#(it’s a kid hearing what he’s always Known being said OUT LOUD for the first time)

[gumy-shark]

kageyama parents they could never make me hate you

[alavestineneas]

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 

-

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

-

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 

-

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge���she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

-

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

-

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 

-

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

[m0nnypie]

DATING DEKU (BUT BEING KATSUKI'S SISTER)

Warnings: just Deku being fool for reader, 'n Katsuki being a jealous brother.

synopsis: You're dating this cute green-haired boy, but you're related to that stressed-out blonde bitch 💔

- Well, it's obvious that you've known each other since you were kids. And according to both parents, you've shown that you liked each other since you were young (Katsuki says that's stupid)

- Because you were a year younger, you didn't go to U.A. with them. But that doesn't mean you didn't spend time with Deku.

- To be honest, Katsuki did everything he could to keep you away from Deku. Saying things like "he's a loser, and we're amazing" and "you're my sister, you shouldn't hang out with a nerd like him". But it's not like you listened to the blonde. Since you didn't want the blonde bothering you, you continued hanging out with him, even in public.

- But that stopped after Katsuki simply called his friends to beat up the green-haired one. You literally stopped talking to the blonde for a whole month, and that worried your parents, because besides affecting Katsuki, they could hear you crying every night, saying how stupid Katsuki was. In the end, you guys resolved it after he promised he wouldn't bother Deku anymore. Not that he kept his promise.

- After what happened, you started sneaking out with Deku. Whether it was going to his house, or going to play somewhere, when you knew Katsuki was going to train. And it's obvious that he never told you about Katsuki. That's why, the day he arrived all hurt, you almost had a fit.

"WHO HURT YOU?"

Sometimes he forgot that you were capable of screaming as loud as Katsuki.

"I-it was nothing!"

"NOTHING? DEKU YOU'RE ALL HURT!!"

He simply held your hand and smiled.

"It's okay! No need to worry! I already told you."

The simple contact made you blush. It was funny how children dealt with affection.

- Over time, you started to drift away. It wasn't that you hated him, but most of your time was spent training with Katsuki. So in the last year, before the two of them went to U.A, you barely saw Deku.

- You were on good terms with Katsuki. That is, until you found out that he never really left Deku alone. The moment you walked into the classroom in a rage, he thought it was strange. But as soon as the blonde felt you attack him with all your force, he was in shock.

"DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR HIM AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOU SHIT?! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MY BROTHER"

you pulled Deku with you, leaving behind an extremely angry blond, yelling that he didn't care about you.

That afternoon, Deku comforted you while telling you that everything was going to be okay. But you didn't believe it.

- Obviously things got weird between Katsuki and you. Especially because you would stay in the same house for months before he went to U.A. And even though your parents tried everything to make things work out for you, nothing worked. He was too proud to do anything, and you had too much anger built up to be on good terms with him.

- You continued to be close to Deku. Staying with him all day now, and threatening anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way. And even if he said he didn't need all that, you just told him to shut up. You two became really close after that.

- At the time, when he would just disappear sometimes, you were really worried. Even though you didn't have much time, as you were busy with your own training.

- Of course, when you found out he got into U.A. you wanted to celebrate. When you brought up the subject of the quirk, he got all weird, so you let it go.

- At the same time, you and Katsuki still haven't made up. Neither of you wanted to apologize, you were too proud for that. And now, it would be even harder with him at U.A.

- At first it was really strange, when you didn't see Deku as often anymore. Even though he always called you every night, and sent you messages all day long.

- He was saying how wonderful U.A was. That he had met All Might (he said he told about you tô him, and you almost had a heart attack). You were so excited for him! (and for Katsuki even though you wouldn't admit it). But of course things changed when he was kidnapped.

- As soon as you found out about the kidnapping, your first instinct was to call Deku. You were desperate, and he tried to calm you down by saying he would fix everything. That's when you had your first fight.

"IT'S NOT GOING TO BE OKAY, DEKU! HE'S BEEN KIDNAPPED!"

"You need to calm down... I told you! I'll find a way! You need to trust me!"

"A WAY, DEKU?! MY BROTHER WAS KIDNAPPED BY THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS! IT'S NOT SIMPLE!!! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? HUM? UNTIL A MONTH AGO YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK"

the silence that fell was deafening.

"I'm going to hang up."

"(Name) Wait-"

You hung up on him, you knew what you said to him was wrong. But your concern for your brother's life was greater than any guilt. You ignored all his other calls for the rest of the day.

- As soon as Katsuki came back. You punched him in the face. Well, brotherly love, right? But you didn't let go of him for a whole week.

As soon as you met the blond again, with the weight of your fight and the worry you felt, all you could do was punch him.

Everyone was shocked, your parents, All Might who you didn't even realize was there. Even Deku wasn't expecting it. Of course, Katsuki didn't take it personally, certainly not. But before he could yell something stupid, he felt you hug him.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

He simply gave you an ironic laugh and hugged you back. He didn't like hugs, but he knew he couldn't deny you that.

Well, now everyone was really in shock.

- Well, they gave you a week to stay with Katsuki (With All Might asking for it, it became easier for it to happen). No one had ever seen this hot-headed blonde treat someone well, so when they saw how he treated you (despite still having the insults), everyone wanted to meet the grumpy blonde's dear sister. And he hated the idea, although he wasn't the only one. A certain green-haired boy, perhaps, was quite sullen.

- Of course when you saw Deku, the first thing you did was apologize. It was funny that even though you were as proud as your brother, when it came to Deku, things were simpler and easier. He obviously accepted your apology, you spent an entire day together, with Katsuki obviously hating every second of it.

- Well, the rest of the year was tense too. With all the fights and stuff. The only times Deku could relax were when he was with you.

- It didn't take long for him to realize that he was in love with you. Because of course, with his friends making jokes about it, it was hard to hide it. He had no intention of confessing, he didn't want to ruin his friendship with you. But of course Uraraka, Mina and Denki thought otherwise.

- After coming up with a plan to make you two finally confess, everything went wrong. Katsuki was suspicious, so he simply wouldn't let go of you the whole time. Until, of course, the guys decided to bring All Might into the plan (bros are determined). Somehow, they convinced All Might to distract Katsuki. So when you were finally alone, he got nervous, not knowing what to do. And before everyone could intervene to help him, they saw you kissing Deku.

- Obviously you started dating. Everyone was happy for you, your parents thought Deku was adorable. But of course one person didn't like it. A certain blond guy was totally against your relationship. But not that he would do anything other than threaten Deku, saying that if he touched a single hair on your head, he would end up underground (he takes threats seriously). Anyway, he would always be in the corner complaining, not that you care.

- The best thing that could have happened was when you started at U.A. Many nights, he would sneak into your dorm. You would have lunch together, walk hand in hand through the hallways. He would train with you (you loved it when training turned into a kissing session, which embarrassed him). Anyone who looked at Deku would realize how much he loved you, even Katsuki knew that.

- Most of the make-out sessions were initiated by you. Sometimes in the bedroom, during training, or during breaks. One time, you almost got caught. He almost died because he thought he would get caught, while you could only laugh.

- Every time you went home, you always took Deku with you. Katsuki hated that. You also went to his house a lot, his mother adores you! She loves showing you pictures of him, which makes him embarrassed.

- You two love to sleep cuddling. One time you were cuddling on the couch kissing, and Katsuki decided to get between you. You were sulking, and Deku didn't know where to hide his face. Poor Deku if Katsuki knew more.

- Even if Katsuki doesn't admit it, he trusts Deku. And he'd much rather you date the green-haired boy than any other guy.

SERIOUSLY I'M SO OBSESSED WITH THESE TWO!! I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT!!!

'N SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH!!!

[moremaybank]

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

[shijjii]

You spark brighter than fireworks | Togame Jo

Pairing: Togame Jo/Reader Genre/Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Confession, Jealousy, Oblivious reader Word count: 2249w Reader appearance/notes: uses -chan, mentions that they are small (hands)

For some reason, this year’s Summer Festival is far more crowded than the past years. The glow of the yellow lanterns that hung across the path allowed the people to see where they’re walking and not to step on other people’s feet. You couldn’t catch a moment’s rest as more people crowd your booth, buying the food that your family sells every Festival. 

Your eyes quickly sift through the crowd in front of you and observe them.

Bofurin students hanging out with Shishitoren members, a perplexed look on your face is left as you see them jovially joking around. 

You’ve always known the two groups are archenemies, so to see this scene right in front of you… Am I in heaven? you thought to yourself. 

After taking in the confusion and moving past it to take care of customers, your mind wanders to the rumors you heard going around town.

They said Bofurin defeated Shishitoren in their own turf, and instead of Bofurin’s leader taking in the members of the defeated gang, he instead announces for the two groups to be friends. 

You didn’t believe it, it was a wild child’s fantasy, or so you said to yourself. “You doing alright there, ⬜️-chan?” A voice calls out your name, looking to the other stall, you see the Second-in-Command of Shishitoren.

You’ve known him ever since you were kids, with him being part of the Festival Committee at such a young age and you helping out with your family’s booth, you both were bound to talk to each other. What you didn’t expect was to find out how sweet he is, caring, kind. You know him to be lax, an individual who likes to take his time but that only made him even more endearing, especially when he talks to children who have trouble speaking just yet. It surprised you when you heard how he is when it comes to the streets, a complete contrast to the Togame you’ve grown to like.

The Second-in-Command who ruled with an iron fist it’s impossible not to hear those words, and you believed them. You’ve seen it after all. How Togame beat up his own member after they tried to harass you and your friend.

Realizing that he’s been waiting for your reply, you curtly nod at him, mind slightly racing due to panic with how many customers have been asking for their orders despite only arriving. 

He clears his throat before eyeing the wave of customers in front of both their booths. His emerald eyes widened in surprise before it glinted behind the round orange tinted glasses as he spotted a familiar mop of white hair. A sharp and loud whistle slices through the air, capturing the Bofurin leader’s attention. 

“Togame-san!!” He gleams and pushes his way through the crowd, an entourage of first years behind him. “Umemiya-san” his deep voice calls out nonchalantly but an evident smile plastered on his face. 

“S’it okay if you and your little….” Togame’s eyes lands on the others “bodyguards help me and ⬜️-chan man the booths? We kind of have our hands tied here…” Sakura bursts out at the word bodyguard and challenges the vice commander for a fist fight which just elicits a deep laugh from him.

You on the other hand have not been paying attention to what was happening in the other booth, rushing some orders. Hands skillfully flipping the crepes, chest heaving heavily. You were sort of reaching your point and you knew that you needed to sit down for at least a minute. Everything has been overwhelming and the night has just begun. 

You almost flipped the crepe sheet to someone’s face when a hand lands on your shoulder “⬜️-san! You look pale, go sit down go sit down!!” Umemiya tells you off, you give him a baffled expression but couldn’t really fight the man off as he firmly pushes you to the nearest chair. 

That was the time you were able to breathe and take in the chill of the night. Eyes landing on Togame who is also now sitting down for a bit, hand scratching the back of his neck. This revelation made you realize that Shishitoren did indeed lose to Bofurin since they’re acting like friends now. You can’t help but smile a bit at that. 

Togame cut his hair after the fight and you thought that maybe he just got bored with his mullet, or got too hot around the neck but you can guess now that him cutting his hair had some correlation with him losing his fight with Bofurin. Your eyes scan his back, finally having the time to admire him and his new haircut.

It seemed as if he had eyes behind his head since he looked behind him and in your direction. Giving you a lopsided smile “taking a rest as well?” He calls out.

Even though your booths are side by side, it’s kind of hard to hear each other due to the amount of people talking, which deeply annoys you. You wanted nothing more but to just properly hear him but the universe seemed to be so against you tonight.

“Yeah. Thank you, Togame-san” you bow your head at him, wiping the sweat from your brow. Blood rushing to your cheeks, hand coming up to your own neck to scratch the back of it, hoping that he doesn’t notice you blushing. He just gives you a closed eye smile before both of you stand up in sync to help man the booth. 

As the night went on, the crowd from your booth never thinned out at least once. It actually felt like it was getting more crowded. Eyes landing on Umemiya’s smiling face before charmingly tells an old lady “Thank you for buying from us! See you again!” 

A deep sigh escapes you. Umemiya is the reason why the crowd hasn’t thinned out yet but lucky for you, your supplies are running out.

Tapping his shoulder, you whisper in his ear “Umemiya-san, we’re running out of supplies. We need to close the booth soon” he pouts a little, the wooden stick for spreading the crepe batter in one hand drooping ever so slightly.

“You can help tomorrow if you want” you mumble, rolling your eyes at him. That’s when he perks right back up, nodding at you with much vigor. “I’d be very happy to help, ⬜️-chan!” 

Continuing to converse and call out the orders, you never noticed the emerald eyes that glared at Umemiya. (He, however, did, and shivered involuntarily) 

With the night ending and everyone heading to the riverbanks, both of you finally got the chance to clean up properly.

“Is it always this busy here?” He asks you, throwing boxes into the trash bag you’re holding while your other hand wipes the surface area that you worked on. “No, just this year.” Finally giving him your full attention after finishing everything you needed to do.

“I wonder why…” you hear him mumble. Due to frustration and exhaustion, you throw the little wooden piece for spreading the crepe batter at him, hitting him smack dab in the middle of his forehead.

“It’s because of you, idiot!”

“What! What did I do?!”

“You-” Cutting yourself off before another groan escapes your lips, louder this time, grabbing the attention of the people from the other booth. A low laugh rumbles from right behind you, turning your body to the side to see Togame Jo towering over you. Eyes hiding something behind them as he stares at you with a small smile before finally looking at the leader of Bofurin. 

“Umemiya-san, thank you so much for the help” he says with a light tone, but Umemiya flinches a bit and gives a thumbs up “Mm! No problem! Always happy to help out!” Tilting your head to the side as you hear his nervous pitch. You wondered what he could be nervous about, a warm and big hand landing on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts. You crane your neck up to see Togame smiling down at you. You gulped thickly, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as you clench and unclench your hands on your sides.

“Let’s head to the riverbanks as well, we can still catch the fireworks” You nod at him, looking at Umemiya who was looking to the side and trying to look busy. You raised an eyebrow at him before asking “you coming, Umemiya?” His icy blue eyes snapping at both you and Togame. His sight then lands on his friends who were behind Togame. 

“No, thank you! Pretty sure Kotoha-chan and the others are looking for us by now” He grins before swiftly grabbing all of Bofurin, leaving you and Togame alone. Wind blowing through both of your figures. 

“What the hell…” You whisper to yourself, earning a chuckle from Togame. “Don’t mind him, I’m sure they’re fine.” He holds out his hand to you. You put a clenched fist on your chest before thumping it hard, surprising Togame.

“⬜️-chan! Are you okay??” You hear him worriedly ask. Be still, heart You internally tell yourself before grabbing his hand in yours “let’s go before we lose a spot at the riverbank” You grumble and look forward. Avoiding eye contact with the man, what you didn’t see is how red he is with just the fact that you’re holding his hand, lips slightly agape as you pull him towards the river.

Arriving at the river, both of you opted to just stand, seeing as there were a lot of people sitting by the banks, waiting for the fireworks show that was about to happen. He hears you sigh to yourself, hand loosening the grip on his hands. Togame decided that he couldn’t handle feeling disappointed, not tonight. So he laces your fingers together and looks up to the sky. Pretending to wait for the fireworks, thanking how dark it is tonight or else you would see how red his face is. 

The vice commander imagined that it was awkward for you that you both are just standing there in silence, hands intertwined together. Clearing his throat, he gives you a glance before calling your name out. 

You didn’t hear it the first time, nor the second time. You were too focused feeling his big calloused hands enclosing yours, heart almost beating out of your ears. Taking you out of your thoughts for the nth time tonight, he gently squeezes your hand to get your attention making you look at him. 

“Are you okay?” Gentle low voice laced with concern, you couldn’t help but look up to him. A small blush spreads on your cheeks. “I’m okay” Your voice comes out shaky, breathless, the way Togame looked at you got you awe-struck. His hand gently but firmly holding yours, eyes scanning your face. 

You opened your mouth to say something but the fireworks started, he looked up at the sky to admire it, face painted with the colors of the fireworks as a wide smile slowly made its way to his lips. His free hand slowly takes the glasses off of his face and rests it on his head, and you think to yourself he’s so pretty because he is. The way his eyes observed every firework, adoring every color, sparks adorning the sky. “I like how the fireworks spark up the dark evening night” He whispers, not really expecting you to hear it, but you did.

You hear another one go off when words start to spill out of your lips before you can even stop and think about what you were about to say. “You spark brighter than any firework”

He slowly turns to you, his hand squeezing tighter than it already was. Feeling like he needed to ground himself or else he’ll think that this is a dream. “W-what was that?” He internally cusses at the fact he manages to stutter despite him trying to be nonchalant. 

“I-” You snap your head to the side, covering your mouth “It was nothing, Togame-” A hand makes its way to your jaw, turning you to look at him, eyes staring directly into yours. “You spark brighter than any firework, ⬜️.” it felt like all of the wind in your lungs was taken away. 

“Prettier than any firework, brighter, more vibrant than any I’ve seen in my entire life.” cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer to him, your lips thinning into a line as you grow redder “I don’t-” you heave a deep sigh, trying to even out your breathing. “I think you’re lying, there are millions of fireworks out there that are prettier than I am.” your voice coming out unsteady, it felt like Togame was taking away all of your air with how close he is to you. A deep chuckle emits from him, noses touching and lips almost brushing against each other. 

“You’re the prettiest firework for me.” He closes the gap between both of you, and suddenly you feel like putty in his hands. Melting away with how he tenderly kissed you. How gently he cupped your cheek as his hand let go of your hand and snakes it around your waist. 

The last firework finished and so was the kiss. Both of you were silent for a minute, thinking through what just happened, you knew that you needed to talk to him about it, about both of your feelings but for now, you both enjoyed the silence after the fireworks.

[whore-4-drewstarkey]

Lips of An Angel- Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

summary: based on the song Lips Of An Angel by Hinder. (take a listen! i recommend it!!) Y/N drunkenly calls up her ex boyfriend drew, to confess her love she still has for him and all her regrets from their past relationship.

warnings: odessa…., alcohol consumption, emotional cheating (if you even call it that), angst, a tad of fluff if you squint, slight mentions of physical/mental/emotional abuse (not from drew), lmk if i forgot anything bc i’m sure i did lol.

a/n: for starters…. i’ve been waiting to write this one and i was gonna do it for rafe first but it just felt more right to do drew lol. also please don’t come at me for the way i put odessa in this. (personal opinion: i don’t think they’re really a thing irl but whatever). for the sake of this fic i had to put her in it to work as she’s the only prominent female in his life besides his sisters so bare with me please. (personally not a fan of her for my own reasons and things i’ve read) hope you all enjoy this one!

revised and edited by the one and only @slut4drudy ilyyyyy

as drew had just put the last of the champagne glasses into the sink from his and odessa’s small get together with friends, he could hear his phone ringing that all too familiar ringtone… the ringtone he had set for only her. he thought to himself… how strange it’d be for her to call him at such an absurd hour after not talking to one another in two years.

him and Y/N had began to date their senior year of college at western carolina university, and just like every college couple, they eventually broke it off a few years later. it had been a mutual agreement when he got cast on netflix’s show, outer banks, as she didn’t want to hold him back any longer from achieving all the goals she knew he would. the two however kept in contact regularly until none at all just two years ago when she’d started dating her now boyfriend maverick. and from what Y/N seen drew had also moved on… to his costar odessa.

“hey, uh drew your phone is ringing. do you want me to get it?” odessa asked drew as he finished washing the champagne flutes, drying his hands hurriedly with the towel next to the sink.

“uh, nah, um i’ll go answer it. it might be my mom. you know her and not being able to sleep and missing her kids. i’m just gonna go in the reading room and take the call. i’ll be back out in twenty. sound good?” he asked warily.

“yeah yeah take your time. tell her i said hi for me” she smiled as his towering figure walked past her frame and into the living room, picking his phone up. his large thumb moved nimbly against his phones screen to answer the call from Y/N as he entered the reading room, plopping on the couch.

“h-honey, why you callin me so late? it’s kinda hard to talk right now” he stuttered out her pet name he hadn’t called her in years. all he received in return were her soft sobs from the other line. those little soft sobs shattered his heart. the last time he’d heard them was because of him. because he had spoke the idea of maybe they should break up. because he didn’t know if he could do the long distance relationship, and Y/N had just agreed. no hesitation because she wanted whatever would make him happy. and if that meant breaking up with her and breaking her heart, then so be it. she wanted what was best for him because she loved him.

“honey, why are you crying? is everything okay?” drew whispered out through the phone to his broken ex in an uneasy tone, as his jaw clenched. he hated the idea of her being sad. he always had.

“w-why are you whispering?” she sighed as more tears streamed down her face.

drew bit his lip, exhaling a huff of hot air he hadn’t known he was holding before speaking, “i gotta whisper because i can’t be too loud.”

“why? i-im sorry. i shouldn’t have called. this was so fucking stupid” Y/N slurred out into her end of the phone, catching drew’s attention.

“oh, well, my girls in the next room” he spoke as he paused to let her speak.

“like i-i said… this was st-stupid of me” she slurred out again before continuing, “you’re moved on. i get it”

“honey, Y/N, it’s not like that. i swear. s-shes not even my girlfriend” he tried to elaborate before she cut him off.

“then why’d you call her your girl?”she challenged.

“baby, you’re drunk. i can tell by the way you’re slurring your words. what’s wrong? why’d you call?” drew tried to deflect the question and ask the more important questions; why she’d called and why she’d been crying.

“answer my questions first please” she hiccuped through her phone and into his ear.

“we haven’t put a label on it. in all seriousness i don’t even know what i want. i don’t even think she knows what she wants. it’s more of a friends with benefits kind of deal” he sighed out as his left index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed once more, contemplating to speak what he’d been thinking for awhile now. “but honey, if i’m being serious, sometimes i wish she was you”

“i wish i was her too” Y/N whimpered out as she took a gulp of the vodka from the bottle she’d been coddling in her arms, sitting on the bathroom floor, hiding from maverick.

“i guess we never really moved on… did we?” he chuckled out, causing Y/N to smile at the sweet sound of his chuckle. it was bliss to her ears. she’d missed that sound so much in the last two years.

“now answer my question honey, what’s wrong? why’re you calling so later? isn’t it like after 1am there back home in charlotte. right?” he asked Y/N in a concerned tone, face scrunching up in worry as well, though she couldn’t see it.

“u-um. drew it doesn’t matter. forget i called you. okay?” Y/N tried to deflect his concerning questions he’d been shooting her way since the call had started.

“Y/N, honey. i’m not hanging up until you tell me what’s got you so bent out of shape that you’re drunk off your ass, drunk calling me at 1 am your time all while sobbing. i just won’t” he huffed out, losing his patience in the girl on the other line.

“joseph” she began to slur, sternly, “i said it doesn’t matter. go back to your girl or whatever the fuck she is to you” she hiccuped yet again.

“fuck, i cant believe i’m about to say this right now, but it’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name. it sounds so sweet” drew smiled to himself as he softly giggled. maybe it was from the champagne he’d had earlier or maybe it was the blissfulness from just hearing Y/N oh so sweet voice saying his name again.

“i love you” Y/N slurred out once more as she started to cry again. “i’ve never stopped” she continued. “i thought i could and would move on but i cant and it hurts me that we aren’t a thing anymore” she continued to weep.

“honey don’t say that. please” he frowned as his heart cracked yet again over his ex girlfriend and her words. more like over her admittance of missing him so much still even after all these years.

“why not, drew? it’s the truth” she sniffled as she wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of his old college sweatshirt she’d still kept after all these year even after their breakup. she picked the bottle of vodka back up and took another swig of it.

“those words…. fuck. they’re coming from the lips of an angel baby. and hearing those words, it’s makes me so fucking weak. because as much as i want to be with you… i cant” he sighed as a single tear streamed down his stubbled cheek, not even bothering to wipe it away. he soon continued, “i never want to say goodbye, honey. and it’s so fucking hard to admit that. but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful with the lips of an angel” he dryly chuckled as the memories of their kisses ran through his brain. it still felt so real. the longing to be near her was still there. and the butterflies. and the desire to make her happy. and the want to make her feel safe and loved.

“drew, you’re the one who just said you guys aren’t even a thing so why would you even say that?” Y/N croaked out as she wiped more of her tears away.

“it’s complicated honey. i feel obligated to be faithful even if her and i aren’t really officially a thing. now please for the love of god, baby, why are you crying? what’s wrong? what happened?” drew exerted his concern as his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“i- uh, drew you cant do anything about it, so it doesn’t matter” she whimpered in a whisper, reaching for the bathroom door knob to make sure it was in fact locked. she squeezed her eyes shut as soon as she heard mavericks yells from their kitchen.

“you know, it’s funny that you called me tonight, Y/N/N, because we had some friends over and the whole time i was just thinking of you and how you’ve been. i haven’t heard from you in two years, hunny” drew whispered, his voice strained from the way his heart clenched in pain at the lack of communication between the two when they had both promised to keep in contact.

“maybe that’s why i dream of you. you know what they say, if you dream of someone that means they’re thinking of you. do you dream of me too?” she spoke shakily, as her jaw began to quiver, biting back yet another sob.

“what about maverick? and yes i’ve dreamt of you too, love. i do often” he confessed as he thought back to his dream he had of her from the other night. the two of them had gone on a picnic in the mountains back in their home state of north carolina, enjoying the scenery and all it had to offer, that was until he was awoken by odessa’s loud alarm blaring throughout his bedroom. drew’s lips parted once more as he spoke again, “and does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?”

“th-that’s why i-i uh called. he… uh he got mad again and s-started to throw some things around the kitchen. h-he said some things which isn’t out of the ordinary with him” her frail voice cracked as she finally admitted to him why she had called him so late in the first place. tears once again started pouring out of her once bright eyes which have now been filled with void. “he drinks… a lot. and when he does… he gets kinda aggressive. he will do things to me and say horrible things as well. i-i called you tonight because i’m drunk and i miss you and i know you’d never do this shit to me and because you listen. so well. you always have” she began to cry again for what felt like the twelfth time that night.

“honey, what are you talking about? has he hit you? do you have a place to go?” drew shot up at the mention of mavericks behavior coming from Y/N. he was on high alert and wanted nothing more than to protect her at that instant.

“i shouldn’t have even called. does odessa even know you’re on the phone with me? i don’t want her to get mad at you. i shouldn’t have even called” Y/N stumbled over her words due to the excessive amounts of alcohol she’d been drinking and maybe even a mix of anxiety.

“no, i don’t think she has a clue. i told her it was probably my mom, but, i knew it was you. i still have your number saved to my phone… with your ringtone too. couldn’t get myself to delete it, even after all these years” he confessed as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. he bit his lip in frustration before speaking sternly this time around, “Y/N, honey, tell me…. has he fucking hit you?”

“y-yes. but he didn’t mean to” she tried to excuse her boyfriends actions, though deep down she knew it was a lie. “and yeah if i have to i can go to my brothers but i don’t need anyone’s fucking help or pity” she blurted a little loud.

“fuck, Y/N” he sighed as fresh tears broke his waterline of his azul eyes, his jaw clenched tight.

“it’s okay, drew, i promise. i’m not your problem anymore. i haven’t been for four years now.” she expressed as she drank the last bit of the vodka that was left in the bottle.

“Y/N can you do one thing for m-“ drew was cut off by a soft knock on the reading rooms door, notifying him that someone ,odessa, was on the other side.

“hey, uh you almost done? it’s getting late and i wanna go to bed” she complained to drew as he’d pulled his phone away from his attentive ears.

“u-uh yeah. let me tell my mom goodnight real quick” he stuttered nervously, worried she’d been ease dropping on part of the private conversation he’d been having on the phone with Y/N. and with that odessa nodded her head as she left the room, shutting the door as she went.

“what is it that you want me to promise you?” Y/N sniffled.

“call me if it gets bad again. i’ll fly out there immediately”

“i promise.”

“i never wanna say goodbye” he admitted to her after her promise.

“i don’t either, but you have to” she spoke flatly as she’d just heard Odessa moments before. she opened her mouth, speaking one last line, “i love you drew”

“i-i love you too honey” drew spoke the words he’d been bottling up since the day the two broke up, as fresh tears streamed down his stubbled cheeks. during the moment he spoke those words all he could hear were mavericks yells and bangs onto the bathroom door through his phone, before the call ended all together.

taglist: @slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

[0anonnymouslyours0]

elevator troubles - spencer reid

warnings; slight dumification, maybe some dom-sub tension, clothed grinding, slight fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex 😏

"you have got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, balling your fists and banging on the elevators walls.

"stop that- seriously!" reid yelped, grabbing your hands away from the wall.

"or what? its not like this could get any worse!" you grumbled.

"its your fault we're in here!" he half-yelled back.

"how is this my fault?" you said, crossing your arms defensively.

"you jammed all the buttons!"

"you got into the elevator in the first place, now i'm stuck in here with you."

"really y/n? petty excuse."

you scoff, turning away from him and heading to the opposite corner. you lean against the wall, while reid slumps down against it, sitting down.

"you should sit down." he says matter of factly.

"i'm fine." you reply curtly, opposed to doing anything he suggests.

"seriously-" he begins, as a particularly loud creak comes from the elevator.

suddenly, the elevator plummets down, and you find yourself falling across the small space right into spencer.

"shit!" you yelp out as you land on top of him. your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, straddling him as the elevator comes to a halt.

you quickly back off him, apologising quietly and you scurry back to the corner. a light pink blush graces your cheeks, curtesy of being so close to spencer.

"are you alright?"

"yeah- sorry for falling on you."

he nods in response. leaning his back against the wall. your eyes find their way to his neck, gawking at his collarbones, your eyes trail down his shoulders to his hands, for the first time noticing how nice they were. large, veiny, with long long fingers-

you cut your thoughts off, grimacing at were that was about to head. clearly the abnormal heat of this elevator was making your delusional.

"have you tried hotch?" spencer asked, and you look up to find him staring at you. before you can help it, another blush spreads across your cheeks and you quickly avert your gaze.

"uh- yeah, no reception."

he nods, eyebrows knitted in thought.

you stay like that for a while eventually closing your eyes, until you hear the rustling of material. you peak one eye open, only to find spencer taking off his vest, part of his shirt underneath coming up with it, you take in the slightly toned stomach and they v shape in ends with. your eyes widen as you notice the smallest amount of a happy trail peaking from above his pants.

jesus christ, you really were going delusional.

"you good?" spencer asked, taking in your flushed cheeks.

“yeah, just uh hot." you decide, perfect excuse.

"take your top off then."

your mouth drops open at his response, and the casualness of his tone. his sounds as if he didn't just ask his workplace nemesis to take their clothes off. spencer shrugs at your shocked expression, offering no further explanation.

should you? i mean who were you kidding. it's not like spencer was going to care, he'd be more repulsed if anything. thinking back to the morning, you remembered you'd put on a baby pink bra today, lacey and cute. theres that at least.

your hands come up undo the buttons on your blouse, before discarding it. you look up at spencer, whos eyes have zeroed in on your chest, taking in your bare stomach and bra. he gulps, appearing nervous.

"what spence, never seen a girl in a bra before?" you asked, teasing him slightly.

"more then you'd expect." he replies curtly, and your eyes widen at his response.

his fingers come down to his on button-up undoing it quickly, and shaking it off. now it was your turn to stare, you'd always known he was in fairly good shape, but god he looked good shirtless.

"what y/n, never seen a guy shirtless before?" he asked cockily.

you couldn't even respond, to flustered by this turn of events to find something to say in return. spencer grins at your lack of response.

"take of your jeans." he says his tone dominant. he still leans casually against the wall.

your mind whirls with possibility, but you find yourself pulling at the zipper, obeying his order. you sit up a bit shrugging your jeans off.

"good girl." he whispers and you practically melt at his words.

"come over here." he says motioning to his outstretched legs.

your crawl across the floor towards him, only in your lingerie and heels, what a sight that must be. clearly spencer enjoys the view, as his eyes rake over your body as you climb into his lap, straddling him once again.

"look at these." he says, pulling at the strap of your panties. you whine at the heat of his touch, leaning into him.

"oh sweetheart," he whispers, hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

"want a kiss?" he asks, and you nod giddily.

his mouth meets yours, lips gliding across eachother. the faint taste of coffee can still be found, from the one he had a few hours ago. you wonder what you taste like. seemingly knowing your thoughts, spencer leans back, a quiet 'fuck' falling from his now plush lips.

"you taste like cherries, baby." he whispers, leaning back in to reconnect your lips.

his tongue finds yours and you moan against him, hands coming up from the ground to his shoulders. he leans back, resting his hand on your hip, and guiding it slowly against his hips. your mouth falls open softly in a silent 'o' at the friction. you can feel him against your panties, hard and you smile to yourself, knowing you did that.

"shit.." spencer mumbles, throwing his head back as you grind harder against him.

"spence- i need- need more."

he leans back up to grin at you, and the needy look on your face.

"so desperate, want me to touch you sweetheart?" he asks and you nod quickly.

the hand resting on your hips trails along the bone, until its at the top of your panties, right above the little pink bow. his hand slips under the band, his finger finding your clit with ease.

“god- ” you gasp out, as he begins to toy with your clit.

you grind onto his bulge, and he lets out a soft groan after a particular hard movement. his hand continues its movements on your clit as continue to grind against him. arching your back into him you moan, feeling your orgasm approaching.

“you close baby?” he asks and you nod dumbly, too fucked out to speak.

his spare hand finds its way to your hip, fastening your movements against him.

“spencer - “ you gasp out, hips stuttering as you approach your high.

he leans forward, pressing kisses along your neck.

“that’s it baby, c’mon. cum for me.”

you cum with a loud moan of his name, few swear words spilling out after.

“look at you, making a mess on my lap.”

you whine as he removes his hand from your clit and pulls you away from his bulge.

“want more spence, please-“

“want me to fuck you?” he asks, hands already working on his dress pants without an answer. he knows you’ll say yes.

“please, god yes.” you say, moving off his lap he can get his pants off.

you palm his boxer-clad dick, fully hard from your previous activities. a low groan leaves his mouth, and you grin at him happily.

you pull his boxers down greedily, licking your lips at the sight of his hard cock. the tip already leaks pre-cum, and you moan softly at the sight of him.

without warning, you lean down to wrap your lips around his tip, earning a loud groan from reid.

“fuck sweetheart- don’t need to-“ he stutters out, but your committed.

you take him down your throat, sucking your cheeks in and bobbing up at down. spencer runs a hand through his hair, chest heaving at the sight of your sucking him off.

you pull of him, before re- focusing your attention on his tip, sucking harshly.

“shit-“ he groans, tapping your shoulder to tell you to stop.

you look up at him frowning.

“don’t you wanna finish?”

“inside of you, wanna finish inside of you sweetheart.” he says breathily, pulling you back into his lap until your entrance is positioned right above his cock.

“can i?” he asks, eyes finding yours.

“yes.”

you sink down onto him, a low loan escaping both of you.

“please move-“ you say slowly grinding your hips against his.

he gets the memo, thrusting up into you gently at first, before developing a steady rhythm. a stream of moans leave both of your mouths as he fucks IO into you.

“not gonna last long- not after you sucking me off.” he says, groaning after.

“same-“ you stutter out. “already so close.”

“such a needy thing, only a few minutes on my cock and your already close.”

all you can do is whimper as you feel your high approaching. your movements become sloppy, as you rely on him to keep going.

you drag your hand down your stomach, beginning to messily toy with your clit.

“shit- that’s hot.” spencer moans out.

“so close-“ you whisper, eyes rolling back into your head.

your cunt squeezes around him, as you approach your orgasm.

“spencer- spencer- spencer!” you chant out as you finish, a loud moan leaving your lips.

“right behind you sweetheart.” spencer says, finishing with a thrust. he groans as he lets go, cum filling up your cunt. you slump against his body, panting loudly.

his hand traces along to your back, a notion filled with affection.

“you okay?” he asks softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your lips.

you nod, smiling into the kiss.

you break apart as a loud ding sounds through the elevator, signalling the someone was here to help. you scramble around the small space, pulling back on your clothes. as you button up the last one on your blouse, spencer comes over, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“talk after?” he asks and you nod, smiling at him sheepishly just as the door opens to reveal hotch and a workman. aaron raises an eyebrow, at your disbelief appearance, and spencer just shrugs in response, talking your hand and exiting the elevator.

[judasgot-it]

Kaldo x Reader - Can I kiss you?

Side note - WHEN IS HE GETTING HIS ANIME EPISODES are not ENOUGH IMAGES OF HIM OMG

word count - 1.5 k

It first started when you were paired up for potions class, paired up with the mysterious boy from the powerful Ghenna family.

You heard a lot about him, how he was excellent with fire magic - how he was guranteed the position of the Fire Cane, just like his mother before him had. Everyone had known this about him though, he wasn't exactly hard to spot, with his rather noteable hairstyle and weird hobby of carrying a giant sword with him.

“So, is it true that you put honey on your sushi?”

His face stayed concentrated, trying to remain hard at the task at hand - his hand expertly waving his wand as if he had done this spell thousands of times before. He probably had, considering his lineage and all. You didn't even bother to participate, seeing as he had rather handled it all himself.

“Where did you hear that?” His voice was deep for you would have thought, rather smoothe and thick than what his stature gave the impression of. Kind of like honey. Ironic.

“I heard it from your roommate. But do you?“ You had taken your nails and started to draw simple patterns on the desk, making little animals made of light that danced along the wood. They entertained you in the lieu of the awkward silence.

”So what if I do? It's not weird.“

He had mumbled the last word, his closed eyelids twitching as he somehow watched your 'group project' bubble over into a perfect reaction. It was an easy A, wasn't it.

“No, it's not. I think it's kind of cute how sweet you like everything, actually.”

You had gone back to watching your little light animals dance around each other, too distracted too see how Kaldo's face flushed. That had been the first time he had heard himself be called 'cute' let alone his 'weird' eating habits.

It was something about being called that, in his mind, would never be replacable.

-

After that project, what you had once known as the rather intimidating 'kid from the Ghenna family' had become some weird shadow that wouldn't leave your side no matter what you did.

Even when he became the Fire Cane, or when you had both graduated - he hadn't ever left your side, running back to you every moment he could.

He was still cute, drenching his sushi in honey every chance he got. Although now he was half a foot taller and had a new outfit, it still made you giggle watching him eat with honey smeared all over his face.

“Kaldo, you kind of look like a cute bear.” Reaching over, you wiped the honey off of his face with your thumb, giving it a taste yourself. It was strangly salty as well, although that was probably blamed by the mixed-in soy sauce.

”Wh' d' m'een k'nd 'f?“ Whatever Kaldo had said, you didn't understand a word of it. Simply nodding, you went and took a sip of your water, watching as he had no trouble swallowing the swathes of honey and bits of fish in his mouth.

“You know, Y/n - you've always called me cute.“

He was serious, facing his entire body towards you. His posture was relaxed, although you've known him long enough to see how his eyebrows crinkled in a sort of nervous tension.

“Do you ever…mean, anything by that?“

The pearl haired man swallowed nervously after saying this, trying to stay calm as his eyes watched for your reaction. You simply blinked back, taking all of him in at the moment.

The Fire Cane, one of the most powerful magic users in the continent, was torn to shreds by flirting. His face said it all to you.

”Kaldo, what do you think I mean by it.“

He looked down to his plate as if it was the most interesting thing in the world - as if the well dead fish had miraculously could answer for him.

“Um. I don't know, it's why I asked. I've been wondering, it just seems, you know…“

”You know? What?“ A smirk pulled across your face as Kaldo struggled to say the word out loud. Romantic. Like a child who just learned a naughty word and was too scared to hear it out loud.

Maybe you should go easy on him, though. Afterall, you did like him. Even if he was taken down so easily by mere words, it seemed. And had more than strange tastes.

”I'm flirting with you. I've been doing it since highschool, actually. Did you just notice?”

The great Fire Cane himself had curled into himself, his tall figure trying to hide into bar seat as best as he could. It didn't work, but seeing a peak of his bright red face and mock of white hair was more than entertaining for you.

It took him a while to bring his composure back, his face still flushed and his posture still taught as he looked down at you. Hard to believe he could be embarrassed so easily.

”So does that mean you like me?“

”I thought it was obvious. Do let anyone else lick honey off of your face?“

”No, but you aren't just anyone.“

Kaldo tried to keep his face serious despite how his embarrassment was still very evident on his face.

”And what do you mean by that?“

You leaned over, your nose almost touching his as you enjoyed watching him fall apart at the realization. He only leaned away slightly, not enough to have your shoulders no longer touch his chest though.

His body was warm, even through his layers of clothes. It made you press up closer against him, continueing your teasing tirade. You had never gone this far before, and you could feel your own blush creep along your cheeks as you felt his hand brush along the back of your neck, pulling you closer-

”Are you going to pay for that, sir?“

The both of you jumped, staring at the disgruntled chef who was glaring at Kaldo's honey covered sushi. His eye's were dark and cold as he watched the two of you awkwardly unentangle from one-another - you even having to scoot back into your chair, after having almost sitting in Kaldo's lap for that near kiss.

You were now the one embarassed, trying to hide your face by staring at the table and hoping no one would notice as Kaldo smoothely paid for both of your orders, as if it made what happened between the two of you any better.

It did not, as the chef's eyes were still felt even as you walked far out of his line of sight.

-

”You know, we should do this again sometime.“

The two of you were walking the same as you always had, side by side - Kaldo slowing his steps to match yours, while you stayed just close to his shoulder, letting his mere status clear your path.

“That chef was so mad at us, though!” You were still freaked out about the look in his eyes - how you had almost kissed Kaldo, had it not been for that guy. You could still imagine the warmth of his gloved hand along your neck, and it made you feel even colder as the wind blew against your face.

Kaldo just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. His confidence had returned, the embarrassment from earlier only seen by the small blush still visible in his cheeks.

”No, I mean, this. I think we should go out again. Like this.“ He shook your shoulders for emphasis, groaning as if to shake sense in your head.

”We do go out like this.“ You were fighting a blush on your cheeks, as well as trying to keep your walking even with his as he pressed his weight on top of yours. He was heavier than it seemed.

”No, but not in this way. Telling each other things, and when before the chef came over. It's nice.“

”Do you just want to kiss me?“

Kaldo blinked his eyes open, staring right at you. His face had turned into the same color as the ribbons in his hair, although you were not one to talk - saying that sentence had made you so weak in the knees you had started to rest your weight against Kaldo's chest, greatful he worked out.

His arm pulled you in closer by the shoulders, forcing you to stop in your tracks. His eyes nearly glowed in the dim streetlights, scanning your every feature.

“I can't help it. You look kissable.”

“Well, I was going to kiss you before, wasn't I? So do it now.“

He didn't need to be told twice, his gloved hand taking your face and pressing it against his. It was messy, your noses mashed against one another and his teeth gnashing against your lips.

You took your hand to card through his ivory hair, thumbing over the red ribbon holding it all together. You gave yourselves room to breathe, and moved against his frozen face as you tried to salvage the awkward kiss.

Kaldo pulled away first, heaving a large breath and eyes wide and blown out. He looked as if he had ran a marathon in that moment.

You tried to catch your breath as well, gaining your footing again as you still felt his warm body pressing against yours. It was either that or the kiss, that had started to make you sweat.

”That was great.“ Kaldo looked insane, coming down from a high that had essentially left breathless. His hair was messy, and his face was broken into one of the widest smiles you had seen in a while.

Sorry y'all, not my best but I think there's some demon that's taken over me and it made me write for Kaldo. Also sorry to the Mashle community.

[mangoshorthand]

I just saw your little post, I'm sorry I didn't clarify. Yes, I am a cis woman and I have more of a swimmer's body (I've been a swimmer for years so it's partially natural and partially conditioned) with wider hips and broad shoulders (typical swimmer long legs too). I hope this helps and sorry for such an inconvenience 😅

- birthday anon 🎂🎉

Original request, (paraphrased):

It's my birthday today and I was wondering if I could get a happy birthday from Five. I guess my prompt would be that throughout my life a lot of people forget my birthday (even my family) and often don't show up so if Five just remembered and decided to be soft and sensual and caring, that would make me the happiest person ever.

No problem Birthday Anon. Sorry this took a couple of days. Happy belated birthday! Also I made you a barista sooo...enjoy that I guess.

The Birthday Girl | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 2.8k words, Rated E

Being born at the start of the year was always a harsh reminder of the fact that you weren’t the main character of all existence, something which it took most people much longer to realize. It was worse when you were a kid, with Christmas and birthday presents amalgamated into one by relatives already stressed out from gift-buying, but it still kind of stung now. Yeah, people had lives and it was a tricky time of year, but you surely didn’t need to be the main character of all existence to have people simply show up for your birthday. 

It was a nice place, you thought, glumly as you popped the olive from your martini into your mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Not too crowded, the music loud enough to dance to without prohibiting conversation. The drinks were cheap and good quality. It would have been the perfect place for a birthday get together. 

You sighed and rested your elbows on the bar. You should have got the picture by now. You were a full grown adult, you knew how it went, and yet you still foolishly invited all your friends and even some family out. 

You’d never imagined that all of them would come, but you thought that at least a few would turn up. Over the past week, as you’d expected, they’d nearly all messaged their excuses and apologies and dropped out. For some, it was too close to going back to work after their christmas break, some were still away, while others were still recovering from New Year and unable to face the idea of partying again so soon.

You didn’t really blame those guys, (at least they had the decency to inform you that they weren’t coming), but you couldn’t help feeling angry at the no-shows who hadn’t even bothered to inform you, leading to you sitting alone in this bar, all dressed up for nothing.

“Hey.”

You turned your head, surprised to hear any voice addressing you. 

“Five,” you said, smiling nervously in greeting.

This was not what you’d planned. He was your favorite customer, yes, he said you made the best coffee in the city, but could you call him your friend? Did two years of late-night coffee twice a week count as a friendship?

He usually came in on one of your late shifts, looking immaculately dressed but gray with exhaustion. At first, he hadn’t talked, just drinking his coffee in silence and leaving with a murmur of thanks and a generous tip, but over time he’d been more receptive to your gentle offers of conversation, and gradually he’d shown up primarily to talk, sitting at the counter as you worked, sipping endless cups of coffee and keeping you company. 

What he hadn’t told you himself, you’d put together from snippets of conversation. You knew about the Umbrella Academy and the apocalypse, but it didn’t really factor into your picture of him. To you, he was just Five: the amusing mix of pessimism, wit, and an old man’s nostalgia for times past incongruous with the body in its twenties.  

Over the time you’d known him, he’d grown into your life easily. He had you looking forward to your late shifts and spending the time between them making mental notes of things to tell him next time you saw him. Your conversations with him were easy and intimate (you’d told him a few things you wouldn’t tell your diary on your deathbed), but the relationship was still this weird, context-bound thing. He was the customer, you were the server.  

He’d surprised you into inviting him to this little get-together a couple of days before new year. It was your first late shift after Christmas, and when he’d arrived and taken up his usual perch at the counter, one of his first remarks was:

“It’s your birthday coming up in a day or two, right?”

“Uh,” you faltered, “Um - yeah.”

He looked at you doubtfully. 

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“No, it is. I’m just surprised, is all. People always forget.”

Five shrugged.

“You told me last year. You swapped shifts to go out for dinner.”

“And you remembered that?”

“Yeah.”

It touched you, the way he spoke so casually, as if he couldn’t possibly do anything but remember this about you. So you invited him to come tonight, hoping he’d say yes but not read too much into it. For months, maybe longer, you’d been wondering, and his attitude then was the thing that pushed you to find out once and for all.

You had to know for sure whether this was something: whether you and he would be the same in a different environment, or whether this thing would just crumble to nothing outside of the diner’s soft-lighting. It would be a good test, you thought, and having other people there would act as a buffer in case of any awkwardness. 

In this, you had been thwarted, because now he stood beside you, looking more smart-casual than you’d ever seen him, frowning in a gray blazer over a dark tee.

“Well…happy birthday,” he said, dumping a giftbag on the bar with a clunk that signaled a bottle inside, “it’s rum. You said you liked mojitos.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding, as he sat on the barstool beside you. 

He took a quick glance around, intelligent green eyes taking stock of the bar. 

“Is it just us?” he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow in a way that made you chuckle.

“Yup,” you smiled, ruefully, “most people canceled, but there were three who just haven’t remembered to show up. I told them to meet me an hour ago, but no word.”

He frowned again, so you offered a little explanation:

“People forget when your birthday’s just after the holidays.” and then, with a smile at him, added, “Except you, of course.”

“Hm,” he said, with an air of contemplation, perhaps reflecting on why you’d told him to meet you later than everyone else. Seeming to dismiss it, however, he turned back to you:

“So you’re stuck with me?”

You looked back over at him, and a smirk developed on his face, one corner of his mouth turning up to complement his cocked eyebrow. 

And in that moment, you made a decision, one that was two years in the making. Why play these games? Why experiment with him? Worst case scenario, he finds another diner. 

“It’s stupid to be here with only two of us. Do you want to come back to mine? Maybe we crack open that rum and help me drown my birthday sorrows? I only live on the next street.”

***

The rum was never opened, because on the street outside your apartment, he stopped you with a hand on your arm.

He’d been silent ever since he agreed to come with you, and when you turned to face him outside your door, he fixed you with such a serious look that you took in a shallow breath.

“Sorry if I make this awkward, but I gotta know. Is this just a drink?”

You looked back at him, studying the earnest slope of his brow and his tense mouth; how the two freckles on his cheek disappeared into a small cleft in his cheek. It was a face that surrendered smiles reluctantly, but you could nearly always tease several out before the end of any shift. 

You shook your head wordlessly.

His adam's apple bobbed in his throat. His eyes, so often scowling, scathing or sardonic, fixed you now with a look of pure, open adoration. His thick lashes did nothing to shade you from the intensity of that look, from the opalescent green of his pupils that pulled at you with such fascination. 

When he spoke, his voice was very low.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to keep your eyes on his face, choosing to study the neckline of his tee, beneath which a hint of sturdy collarbone was visible.

He reached out and gently ghosted his fingers down your cheek. 

“How could anyone forget your birthday?” he murmured. 

Then, he leaned forward and kissed you.

The chill January breeze momentarily played about your neck. A shiver ran through you, but not from cold: from his gentle lips against yours; from the feel of his soft hair between your fingers; from his body close to yours. 

Sweet, chaste and cherishing, it might have seemed platonic, that kiss, but for the way his tongue slipped briefly into the fray, though pulling back quickly: showing you that he had more should you wish to take it.

And you did. You wanted it to the point that you chased his lips when he tried to pull away. He smiled at this and let you catch him, letting your lips part his and your tongue enter his mouth. 

Finally, he succeeded in breaking the embrace, though leaving his hands softly on your hips.

“Take me upstairs?” he asked, huskily.

***

His mouth beside your ear, he held you on his lap like a beautiful fragile thing. He ran his fingers reverently up and down your thighs, like a servant privileged to touch precious silverware with kid gloves. 

He kissed you again, soft and syrupy, as if he was eating fruit perfectly sweetened on the vine, trailing his lips down your shoulder, humming with satisfaction.

 “God,” he whispered, “I could kiss you all day.”

The tender hunger in his tone sent a tingle straight to your core. 

It was a shame to have your back to him. When he’d thrown off his shirt as if it was nothing, your eyes drank him in: the softly defined muscles that were outlined by his movements and the trail of sparse, dark hair disappearing below his waistband. All this time, under those sharply cut suits, there was this.

But you couldn’t focus on the regret too much, not with his strong forearms wrapped around your naked body, his smell of antiperspirant and aftershave, and not with the heat of his hard arousal against your ass and lower back. 

His fingers clearly stated their intent against your inner thigh, pausing an inch away from where you needed him most. 

“May I?” he asked, breath tickling your ear. 

You could hear a little hint of mischief in his voice; the ironic move of his eyebrows.

“Yes please,” you breathed.

“Anything for the birthday girl,” he whispered, nuzzling briefly at your neck.

And he stroked your outer lips with gentle fingers, his index trailing back up your slit, the tip skimming slickness that had already gathered there.

He made an appreciative sound at his discovery, and you moaned at the throb of pleasure from just this teasing movement, bucking against him and momentarily pressing his cock against you more firmly.

“You’re so pretty,” he rasped into your ear, fingers parting your outer lips to reach your excited nub and stroking it in smooth, luxuriant circles, “look at you. So perfect.”

You whimpered and tossed your head helplessly against his shoulder. Heat was already building in your sex, your toes curling against your sheets. The foundations for your orgasm were laid from his very first touch of your aching pussy, your body crying out for him from the moment he kissed you. Now, you were helpless to his fingers: as confident and efficient in rubbing your needy clit as in all his other movements. 

“You deserve to be treated special.” he whispered, “This good?”

“Five.” 

“Yes?”

“Five.”

You could hardly say more, brain scrambling like beaten eggs until no vocabulary remained but the name of the man whose fingers were making come slowly drool down your thighs.

“Want me to stop?” he whispered, tenderly.

You shook your head fiercely. 

“Fi-ive!” you whined again, becoming completely inarticulate now as his ankles hooked around yours, holding your legs open gently. He could sense you beginning to ride your edge, could surely sense the heat burning and coiling and tightening in your stomach until - 

You cried out when you came, feeling more come gush from you, soaking his fingers and your thighs alike. He spoke softly to you as the waves of pleasure broke on you one by one, each bringing a fierce buck of your hips backwards against his hard, hot cock, sandwiched between you.

“That’s it.” he encouraged, “There you go. Feel good, sweetie?” 

You could do nothing but whimper and let yourself be carried by the rapture, surges exploding down each limb again and again.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting against him. 

Through your recovery, he whispered more tender affirmations and praise into your ear, kissing and nosing at the side of your neck as he tried to distract himself from the tingles going up and down his length and the precome still leaking from his tip as your movements against him teased his excited cock. 

After you’d caught your breath, you became aware of the needy way he was kissing you; of the barely-there grinding of his pelvis; of his dick rubbing against you.

“Can I -?” came the desperate, half-articulated whisper.

“Yes please,” you replied.

He laid you down as if you were fragile, like an injured dove held in cupped hands. His gentle movements offered a stark contrast to the state of his gorgeous, curved cock. The tip was an angry pink, his balls high and tight with arousal. Intrigued, you began to caress that heated, swollen part of him. He hissed as you weighed and massaged his balls in one hand, the other closing around his shaft, already slick with precome.

“Don’t judge my stamina based on this, okay?” he said, voice cracking as his neck arched along with your strokes, “How about you stop that and we can try for quality over quantity?” 

It was spoken with self-consciousness that seemed unnecessary to you, given that he’d just rubbed your clit to a thigh-trembling orgasm quicker and more effectively than anyone you’d ever been with. You let his cock go and kissed him on the mouth as he lowered himself towards you. 

When he entered you, his mouth was still on yours, and you felt his sigh or relief against your lips. 

He filled you perfectly, your plush walls immediately gripping him, surrendering him reluctantly as he withdrew. You could see the tight pinch between his eyebrows. His eyes were already screwed shut. 

“Oh.”

The whisper was small and strung out, and you kissed his cheek and lips to encourage him as he let out a few, trembling breaths. 

“That feel good?”

“Yeah,” you gasped, “it feels good, Five. 

His strokes were slow, but skillful, his hips rutting with gentle fluidity. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he whispered, stroking your cheek, “I want to show you how special you are.”

From the movement of his body alone, you would have imagined him in complete control, not even close to his edge, but his increasingly fevered whispers and messy kisses to your lips and neck told a different story.

“Your pussy is so good. It’s so fucking wet.”

You kissed him back, nodding and moaning in affirmative as that perfect curve rubbed you just right inside, the low tempo building an ache as sweet and gentle as his thrusts. You gasped, pulsing around him, and his hips stuttered for the first time.

“F-fuck.” he breathed, “So hot. So perfect.”

He tensed.

“I’m close.”

You smiled against his ear. You were on birth control and you knew enough about Five to know that he didn’t raw-dog every barista who made him a good cup of coffee. It wasn’t logical or sensible but it was the only thing that seemed right after two years of illogical, foolish denial. 

“Come inside me.”

“You sure?”

You barely had time to confirm it to him before he let out an inarticulate cry. His dick pumped hard inside you, coating your walls with his load with his head buried in your neck, still keeping you gasping throughout with controlled, gentle, sensuous pumps of his pelvis.  

***

“You want coffee?”

You lay, bare-breasted on his chest as Five combed his fingers through your hair, feeling warm, content, and glowing from his tenderness. 

“Let me get it for a change.” he said.

“Wow, it really is my birthday,” you teased. 

You heard a short exhale of laughter as he extracted himself gently from the bedsheets. 

“Sure is.”

And, with as little care for his nakedness as if this was his own apartment, he headed across the bedroom, turning back at the door with a wry smile.

“And it’s not over yet.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[h0rnyshakespeare]

Love’s Grave

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x gn!reader (Izuku has a crush on reader) , Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader (reader has a crush on Bakugou) hehehe love triangle~

Genre: angst

Word Count: idk mannnn it’s long

Warnings: Hanahaki disease

A/N: I realized I haven’t written a fic for Midoriya yet and I was like wHAT HOW DARE I- ahem anyway, onto the fic :)

“I have feelings for Katsuki.“

Midoriya’s heart shattered at your words. “W-what?”

You smiled, embarrassed. “Yeah. It felt weird to admit it out loud, but now I know for sure.”

Midoriya wanted to break down from the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling, but kept it together for your sake. “So, um, why’re you telling me?”

“You’re my best friend, Izu, I’ve known you and Katsuki since we were kids; I’m comfortable around you.”

Despite the emotion-wrecking news you had just told him, those few words slightly sped up his heartbeat. “They’re comfortable around me?”

He immediately hated that he’d thought that. Oh, how he hated how much he liked you. But as much as he tried to convince himself this, he knew he loved it. He loved hearing your voice, he could listen to you for ages on end without ever getting tired of your sound. He loved how your smile had his heart do somersaults in his chest. He loved how you were always so patient between him and Bakugou; how you managed to salvage the three of your’s friendship. He loved to fantasize about how you would feel in his arms, how his hands would feel locked with yours, how your lips would feel against his, melding perfectly together.

But as fun as it was, it all had to come to an end. You liked Bakugou, there was no getting around it. Midoriya wanted to punch himself; Bakugou had yet beaten him to something he wanted so badly. Someone he craved, someone he felt at home with. Somebody he loved.

Still, he managed a weak smile for you. “You should confess to him.”

“Oh, um, I was actually planning on waiting it out,” you said, biting your lip. “Someone like Katsuki would definitely only ever see me as a friend, I mean, he’s him and I’m me. Plus, he’s focused on his goals right now, and I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“I see,” Midoriya answered. Silence settled in the room, before Midoriya could not stand being in your dorm room anymore. “I have to go Y/N, it’s close to curfew. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Ok, good night Izu,” you smiled softly at him, shutting your door.

Midoriya ran back to his, crying himself to sleep that night.

The first petal appeared on a school morning. Midoriya was brushing his teeth, getting ready for the day when he started coughing, mildly at first but gradually becoming uncontrollable. He retched into the sink, coughing out a single, yellow petal in the midst of a few crimson droplets of blood. Midoriya’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no,” he muttered. He had heard of the disease before. Hanahaki. The curse of unrequited love. “As if love itself was not a curse already…” Midoriya almost wanted to laugh. He knew the disease was rare, so rare that a cure had yet to be found. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m going to die.”

He felt strangely calm about the whole ordeal. Midoriya decided on one thing: he’d never let you find out until the end. He knew you would blame yourself, holding yourself guilty for feelings you could not help. “It’s ok, Y/N,” he whispered, unsure of whether or not he was actually trying to calm himself down. “It’s ok.”

You had noticed something was off. Midoriya was never one to excel at hiding things, especially from people close to him. He had been acting rather odd lately. At first, it was little things such as locking his door (something Izuku never did usually) and taking bathroom breaks quite frequently during class. You had not questioned him, respecting his space; once he started subtly spending less time with you, however, was where you began to worry. Was it something I did?

You kept trying to find time to talk to him alone, but each time was diverted. You were confused, and decided to confront everything once and for all. You walked to his dorm and knocked on it lightly. “Izuku? Can we talk?”

You heard some movement behind the closed door, letting you know Midoriya was inside. “J-just a minute!” you heard him stutter, the door opening a few minutes later. “Oh, hey Y/N,” he said, looking nervous. “Hi, Izu, I wanted to talk to you about something,” you said, noting how Midoriya’s eyes refused to meet yours. “Oh, um, sure! Come in, what’s up?” he asked as the two of you walked into his dorm room. “‘Zuku, um,” you began; his heart melted yet again at the nicknames you called him. You exhaled slowly. “I hate confrontation but… are you avoiding me?”

Midoriya’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but you’ve been acting kinda off lately… ‘specially around me. I didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, did I?” “No, no you didn’t, Y/ N!” Midoriya replied, arms waving in denial. “It’s just… we’ve been working a lot harder recently, I think I’m just tired.” “Idiot, remember to take care of yourself,” you reprimanded, hitting him lightly on the arm. He chuckled, before feeling another coughing fit coming in. “O-oh! I just remembered I had to give Todoroki his book back today. I need to go do that now, sorry Y/N.” “Okay, no worries! I’m glad I got to talk to you, Izu,” you smiled at him, heading back to your room. Midoriya waited until you were out of sight, then bolted towards the bathroom. He barely made it to the commode before coughing violently. The number of petals had only grown; Midoriya could feel the thorny stems scratching their way up his throat. The inside of the toilet was a mess of blood, bile and golden petals, which Midoriya had previously identified as marigold petals. Marigolds, which symbolized despaired love. Midoriya sighed, hugging the porcelain bowl. Why was this so painful? “It’ll be over soon,” he told himself.

It’ll be over soon.

Soon…

Midoriya woke up in a familiar room. He did not remember passing out, and if he was in the hospital bed he so frequently ended up in, that meant…

‘Someone found me passed out,’ he thought, his blood running cold. Shit. This was supposed to be secret. “Izuku?”

Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse. He turned his head to see you. His heart constricted painfully at your expression. You looked so… despaired. “H-hey,” he smiled. Your eyes filled with tears. Before either of you knew it, your hand had slapped him across the cheek. He stared, mouth slightly agape. “When were you gonna tell me, idiot?” you yelled through your tears. He looked down at his hands quietly. “Who is it?” His head shot back up. “What?” “Who the hell is causing you so much pain?” you asked, firmly.

Midoriya sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” “Izuku-” “Just leave, Y/N,” he whispered. You shook your head stubbornly.

“Listen, I’ve talked with Recovery Girl, you have three options. One, you confess to this person and they realize their feelings for you, two, you go through the surgery… but you’ll lose your memories of them, and three, y-you die. Which I’m not allowing, by the way, so really you only have two options.” Midoriya laughed in spite of himself. “Confessing isn’t gonna work, Y/N… they’ve already told me they like someone else.” Your expression softened. “Hey, it- it wouldn’t hurt to try?” And for a split second, he considered it. Considered telling you. But he didn’t want to hurt you.

“I can’t, Y/N. You’d understand if you knew,” he smiled. You sighed. “Okay then… I guess surgery it is.” Midoriya’s eyes widen in panic. “W-wait, what?” “I told you, dummy. Either confess or surgery. Option 3 is not an option.” Midoriya panicked. Yes, he didn’t want to die but if he went through with the surgery… he’d forget you. All the memories he’d made with you since you both were five. And then you’d know. But the way you were looking at him, expression firm… god he loved you. And he didn’t want to hurt you. So he nodded. The sigh of relief you let out almost made it seem worth it. “I’ll go get Recovery Girl,” you muttered, standing from where you were sitting by the side of his bed. “Wait, now?” Midoriya asked, breaths quickening. Damn, he wasn’t ready. Not now, not ever.

You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Recovery Girl said that we need to take action quickly, Izu. You don’t have a lot of time left…”

Midoriya could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the ringing in his ears drowning out his words. He didn’t think it’d happen this fast. He wasn’t ready to let go.

“Y/N?”

You pause in your tracks. “Yeah?”

“What if… the memories are too important to say goodbye to?”

You looked at him, devastation written in his eyes, wishing you could do anything to remove the pain your best friend was going through.

“No memories are worth a life, Izu. And you’ll get to make new ones with this person, whoever they are. Although personally, anyone who’s making you go through so much doesn’t deserve to be in your life.”

Izuku smiled sadly at your words. If only you knew.

“Okay.”

Midoriya’s eyes fluttered open, wincing in pain as they adjusted to the bright hospital lighting.

“Look who finally decided to wake up from their beauty sleep,” a familiar voice drawled.

Midoriya turned to see Bakugou, his friend from childhood, and… a person he didn’t recognise.

“Kachchan, what’re you doing here? What… what am I doing here?”

“You had surgery, silly. The doctor will explain, she’s on her way,” the person smiled and said to him. He smiled politely and bowed his head in greeting. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Midoriya Izuku.”

The smile dropped from their face immediately, replaced with shock. “I- what?”

Midoriya felt confused and weirdly guilty. Had he said something to upset them?

“I-I’m sorry-”

They didn’t reply, instead turning to Kachchan in a horrific realisation. “‘Tsuki…”

Kachchan’s face looked grim. Midoriya didn’t understand. Did Kachchan know them?

They coughed and attempted to recover themselves.

“Sorry, I was just a bit confused, I thought you were someone I once knew. I’m Y/N L/N.”

[kpopbestie96]

Crushing on my best friend Bang Chan

Hello lovelies! Bang Chan posted today on Insta!! Which means I get to write a fun little story for you based off the pictures. There might be a part two? Idk yet...might just leave it on a cliffhanger. Hope you all enjoy! 🤗🥰

Paring: Bang Chan x reader, Bang Chan x Y/n

Genre: Stray Kids fan fiction, Bang Chan fan fiction

Warnings: cussing, 17+

"Thanks for meeting me today," he hugged you tightly as soon as you arrived. You've known him for years but you'll never get tired of his hugs. They feel as if they are a comfort blanket, never waiting to leave his arms.

"Of course! I tried rushing over as quick as I could as soon as I got your text." You mentioned when sitting down next to him on the bench.

He didn't say anything more, never seeing him this quiet. You worriedly turned your head to see his hung low while you tried figuring out what was wrong. On the way over you tried to decipher his text. All his message said was come to the bench you and him always meet at, where you both discuss problems.

"Everything okay?" You eyed him suspiciously.

You could see him tighten his grip on the bench, seeing the veins popping up. "I think she's cheating on me..." he said in almost a whisper but loud enough to hear.

Taken a bit back, you could feel a tiny bit of your heart crack for him. You've never like his girlfriend but didn't think she would ever cheat. "Your girlfriend? No way...there's no way anyone could cheat on you."

You could see the side of his lips smirk before turning serious again as he looked at you with heavy eyes. "That's nice of you to say but I saw the message..."

Your breath was hitched in your throat when he said that. "What do you mean?" Your right eyebrow raised out of curiosity.

He let out a deep sigh before explaining but he didn't even look at you, he just looked straight out to the world. "We were hanging out one night and her phone began to ring...when she quickly reached over and put it on silent. I asked who it was but she said it was spam. So I thought nothing of it," you couldn't help but catch a glimpse him biting his lower lip out of been anxious.

"When she went to the bathroom, her phone went off again. I asked her about it but she said it was nothing, turning her phone over on my night stand. Which she's never done before. Am I being paranoid?"

You hated how much she was making him hurt by this. She could have easily shown him who was calling but I don't want to hurt his heart more...I don't care how big of a crush I have on him. His happiness comes first. "Hmm, has she been doing anything else out of the ordinary?"

He nodded his head yes before turning his gaze onto you, making you sit up in your spot. Your body tensed, like you were the one in trouble. "Lately, she's been avoiding kissing me, having sex...she's even canceled a few of our dates."

"Chan, I don't think you're paranoid but maybe talk to her about this...about how you feel."

"But what do I say?" You searched his face, wondering what does he say to her. You wanted to be selfish and say she is cheating but your heart was too pure for that.

"Just mention your feelings, like you're doing with me. If she gets mad and turns it on you, that's all you need to know. If she brings out her phone and shows you, there is nothing to worry about."

His lips pierced tightly together as he listened to your helpful words. He was afraid to say anything to her, knowing how she gets but he was tired of feeling like he doesn't matter to her anymore. He saw the hearts in your eyes, looking up at him. "Thanks Y/n, I'll try my best to talk to her tonight."

"You can do it, I know you can," the words tasted sour, feeling a stinging pain in your heart. "Plus, she would be crazy to cheat on you. You're so amazing, the sweetest person I've ever met!" You smiled as he shared one in return, his dimples on display.

"Please, I'm okay at best," he stuck his tongue out slightly to the side as nudged you. "But oh, how did your date go last night, you never told me."

You rubbed the top of your left eye lid gently, trying not to smear any of your makeup while you thought back to the date you were dreading all day yesterday. "It went alright..."

"I'm assuming by that tone, you've never going to talk to him again?"

You couldn't help but chuckle as you played with the gold dainty daisy ring that sat on your right middle finger. "You know me too well."

"Of course I do, we've been friends since we were 10. But don't worry, we'll find you a great guy." He patted your back, making you fake smile as you looked up at him, wanting to just confess your feelings. I want to be with you, you thought to yourself. Your heart yelling at you to say it out loud.

Your eyes sat on his, while you gripped the hard bench yelling at yourself to just admit it already. "What's wrong?" He asked, seeing his facial expression changed from happy to worried.

Small air escaped your lips, shifting uncomfortably in your seat from his gaze locked on to you. Just say it. "I..." You began as he titled his head to the side, pulling his hand off your back to sit it right next to yours, making them touch.

You could feel your face become warm and a spark shoot through your body. "It's nothing." You shook out of his trance, looking down at your shoes that were touching together by how nervous you were.

"Hey, you can tell me anything. You know I don't judge." He placed his left hand on top of your right, making you look down with your eyes wide enough for them to fall out.

Titling your head up, trying to relax the body you said, "It's just..." A deep breath escaped making Chan know there is something your holding back. He can see it in your eyes that you have so much to tell him.

A tiny bit is hoping you confess how you feel about him. He's always pictured a moment like this. The crush he has on you would make him daydream about sitting on this exact bench, while you confess how much you like him.

"I...I think I'll never find anyone." You moved your head away from him, sighing in defeat.

His heart melted a bit but should have known not to get his hopes up, to think you would find him more than just a friend. "That's not true, look at me," he placed his hand on your shoulder, turning slowly to him where you didn't realize how close he got until your faces were inches apart. You thought he would move away but he didn't. "You're beautiful, funny, loves talking soccer, sweet, caring, any guy would be lucky to be with you."

His dimples showing again as he smiled while you accidently moved your eyes down to his lips then quickly back up to his sight. Your heart was turning, making you realize he will only ever be a friend. "Thanks."

You and him eventually got up and walked around the area, just talking and going over the plans for him tonight. You were laughing about something he said when his flannel slid down his arm a bit, revealing his toned shoulder. Showing off his arm that made you try you best to focus on him but you were losing the ability to.

You both kept walking around the place until it was time to go. Like the gentleman he is, walked you to your car. "Well, thanks for your help. I'll let you know how it goes tonight." He hugged you tightly as he didn't want to let go.

"I hope it goes well," A fake smile appeared on your face as you pulled away before getting into your car.

You waved goodbye as you drove off, immediately yelling at yourself for not say anything. "I'm so stupid, I should have just said it...fuck me. What is my problem??"

The second you walked into your apartment, you threw yourself on to the couch looking at your reflection in the TV. Disgusted by what you saw, you turned it on to find your favorite show to help cheer you up.

After changing, making dinner, you just hung around your house waiting for Chan to message. When watching TV, every five minutes you would pick up your phone to see if he sent anything but nothing. A couple times your phone would ding but it was just your other friends messaging you, disappointing you every time.

The later it got, you decided to go washes dishes before you went to bed. He's never going to text...they'll probably making up right now. You body shivered from that thought, rolling your eyes when you heard your phone go off. Setting down the dish, drying your hands, you rushed over to pick up your phone. Please let it be him, you hoped as it turned on to see it was in fact him.

You sat down on the couch, ready to face whatever he might say.

Great... you thought as you through yourself back on the couch, turning around to lie flat on it while pinching the bridge of your nose. Well there goes that...Actually, I'm going to do it. Fuck it...what's the worse that can happen?

Your thumbs quickly began to dance on the phone screen, trying to hurry up before you second guess yourself.

You only read back the message once, to make sure there were no errors before you hit the send button. "Holy shit! I can't believe I did that!" You yelled out loud, getting up and walking all over your apartment, yelling 'holy fuck' every two seconds.

"Okay, that looks crooked, let's fix that!" You began to fix your pictures on the wall at midnight because there was no way you were going to sit still.

For part two: click here

[dreamfyrie]

End of the Day

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x His Family

Dinner with you and the kids was Aemond's favorite part of the day. His time was mostly spent in small council meetings trying to run the kingdom while Aegon was out doing whatever he pleased. Aegon had declared him Hand of the King early on in his reign, and Aemond was honored. That was before he had become a father and met you, though. Now he was trapped in a continuous cycle of counting down the minutes until he got to reunite with you and the children every evening.

He loved hearing his kids talk about everything they did during the day. Whenever they embellished the details of their day, he'd always look at you and see you holding in a laugh while trying to put on a serious face and play along with their stories.

"Father, I swear! Lightbringer actually talked out loud today, truly!" Your son proclaimed.

"What did he have to say?"

"He told me that he thinks I'm ready to ride, and you should probably start giving me flying lessons."

"You're not big enough to fly yet, maybe if you ate your vegetables so you could grow, you'd be in the air by now," Aemond said.

"Well, I guess I'll never be flying then."

Aemond sat up and asked, "Do you know how I lost my eye?"

"No.." Your son said hesitantly. Aemond had never opened up to the kids about his eye before. They had only ever known him to have one eye and assumed it was normal for some people to be missing one.

Aemond replied with the straightest face, "I refused to eat my vegetables, and the muscles in my face turned weak, and one day it just fell out."

Your youngest son's face turned white from his father's confession while your middle son sat up in his chair beside him, "I thought you said you lost it because you rolled your eyes and complained too much during your High Valyrian lessons?"

All of your children's attention had now been captured.

"What are you talking about? It got cut out when a tail hit him because he didn't make sure to always check his surroundings while he was in the dragon pit, that's why he has the scar," your eldest son stated matter-of-factly.

Thank the gods the kids started fighting about something else, so he didn't have to explain how he somehow managed to lose his eye three different times.

The two of you watched as your toddler stood up on her seat so she could tell a story. She can't help that she makes big gestures with her hands while talking and always somehow manages to accidentally knock over someone's goblet. Standing up like she was giving an important speech was her solution to this dilemma.

She never ceased to be the most entertaining part of dinner. Your daughter slapped her brothers in the face whenever they wouldn't stop picking on her, and Aemond couldn't help but smile. He was the one that gave her that idea, and she never hesitated to put them in their place.

You were pregnant with your fifth child, and out of instinct, Aemond would rest his hand on your belly whenever he wasn't eating. He'd sit there content after dinner, listening to everyone's conversations, and his mind couldn't help but drift off sometimes.

Aemond never got to eat dinner with his father and liked to imagine this is what it could have been like. He loved how his kids felt so comfortable around him that they had no reservations about sharing all their thoughts. Kids were never something he thought too much about. He never imagined he'd enjoy being a father this much, let alone look forward to being surrounded by his children at the end of a long day.

It felt overwhelming at first, having people who loved him unconditionally and looked up to him. He spent most of his life seeking the approval of his parents, and it felt strange that he was in that position now, being in charge of making little humans that loved him so much feel worthy and enough. Aemond saw the way his mother always yelled and hit Aegon, and now that he was a parent himself, he couldn't help but wonder if that's why he turned out to be such a sad person. He would never hurt his own kids, the thought of even raising his voice at them made him feel guilty.

He came back to reality when he saw your daughter wiggling around, dancing with a knife in her hand that she had just used to cut herself a slice of cake, and her brothers yelling at her to put it down.

Aemond let out a chuckle while watching the scene in front of him. Having kids changed him more than he had ever expected. He had never been too close to Aegon, Helaena liked to be left alone with her bugs, and Daeron was away. The camaraderie that came with having siblings was something he never really had the chance to experience.

Watching his children fight like animals between each other but be ready to kill someone that ever hurt one of them, forced him to put a lot of his past into perspective. Too many of Aemond's years were wasted carrying resentment towards Lucerys. He knew if his children were in the position of watching their brother or sister being hurt, they would've done the same exact thing that Lucerys did.

He wished his forgiveness and understanding had come earlier in life, before things were too late to fix. Aemond's kids wouldn't be like him, though. He'd teach them about forgiveness, not judging people too harshly, and trying to see things from other people's points of view. He would try his hardest to pass on his wisdom and be a father worthy of their innocent love.

[loveysloveclub]

i wish you would - mark estapa

in which, you mess up your relationship and spend your days wishing for it to go back to normal.

you and mark had always had a strange relationship. what had started as a small friendship had blossomed into something more behind closed doors and during secret meetings.

no strings attached. it’s what you both agreed on the first time you had woken up next to him, and that’s what it was for a short while.

you should’ve known that your poor, precious heart wouldn’t be able to handle the emotional disconnect that came alongside having a no strings attached relationship, so, it was no surprised when you found yourself falling for the estapa boy.

but alas, all good things must come to an end.

it was 2am and you were currently waiting up for the estapa boy. your roommate was staying at her girlfriends dorm, meaning you had the whole place to yourself. he said he’d be over soon, but that was over an hour ago.

you shouldn’t have been bothered by his tardiness in the same way you shouldn’t look for him in every crowd and drop everything to spend even an inkling of time with him. however, slowly but surely, the hockey player had taken over your every thought.

so, him not showing up made you feel as if you had been stood up in a restaurant.

giving in against your better judgement, you quickly dialled his number and let it ring.

“lexi?” he called through the phone. he was yelling over some sort of loud music and you could hear the additional laughter of what seemed to be his teammates. your eyes squinted together as you cringed.

of course he found something better to do.

you opened your mouth to say something but you were cut off by another voice on the other side of the phone. “mark! come on!” a female giggled on the opposite end.

“one second, em. i’m on the phone to lex-“

you couldn’t bare to hear the rest of the statement, much less be on the phone any longer to the boy. so you hung up quicker than you dialled and pathetically cried yourself to sleep.

how could you be so ridiculous? crying over a boy who made it clear from the get go that he wanted nothing more than a hookup. more importantly, why did you ever think that you were ever going to be a no strings attached type of girl?

you read romance books in your spare time and spent any hour of the day where your brain wasn’t busy imagining your epic love. you pictured your wedding frequently and even had all your kids names chosen out. you were a relationship type of girl, and you were stupid for trying to be anything else.

time moved slower over the next few weeks. you avoided mark like the plague, but it didn’t even seem like he was looking for you. you regretted hanging up the phone that night, picturing all the ways everything could be different. but most importantly, you spent your time wishing he would come back. that by the grace of god he would grow the courage you could never possess and come talk to you.

you didn’t even hold any anger towards the boy anymore, you missed him far too much to stay enraged at him and whoever em was.

a knock sounded on your dorm door, and despite it being the middle of the night and you being home alone, you found yourself dragging your feet to open it.

the sight of ethan edwards, looking rather distressed, caught you off guard.

you had met him a few times through mark, but had never had a close enough relationship for him to know where your dorm was, let alone show up in the middle of the night.

“hello?” you asked, crossing your arms over the oversized tshirt you currently adorned. “marks been hurt and he really needs you.” ethan rushed out, tugging at his hair panicky.

your heart dropped, nodding your head quickly, you allowed the edwards boy to drag you out of your dorm building and into the michigan cold.

god, if you knew you’d be rushing out to save a 6 foot something hockey player in the middle of the night, you’d have worn something a tad bit warmer.

“where are we going?” you asked ethan as your eyes searched the courtyard, eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased with confusion.

“he should be right here.” ethan explained, thought his voice was now humorous rather than distressed.

your eyes fleeted in every which direction, but you came up with nothing. “i don’t see him.” you turned to speak to ethan, only to find him missing. your jaw dropped, as well as your hands to your side. he had really dragged you out of bed and into the cold only to abandon you.

“hi lex.”

a yelp escaped you as you spun around, hands raised and fists clenched. you were no more comforted when you were met with mark.

“you’re not injured.” you pointed out the obvious. he stood tall, hands in the pockets of his jumper. he laughed at your observation before taking a step towards you, you responded by taking a step backwards.

“and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“no i’ve been busy.” you retorted.

“no, you haven’t.” mark shot back, and he knew he was right when your mouth clamped shut as you had nothing to say to him.

silence consumed you both as you stood in the cold air.

“i miss you.” he spoke up.

your world seemed to stop spinning on its axis, but you knew he could never miss you in the way you had spent the passed couple of weeks missing him.

“i can’t do this anymore, mark.” you sighed, willing yourself to look anywhere else but him. “do what?” he responded, taking another step towards you. you stood still this time.

“this arrangement me we have going on. i can’t do it anymore. i should’ve never agreed to it.” you shook your head, urging the tears that brimmed at your eyes to go away. you didn’t need to cry in front of him.

“i thought you liked me.” his voice sounded small, almost hurt by your revelation. the sudden difference in his demeanour has you snapping your eyes from your shoes to his face. he looked crushed, as if you had murdered his family in front of him.

“that’s the problem, mark. i like you. but not in the way you want, and not in the way you like me. i’m not built for this no strings attached bullshit. and i’m sorry i never said anything, but i’m saying it now.”

“lexi-“ he began, but you couldn’t hear him reject you like you knew he was going to.

“don’t bother, mark. i came terms to it a long time ago.” you turned to leave, to rush back to the warmth and comfort of your own bed where you would cry yourself to sleep again. but you didn’t get very far until a hand was wrapping around your wrist and tugging you back into them. time slowed to a stop when marks lips crashed against yours, the boy pouring out everything you didn’t let him say.

catching up with what was going on, your hands snaked around his neck before he pulled away. “you’re the stupidest girl i’ve ever met, lex.”

scoffing, you unravelled yourself from him and gave him the hardest shove you could muster. he always knew how to push your buttons. turning to walk back to your dorm, an arm slipped around your shoulders and began the walk with you.

“i didn’t think eddy was gonna pull off the acting to be honest.”

“he wasn’t very good.” you lied, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand raised to play with marks fingers.

“then why did you come running out here all “where’s my mark?”” his voice was high pitched as he mocked you, earning him another shove.

“quit yapping, estapa. i’m cold.”

[natspookie]

Nat x spidey-powers!reader (romantic or platonic up to you)

Got a couple ideas involving reader who is pretty happy just being a hero around NYC instead of an avenger going on big missions:

* Reader botches a stealthy takedown of some robbers in NYC. Gets a little roughed up (minor bruises and scrapes). Then asks Nat for lessons in "how to stealth"

* 4 times reader fails to sneak up on Nat. And the 1 time they succeed.

* Reader getting in over their head with something big happening in NYC and calls Nat for backup

Love your work! No worries if you don't vibe with any of these ideas. I just saw that you were looking for more. Thank you so much for sharing what you write:)

a/n, whennnn i tell you i grinned ear to ear at having a request heheeheh, thank you anon<333

i hope you don’t mind i mixed these requests a bit and write it in fem!reader ? if you want a gender neutral one lmk!!!

★ summary : 4 times reader fails to sneak up on natasha and the one time she does

#1

you tried to sneak up on natasha by tiptoeing your way through the compound. you smiled seeing natasha’s back faced to you in the middle of the kitchen, making her famous peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“i heard you tiptoe from the entrance” you could hear her smirking “nattie!” you groaned, making your footsteps known and louder now. “try harder” she handed you a sandwich.

#2

natasha is seated in the middle of your shared apartment with a glass of wine in her hand when she was flipping through the tv channels. you open the balcony door a little, squeezing through, when you hear natasha

“i heard your webs get tangled in the tree, dekta” “nattttt” you whined, sitting on her lap as you tucked your face into her neck. “try quieter” she mumbled with a laugh

#3

“third time’s a charm” you mumbled trying to use your spidey senses to hear natasha walk through the hallway. you heard her pause before entering the library of the compound, where you were. you held your breath but she opened the door, clearly unsurprised you were hear.

“i heard you hold your breath” “natasha! why can’t you stop being a super spy for a second! i have the super senses” you whined “what’s the fun in that, spidey?” she laughed, shaking her head

#4

you had come home too late when you tiptoed into you and natasha’s shared room, taking your mask off, wincing at the nasty scratch on your forehead.

“dekta?” natasha sat up with a frown, turning the lamp on “sorry nat, these guys were kinda tough” you laughed as you peeled the suit off “ow ow ow” you said as natasha tried to help “sorry” she muttered

you watched as natasha got out her first aid kid “take a shower will ya? i’ll clean it up after” you nodded, tiredly.

when you got out of the shower, natasha had laid out her pajamas for you.

you walked out of the bathroom ready to hear a handful from natasha. she patted your side of the bed and so you sat there. natasha disinfected the wounds carefully as you bit your lip. “dekta you need to be more careful, i’m serious. look at this…” she pointed to the open wound on your leg “this could get infected”

“i really tried to he careful nat” you said, teary eyed “you can always call me if you need backup okay?” she cupped your face, carefully leaning against your forehead as you nodded.

#5

natasha sighs from the balcony of your shared apartment, watching the sunset. she wished you came back from all your ‘good neighborhood friend’ work. she mostly wished you didn’t forget it was your 1 year anniversary.

she twirled her hair around, leaning her head at the palm of her hand in hopes of catching a glimpse of you swinging through the city. just when she lost all hope, a loud squeal left her mouth as you swooped her body securely and swung through the city.

“Y/N DON’T DROP ME!” she squeezed her eyes shut as you swung through the city that never sleeps. “shh, you’ll be fine nattie, i’ve got you” you squeezed her thrice before landing on top of a building overlooking the brookyln bridge with spiderwebs saying ‘i love you’.

“i thought you forgot” natasha looked at the bridge in awe before turning around to see all her favorite food on a picnic blanket. “i should be hurt but i’ll let you go this once” you winked

“happy anniversary, my spider” natasha placed herself on your lap “happy anniversary nattie, i finally snuck up on you” “don’t gloat” she nudged your shoulder

[bi-bi-bi-bakugo]

A Short Essay on Names in My Hero Academia and What That Means for Katsuki and Izuku

Introduction

Names have always had an important role in the storytelling of My Hero. Names dictate personality, they tell us the viewer, who the character is. Not in the most point blank way of say, naming a bad guy "Lucifer" to show that this character is evil or complex. But in the sense of what that name means to the character. For example, the personality shift when it's revealed Dabi is Touya Todoroki. People have talked about it. Dabi is quiet and reserved, but Touya is loud and eccentric and wild. With the name revealed, he is free to be who he is. He reverts to who he was back when he was known as Touya, because now the world knows him as Touya, so now he can act like Touya.

Hawks used to be Keigo Takami, but he had his name stripped from him by the HPSC. He's Hawks now, just Hawks. That's all people know him as. And it's not like all heroes hide their identity. It isn't like a DC Comics situation. If that were the case, Aizawa probably would have been called Eraserhead-Sensei by the kids instead of Aizawa-Sensei. So heroes hiding their identity isn't a large part of this hero society. Meaning Hawks did not have to lose his name but it was taken from him to show he was now their puppet, their property. He wasn't his own person anymore but an extension of the HPSC.

Starting with "Kacchan"

I know we're joking about Katsuki telling the greatest villain that his name is Kacchan and it is silly, but just think of it seriously for a moment.

Izuku has become/always has been such an integral part of Katsuki's identity. Katsuki is Katsuki because of Izuku. He is Kacchan because that's what Izuku calls him. And Izuku is part of who he is so he must be Kacchan above all other things. Because Kacchan is tied to Izuku, and Izuku is part of who Katsuki is.

It's so beautiful and while the idea of telling the biggest enemy ever that his name is actually Kacchan is super silly, think about it in the context. It's the second defining battle against the villains. Katsuki had just died not five minutes ago when Izuku arrives. Katsuki just died with Izuku being his last thought, with Izuku's name being the last thing he says. But then Izuku comes and there is hope. And then Katsuki is alive and there is hope again.

Ending with "Deku"

Now, the name Deku is very much complicated especially in relation to what it means to Izuku. For years it was used in the same way some people would use a slur. To harm, to other, to put down. But it was given to him by Katsuki, and so he keeps it. Ochako tells Izuku that she likes it, and for the first time Izuku hears that name used with a positive connotation. And that is a turning point for him, and I believe the start of the change in Katsuki's and Izuku's relationship, or at least, the foreshadow of the change.

From there, Izuku makes Deku his hero name and effectively reclaims it. When people ask his name, he always says his name is Deku before his actual name- Izuku Midoriya. That's something that's always stuck out to me. He is doing what Katsuki did during the battle. He is calling himself by the name Katsuki gave him. Just like Katsuki telling Shigaraki/All for One his name is Kacchan. It's the same reason, same meaning. Just Izuku did it first.

Because with Izuku and Katsuki, the other is so integral to who they are as a person. Izuku is Deku because Katsuki said so, and Katsuki is Kacchan because Izuku said so. You can not have one without the other. You can not understand one without knowing or understanding the other. You need one, to know the other.

Conclusion

What Horikoshi has done with names and their meanings in the overall narrative of My Hero is beautiful. In My Hero, names are the very essence of who a character sees themself as. It is such a profound way to write your characters and I love it so much.

[winterisol]

im in the trees, im in the breeze (3/?)

Rosquez Future Reconciliation Fic (2028-TBD)

Part One. || Part Two.

Word Count: 2.1k words Warning(s): Minor descriptions of injuries, angst, non-linear timeline

Valentino has never been known for being patient. Especially as he sits waiting on news about one of his kids. Even with crashes being a apart of the job, he never seems to get used to it. The knowledge that there are things that are truly out of your control, scares him.

Standing outside the medical centre, Valentino ran a hand through his hair. If he was alone he’d probably be pacing around, biting at his lips and fidgeting with his hands. He was never great at waiting, especially when it was around the medical centre.

But next to him sat an equally nervous Marco, who was the first to exit the medical centre with an icepack held to his ribs.

After five minutes of sitting in the waiting room under the florescent lights, white walls and the scent of alcohol, he shot up taking one look at Marco and dragging him outside.

Both of them look a second away from snapping, Marco picking at his lips, not bothering to tame his messy hair. Valentino was certain he didn't look much better leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

Glancing back at Marco, Valentino could not help his fond smile.

Valentino loved all of his kids equally. But perhaps it was the sheer amount of god-worship he received from Marco when he was a kid, or perhaps it was the shocking similarities in their personalities, but Marco has always received the soft loving side of Valentino.

Even now, with Marco being 30, he still sometimes felt like that child back in 2020, overeager, brash, but most of all loving.

Of course that is not to say Marco did not mature. In someways Valentino felt that all his kids were more mature then him. Marco of today no longer blindly blames other riders. Despite being loyal to a fault, he still tries to look at things in a pragmatic manner, or at least acknowledging he is immensely biased and would kill for his friends or family. 

But if one thing still stayed the same, was the immense respect and trust he had for Valentino, eyes still shiny and bright with awe as he talked to Valentino.

The last time someone so close to him stared at him like that was almost a decade ago.

And suddenly, as Bezz turned to look at Valentino the gaze felt suffocating.

“Bezz why don't you wait out here. I’m going to use the restroom, and if there are any updates I'll grab you.” Valentino suddenly said, moving up the stairs and into the building, beelining towards the restrooms.

Entering a stall Valentino sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. It was a chaotic day to say the least, with both Bezz and Celestino crashing out, on top of another poor qualifying from Franky. reflecting on it, his concentration was only broken from the sound of the doors.

Valentino took in a sharp breath, as a voice all too familiar began to speak.

“Alex!”

Valentino heard, the only other sound being feet shuffling against the restroom tiles, echoing across the empty walls.

“No, Ambos sabemos lo difícil que fue-”

Clearly he was cut off by the other Marquez brother, whose voice was so loud Valentino could hear his voice spill out from the phone from the stall in which he hid.

“No, no vueles hasta aquí, estás herido.”

And then there was a pause. What for? Valentino could not tell. He lost the desire to speak Spanish a long time ago.

“no puc.” Marc whispered, and Valentino froze. A phrase so short, words so quiet that if Valentino had not heard it before, he would have never understood.

“Alex,  si us plau, no puc.” 

Whatever was said next was enough for the call to end the beep, the tone hanging heavy in the air.

There was a sigh, and then a loud groan of frustration followed by the sound of the sink, water splashing about, before the door slamming shut a few seconds later. 

Valentino let out a breath he didn’t know he held, unlocking the stall and quietly exiting the restroom. Exiting he turned the corner to immediately see Celestino who stood with a large sling covering his left collarbone. Staring at each other for a few moments, Valentino could see the rims around Celestino’s eyes were wet, most likely the result of angry tears.

Valentino wanted to ask a million different things, but none of them seemed right. Nothing seemed right with Celestino. 

“Celin, Bezz is outside waiting for you.” Valentino finally said, but as the words slipped out he could see Celestino’s gaze hard.

“ Thank you.” Celestino curtly replied, gently pushing past Valentino and towards the entrance, where Marco still sat on the stairs.

Not knowing what to do with himself, Valentino awkwardly trailed the younger Italian, hands shoved in his pockets as he saw Marco perk up, gently pulling Celestino into an embrace, mindful of Celestino’s and his own injuries.

“Boys, why don’t we go to my motorhome? It's the closest and I have snacks.” Valentino weakly offered.

“Let's go! Cele, if we are fast we can still watch the race.” Marco quickly responded, grabbing Celestino’s right hand and tugging the younger boy towards the motorhome, not waiting for a response.

He didn’t need one. Where Marco went, Celestino would follow.

-

Pecco had won the race, though even from the distance of his motorhome, Valentino knew that was the least of Pecco’s concern. The podium was a rather solemn affair, champagne popped, but nothing more than PR smiles across everyone’s faces.

Whispers across the paddock only fuel the situation. Whispers of injury, of surgery, of retirement.

“Marco, Cele, you’re both okay.” Pecco sighed in relief as he entered the motorhome. Moving towards the pity pile that was Marco and Celestino curled on the couch, Pecco attempted to touch Marco’s hair, his leather’s pulled half way down, the gross scent of champagne and sweat premeting throughout the room.

Pushing Pecco away, Marco glared playfully, saying, “Go wash first, you might be a world champion, but that doesn’t mean you can touch me with your stinky hands.”

“You wound me Marco Bezzecchi!” Pecco playfully exclaims, placing a hand over his chest.

Celestino finally cracked a genuine smile as he drawls, “Oh the woes, first you win a race, and now you are being told to shower. Pity is you.”

“The both of you! Ganging up on your elder! Vale, do you see this?” Pecco whines.

“Just go shower, I'd rather you not get champagne on my couch, very expensive.” Valentino teases, sitting around the dining table, his laptop in an attempt to get ahead of his work.

Defeated, Pecco laughed, giving them all a brief finger before slinking towards the bathroom, throwing his neck towel towards Celestino who dodged just in time for it to hit Marco flat in the face.

After showering Pecco joined the two boys on the couch, the three of them squished together, sat on their phones and occasionally giggled as they tapped each other’s shoulders to show them what they had found. 

They decided to have a quiet night, ordering food and lounging around, Pecco begging Marco to review the race with him. 

Watching the start, Valentino looked up from his seat, narrowing his eyes as they rewatched the start, Marco’s mistake earning him a wince from both Pecco and Celestino. 

As the replay started they all held their breath, watching as a distinctive 93 threw its rider into the air, waiting for the inevitable hit.

From there they were all silent, unsure on how to continue. After what felt like the hundredth replay Celestino grabbed the remote, skipping the painfully long red flag and back to the restart.

Marco tried his best to uplift the mood, making fun of Pecco’s mistakes as they reviewed the rest of the race.

By the end Valentino was no longer focused on either the race or his work, an uncomfortable buzz coursing through his veins. Closing his eyes, Valentino tried to focus on anything but that, staring at the computer screen in front of him, feeling the texture of his pants, reaching for the smell of food, even trying to listen to the distant sounds of scooters.

Suddenly Marco’s voice broke his focus, the younger rider trying his best not to glance over at Valentino as he asked, “Pecco, have you heard any updates about Marc?”

“Marc? No, I heard the medical centre sent him to the hospital for further scans, but no updates past that.” Pecco shrugged.

“The Marquez brothers don’t seem to have the best luck this year with injuries.” Bezz offhandedly commented.

“Yeah, for Alex it's really blood vessels and nerve damage that's messing with the recovery. I heard he’s already had surgery on his shoulder before.” Celestino replies, shifting uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else in the paddock they all seemed to dance around the elephant in the room, refusing to directly mention him and more specifically his injury. 

“Boys, I’m going to go on a walk. I’m too full to even think.” Valentino announced, cutting through the tension, desperate for some air.

“Don’t get lost, old man.” Valentino hears Pecco call out as he exits the room, the cool evening air giving him a fresh sense of relief.

Unsure on where to go, he lets himself wander, the alleys between the motorhomes just bright enough to see the ground, but other than that almost pitch black.

There was something peaceful about the night, perhaps it was unusual silence around the motorhomes, or perhaps it was the comfort of darkness.

Valentino quietly hummed to himself, brushing his hand against the walls until a short sound caused him to pause.

It was sharp, almost silent, like hearing the subtle squeak of a mouse from the inside of a barn.

A whimper.

Followed by a short sniffle.

Squinting Valentino peer further down his path, a dim yellow light spilling from a motorhome as a figure was tucked behind its stairs, clearly hiding from something.

From where he stood he could clearly make out a 93 on the wall of the motorhome. The person crouched over clearly the owner of that motorhome.

Marc always said he liked to sit outside to think.

If Valentino was a sensible man he would have turned around, pretending he was never there. Just like he did in 2019.

-

It was a typical night in Thailand, bugs humming incessantly while the air was both humid and unbearably warm. Valentino wanted nothing more than to retreat back to his motorhome, but instead he found himself wandering the looming alleyways formed by the trucks, searching for the team's truck where he left his very important phone.

Overall, it was a good race, nothing spectacular enough to write home about, but it wasn’t horrible.

Ducking through the maze, Valentino smiled seeing the monster energy logo, only for a sound cut through his focus. It was then followed by a voice, a pained wince, followed by a familiar laugh. While the laugh was unmissable, there was something off. It’s once familiar sweetness lost from time and pain. No, this laugh was not one of unmarked innocence and enjoyment, no this laugh was a bitter one, almost cynical.

Following the sound, he found himself squinting at a small figure at the end of one of the deadends, sitting against the wheel of a truck, arms covering his face.

“Marc, canalla, pots guanyar una cursa, pots guanyar un mundial, però no pots ni caminar?” He seemed to murmur, followed by a dry heave and then finally a quiet sob.

If Valentino was a better man he would have gone to help.

But he never claimed to be a saint.

-

Instead Valentino found himself walking over, standing an awkward distance away as he finally spoke.

“Marquez? Do you need help? Should I call someone?”

And that seemed to get the man’s attention, rapidly wiping away his tears, looking up quickly only to wince, the movement most definitely pulling at the muscles in his left shoulder.

In the lighting Valentino could almost pretend it was over a decade ago, when seeing Marc did nothing more than excite Valentino. When being so close to him meant a warm embrace.

But instead they maintained distance, eyeing each other warily, Marc strongly keeping an arm's length from Valentino. Like he would be burned if he got any closer.

“I don’t want to hear it Rossi, I promise you I didn’t purposely interfere with the race. And I also promise I’ve not engaged in any mind games with your precious protegee.” Marc bitterly dismisses, pushing himself up from the ground using both arms, definitely trying to make a point.

“I- Did you not hear what I said? I ask if you needed help!” Valentino said back, running a hand through his curls, unsure on how else to proceed.

“Why do you care? You think this will benefit Pecco, Rossi?” Marc drawled, leaning against the motorhome, eyes glinting under the moonlight.

“Don’t call me that!” Valentino snapped back.

“It’s your name, no? Or am I not even worthy enough to utter the name of our sport’s god.” Marc continued, his tongue sharp, words even more scathing.

“Marc, please. Listen to me-” Valentino sighed, not even sure why he was even continuing the conversation.

“No, you listen to me! Why do you even care? After years are nothing but insults? Why must I listen to you?” Marc snapped back, voice shaking as he stood up straight, scrunching his nose as he attempted to push off the wall, forgetting he couldn’t use his left shoulder.

It was a stand still, Valentino not knowing what he could say.

Instead he stared, eyes tracing a familiar pattern across Marc’s face, lingering at the same mole along his temple that has been there as long as Valentino has known him. He also lingered on the unfamiliar. The sign of wrinkles along his eyes and stubble which wasn't there ten years ago covering his jaw. It was a cold reminder that this was not the same Marc Marquez from 2013.

That he didn't know him anymore.

“Just, don’t bother Rossi, I don’t care for whatever delusions brought you here.” Marc hissed, before stalking past Valentino and into his motorhome. Leaving Valentino stood outside. Alone.