Yes," Seokwoo takes one step towards you and holds your arms. A secret shiver runs through your spine. "Don't say that, don't say none of that to me. If you denounced them, I don't care. I know how monstruous my family can be when they please. You did what you had to as a news reporter."

You hold your breath.

"You don't... resent me?"

He smiles softly.

"Sometimes what is right may hurt, but it doesn't stop it from being right," he pauses. "So please don't go to America. Stay."

"I—" the sentence dies in your mouth. Your character didn't know what to say.

"Stay here. Here with me."

You look suprised into his eyes.

"I... I don't know if I should. I don't want to hurt you more than I already did."

His arms slide down your back in a gentle caress.

"But what hurts me even more," his fingers run through your hair and his eyes lock on yours. "Is not having you beside me."

Everything is so fast. The next second you are in his arms, his breath touching yours.

"M-Mr Kang..."

He smiles.

"Do you want it?"

"I—"

"Do you want to be by my side?" you don't answer. "Hum?"

You stay a few seconds in quietness.

"Yes," you whisper, and he smiles a heart melting smile.

This was the cue.

You look at the dephts of Seokwoo's eyes and don't feel like Ms Min; you feel like Y/N, just Y/N. And the man you were going to kiss was the sweet Kim Seokwoo, not the protagonist Kang Jinho.

You were you two, just you two.

Your mouths colide and embrace one another in a slow kiss. You hold tight into his shoulders while you give yourselves away to each other. His mouth was warm against yours.

"Cut!"

He hugs your waist and brings you closer. It was good, very good.

"Cut!" a distant voice calls your attention, and you remember were you were. You immediately part from Seokwoo. "Didn't you hear me speaking?" the director giggles. "It's alright. The kiss turned out long, but I liked it. It even felt real. Well, let's get going! Good work, guys! We've all made a great drama!"

You look at Seokwoo and he looks back at you. You two blush and smile accomplices, your secret hanging in the air.

[im-hqlover]

The red X

A/N - I finished! Just an idea I had about entering the world of Don't Starve, so I hope you like it. 

Warning: Some sad/anxious thoughts, english errors? 

Pairing: Not yet, but if I continue with this in the future, it will be Wilson x reader.

Y/n = Your name 

m/d/n = Male dog name

f/d/n = Female dog name

Word count:  2063

Y/N's INFO:

Gender: Cis-Female

Sexuality: Straight

Height: Short

Weight: Not Defined

Skin Color: Not Defined

Hair Color: Not Defined

Eyes Color: Not Defined

Other details? No

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Today was another normal day in my life, just another day at work, leaving home to breathe, taking a stroll through the small town I lived in. It had been about a year since I moved here in New England, right after I finished college, I knew it would be crazy to move to a new country again, but I had already been to the United States a few times, and I have to say that there in New England was incredible, and I knew that was where I wanted to live. 

The city I was currently living in was not very big, but it was comfortable, and even though I was far from the mess of big cities where I practically always lived, I thought it would be a perfect and peaceful place to calm down. I must say that the city was as if it had stopped in the last century, everything was so old, almost like in the movies, but I'm not complaining, I kind of always wanted it.

As almost every day I passed by the antiques store, and today I decided to take a look inside the store, just to see the old things there. 

-y/n! How nice to see you here! - As soon as I entered, Mr. Washington came to welcome me, he was a nice gentleman, he was like a grandfather to me, always telling me stories about his life or his merchandise, and I loved that. 

- Hi Tom! How are you?

- Better now - He smiled and motioned for me to go to the back of the store. - Something new arrived this weekend, I'm sure you'll love it.

- What is? - I follow him and he takes me to a box which he opens, and inside there was a type of radio. - A radio?

- Yes! But it is not just any radio, it is a Voxola PR-76 Radio, very few of this model were produced, this is a rarity!

- I can get it? - I say making gestures with my hands to pick up the radio so I can analyze it.

- Of course! Just be careful.

- Yes, I will. - Washington was right, it wasn't just any radio, but not because it was rare, but I had a strange feeling holding it, not a bad feeling, it was something... good. - Can I buy? 

- I knew you were going to be interested! Of course you can! And since I know you, I will give you a special discount.

- You don't have to do that Tom, seriously!

- y / n, I know that with the price that this radio is worth, you would not be able to buy it, and even more, no one here in this city will be interested in that. You are practically my only source of income!

- Well, and that's exactly why you shouldn't give me a discount, you're going to lose a lot of money like that!

We discussed the amount to be paid, until we reached an agreement where I would pay little by little, until I paid the amount the radio was worth. When I finished making the purchase, I talked a little more with him and then I went home, when I arrived at my simple, but comfortable home, I put the radio on the living room shelf. I think if someone who didn't know that I'm the one who lives here would think that this house belongs to an 80-year-old, but in fact, it's the home of a 24-year-old woman only.

I sigh and look around my house, everything was silent, just with the sound of some birds, being alone has always been one of my biggest fears, and even if I had people to talk to, there I was, alone. I look at the wooden box, with the photo of my dog, m / d / n, where his ashes were inside, he was for me one of the only things that made my day, which made me not feel so alone, but unfortunately he ended up dying from an accident. 

- I really miss you m / d / n. - I put my hand on the box and allow some small tears to fall, and then I look at my left wrist, where there was a tattoo with the name f / d / n, my first dog, where I grew up with her, and of course the inevitable would happen someday. - You are also sorely missed.

I try to ward off tears and sadness by putting some happy songs on my phone, and I soon thought it would be a good idea to tidy up the house, since it had been a while since I cleaned it up decently.

I spent several hours cleaning the whole house, but even so I couldn't finish everything, as I was very tired, I decided to lie on the couch for a while, until my belly started to snore and I went to the kitchen to get something to eat and then go back to the couch.

Again everything was silent, with only the occasional sound of crickets and frogs, as much as I liked the silence, I knew it was a trap, and of course he would soon appear, that damn voice that whispered things in my head like: 

"Hey, remember that time you were embarrassed?"

"Hey, do you remember your wonderful boyfriend who cheated on you?"

"Do you remember those happy moments with m / d / n and f / d / n that will never come back?"

"You will never be enough"

"everything is your fault"

"nobody wants someone like you around"

And several other things, which he knew would make me anxious. I couldn't help screaming in anger for that voice to disappear, I couldn't help tears of frustration falling. I fell on my knees on the floor and curled up right there.

The good thing about living alone is that no one would hear me crying or screaming.

I joined forces and got up from the floor, and then I went to my medicine box, I know I should have stopped taking that, and I had already tried, I was succeeding, but I couldn't stand it, I didn't want that damn voice anymore, I know I should face it, but… it was too late, it couldn't be destroyed, so the only thing I could do was to avoid it.

It took a few minutes for the medicine to take effect, and I was calm again. I lay down on the couch again, my eyes were heavy, and when I was almost asleep, I heard a voice, but this time I was sure it was not just in my mind, when I look around, I realize that sinister voice came from the Voxola radio.

- It seems that you are going through problems my friend.

This couldn't be real, how the hell could this be happening? This was supposed to be a dream, sure it was, but when I bit my finger and felt pain and saw it bleed, I was sure it was real.

- Y-you, are ... are.

- Talking to you of course!

- This is impossible. - Maybe it was the medicine's effect? But there was no way, this medicine would never do that. What if it was that stage where I am awake and dreaming at the same time? I think that was the only valid option.

- I know a way to solve your problems.

- A psychologist. - I say to myself before that radio voice answered.

- No, it's much better. Just follow this map and you will have the solution to all your problems.

- Map? - The radio didn't answer me, now I don't know if that was real, if it was some kind of daydream, or if I was going crazy. I think I better sleep, staying awake for sure is not good for me. I take a shower and then go to my bed and luckily I fall asleep quickly. 

When I wake up I do my morning routine, I go to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, I make coffee, I wait to be ready and then I take it and I also take the same medicine from yesterday, a little hesitantly, but I knew it would be better this way, and I decide to take it.

I walk by the living room when I look at the radio and remember last night, I look at my finger and see that it is hurt, I should be hallucinating, but I realize that there was something on top of the radio, and that I had sure it wasn't there before, when I get closer I realize that it was a paper, but not an normal paper, it was a map! Soon I remember the voice of the radio yesterday that spoke about a map, was that it?

When I look more closely, I realize that it is the map of the city and the forest that surrounded it, and in a place far away in the forest there was an x ​​marked in red.

Is this real? Could that end that voice? No, I was sure that no, easy things like that are never good signs, and they are never what they seem…. but what was there in the forest?

And that was what led me to be there, at that moment in the middle of a forest, not to end my problems, but to find out what the hell was there in that red x.

I had thought before that it could go bad, but my curiosity was not quiet, I wanted to, I needed to know what was there.

The forest was dense, there was no way for me to go by car, and there was no trail that I could use to walk, I had to walk in luck and wait until I got to the right place. Of course, I was using my cell phone to locate myself, but I wasn't sure if my coordinates were compatible with those on the map.

Until at one point I arrive in a clearing, where there was a very old house falling apart due to the time it dominated there, I look at my cell phone, and theoretically that was where the x marked.

- Great, I walked for two hours here to find a house falling apart in the middle of nowhere! - I kick a stone that rolls away. I look at the house, what was I really hoping to find? Maybe there was something inside the house? What if there was someone?

I see a sign on the fence of the house, the writing was very worn and I just couldn't understand what was once written there.

- HEY! Is anyone there ?! - I scream for another human being, but I got no answer, I approach the door of the house, and with my foot I push the door, which simply falls, and a lot of dust comes towards me, causing an attack of cough at me.

I enter the house, which inside there were several things that seemed to be very old, besides several cobwebs, plants and a lot of dust. I analyzed the house, and there was not much, I looked at the stairs, it was dangerous to climb that, and I was sure that any misstep I could fall, break, and stay there, because there was no way anyone could save me.

But I decided to take a chance, and climb those stairs, and when I got to the second floor I realized that there was some kind of machine, and when I approached I realized that it probably wouldn't be working, because it should have been there for many years and the weather had degraded.

I ventured into the place, looking for clues that could tell me something, but the only thing I found was some papers with notes and projects, but I didn't understand what that meant.

While walking around the place I tripped over a wood and ended up touching the lever of the machine, who knows how, it started to work and out of nowhere a black shadow appears in the place and a smiling face appears in front of me and then I feel something grabbing my feet, I try to break free, but it was useless. 

- Leave me! - Of course it didn't work, and that was the last thing I remember, after that, it was just darkness and a laugh.

=-=-=-=-=

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