#also sorry if my thoughts seem a bit more scrambled than usual - too much pain to think straight past few days (nothing to worry about)

[bumblewarden]

!!!!!!!!!! The doodles!!! Are too cute!!!! omg omg The blorbos and babies are all living happily together, and nothing will ever ruin their peace😊 (*stares daggers at the advancing plot*)

But i must hold in until i can properly enthuse about the reunited family. For now, i must respond vaguely in order (<- said while vibrating)

Novhen does in fact indulge in that little protagonist habit of looting everything he can fit into his pockets. Near everything. Okay, i have to admit, i use looting as a bit of a roleplay moment. As notoriously sticky as his fingers may be, he's generally not going to steal from refugees or other impovershed people. He knows what it's like

Also, i am now realizing that i have been neglecting to read Ilanlas's dialogue in a Dalish/Welsh accent 😔 This must be corrected. Oh boy, i am going to have a time flipping through so many different accents lol. There's so many English accents i can't actually tell apart, Brooklyn, Welsh, and because you associated so many country songs with Khêd in that one post, i've been imagining him with a bit of a southern drawl but idk how correct that is

Re: Ilanlas wondering which god the Maker could most likely be besides the one tatted on his face. Novhen is going to respond "Doesn't have to be Elgar'nan. Could be Sylaise for all I know. You're the expert." (Wow, for all the gaps in his knowledge, this city elf still knows a lot more than Ilanlas might expect about the Creators, but i'm sure that's irrelevant :3 )

When Cassandra comes barging in (uninvited might i add), do you think Feign Death would work there XDXDXD No? Oh well, it was worth a shot XD

And i mean, Morrigan learned Sleep in my playthrough. No reason she can't learn it here! I imagine having Sleep cast on you almost nightly for two whole months will continue to fuck with your sleep schedule after that for a while, but he'll surviiiive

If Khêd ever takes an opportunity to rant through his list of "Things I never want to fight again" Novhen is butting in to add "What about the Children?" That's what's at the top of his list. He'd rather fighter another archdemon than even one more of those Children, he'll claim. *This claim should not be taken at face value (lol Awakening banter idea?)

I certainly hope nobody is insinuating that Radka's old comrade and dear guest is stealing from the Divine's palace! Why, she might just have to whip up a storm of outrage in response! Nobody passing by will notice anything else and certainly not notice anyone slipping in or out of that room full of valuables two doors down the hall on the right with the marble statues on either side!

Also, the image of Khêd interrupting his own translation to remind Sulri that they can't tell anyone that Novhen is probably still alive XD

Warden Interrogator: Are you two having a side conversation? I would strongly prefer if you just interpret directly.

Khêd: It's obvious you don't have a ton of experience in this line of work, but some things take a little more effort to interpret. Let me conduct my business.

At least the Dark Wolf isn't confirmed to be working against the Wardens yet! In fact, his crimes in Denerim had a very pro-Warden slant to them if you're to believe this isn't some vulture claiming someone else's laurels. All we know is he's in the area fleeing royal justice (lol). It's all very suspicious, but he's not confirmed against them yet

Also, since Zev is away in Antiva for the duration of Awakening, i imagine there's going to be at least one night where Novhen knocks at Astala's doors and asks if they can have a sleepover. He's rarely ever had to sleep alone before: only when his tentmate had first watch (and even then, they'll be back before he wakes up) or in extenuating circumstances like his recovery from the archdemon. Maker knows that by the cramped standards of the alienage, these fancy noble beds could probably fit an army in them

And the kids!!!! I'm back to them! They're so cute!!!!!!

I love all the emotions in the first picture! I can really feel Kieran's apprehension! With his newfound loneliness, he could very well be feeling an unsureness that he's never quite had to grapple with at this scale before, and now he's supposed to be making all these important introductions! It's all a bit nerve-wracking, and it'd be nice to have some support

Novhen: It's alright, Kieran. They don't bite. *leans over to Astala* They don't bite, right?

Also, Carlo as the friendliest makes the most sense. A street rat has a bit more need for charisma than a Crow

Morrigan is absolutely returning Perinella's gaze. You stare, you get stared at. Thus is born a beautiful mentorship!

And Virel in the bushes XD XD XD XD XD Novhen totally has him spotted, but he's not going to expose him at quite this moment if it will cause more distance than it will cross. (If Virel is a street cat, then Novhen has a pouch of catnip in his pocket and is ready to pspsps him over at the first sign it might work XD)

At least in the real world, if you're nonverbal, that's often a very convenient excuse for people to ignore you in conversation while still allowing you in the space, so Carlo could probably pretty well attend these meetings and get everyone to believe he's a firm supporter without ever being forced to actually help or harm the movement if he doesn't want to! Ask not what you can do for ableism but what ableism can do for you! (source: am selectively mute)

And that drawing of Novhen with Virel and Perinella at the market is sososososoooooo cute!!!! I am going to die; look at them!!! I imagine Perinella there just spotted a delicious-looking treat, and Novhen's trying to figure out the math of how many plums he'll need to buy to apologize for spoiling her appetite! And yes, Virel can get something too since he was so nice as to help carry groceries

EDIT: I just remembered that Novhen had a speech delay and was nonverbal himself until around 3! That in addition to he generally prefers to not talk much in his personal time if he can get away with + it does hurt a little to speak too much on account of the scars inside his throat, he's more than willing to accommodate for a nonverbal nephew

Very slightly off-topic but do Carlo and Sulri have any overlapping time at Vigil's Keep? I would assume so, but maybe there's some very unfortunate timing in the works that i don't know about? Even if he doesn't yet know the sign languages she uses, i imagine once he does (or if what he already knows is similar enough) that it'll be a huge relief to her to finally have someone around whose default communication is visual lol. Does Tía Sulri play favorites? Will she play favorites once given auntie privileges?

Novhen would be far too excited by tío to be upset by Nobén. I know i did that expression meme once where he was reacting to his name being mispronounced but i think i really overstated how much it'd peeve him off (Expressions are hard :c ). He's used to it being mispronounced, particularly by humans. And it's entirely possible that (mostly for the older three) he might struggle with the pronunciations of their names, so it's only fair they get away with struggling with his. Although if they ever complain a little about struggling with the "vh", Novhen might get in a little joke bout "Is it really that hard? Carlo's never gotten it wrong"

Ooo for a quick nickname detour, Carlo and Virel are harder to organically chop, so they'll probably have to get the -ris treatment. Vir -> Virris is easy enough (Little Way?), but Carlo's "rl" may cause issues. I'm thinking Novhen would eventually settle on Colris? Carris? Idk, that nickname's going through quite a few steps I did not write down, and one of them sounds a little like cholera. That might need to go back to the workshop. Perinella to Peri is easy peasy though! The last three are also pretty intuitive to shorten Rinona -> Rin or Nona, Astolfo -> Asto, and Eidela -> Eida. Thoughts? Because Astala and the kids themselves are absolutely permitted to steer his direction in-universe as well (or if you have any preloaded headcanons on nicknames)

(Also, when i was checking if Astolfo had any other real life nicknames to reference, i saw one of the proposed etymologies included a word for wolf which is a funny coincidence! Or was it intentionally wolf for the unrelated reasons of Zevran being "singing wolf"?)

Novhen will also likely start making an effort to learn Antivan (or whichever languages the older children prefer in addition to Trade. I assume all Crow recruits are taught in Antivan, and if Carlo's preferred spoken language were something more alienage, that might be harder to find a way to learn. Not impossible, but certainly harder. Zevran probably speaks both at least. Language preference is a complicated beast that i am trying very hard to not go into a full essay explaining likelihoods for right here lol.) which he'll be very grateful for once they have to evacuate Amaranthine. It seems only fair that he speak to his new niece and nephews in their preferred language/s, but Trade will have to do in the mean time

Shortly after the first birth, after confirming everyone is healthy and getting the initial coos in:

Novhen: Wolf's maw, I'm so glad I can finally drink again.

Astala: Oh, didn't you hear :) I'm not supposed to drink while breastfeeding either :)

But Astala please be careful with that lettuce! What if you or the baby get hurt! No, don't bench press your rogues either!! That'll be even worse for you XD XD XD

But ohhh i forgot about that one Zevran line entirely ToT He's got so many big feelings that he couldn't allow himself to feel for so long. That paired with everything about poor Cyrai, he is definitely not a small amount of stressed. I'm sure the Cure eases some of his worries, but it cannot be easy

In Novhen's canon, Adaia had a difficult time giving birth. (Novhen, the rotten bugger, insisted on coming out feet first.) If kept, would Astala have ever told Zevran that piece of family history? The breech birth is a little amusing in a fucked up sort of way and probably could've come up as a fun little piece of trivia before there was ever a pregnancy. But even though there's not a strong genetic correlation (assuming Thedas has that knowledge) (besides apparently an increased risk for twins which i just found out!), it could still cause more anxiety once she becomes pregnant

Also that Morrigan is SO dead on "Hm yes I think I did make the right decision handling the pregnancy on my own actually. The innumerable blisters were worth avoiding this" XDXDxD

And oh no!!!!! Rinona!!!!!! Thank whichever deity that claims it first (Urthemiel probably) that Kieran was there! Novhen doesn't have his cane there, so at least it was probably a pretty good day painwise at least it was before he got jumpscared. She looked like she was having so much fun too 😢

He'll let Astala get her lectures in, but he's also going to establish his own terms before any blanket ban can become permanent

Novhen: Now, we're not saying sneaking above my line of sight is off-limits. I don't want some bad bones to get in the way of your learning. But we can't do it like that. What if instead, you toss a tiny pebble my way to announce yourself?

Astala: Are you encouraging them to stone you?

Novhen: I'm encouraging them not to break my back.

(RIP Astala, why is every single rogue she meets like this)

I imagine Novhen and Astala's tales of their old alienage games of hide and seek enrapture their young audience quite well. It probably inspired some of this, now that i think about it 😅 Those kids are gonna be so proud once one of them gets a whole train searching for them just like Novhen got when he was a kid XD

A cousin really is just a sibling with extra steps lol. Still, Kieran's so fancy and worldly 😮 He met the Empress Celene, you know. He's definitely curious and polite, you're right, but if you talk to a Kieran who never held the old god soul, you can see a bit of his good humor in there too 😊 I wonder if Rinona's little whirlwind might be a little overwhelming for Kieran some days lol

I think Kieran might be mostly successful at refusing to get wrapped around someone's finger… until that someone is his cousin who's a whole decade younger than him and so very sweet XD He'll put up a fight, but he's got his da's soft heart

While it might someday become important for his cousins to know about Kieran's relationship to the archdemon, that's going to stay a secret for as long as possible. If Kieran, Carlo, Perinella, and/or Carlo get wrapped up in some companion-type business with the Dreadwolf protag, it might be good to come clean then. And if Astala hasn't already told Zevran what she learned while studying the tome Morrigan left them in Witch Hunt, he's going to be told once they move in together. Novhen figures he has enough right to know if he's going to also be taking up a fairly permanent guardian role ("Uncle Zevran"… bet he never thought that one would happen)

And to close out: you've heard of stealing your boyfriend's clothes! Now it's time for stealing your brother-in-law's clothes! Zevran may be devoted family and a skilled assassin, but he is, first and foremost, an excellent shirt softener 😌

Twins AU (Round 2)

Since our original post exchange got a tad bit long, @bumblerhizal I’m starting a new one here ^^ First, a few things on the doodles: I’m still cackling XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD Especially about Amell (Pavle) going all “woe is me! 😩😩😩” over the dirt on his favorite robe while these two Alienage kids with probably multiple patches and mends on their clothes just look at each other like “can you believe this guy” XD XD XD XD XD XD XD It’s sooooooooo good and I am now imagining Pavle coming face to face with Sigrun’s particular brand of cheerful dead inside XD XD XD The official Grey Warden merch is amazing and our guys are great models. I really want that on a shirt now (and I could, now that I think of it. Ooooooh it’s tempting). I love Valendrian’s grey hair counter. The expression is on point XD XD XD The Plum of Peace should be a Feastday gift. And it’s very good to see reference for Radka, Pavle and Mr Andras (Who looks so kind!!!!!) Mousevhen is absolutely adorable. I want to give him all the pickled beets in the world

Keep reading

[iwadori]

Hiiii!!!! can you do like when you guys are supposed to meet up and they waited for about an hour or so and kept texting you you but you haven't replied so they thought you ditched them and got mad at you and stuff then they decided to go home and while on their way home not too far from their school they found you unconscious body with a large wound on you back and your head bleeding?.

can you pleaseease do tsukishima, yamaguchi, ushijima, bokuto (I'm sorry if that's a lot)

Haikyu Boys when you get hurt Pt 2 (Ushijima,Bokuto

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 2.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Ushijima

You were having the worst week this week,  from battling a cold and your boss making you do all sorts of extra jobs (that were definitely not under your job description.) As easter was swiftly approaching you and Ushijima had your annual plans of going to the local kids community center and helping them with an easter egg hunt. But you don’t think you can manage it this year.

Ushijima gets home from practice with 4 bags just filled with easter eggs ranging from all different sizes, “woah there Toshi, you’ve got enough there too feed all of england” you laugh  

“I don’t think these eggs will be able to sustain England Y/N” he says seriously making you laugh even harder. As you were laughing, you felt another migraine come along making your cringe in pain. “Toshi, I don’t think I can do the easter egg hunt this year?”  

He sits down next to you alarmed that something is wrong, “why what happened Y/N” he asks

“I’ve been feeling terrible all week, and I even have a migraine right now” you say to him thinking he would understand.

“That’s it?” he questions thinking what you said was a joke “I think you can handle a migraine, remember we’re doing this for the kids”

His words were making you feel slightly guilty since maybe you were being over dramatic. “Y/N if it’s really ‘that bad’, i’ll make you some tea so you can feel better,” he says going into the kitchen to start on your tea. You murmur a quiet “thank you” and you end up falling asleep, hoping that by the time you wake up your head stops pounding.

As you wake up, you realise you slept all the way through the night and over to the next day as when you look at your clock it says 12:32 pm. You look at your nightstand and saw that Ushijima wrote you a note saying:  

Y/N I've left out early to set out the easter egg hunt, I’ve made you breakfast so eat up and get prepared for the event which starts at 4pm. Please don’t forget.

Sincerely – Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You chuckle at the fondness of the note, before realising your pain. Your brain felt like it was having a live concert inside that definitely was not going to end soon but you still got up prepared for the day. You didn’t want to let Ushijima or the kids down.  

When you go to the kitchen , you see the cute breakfast that Ushijima made you consisting of all of your favourite foods and with another simple note of him saying ‘ I love you. ‘ Ushijima has always been a lovely boyfriend, treating you like the queen you are always making sure that you were okay. Of course, his bluntness and his lack of social cues was something to get used to but when you did get accustomed to it, it only made you fall in love with him more.

You got ready, feeling even more sick as the piping hot shower that you usual have, did not help as when you were showering you felt heavily faint. However, you persevered since you did not want to let Ushijima down.

You finally were prepared to leave the house, with the community center being on 15 minutes walk away you were leaving out at 3:50pm since you were planning to take your car anyways. When you leave your home, you realise that you forgot your car keys so you dash up the stairs (a bit too quickly) to go and find them. Scrambling through your draws, your head is pounding harder and harder and the more it pounds the quicker your moving making you even more faint. You eventually find your keys and you’re ready to zoom to the community center but your body gave out and you pass out tumbling down the stairs landing at your front door.

Ushijima was waiting outside of the community center waiting for you to arrive it was 4:05pm and he was wondering where you were (knowing that your place was only a 10 minute drive away) he sent you a few texts asking where you were but when you don’t respond Ushijima becomes slightly annoyed, plastering a fake smile on his face and entering the community center, starting the easter egg hunt.

The easter egg hunt came to a close at 8pm and Ushijima assumed that you would’ve showed up some time in the middle of the event, but you obviously didn’t show. After making sure that all the kids left safely Ushijima decided to call and text you more and when you continuously don’t respond and your calls go to voicemail he says ‘Y/N, im really disappointed with you right now. How could you do this to me? You said you would show up, the kids were really upset, how could you be so selfish?’

He walks to your house knocking on the door, but when you don’t immediately answer he knew something must be up now, since you haven’t responded to any of his texts and calls and didn’t show up he figured there was something deeper then you just ditching the event.

He used his key to open the door, surprised when the door hit something. He tried again hitting the ‘object’ that was laying at the door again. He carefully pushes the door to make enough room for him to fit through the gap. When he entered, he was startled at the sight of you, there you lay completely knocked out with a blood stain next to your head. He knelt down next to you and touched your cheek you were extremely cold, he had to get you to a hospital stat. He called an ambulance, panicked. Worrying about how long you’ve been out for since it would have to be atleast more than 4 hours he assumed.

You woke up in a foreign room, with your head slightly stinging. You place your hand on the back of your head and wince, then you remember you need to be at the easter egg hunt so you bolt up ready to move.  

“I don’t think that’s wise for you to do that Y/N” Ushijima says to you  

“Toshi, what happened?” you ask still in pain

“It seems you fell down the stairs and hit your head” after he said that all your memories come flooding back, and you remember rushing to the community centre, looking for your keys, and then falling down the stairs and everything going black.

“I’m sorry Ushi for missing the easter egg hunt, I really tried to get there,” you say with an apologetic look on your face  

“It’s fine Y/N of course you wouldn’t of been able to get there after falling down the stairs” he says “Also, this is proof of why you shouldn’t run down the stairs”

You eventually get discharged with the doctor telling you all you need to do is rest and stay off your feet. Ushijima took the doctor's orders very seriously, becoming your loyal servant and waiting on you hand and foot, tending to your every need. He did also make you were eating healthy and taking all your medicine so you could have the best recovery possible.  

Also, after realising that this could’ve all been avoided if Ushijima didn’t guilt trip you in the first place for having a migraine, he made sure to never ignore or dismiss when you say you are ill or have anything wrong with you even if it’s a migraine, a lost limb or a simple paper cut.

Bokuto  

The Olympics were coming up and Bokuto couldn’t be any more excited than he already was. Everything he’s talked about for the past month he manages to find a way to relate to the Olympics, and as annoying as it got sometimes you were just as excited for it as much as Bokuto was.  

Bokuto was heavily busy with extra practices so you were bored and lonely, since your boyfriend was at practice all the time so you chose to take up a new hobby. You decided to paint, although you weren’t an award-winning painter you still found joy in it. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend you had some slight unwanted attention on you: the usual fans of Bokuto that just followed you to have an extra aspect of him in their life's, or his fangirls that adored him.  

You didn’t mind the fangirls for the most part since majority of them were pretty tamed and did fawn over your relationship. However, there was the minority of fans that did make it known to you that they DID NOT like you at all. When you started posting your paintings, it seems their hate for you amplified since they always found the need to leave an astray of mean comments on your post. But that didn’t mainly bother you since you thought that they only had that energy behind the screen.

The days went by getting closer to the Olympics, with Bokuto always asking you every day “Y/N you are coming to my games, right?” to which you always replied “Of course Kou, I’m coming” which always made him smile.

When the Olympics came, you’ve went to all the games cheering Bokuto and the team on as they were winning round after round. Whilst this was going on, the group of girls that were sending you horrible messages and making mean posts about you weren’t stopping. At first, you didn’t care for them but it seems their posts only gotten worse making comments about your artwork, your face, your body type ect.  

You didn’t want to tell Bokuto as you felt that it would ruin his Olympic momentum and you thought you could handle it all on your own.  

It was nearing to the final game of the Olympics, and Bokuto was ecstatic he made sure that you promised you’d be there claiming that you was his ‘good luck’ charm.’ You were excited to go too, the feeling of watching Bokuto play was exhilarating seeing him fully in his element was great for you to see.

On the last game day, Boktuo was already at the stadium since him and the team had to be there earlier to practice and you planned to meet him there just before the game started at 4:30. You went to a florist before the match getting Bokuto the biggest boquet that you could buy.  

On your way to the stadium you here somebody whistle from behind you, you turn around and see a group of girls waiting behind you smirking. “Hi?” you say more like a question then a statement “do you want something from me?”

Some of them laugh, but the one standing at the front who you mentally lable the ‘main one’ steps closer to you and says “We want you to stay away from Bokuto” you realise that these were the girls sending you hate online for these past weeks.

Before you can even blink, the girls jump you, hitting, kicking and clawing at you. You are in pain, screaming and crying for them to stop and leave you alone. You lay there, letting them beat you up thinking that you’ll probably end up dead out of this. All you can think about is Bokuto, you didn’t get to wish him good luck, or give him your flowers (that you spent a fortune on) or even tell him that you loved him one last time.

You think the girls eventually stopped but you couldn’t tell because your body was throbbing and you hurt all over. You tried to get up still wanting to go to the match but you collapse going out cold.

Bokuto was scanning the crowd over and over for you, hoping to spot you there. But he couldn’t, he was wondering where you were getting sadder and sadder by the second since he really believed you were his good luck charm and he probably wouldn’t be able to win without at least seeing your face once.

They didn’t win. Bokuto knew he wasn’t playing at his best, since all his mind was on was thinking about where you were. You’ve never missed one of his games, so he was incredibly worried. After he accepted his second-place medal, he rushed out the stadium to go to your house but he was stopped by some fangirls ‘I guess signing autographs is the least I can do’ he thinks, the fans were being a bit odd today but he didn’t have time to focus on that as his mind was racing thinking about you and your whereabouts.  

One of his fans did give him an alarmingly big boquet of roses which he appreciated ‘these must of cost a fortune’ he thinks. Although it was a probably a long shot, he decided to ask the fan if he saw someone who looked like *whatever you look like* to maybe see if someone else saw you. Which the fan replied “yeah I saw them with some guy at this restaurant whilst we were going to see you!” they exclaimed.

‘A guy’ he thought ‘that most likely wasn’t you.’ Seeing Bokuto’s confusion, the fan followed up with “I'm pretty sure it was her I mean we all know who Bokuto Koutaro’s girlfriend was.” Bokuto didn’t reply just walking away making sure to thank them for the flowers.  

He was rushing towards your house on foot (since all the taxi’s and ubers were fully booked because of the Olympics) whilst running he stumbles across your passed out body all black and bruised with scratch marks and bleeding all over you. “what happened” he whispered, knowing you obviously weren’t going to respond.  

He picked up your near-dead body, and cradled you in his arms taking you back to the stadium (since he knew that getting an ambulance to come here or running to the hospital would basically be impossible.) When he got back to the stadium, he did get odd looks from strangers but he didn’t care, his only agenda was making sure you were okay.

You woke up, and saw Bokuto pacing the room repeatedly you tried to get his attention by saying his name but your throat was damaged. He eventually notices you and runs to your side, stroking your face softly and giving you a gentle hug making sure not to hurt you.  

“Who did this Y/N?” he asks with worry in his eyes  

You ignore his question and look at the silver medal wrapped around his neck making you sad “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the match, I tried I really did try” you said with your voice sounding even worse after you said every word.  

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad that you’re okay babe, I was really worried about you.” he said

The Medic came in and said that you had multiple broken ribs, but beside that you were fine you just needed to rest your throat and let your bruises heal. You eventually told Bokuto that it was some of his fans, he was upset that you hid this from him for so long but he was just glad that he got to you as soon as he did. He managed to play at the next Olympics and you were there fully present, with your even bigger boquet of flowers watching win gold.

Authors Note: I tried to make it as close to your request as possible, but I hope you enjoy as I really do think this is my favourite work so far.... :3 Comments and feedback appreciated.

[captain039]

Secrets of mutation PART 2

Logan(wolverine) x reader

Warnings: Age gap, student/teacher, AOB, trauma, swearing, sexual, intimate, a little forceful

Xmen X new mutants

AOB will be referred to second gender xD

Last chapter <-

Getting use to other people was difficult. You stayed with your little group most of the time, but when classes were sorted out you were separated, Rahne and Danny seemed eager to get into the whole school while Sam just tagged along and Roberto tried to find Illyana. You felt like the odd one out, trying to figure out your mutation, second gender, your past, things seemed to pile on, and why that man, Logan or the wolverine, had such a strong scent to you, nobody else did. The professor said he would help once you got settled, you didn’t settle well, not in this situation, not knowing anything. After a few days you went to find the professor, rummaging through students before sighing at his office.

“Come in” he said before you even got to knock.

“Ah Y/n” he greeted as you looked to the other person in the room.

“Sorry- do you want me to come back?” You asked.

“No come in, it’s alright” the Professor smiled beckoning you to sit. You avoided eye contact with the man at all costs, the same strong scent coming off him.

“You’re here for answers” the Professor said and you nodded.

“You’re much like Logan here, though you didn’t take a bullet to the head” he chuckled and you snapped your head to look at him in shock. He raised his eyebrows sighing, his arms crossed also. You’ve heard about his mutation, claws and quick healing apparently. You glanced to his fists seeing nothing and frowned.

“You wanna see them?” He asked noticing you eyes.

“Sorry-“ you flushed looking away.

“It’s ok kid” he scoffed a smiled on his face. You heard a slicing sound and looked. You stared wide eyed at the silver claws coming out of his knuckles.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” You said wanting to go closer.

“You can go closer” the Professor smiled assuringly.

“I won’t scratch ya” Logan said as you stood. You looked at them in awe, you hadn’t seen many mutants besides the ones you were with.

“It hurts every time they come out” he said rather quietly.

“Oh I didn’t mean to make you hurt yourself-“ you glanced between him and the professor in apology.

“I’ve just-“ you sighed.

“I haven’t seen a lot of things before” you mumbled lifting your hand to run your fingers along the blunt edge.

“Is it steel?” You asked as the man stared at you.

“Adamanthium” The Professor said.

“An indestructible metal” he added.

“Woah” you whispered.

“So is it just your claws that are metal?” You asked.

“His whole skeleton is” the Professor spoke again.

“Were you born with metal in you?” You asked softly and he chuckled his claws going back in.

“No I was bone before I went into an experiment” Logan spoke this time and you frowned.

“Not like your programs though” you nodded at his words and backed away.

“Thank you for showing me- I guess I’m a new kid learning again” you said a little embarrassed.

“I think they’re cool” you added sitting down with your eyes cast down.

“You’re in a good place now kid, the Professor will help you out” Logan rested a hand on your shoulder before leaving and you watched.

“Seems he likes you” the Professor chuckled.

“What-?” You mumbled.

“Take it as a compliment dear, he’s usually a grumpy old man” he chuckled again.

“Oh” you said glancing to the door again intrigued.

“Shall we start at the beginning?” He asked catching your attention again.

“What’s the beginning?” You asked.

“Simple things, age, name, last name” he shrugged.

“My names Y/n Y/l/n” you said and he nodded. You were confused but said your age and he nodded again.

“I’m a mutant?” You shrugged.

“Good, do you remember anything about your family?” He asked and you frowned.

“I only get glimpses of people without faces, laughs and a house” you said fiddling with your fingers.

“Do you remember their names?” He quizzed.

“No” you whispered sadly.

“I have feelings of happiness when I remember, family happiness, I don’t know if that helps?” You sighed.

“It’s a start” the Professor smiled.

“What do you remember from waking up at the program?” He asked.

“I was on a hospital bed, well I was cuffed to a hospital bed, um the room was creepy like in a horror movie hospital. Dr Reyes came in said I was a mutant and I’d just shown” you thought a bit going through memories.

“I never showed my mutation though so I doubted I even was one, Magik didn’t like me kept picking on me, Rahne said that she could smell me? Like I had a different scent to the others. I don’t know why” you mumbled the last bit.

“It wasn’t a program more of a prison, I remember having horrible nightmares but that was from Danny apparently” you trailed off.

“Yes her mutation is quite unique I’ve never seen anything like it” the Professor spoke.

“Yeah, I don’t really remember much” you said softly sighing.

“That’s alright, that’s why you’re here, to unlock your past and create a future” he smiled at you.

“Can I ask something?” You said and he nodded.

“Of course” he smiled.

“About our second gender” you mumbled.

“Ah with that, I can go through your mind and find it for you, it’ll be like you never didn’t know it” you nodded a little confused.

“It may sting though” he moved to sit in front of you and you took a deep breath as he pressed his fingers to your temple.

Memories flashed by and your mind scrambled while you gripped the chair. Your heart sped as voices and images flashed through your memories.

“Y/n” you didn’t realise he had stopped as you shook on the chair. You had cried out as too many things flashed by, memories flooding, people, places. You sobbed softly at the memory of your parents being murdered before the men took you. You remembered changing and running into the woods before the tranquillised you.

You groaned in pain as you tumbled on the floor, body shaking uncontrollably. You heard Rahnes voice close but couldn’t focus on what was happening as your bones changed and reshaped.

You laid on the floor, eyes closed and breathing steady. You heard faint voices as you slowly opened your eyes and lifted your head.

“That’s why you could sense her Rahne” you heard the professor say. You went to speak but it came out a distorted meow almost. You frowned looking to Rahne as she stared at you.

“You’re a cat” she said and you froze.

“Like a big cat” you looked to Danny behind her who spoke.

“Is it Y/n?” Sam asked.

“Yes” the Professor answered for you as you looked back to him.

“She’s got her memories back too” he said and they all looked surprised.

You felt your body change again and sighed as you laid on the ground naked.

“Here” Sam quickly covered you with a blanket and you thanked him softly.

“Seems we unlocked a little more than expected” the Professor said and you nodded not bothering to get off the ground.

Next chapter ->

[thebluesideofmyworld]

A Good Guy - A Solangelo One-Shot

Summary: Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. But when it came to Nico di Angelo, would he ever be good enough, though?

Word count: 3900 words || Rating: Teenage and Up Audiences || Read on AO3

Notes:

1. Based on the song "good guys" by LANY 2. My contribution for @after-everything-pjo-zine project. Check out other fics (each fic is accompanied by great fanart so you just HAVE to check it out) in the zine here.

***

Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. And he would proudly say that it’s because his family raised him to be one. His Mama made sure that he never forgot to say please, sorry and thank you, and his grandma taught him to respect people. Even though Apollo wasn’t around to be an ideal father as Will was growing up in Tennessee, his grandpa showed him how to be a Southern gentleman.

So yeah, he might come across as a young man who with a sassy attitude. But heck, Will knew that he was a good guy. And he’s proud of that.

But here’s the thing. Here’s a thing about being a good guy. Being a good guy might sound like it’s a good thing to do. But being a good guy also sometimes meant that you’re almost as invisible as a wallflower. Because even though you’re good, there were always be better guys. And one thing that Will learned about being a good guy? Good guys never win.

***

“It’s been almost two weeks, you know,” Will said as he kept his eyes at the monthly medical report that he (pretended) to be reading.

“Two weeks since what?” Kayla asked, but didn't bother to pretend that she's actually interested.

“Since Nico went for that quest, remember? Something about Persephone’s parrot or something?” Will said, still trying to keep his eyes at the notes. Because he knew that Kayla might still see the worry in Will’s eyes. (Sometimes it’s almost scary, how his siblings knew him too well).

“Oh? Really? Has it been two weeks yet?”

“Almost,” Will said, decided to leave the detail that it’s actually has been 11 days and since Nico had left the camp early in the morning and now it was almost dinner, it’s been almost twelve freaking days since Nico left the camp for that stupid quest.

“I mean, of course, it might be nothing but well, I thought it was supposed to be a short, simple quest?” Will continued. “Usually if it’s just this small quest, it never took him this long before. Usually it would just be like, three days, five, at the most, and like, a week if he took a detour to impulsively do something unnecessary, but never this long.”

Will lifted his head and turned to look at Kayla, who didn’t seem to share the same worry as Will. Her eyes were still fixed on the glossy pictures of the magazine that she was looking at. A non-committal hum coming from her was the only sign that she was (kind of) listening.

Will tried to focus on the lines of writing in front of him, but the letters were all jumbled and he couldn’t make himself try to read anything. His mind was too busy thinking about different reasons and scenarios of why Nico wasn’t back yet from the quest.

“Do you think I should ask Chiron about it? Probably he’s heard from Nico, y’know. Like, maybe something came up and I don’t know, maybe Chiron knew or maybe even Rachel got a vision or something, or-“

“Or you could have just contacted me, Solace. Pretty sure that it doesn't hurt to try IM me”

Will stood up and spun to face the direction where the voice was coming from. He did it so fast, he got dizzy because of it. It took him two seconds before his eyes could fully focus on Nico di Angelo, who was staring at him. His face looked nonchalant, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Uh, hey,” Will greeted, gripping the desk as he suddenly needed to get a hold of himself. “You’re back.”

Nico gave him a single nod, brushing away some strands of hair from covering his eyes. “Yep. I just got back.” He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “Thought I’d drop by here before I report to Chiron.”

Will tightened his grip on the desk, trying his best to hold himself from closing the distance between him and Nico just to pull Nico into his arms.

“And uh… What brings you here?”

The emotional part of him wished that he was the reason why Nico came straight to the infirmary after the quest. But the rational part of him shushed him. That damned rational part of him told him that hey, it was him who wanted to see Nico, not the other way around.

Nico kept his eyes at Will and there was something in those dark eyes that Will couldn’t really put his fingers on.

“I thought you wanted me to have a check-up every time I got back from a quest?”

Of course.

Will tried to ease the dull pain in his heart by giving Nico a small smile. “Yeah. Of course. Need to make sure that you won’t fade into the shadows again, huh?” Will let out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, I am your doctor, and a doctor only wants the best for his patients.”

This time Nico stayed silent as he nodded. Will gestured to a nearby cot with his chin.

“Now, if you could just sit down over there, please?”

Still saying nothing, Nico strode to the cot and quickly sat there. Will took a deep breath, mentally telling himself to be professional, and let it out in a long exhale. He made his way to where Nico was waiting for him.

The check-up was a regular one. And there was nothing new about how touching Nico made stupid butterflies do some stupid dancing in his stomach. He ached to ask Nico questions about what happened in the quest and why it took so long. He wanted to know whether Nico ever thought of him while he was on the quest the way Will kept on thinking about him while he was away. He wanted to listen to Nico talk to him, with that slight accent that made his voice so melodious, almost like he was singing.

But it would only scare Nico away.

So he kept his eyes at the board where he jotted down the notes about Nico’s vitals.

“So, uhm… This quest was a bit longer than usual, huh?” Will asked, almost proud of himself that his voice sounded normal.

Nico hummed as he put his jacket back on. “Yeah, we had an unexpected encounter with some empousai. Luckily, David is unexpectedly good at fighting.”

At the mention of the name, Will lifted his head up. “David? You mean the new camper? That Athena kid?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah. For someone who never held a sword before, I have to say that I’m impressed.”

A strange, nauseating heat flared inside Will’s stomach. “Really?”

“Yup. In fact, I promised to give him an extra lesson in sword-fighting tomorrow.”

That strange heat swirled even more inside Will. He stretched his lips into a lame attempt to smile at Nico.

“Oh,” Will said. “Nice.”

“In one way, he strangely reminded me of Percy, you know? The way he held his sword.” And Nico continued talking for a while about that stupid new guy. Will listened, humming every now and then just to show Nico that he’s listening.

Half of his mind wished that the harpies would find that David kid to be a nice target for their dinner. The other half of his mind scowled at him for having that kind of evil wish.

“Okay. Everything looks good. Just make sure that you drink enough water,” Will said as he wrote the date and signed his name on the bottom part of the report.

“So I can go now?”

Will nodded. “Yeah, you’re free to go now,” he answered as he walked back to his desk to put the record in the folder.

“And you’re not even offering to walk me back to my Cabin like a good Southern gentleman?”

Will spun on his heel quickly. He stared at Nico with wide eyes, thinking that he might have been hallucinating.

“What?”

Nico snorted and slid down from the cot. “Never mind. I need to report to Chiron first anyway.”

Will blinked, and it took him a full two seconds before he had his voice again.

“Nico-“

But Nico was already one step away from the door. He stopped and looked at Will over his shoulder. The left tip of his lips curled up, just slightly, forming a ghost of a smile. He gave a two-finger salute to Will.

“I’ll see you around, Solace.”

Not waiting for Will to answer him, Nico stepped away. And just like that, he’s out of sight.

Will stared at the open door. There is this hollowness inside his heart that he couldn't explain. Like he just missed a chance.

He always thought that he’s a good guy. Or at least, he’s trying to.

But would he ever be good enough, though?

***

“What are you doing here?”

Lou Ellen’s voice startled Will.

“Me? Uh…” Will scrambled to pick up the book that he just dropped and showed it to Lou, like he was trying to prove something. “I was reading!”

Lou Ellen stared at him with a glint of amusement in her eyes as she gave Will the Look. The ‘don’t-give-me-bullshit’ Look.

“What, am I not allowed to read in peace?” Will said, a bit defensively.

“Hey, it’s cool dude,” Lou said. “In fact, it was nice to see you somewhere else aside from the infirmary,” she added.

Will relaxed a bit, going back to lean his back on the tree.

“I can see why you choose this spot. It’s much quieter than the infirmary on your busy days,” Lou said.

Will hummed.  His eyes flickered to the far left, to the clearing a few yards away, just for a split second before he opened his book.

“And the view from here is also… decent.”

Lou Ellen’s tone made Will quickly look up again at the daughter of Hecate. She’s now grinning at him, like she just figured something out.

“How long have you been spying on those two?” Lou asked, gesturing with her chin to two demigods in the clearing who seemed to just finished sparring.

Will gaped at her. He blinked and quickly shook his head. “What? No! I’ve told you, I was reading here!”

But Lou Ellen didn’t seem to care about Will’s reaction as she waved at the demigods in the clearing.

“Hey, Nico! David!”

Will’s eyes widened in horror this time as he turned his head around, only to see that Nico and the new Athena kid walked towards them.

“Lou!” he hissed in annoyance.

Lou Ellen just gave him a teasing smirk. “What?”

Will groaned and quickly stood up, his book abandoned on the grass as he unconsciously ran a hand over his wild locks.

“Hey,” Nico greeted. “What’s up?”

Nothing’s up aside from his heartbeat, Will would like to answer. But of course, he kept it to himself as he tried his best to school his face into a relaxed, nonchalant, I’m-just-chilling-here expression.

“Nothing much,” Lou Ellen shrugged her shoulders. “You two are sparring together here? Why? Is the arena too mainstream for you?”

The new Athena kid gave a half-smile as he brushed off some hair from covering his eyes. “It was my request, actually,” he said. “I just want to have a...” he waved his right in a vague circular motion, like trying to find the exact word to say. “A more… realistic view when fighting a monster?”

That didn’t really make sense to Will. But it seemed to be an acceptable reason for Lou Ellen as she nodded at him.

“And has Nico been a good teacher for you?” Lou Ellen asked.

Will didn’t miss the way Lou gave him a quick glance.

David’s half-smile turned into a full one. “He is!” He turned his head to Nico and smiled at him, like he was pleased at Nico. “Thanks for teaching me, Nico. You are very good at sword-fighting.”

Nico returned David’s smile with one of his small smiles. A smile that could have filled Will’s chest with warm air. But since he’s not at the receiving end of that smile, it turned Will’s chest into lead instead.

“Anytime. It was a pleasure.”

“You will teach me more, yes? And ah… We also need to talk more. About football.”

This was the first time for Will to really listen to David talking, and he couldn’t help but notice how David’s voice had quite an accent. Especially when he pronounced football, the way he stretched some syllables.

Nico’s face lit up. “Yeah! We should! I know that Cecil played football! Right?” His eyes darted from Will to Lou Ellen, like asking for confirmation.

“Cecil? He does. I can take you to talk to him. Come on,” Lou Ellen quickly pulled the sleeve of David’s shirt and led him away from the other two demigods.

Will watched the backs of Lou Ellen and David who were walking away from them. He could feel nervousness starting to creep in on him as their voices slowly faded away, as he realized that he’s now alone with Nico.

Not that he hated to be with Nico. It’s just… this wasn’t his plan. He wasn’t prepared. And Will hated it when things didn’t go as he planned. He hated it when he was unprepared.

“David played football,” Nico said just when David and Lou Ellen disappeared from their sight.

Will angled his neck to look at Nico. “And when you said football, did you mean soccer?”

“I mean football,” Nico answered, turning on his heels a little so now he was facing Will. “The real football.”

Will snorted and slid down to sit on the grass. “They’re the same,” he said, leaning his back on the tree.

Nico followed Will, sitting on the grass. “It will always be football for me,” he said. There was a melancholic tone lacing his voice. And it made Will wonder, maybe it’s something that Nico used to play. In the streets in Venice, when he was just a kid who had no idea that Greek gods and goddesses were real.

“We, David and I, we were talking about playing here. I mean, it would be great, you know? David said he played midfield. I’m usually,” Nico paused, but quickly continued. “I mean, I used to play as a striker. If we can connect well, that would be really cool.”

Will closed his eyes while his stomach churned with a strange, unpleasant feeling. So, not only was this David kid good in sword-fighting, he’s good in soccer too?

“Do you play too? I mean, you can be the goal keeper. I guess you would be great. I mean, you’re tall and it would be a great asset for a goalkeeper.”

Will huffed. Stuck between the goalposts while watching Nico and David scoring goals? Yeah. No, thank you.

“We’ll see about that,” Will said, still with his eyes closed.

For a while, none of them said anything. Will opened his eyes when he heard Nico sighed. He turned his head, watching Nico stand up. Nico brushed his pants, and gave Will a small smile.

“I’ll see you around, Solace.”

Will wondered why that smile looked a bit strained, but returned it anyway. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

He watched as Nico walked away.

Someone would be a good guy for Nico, he thought. And even though Will was a good guy, maybe he just wasn’t good enough. So of course, someone would be a good guy for Nico. Someone else. Not Will.

***

Will didn’t even know why he was here, standing awkwardly near the table where the food and drinks were.

Oh, yes. Because Cecil and Lou Ellen practically dragged him here, to this stupid Halloween party organized by the Aphrodite Cabin.

It’s not that Will disliked Halloween. And it wasn’t like he hated Halloween parties either. What he didn’t like, was seeing Nico talking with David at the other corner of the room. Just looking at the sight made a strange, nauseating fire flame inside of him.

“Pining over di Angelo again?” Lou Ellen nudged him on his shoulder.

“Yeah. How long are you going to act like this Will? Playing it cool while we all know how you wish you’re the one talking to di Angelo instead of David?” Cecil joined Lou Ellen in interrogating Will.

Will only rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” he mumbled, and took another sip of Coke from his cup. He tried to watch the campers who were dancing in the middle of the floor. Some kids from the Hermes cabin somehow got a hold of speakers. And of course, with a little help from the Hephaestus kids, the party had a cool sound system that was now playing pop music.

Lou Ellen sighed. Will stole another glance at where Nico was standing. David was leaning a little to whisper something at Nico. The proximity between those two made it a little bit harder for Will to breathe. He wondered what it was that David was telling Nico. But then Nico turned his head to Will. And no matter how cliché it might sound, Will’s heart skipped a beat when their eyes met. Will quickly looked down to the floor.

Next to him, Lou Ellen clicked her tongue.

“You know what? I can’t take this anymore. It’s been MONTHS. This has got to end tonight,” she said. Ignoring Will’s protest, she grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled him along with her, walking towards Nico and David.

A few seconds later, Will was standing with a flustered face in front of Nico and David.

“Hey, Nico, David! You guys enjoying the party?”

David gave that half-smile again. “Ah, yes. The party is nice.” He angled his neck just a bit so now he was looking right at Will. The half-smile subtly transformed into a knowing smirk. “And you? You… You are the healer, yes? Will?”

Will forced himself to smile politely at David. “Yeah. That’s me.”

David gave a single nod. “Nico talked a lot about you. A lot of good things.”

Will blinked. His eyes darted to Nico, but the raven-haired boy looked away from him. Still, his cheeks were a dark shade of red.

“Is that Cecil over there? I think I want to talk to him,” David suddenly said as he pointed at Cecil with his chin. “Lou Ellen? Come with me?”

Lou Ellen grinned as she nodded and made a 90-degree turn on her heels. “Yeah, come on, David. Let's leave these two idiots.”

And just like that, they left Will again, standing awkwardly less than two feet away from Nico.

“Uh… I didn’t expect to see you here,” Will said.

Nico turned his head at Will, an eyebrow slightly raised up. “Oh? I thought you were the one saying that I need to work on my social skill.”

Will gave Nico a small smile. “Yeah. So. Good to see you here, then. I mean, for your social skills and all.”

Nico stared at Will. And there was just something behind those dark eyes. Something that Will couldn’t put into words. Something that made him unable to look away.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Solace?”

The question got Will off-guard. Of all the questions in the world, it’s probably the most unexpected one.

“Huh?”

Nico held his eyes at Will’s for another second, but then he looked away. “Never mind,” he said, half-mumbling. His cheeks blushed again into dark cherry color.

“But… do you want to, though?”

Nico’s head turned back to Will. “Want to do what?”

“Dance? Do you…want to?”

Nico bit his lower lip and he looked down for a second. When he looked up back at Will, his charcoal eyes were soft.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On who’s asking me to.”

Will’s heart started to jump around in his chest.

“What if it’s me asking you?”

The eyes that were staring back at him were now smiling.

“Then I guess, it depends on the song, then.”

Will’s heart was probably doing some crazy somersaults right now, but his lips curled up without him even thinking about it.

“Well, it’s my favorite song that they’re playing right now. I hope it suits you?” he asked, carefully offering his hand.

Nico’s smile was as soft as the look in his eyes. And the moment their fingertips touched, Will’s heart soared high and suddenly his chest was filled with warm, light air.

As Will led Nico to the floor, he thought about how long he has been wanting to do this, to hold Nico’s hand in his.

They swayed along with the music. Nico’s left hand felt perfect in his right hand. Will’s left hand rested on Nico’s hip and Will couldn’t care less about the other people dancing around them.

“Your dancing is better than your singing,” Nico said, a playful smile on his lips.

Will chuckled. “My grandma said a real Southern gentleman must know how to dance. And I remember my Mama dancing with me when I was a kid.”

“Your Mam raised you well, I have to say.”

Will hummed. “I’m a good mama’s boy, I can promise you that.”

“I can see that, Will. Everyone can see that.”

“See what?”

“That you’re a good guy.”

This time Will held his eyes at Nico. “I try to be,” he said. “But… Would I ever be good enough for you?”

Nico huffed. “And you said I was the dense one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Nico stopped, but his feet kept on moving. He sighed. “Gods, do I really have to spell it out to you?” He asked, sounding exasperated as he looked away from Will.

Hope bloomed inside of Will and he grinned and oh, how he wanted to shout and laugh. He took his hand off Nico’s hip so he could gently cup Nico’s cheek, guiding him to face him back.

“Do you mean you like me?” Will asked.

“Well, do you like me?”

Will chuckled and he could feel a stupid smile creeping in. “Why do you even have to ask?”

Nico shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Because you’re nice to me but you’re also nice to everyone? Because you don’t seem to care even if I talk about someone else? Because you…” Nico stopped again and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe because I just…don’t know?”

Will squeezed Nico’s hand just a bit tighter. “I was just… I was just afraid that I’m not good enough for you.”

Nico rolled his eyes. But his lips twitched, like he tried to hold back a smile.

“You’re a good guy, Will. You’re a good guy to everyone. But sometimes I hope that you can be my good guy.”

It’s like a thousand birds were singing inside of Will now as he felt like he was floating in this bubble of happiness.

“Then I’ll be yours, Death Boy.”

Will wrapped his arms around Nico, and pulled him into his embrace.

“I’ll be your good guy, then. I’ll be your everything.”

Nico pulled himself a little away from Will. He looked up at Will and the light in his eyes was like the most beautiful star in a dark night.

“Everything?”

“Everything. Anything you need.”

***

Additional Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :). Reblogs, replies or any other feedbacks are much appreciated. Also please don't forget to check out the zine!!!

[hollowedwing]

Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life

Hawks x gn!winged!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing

THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA

(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)

(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)

_________________________________

tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part. 

Word count: ~1,800

_________________________________

You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.

You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.

It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀

The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street

little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street

A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.

You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes

You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious

________________________________________

Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door

He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.

He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine

As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets

Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work

What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.

*******

Reader's pov(?)

*******

You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you

oh wait...

You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.

You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?

Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?

Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.

Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...

Then it hit you.

You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.

That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.

In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?

Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.

That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.

Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground

You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.

The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.

"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.

"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly. 

“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.

“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought. 

You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.

Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters. 

" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.

Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.

"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.

"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.

"Well thank you very much!"

"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.

Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."

You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."

He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”

You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door. 

Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events. 

Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on. 

You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess. 

You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have

[nah-she-didnt]

JILY AUGUST CHALLENGE | @nah-she-didnt vs @floreatcastellumposts

summer + ok so I almost drowned in the sea whilst body boarding and yeah you saved me but hEY don’t laugh

Read here or on AO3

Lily Of The Sea

Absolutely mental. He must have been absolutely mental to agree to any part of this.

First, there was the fact that he had chosen to spend a week in Wales with Remus when he should have been training for football season. That decision alone would surely ruin his life when he showed up back at school completely out of shape and got booted from the team.

Second, while James liked spending time with one of his best mates, Wales was bloody boring. Remus lived in a charming little cottage with his charming parents in a charming town that had absolutely nothing for a couple of teenage boys to do. There wasn’t even a damn cinema for them to waste away in for the summer. Really, how did people live like this? It was only out of sheer boredom that he’d agreed to spend the day at the beach in the first place. He usually made it a point to avoid the beach at all costs, but these were desperate times indeed.

Herein lay James’ third, and stupidest, decision. He must have been absolutely bloody mental to agree to wade out into the frigid mass of water before him that was the sea.

He turned to throw Remus another reproachful look. “Do I have to do this?”

“Yes!” Remus called over from his spot on the shore. He looked perfectly content, and dry, as he watched James’ slow march to his certain death. “Your fear of open water is, frankly, embarrassing. It’s high time you nipped it in the bud.”

James winced as the water lapped at his shins, blistering his sun-warmed skin with icy cold. “I thought you said you were right behind me?”

Remus grinned. “Oh, you don’t need me. You’re doing brilliantly.” James couldn’t help but notice the mirth in his friend’s voice.

It was true, he did harbor an embarrassing fear of the sea. And why shouldn’t he? The water was so dark you could barely see three inches below the surface. Surely some unknown horror came closer with every step.

James swore loudly. “Rem, I hate this. It’s bloody freezing!”

“It’s the Irish Sea, what do you expect?”

“Damn the Irish then!”

“Mate, you’re English, I don’t think you’re allowed to say that.”

And so, James plowed onward, cursing Remus under his breath. The water was now up to his knees. He could feel the hair on his legs standing at attention as goosebumps emerged from his skin.

However, as he became more and more submerged, something in James began to change. The water was so cold it nearly took his breath away but it also filled him with a new resolve. It wasn’t so bad, really. He could do this.

With that thought, he plunged forward, brought his hands together above his head, and dove straight into an oncoming wave.

He hadn’t been prepared for how quiet underwater was. He was vaguely aware of the wave crashing above his head, but the force of it merely rocked him backward gently. He tried his best to open his eyes but the saltwater stung so fiercely that he shut them tight again. After a few moments of floating beneath the waves, James found his feet below him again and pushed up toward the surface.

He heard Remus’ triumphant whoop as his head broke the surface. He straightened up, embarrassed to find that the water was only about three feet deep, and shook his hair out of his eyes like a dog. “There,” he shouted in Remus’ direction, “I’ve done it. Now, will you come out here with me, please? I don’t need a bloody babysitter.”

Remus sighed loudly. “Yeah alright. Plus, if you drown, I’m sure you’d rather be saved by a fit lifeguard than by me.”

“Too true.”

They spent the next half hour lounging in the water. It was still freezing cold, but James found that it did not bother him so much now. The sun, in a rare moment of favor, had decided to shine bright and warm on the beach today. Remus showed James how to lie back and float so that his top half could be drenched in warmth while his back half rocked with the waves. The effect was actually quite lovely. Perhaps he wasn’t so mental after all.

It was at this very moment that he heard the muffled sound of a whistle.

“Wha-?” James said stupidly as he sat up from his float, pulling his head and ears out of the water so that he could hear properly, “what was that? Remus?”

But Remus was gone. It was only then that James realized how far he had floated from the safety of the beach. He was at least twenty yards away from the shore now, and Remus was not only a few feet away as he previously thought. James whipped his head around frantically. “Remus!”

“Riptide!” Remus’ voice called from somewhere behind him. He turned to see his friend scrambling up the beach through the surf. “Swim parallel to the beach! Now!”

Shit.

This was why he avoided the ocean. What the hell was a riptide? It certainly didn’t sound good.

James flapped his arms wildly as he swam, trying his best to stay parallel to the shore. Now he could feel the pull of the water on his body, coaxing him further and further out into the vast sea. He had to keep swimming. He had to, otherwise how on earth would he be able to murder Remus?

“You’re a bloody bastard, you know that?” James screamed to his friend as he fought against the sea, “You made me come out here!” He was closer to the shore now, almost at the wave breakpoint, only ten yards from where Remus stood.

“I know, I know, keep going!” Remus called, “You’re almost there.”

James fought with all his might to keep swimming. He really was out of shape after all, but he forced the thought from his mind as he struggled. Nearly there.

Finally, he made it back to the shallows. He stood with a great effort and began to stagger drunkenly toward Remus. “I can’t believe you left me out there alone! You smug toss-”

WHAM.

The wave hit James squarely in the back, knocking him hard into the rough, rocky beach.

His cheek caught the edge of a sharp rock. He felt his skin rip and sting fiercely, but he had bigger problems before him. The strength of the retreating wave was dragging him, helplessly, back into the deep. He tried to stand but he had no idea which way was up. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment he truly wondered if he was about to drown.

Then, suddenly, there was warmth. Hands - yes, small, warm hands - wrapped protectively around his chest. Then there were arms, a torso pressed against his back. The last thing he felt before everything went dark was the mysterious body pulling him up, up, up.

...

“Is he dead?”

“Don’t be daft.”

“I’m not. Look at him. He looks dead.”

“He’s not dead, you idiot. He’s breathing just fine. What did you leave him out there for? He can barely swim.”

“We were floating! I didn’t know how far he’d drifted.”

The first thing James noticed was the warmth. His whole body tingled with a warm glow in sharp contrast to the freezing water. The water. Where was the water?

James snapped his eyes open. Two blurry faces swam above him. Remus, who looked concerned, but James only had eyes for the other face that hovered above him. A girl’s face. A very pretty girl’s face.

James blinked. “Am I dead?”

“Apparently not,” Remus sighed, “Christ, James, you really know how to make a scene.”

James barely heard this comment. The girl continued to stare at him, her brow furrowed. She didn’t look all that excited to find that he was alive. The more she looked at him, the more James felt that he’d seen this girl somewhere before.

“Who are you?” He whispered up to her. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he still wasn’t sure that she was not a dream.

“Hold still.” She spoke with a practiced, authoritative voice as she turned away from him to rummage through a red bag at her side. She withdrew a white package that she tore open with her teeth, pulled out a wet cloth, and brought it to his face.

James gasped as the cut on his cheek seared with pain. “Ouch! Blimey, what is that?”

“Rubbing alcohol,” she said, again with that focused voice, “don’t want it getting infected. What month is it?”

“Uh-”

“Evans, let him rest,” Remus protested, “he’s just had a shock.”

The girl shook her head. “We’ve got to make sure he’s not concussed. The month, Potter, what month is it?”

“August,” he said stupidly, “it’s August.”

“Who’s the Prime Minister?”

“Wilson.”

“What’s your name?”

“James Potter, what’s yours?”

This seemed to surprise her. The look of concentration slid from her face as she regarded him cautiously. “Lily.”

James squinted up at her with curiosity. “Of the valley?”

Get it together, you prat said a voice in his head, what a stupid thing to-

To his surprise, she smiled, and his heart did a backflip. “Yeah, sure.” Then she shook her head as if to rid herself of the distraction. “You’re going to be fine. Can you stand?”

James nodded and allowed Remus to pull him roughly to his feet. He steadied himself and reached instinctively up to his throbbing cheek. Lily smacked his hand away.

“What did I just say about infection? Blimey, maybe you are concussed.”

James wracked his throbbing brain. Everything was still a bit fuzzy, but now he was sure that he’d seen this girl before. “How did you know my name?”

Lily shot Remus a knowing look. “We go to school together. In Scotland. Remember?”

James felt his cheeks grow hot. That’s how he knew her, he’d seen Remus hanging around with a cute redhead before. “Ah - yeah, ‘course. Sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

She shrugged as she bent down to pack up her first aid kit. “Why would you? I’m not a footballer, not a posh kid, no big deal.”

James frowned. “I have plenty of friends who aren’t footballers or ‘posh kids,’” he said as he made quotation marks with his fingers. It was hard to keep the defensive edge out of his voice. She made him sound quite shallow. He motioned earnestly toward his friend. “Take Remus over here.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“Anytime.”

“Look,” Lily straightened back up, a look of annoyance on her face, “I’m sure you’ve got lots of friends and all, I just meant that we don’t exactly run in the same crowd.”

“But you know Remus. I heard you call him an idiot before.” James glanced at Remus, who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should stay for this tense conversation or disappear back into the safety of the water. “He only lets his very best friends call him that.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “Really? His friends sound swell.”

Remus, still looking uncomfortable, finally cut in. “We knew each other before school,” he said quickly, looking from James to Lily, “from when we were kids.”

Lily nodded. She was starting to look downright testy now, but James could not for the life of him figure out why. “I used to spend the summers here with my aunt, and we met as kids. We used to go swimming on this beach all the time.” Her face softened at the memory. “It was lovely, actually. I used to love to swim. Haven’t had much time for it lately, until today.”

“Why not?” James persisted. It seemed that every question he asked did nothing more than to elevate her already defensive mood. He couldn’t help it, he had to keep talking to her. Had to keep making her cheeks flush like that.

Lily jerked her head back toward the lifeguard stand. “Don’t have much time, I spent most of my days working here ‘till sunset.”

“Ah,” James pulled what he hoped looked like a sympathetic face, “I see. Not a fun way to spend a holiday, I can imagine.”

Very unfortunately this seemed to be the worst thing he could have possibly said.

“Yeah, well. Some of us have to work to live.” She caught Remus’ eye and said with purpose, “Right. I’ll see you at school, Remus.” And with that, she turned and stalked away, leaving a very stunned James in her wake.

...

“You really cocked that up, huh?.”

“Cheers.”

“No, I mean it. Now she probably thinks you’re some stuck-up, rich brat. Really excellent job on that one.”

“I’m leaving.”

Remus laughed as he grabbed James’ elbow and pulled him back down to sit on the beach. “Christ, you’re touchy today. I’m sorry I almost let you drown, alright?”

James stared out over the glowing pink water. The sea was no less ominous even in the light of the early sunset. He could still feel the waves lapping at his shins, the force of the water smacking his bare back, the pull of the water as he struggled beneath the waves…

He shook his head at the memory. He was safe now, anyway. Thanks to Lily.

“Do you think I’m a stuck up, rich brat?” He refused to look at Remus as he asked the question. Instead, he picked up a large, rough stone and chucked it into the water.

Remus put a hand on his shoulder. “No James, I don’t think that. I think you’re a kind, loyal, and caring rich brat.”

James laughed. “Cheers, mate.”

“Anytime.”

“Give her some time and Lily will see it too. Speaking of...” Remus nodded in the direction behind James.

He turned to see Lily Evans walking toward them. She had pulled a pair of denim shorts over her red lifeguard’s bathing suit, slung a large blue tote bag over her shoulder, and held a half-melted vanilla ice cream cone in each hand.

“Hiya,” she offered as she took a seat next to Remus. James couldn’t tell if it was nerves or embarrassment that kept her from meeting his eyes. “These are for you two. I’m sorry I was a bit harsh before. I mean, you did almost drown, after all.”

James smiled as he accepted the ice cream. “Thanks. And thanks for this, too.”

Remus, however, waved her away as she offered him the cone. “No thanks, I don’t eat dairy.”

James frowned. “You love dairy. I’ve seen you put away an entire wheel of brie in under ten minutes.”

Remus shook his head and stood up, stretching. “No, really. Can’t stand the stuff. I better go find something else more digestible, leave you two alone to talk.”

Lily shot him a dirty look. Remus could not be more transparent if he tried. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

But Remus was already walking back up the beach. “Too late, see you in a bit!”

“Rem!” James called to his friend, but he merely waved his arm wildly over his head in farewell.

They sat in silence for a few moments with only the crashing of the waves to break the tension. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. James watched her fidget as he finished his cone. He wondered if it were uncomfortable to sit in those shorts with the back of her legs pressed against the small, jagged rocks that made up the beach. But he couldn’t let himself think for too long about her legs.

“So,” she broke the silence with what sounded like a great effort, “why can’t you swim?”

James sighed. “Oh, let’s just say it’s none of your concern,” he couldn’t bring himself to admit something so embarrassing, “why don’t you like posh kids?”

Lily, to his surprise, laughed. “None of your concern.”

“Are you sure about that? Since I’m apparently an insufferable rich kid maybe I can provide an inside scoop.”

Lily did not laugh this time. Instead, she stared out over the ocean, her vivid green eyes suddenly orange, reflecting the sunset’s light in the choppy water. “I’ve got a friend from school. Well, a friend from home, really. He’s like me, doesn’t have a lot of - of money, and stuff.” She was starting to shift even more now, clearly uncomfortable. James opened his mouth to stop her, but she plowed on. “He made some not-so-nice friends at school. They care a lot about status and all that, so he doesn’t want them to know anything about his home life. Doesn’t want them to know about me.”

James blinked. He’d known this girl only two hours, and he’d seen her in about fourteen different emotional states. He was quite sure he liked them all and wanted to see even more.

“That bullshit,” he said emphatically, “if he doesn’t value you then he’s an idiot. What a prat, giving up a true friend just to social climb.”

Lily smiled sadly. “You’re right, of course. Still hurts, but you’re right.” She shrugged, trying but failing to seem unphased. “Anyway, I think that’s why I was a bit, uh, prickly earlier. Forgive me?”

James just waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’d be prickly too if it were me. He sounds like a disappointment.” He smiled at shyly, glad that they were approaching something like a friendly conversation, “plus, Remus assured me it wasn’t my finest moment either.”

She smiled again, and another shockwave shot through James’ body. “I forgive you. Friends?”

“Friends with the girl who saved my life? Absolutely.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time the air around them seemed more relaxed. Lily seemed to have found a comfortable position at last. She sat with her legs crossed and her hands placed on the ground behind her, propping her up toward the sea. She had her eyes closed and her head leaned back like she was savoring every roaring crash of waves or whiff of sea air.

“How can you not just love the sea,” she sighed, leaning her head back even further as she sunk into her surroundings, “I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

A few seconds passed before James realized that, at some point, he would have to stop staring at her to answer. “I guess it’s just not for me. You make it look pretty good, though. The sea, I mean.” he said quickly. Very smooth.

Lily, thankfully, ignored his comment. “Tell me the truth,” she turned her head to fix him with an intense look, “why don’t you like the ocean? I shared my trauma, now it’s your turn.”

James sighed. “Alright, I suppose I owe you. I’ve got to warn you, it’s pretty embarrassing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

James paused, trying to decide at the last moment if there was any possible way to tell her the truth and still be respectable in her eyes. There wasn’t.

Finally, he looked at her. “Have you ever seen a movie called ‘Jaws’?”

She pursed her lips, obviously trying not to smile. “Uh, yeah James. I think everyone’s seen that one.”

“Well,” he closed his eyes, preparing for her worst, “I had nightmares for weeks. I don’t know why, but it really got me. I could barely walk through campus puddles on a rainy day. Kept thinking some bloody shark or something was gonna come up, grab my ankle, and pull me in.” He opened one eye to cautiously scan her reaction. “Well? I’m mad, aren’t I?”

He was shocked to find that she was not laughing. Not much, anyway.

“It’s a completely rational fear,” she said thoughtfully, staring out across the blazing water. The sun was almost entirely set now, and soon they’d be engulfed in night. “It’s the fear of the unknown, innit? The anxiety that there’s something unseen lurking around the corner. It’s why people are afraid of spiders and centipedes. All the hidden things that might be there to hurt you. It’s why we wish we could see the future, to be sure that everything is going to turn out alright.”

He knew she was right. He followed her gaze out over the waves. It wasn’t the water that scared him. Wasn’t the searing cold, the slippery rocks underfoot as he plunged further and further into the deep. It was the unknowing, the darkness below him that scared him shitless. “Lily Evans, you are very wise.”

“I know.”

They were silent again, but not uncomfortably so. A strange sense of serenity washed over him. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what was out there.

“I could help, you know,” Lily said without looking at him. Instead, she seemed very interested in picking at a hangnail on her thumb.

James raised his eyebrows. “Help me? With swimming?”

“Swimming, the sea, all of it,” she chanced a glance up at him. She really did have the most staggering green eyes he’d ever seen. “I’m pretty good out there, and you clearly need help.”

James laughed. “That bad, am I?”

She grimaced. “Yes, that bad.”

He sighed and glanced back toward the sea. The sun had fully started to set now, and the pink and orange waves looked as menacing as ever. “I dunno… I’m not keen to repeat my near-drowning.”

“Oh, come on,” she winked at him, “a strapping lad like yourself should have no problem swimming in there.”

Strapping? She thought he was strapping?

James forced himself to focus. “The sun’s almost set. What if it gets too dark to see?”

“So?” She pushed herself to her feet, then offered his hand to pull him up. “You can’t see through the water anyway. What’s a little more unknown going to hurt?”

She helped pull him to his feet then began unbuttoning her shorts. James had the self-control to look away, though his hands shook just a bit as he removed his own t-shirt. Together, fully outfitted in their swimsuits, they marched toward the now-purple water.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go slow,” she murmured as they reached the shoreline, “I’ll hold your hand through the whole thing.”

James smirked, “Figuratively, of course.”

As if to spite him, she grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. With a jolt, James remembered that very hand on his chest not two hours ago, pulling him up and out of the same water they charged into now.

“The trick,” Lily said decisively as she stared out at the breaking waves, “is to choose the right moment. You have to wade in past the break line between waves. If you time it wrong, you get creamed. That was your problem last time.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem. Ready?”

“Actually,” James hastened, suddenly feeling sick. He wanted to drop her hand and run back, but he found that his skin felt glued to hers. “I think not. Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine being a coward for the rest of my life.”

“Not a chance!” She cried, gesturing out over the water, “Look how far you’ve come! You can’t go back now. I’m not going to let you drown.”

James tried to shoot her with a mischievous grin, but he knew it more closely resembled a grimace. “Promise?”

“Promise. Go!”

And so, Lily pulling at his hand, they sprinted out into the shallows together. The remains of the previous wave rushed merrily alongside their feet and legs as they sprinted into the water. James did not stop running until he could feel the water at his collar bones, his feet skimming the bottom of the seafloor. He felt around with his toes. No sharks or monsters as far as he could feel.

“See?” Lily laughed and splashed him a bit with water, “it’s not so bad. Jump!”

He turned to look just in time. A wave was coming at them fast. He barely had time to push off the ground to sail over it. The two of them soared through the water, over the wave, and back down again as it crashed onto the shore behind them. He laughed with glee and disbelief. His lungs felt icy cold as he gulped down air to keep himself from panicking. It felt like flying, and James suspected he’d been meant to fly all his life. This was easy. This was wonderful.

Suddenly, a wave larger than the rest descended upon them. “Alright, James,” came Lily’s confident voice as she squeezed his hand tighter, “we have to go under this one, alright?”

“What?” He just managed to yell before she pulled him under the wave. Again, there was that eerie stillness, only this time James wasn’t alone in the silence. Lily’s hand was still warm and sure in his own.

And so they flew through the water, dodging and riding and floating over the waves. It was exhausting work which was not made any easier by their fits of laughter every time the other received a faceful of icy water. Finally, when the sky had turned a deep navy, they dragged each other back out of the surf and onto the shore.

Brilliantly illuminated stars scattered across the night sky as they threw themselves back down on the beach. Lily reached into her large tote and produced a beach towel that they shared, taking turns to wipe the saltwater from their eyes and faces. They had barely talked the whole time they swam, just laughed, and gasped for air.

“See?” Lily sighed as she flopped back onto the beach towel, “I told you it’s lovely out there.”

“I stand corrected,” James said as he laid down next to her. He could see her chest and stomach rise and fall with the effort of breathing. “You were an excellent teacher. You’re not Lily of the valley, you’re Lily of the sea.”

She looked at him with a look that he’d come to learn meant she was about to make fun of him. “Have you been thinking of that line the whole time?”

“No!” James said with mock indignation, “No, it’s true. You made me see what all the fuss is about. Thank you.”

Lily grinned at him. She turned onto her side to face him, her head resting on her outstretched arm. He could see her freckles even in the dim light from the stars. He hardly stopped to think before he leaned in, his mouth inches from her own. He could feel her breath, still coming in sharp gasps, against his lips. “Do you think it would be alright if I kissed you?”

She smiled, and his whole body lit on fire. “I’m going to insist that you do, Potter.”

Her lips tasted like the sea. Her hair, when he took the back of her neck into his hand, was coarse and tangled from their swim. The shock of her warm hands on his cold, bare chest nearly caused him to cry out, and she smiled into him. God, she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

It was impossible to know how long they stayed entwined in one another. James had lost all sense of time and space. All he knew was Lily. He knew he could stay like this forever and be just fine.

Unfortunately, Remus had other plans.

“OI!” Came the shout from the darkness. Lily and James jumped apart in alarm. Remus stood a ways up the beach with his arms crossed. It was hard to tell in the dark, but James would bet anything that he was smirking. “You’re not snogging my best mate down there, are you?”

“No!” cried James and Lily in unison.

“That’s what I thought. I hate to break up the party, but James, we’ve got to move. Mum will flip if we get the car back late.”

James nodded. It was a horrible thought, leaving Lily, but he’d seen Remus’ sweet-tempered mum angry only once before. He didn’t wish to repeat the experience.

“I’ve got to run,” he whispered apologetically to Lily. He grabbed her hand in the darkness, and for a moment they could have been back in the water, soaring over waves together. “I’ve got a few more days in town, then back to school. Can I meet you here again tomorrow?”

Lily beamed at him. “That sounds lovely. Maybe at school I’ll even allow you to be seen with me.”

He laughed, then kissed her once more. Remus’ exaggerated cough told him that it was, really, now time to go. “Do you need a ride home?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got my bike. See you tomorrow, then.”

His chest felt like it was fit to burst. They could do this all again tomorrow.

“See you then, Lily of the sea.”

He turned before he could see her roll her eyes again and made his way up the beach toward Remus. He put his hands in his pockets and tried his hardest to stifle the grin that was permanently etched upon his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t so mental after all.

[calaofnoldor]

Winchester Welcome

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 3,878

Summary: Everyone’s ecstatic about the impending birth of your twins, but since when do these things ever go off without a hitch for the Winchesters?

Warnings: labor/birth/complications (but nothing too graphic), potential medical inaccuracies, slight angst, bit of language, dean being an awesome big bro? 

A/N: this is part 2 of ‘Dean, Don’t’ (though i think it can be read as a stand alone) which was very kindly requested by @carryonmywaywardbucky, so if you don’t like it, you can go take it up with her (jk!). also, i’m so sorry, i don’t know where all this angst/drama came from 😬

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST

Sam had one foot up on the bench seat and the other planted firmly on the floor of the Impala. He had managed to maneuver you between his legs, where he could offer comfort and support in whatever form you needed.

With one hand pressed against the side of your colossal baby bump, Sam could feel your stomach tense up each time a contraction came, and he always urged you to breathe through them. His face would be nuzzled within your hair, while his other hand kept itself busy rubbing along your neck, shoulders, arms, back, and hips. Indeed, the man had become remarkably handsy ever since you began to show and you unwittingly loved it, even now, in the throes of labor.

“Ugh, Sam!” You grabbed his wrist in a moment of frenzied pain.

“I’m here, baby! I got you, it’s OK.” Sam burrowed his nose into your neck in consolation, and you were beyond glad he had decided to join you in the backseat, despite the tight quarters.

As the blur of buildings and trees whizzed by, your contractions intensified in both strength and frequency. “This hurts more than that time I got shot,” you groaned miserably.

Sam laughed but continued to offer gentle susurrations in his low, soothing tone, lips grazing along the shell of your ear, whilst his doting, reverent fingers brushed the hair away from your face before travelling downwards to work their magic along the base of your spine.

Although Dean tried to grant the two (soon to be four) of you some privacy, he was still able to hear every whisper of love and encouragement Sam uttered your way. He knew that there was nearly nothing his brother hated more in this world than to see you in pain and figured Sam had been doing a pretty awesome job so far, considering. And you, of course - as proven countless times before - had the pain tolerance of an indie wrestler, and Dean had never been more aware of or impressed by the fact than right now.

On this, your boyfriend agreed wholeheartedly. “Breathe, baby. You’re doing so good,” he commended with pride as you huffed through yet another massive cramp, your hands laid protectively across your distended belly.

But something didn’t feel right. Your contractions were growing closer together at an alarming rate, though no one cared to vocalize it, and although you were tempted to pull your usual shit of swallowing your discomfort in silence, you reminded yourself that this time it was about more than just you.

“Ohhh,” you finally let yourself moan aloud, “Sam, I think you might have to check me.”

“Check you?” Dean asked from the driver’s seat; his voice was a little higher than usual.

“To see how far she’s dilated,” Sam replied for you. “Baby, I can’t do that unless Dean pulls over. Do you think we should stop the car? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you rasped, “There’s just a lot of pressure and it feels like there’s no break between the contractions anymore.” The string of words left you panting, and you leaned further back into Sam’s embrace.

“What’s the sitch, guys? We stopping the car or should I keep driving?” Dean questioned as he turned his classic rock down a little lower.

“Keep driving,” you confirmed weakly.

Dean complied but made a point to meet Sam’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. They shared a brief moment of wordless, brotherly communication, after which Sam nodded resolutely, his jaw set and eyes ablaze with a mixture of fear and rigid determination.

As the tension in the car mounted, however, the tension in your body seemed to fade. You felt awful for becoming so depleted this early into your labor. You hadn’t even given birth to one of the twins yet, and already you were feeling drained. How could you possibly carry on this way? But all these thoughts quickly disappeared when the weariness became too much.

“Y/N?” Sam looked down at you with furrowed brows. He could feel your body growing limp within his arms.

“Sammy, I don’t feel so good,” you whispered hoarsely. Dean would have thought this was a very normal thing to say during labor, but the change of tone in your voice alerted him to something more.

Sam too, was immediately alert. He scanned your form and noticed two terrifying things right away: first, there was blood on your pants and second, your eyelids seemed to be drooping involuntarily.

“Y/N? Baby, stay with me,” he pleaded as he gave your shoulders a light shake, “Come on, wake up Y/N!” But the darkness was beginning to take over, and you could no longer respond.

“Dean, she’s bleeding,” Sam spoke as an urgent aside, his heart pounding wildly inside his chest.

Dean could tell his brother was beginning to panic, just as he always did when your well-being was on the line, and he knew he needed to remain calm for Sam. “What? OK, just hold on, Y/N/N! We’re almost there.” Dean’s lead foot pushed even harder against the gas pedal.

Behind him, Sam held you tightly in his arms, filling your ears with delicate murmurs of reassurance, desperate for you to wake up. “Come on, baby. You promised me. Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be OK.” But even as he said this, he saw more blood seep through your pants. “Dean, drive faster!”

About to tell Sam that he was already going thirty over the speed limit, Dean made the wise decision to shut up and simply put the pedal to the metal, his face a mask of absolute focus.

It was only a matter of minutes, during which you drifted in and out of consciousness, before the Impala screeched to a halt in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. Dean scrambled out of the car at lightning speed and ran around to open the rear, passenger-side door for you.

Likewise, Sam wasted no time lifting you into his arms and bounding out of the car, practically sprinting towards the reception area. It was an impressive feat of strength, even for Sam, but Dean knew his little brother would have moved mountains for you and those babies if he needed to.

A nurse was there to greet Sam upon his frantic and rather rowdy entrance.

“Help! I need help! My wife’s in labor with our twins, and she passed out on the way here! Her water already broke a-and she’s bleeding!”

The two of you had created fake identities when you decided on a hospital birth, concerned about the chances of complications for delivering twins (and big ones at that), and Sam had never been more grateful for the foresight. He had suggested you go with the credentials of husband and wife to make things easier and ensure the hospital would give him all the privileges of a marital status. Fortunately, despite his hysterical state, Sam hadn’t even hesitated when he called you his wife; the word just seemed to roll off his tongue naturally.

Meanwhile, Dean glanced at his beloved car for a moment, its keys left haphazardly in the ignition. There was a slight grimace on his face as he faltered, considering whether he should go park his Baby in a more legal location or let her get towed and head directly to you and his brother. When he looked back towards the ER and saw your head lolling against Sam’s shoulder, he made his decision. Sam needed him, and Dean would be damned if he didn’t fulfill his lifelong job as the solid and unwavering base of support for his baby brother at this pivotal moment.

“We need a stretcher over here!” The nurse hollered out before turning back to Sam, “OK sir, can you tell me when your wife’s water broke?”

Sam blanched for an instant. He couldn’t focus on anything but your unconscious form. “Um… it was before we left, about, I don’t know-“

“About an hour ago,” Dean supplied as he strode up to his brother’s side. “And we noticed the bleeding around fifteen minutes ago.”

Sam nodded appreciatively, his eyes still wide and frenetic. A stretcher suddenly appeared next to him and he reluctantly laid you down on it, opting to grasp for your hand instead. Dean was busy informing the doctors of your situation, but Sam couldn’t hear any of it.

“OK, let’s go!” a male doctor called out. “Get an OR prepped just in case. Tell them we’ve got a female in active labor with twins, possible placental abruption.”

Trotting alongside your stretcher as the hospital staff pushed you down the hall, one of Sam’s large hands still held on firmly to yours while the other wiped the hair away from your face. “Baby, if you can hear me, please just stay strong, OK? Everything’s gonna be alright. I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

As if you had heard his prayers, your eyelids began to flutter open. Sam nearly collapsed with relief, but he willed his legs to continue pumping, his eyes never leaving your face. He waited as you tilted your head this way and that, trying to make out your new surroundings.

“S-Sam?” Your voice was still feeble, but Sam had never been happier to hear it.

“Oh, thank god! I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he choked out in a sob.

“Where are we?”

“The hospital. Dean got you here in record time. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He repeated. “Just stay awake for me, OK?”

You tried to nod, but you weren’t sure how well it translated since every muscle in your body felt utterly exhausted.

“She’s regained consciousness. Let’s bring her to the delivery room first.”

As soon as you were wheeled in, an oxygen mask materialized before you, and despite your weak protests was promptly attached to your face. Regardless, you barely got the chance to take a few deep breaths before the contractions began to pick up exactly where they left off.

Yet it seemed like an eternity until the urge to push finally and abruptly overcame your body. You gasped, mouth forming a wide “O”, as you felt your first baby descend swiftly through the birth canal.

“What? What is it?!” Sam inquired hurriedly in trepidation.

“She needs to push,” the doctor answered for you. “Alright Y/N, on your next contraction, I want you to put your chin to your chest and bear down for me as hard as you can, you understand?”

Your answer was a resounding growl as you squeezed your eyes shut and gave your first push of many.

Sam never left your side and he never let go of your hand. He could only marvel at your strength as he tried desperately to provide what little physical and moral support he could. He wanted so badly to kiss you but with the mask in the way, his lips could only settle upon your sweaty forehead.

It took hours, but eventually…

“The baby’s out; it’s a boy! Time of birth - 2:37am.”

Sam was granted only a second to rejoice, his iridescent eyes lighting up at the sight and sound of his firstborn entering the cruel world.

“The mother’s hemorrhaging!” a nurse bellowed and Sam instantly paled, his gaze returning at once to your fatigued figure on the bed.

“We need to get the second baby out now! Call the OR, tell them we’ve got an emergency C-section coming in,” the lead doctor commanded in reply.

Sam watched helplessly as the blood drained from your face and your eyes refused to open yet again. “No, no, no! Please, baby. Please don’t do this to me. Stay with me, Y/N. I need you. Our babies need you!” Sam pleaded for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Damn it!” he cursed as the tears began to fall. Sam rose to his full height, his hands balled into tight fists as he pumped them erratically through the air. His imposing form might have frightened some of the nurses if they hadn’t seen the look of horror and anguish that engulfed his features, or witnessed his unequivocal love and devotion to you throughout the labor and delivery process.

Sam forced himself to heave deep breathes as he observed the medical professionals bustling about your room, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Where’s my baby? At least tell me my baby is alright?” he demanded in a shaky tone to no one in particular.

“Your son is just fine, sir. They’ve taken him to the NICU to get checked up but from what I saw, he’s a big and healthy baby boy,” one of the nurses provided with a cautious smile.

“My son…” Sam breathed, looking back down at your unconscious form, “Our son… Did you hear that, baby? Oh, god!” He wanted to take you in his arms, to simply will the life back into you, but the doctors were swarming around your bed, poking and prodding at your still swollen abdomen.

“Sir, you need to back up and let the doctors do their job.”

Sam’s chest puffed up on instinct and he was about to retort when Dean, who had been watching in vain from afar, was suddenly there to hold him back. His hands gripped Sam’s biceps from behind and he pulled his brother back with all the strength he could muster, but Sam would not budge. Dean had no choice but to come around to Sam’s front and push against his inflated chest with both hands, while eyeing his little brother with a pointed look that told him to listen to the nurse, that there was nothing he could do right now to help you.

When Sam finally relented, he could no longer hold back his sobs. He had never felt so helpless, so useless. Dean managed to pull him into a waiting room before he broke down completely.

“Hey, you listen to me.” Dean’s ‘big brother voice’ was in full effect, “Your girl in there, is one hell of a fighter. We have seen her go through hell and back both with and for you, literally. And I know you’d do the same for her, Sammy. And so does she, alright? So I know for a fact that Y/N is gonna be fighting with everything she’s got to get back to you and your family. Just like she always does. I mean, hey, she’s practically a Winchester, right? And since when have we ever let death get the best of us?”

At his brother’s last point, Sam’s heart jolted in his chest. You really were practically a Winchester. And he’d loved the way it felt being able to call you his wife and being referred to as your husband in return.

The next hour passed at an agonizingly slow rate, with Sam and Dean fidgeting silently in their seats through most it.

“Mr. Windsor?” When the doctor got no response, he tried again, “Family of Y/N Windsor?”

At the sound of your name, Sam vaulted off his chair, realizing he’d nearly missed his calling. Hurtling towards the doctor, Sam almost miscalculated his braking distance. “I’m here! That’s me, I’m her husband!” he burst forth breathlessly.

“Well I’m here to tell you Y/N’s out of surgery. The C-section was a success, and she should be waking up shortly. Oh and congratulations, you have another son.”

“Wait, so she and the babies are OK?” Dean checked from his spot behind Sam.

“Yes, we have no reason to believe she or either of the babies are in any further danger.”

Sam released the largest breath known to mankind. “C-can I see her? Can I see them?”

The doctor sent him a smile and a nod before giving them your room number. Sam was off like a bullet with Dean hot behind his heels, but when they reached your door, the older Winchester elected to stay back a little, wanting to permit your new family some time alone first.

You were just coming to your senses when Sam walked in. Adjusting your bed to a seated position, you looked up to find him staring at you, “Sam?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he exhaled before falling to his knees at your bedside. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. Please don’t ever do that again.” Sam buried his head in your thigh, so you ran your fingers lovingly through his soft chestnut locks, allowing him a moment of reprieve.

When he raised his head to face you, his eyes were red and cheeks stained with tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean? Are the babies OK?”

“Yeah, they’re fine but the doctor said your complications were most likely the result of previous injuries and the fact that you were carrying big babies.”

You huffed a gentle sigh, “Baby, we both knew there was a higher risk associated with a multiple pregnancy. And of course my hunter background wouldn’t be any help. But how is any of that your fault?”

Sam didn’t respond with words; he merely fixed his watery puppy dog gaze upon yours, which just about caused you to break down with him, but you had promised yourself to always denounce this type of behavior. “Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? I never wanna hear you apologizing for things you can’t control. And I especially never wanna hear you apologize for any part of who you are, because I am so completely and irrevocably in love with that person that it hurts me just the same, do you understand?”

Sam nodded and you wiped the tears from his cheekbones, beckoning him to stand back up, though his head was still pointed down.

“Hey, I’m OK, alright?” You grabbed his hand, waiting until his shoulders visibly relaxed before adding impatiently, “Now when do I get to see my babies? Please tell me I can see them now.”

“Y-yeah, lemme go bring them over.”

You nodded enthusiastically, feeling a surge of energy flow back into your body at the thought of finally meeting your twins. So when Sam returned, wheeling two hospital cribs through the door, you were virtually bouncing with anticipation.

“You were right, baby.” Sam shot you a handsome little smirk.

“What?”

“We’ve got two boys.”

“Really?” You gasped, the emotions finally catching up with you after all the hardships you’d faced in the past twenty-four hours.

“What? No ‘I told you so’?” Sam teased lightly.

But you were much too in awe for that. “No, just… gimme,” you pouted, holding your arms out expectantly.

“You sure?”

“Sam, if you don’t hand me at least one of my babies right now, I swear to Chuck-“

“Alright, alright, no need to bring God into this,” Sam chuckled, sliding your firstborn carefully into your eager and waiting arms.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect.”

“Yeah? So is this little guy,” Sam had picked up the other infant and was beaming fondly down at him.

You spared a glance at them and giggled at the sight.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… he looks so small in your arms.”

Sam’s entire being exuded radiance, “So what are we gonna name them?”

It wasn’t long before you called for Dean and he strolled somewhat nervously into your room.

Cradling his eldest son in his arms, Sam sent his brother a warm and proud smile, “Dean, we’d like you to meet Robert John and…”

“Lucas Dean Winchester,” you finished, gesturing to the baby boy in your arms. “Well, Luke and Robbie for short.”

Dean’s emerald eyes grew wide and a little wet. He looked back and forth between you and Sam as if to confirm what he had heard was true.

You smiled at him, nodding. “You’ve always meant the world to Sam, and if I’m honest, you mean the world to me too. And I am beyond certain that these boys will grow to love you no less than either of us. Besides, none of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and you knew he needed to process his emotions.

“That’s awesome,” he said, though you knew he meant ‘thank you’.

“You wanna hold them?” Sam asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Dean grinned back, then looked toward you.

You held back a laugh, “You wanna start with your namesake, don’t you?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam shot him a mini bitch face, “Sorry, I-I mean, heck yeah!”

Snorting, you carefully handed Dean the bundle of blankets in which Lucas Dean was wrapped.

“There’s just one more thing I wanna say,” Sam’s voice brought your attention back to him.

You gave him a curious look and he seemed to almost blush under your gaze, which only confused you further.

“Y/N, I never thought I’d get to have all this, but you’ve made me so unbelievably happy, and I know it shouldn’t matter, but there’s been something ruminating in the back of my mind ever since we got to the hospital- no, actually ever since we made those fake IDs.”

Now you were really lost, eyeing him perplexedly. You looked over to Dean for some help, but he seemed not in the least bit surprised. In fact, he appeared to be perfectly content, paying zero attention to you and his brother and cooing happily at baby Luke as he bounced him in his arms.

“Baby,” Sam continued, “I know you’ve never really wanted or cared about this, and I know we can never make it a hundred percent official, but- Y/N, will you marry me?”

It was a good thing you were no longer holding any babies, because Sam’s question took you completely off guard.

“W-what?” you stammered, staring at him with large eyes.

Sam chuckled and looked down at Robbie, “I think your mom heard me just fine, don’t you, buddy?”

Your mouth stayed open for some time as you tried to absorb it all.

“Any time now, Y/N. Any time,” Dean interrupted without glancing up from Luke.

“Y-yes!” You finally replied.

“Really?” Sam asked again.

“Yeah! Obviously! I mean, who else would I marry but my incredible, brilliant, tall, and gorgeous baby daddy?”

At this point, Sam had passed Dean his oldest son, helping him balance both babies in his arms, before rushing back over to you. He took your face in both hands and kissed you like it was the first and last time. You leaned up to reach him and run your fingers through his shimmering tresses but you refrained from taking the kiss too far, figuring you’d save Dean the torture given all he had just done for your family.

“Well, alright! Two Winchesters coming in, and five going out. Nice work, Sammy!”

You released Sam and sent Dean a bitch face of your own.

“But- I mean, none of this would have been possible without you, Y/N/N,” he quickly amended, “I mean, who could forget that you nearly died bringing these two to the world? What’s that, the third time you’ve cheated Death now? That alone is enough to make you an official Winchester in my books.”

“Well, technically we’re all Windsors in this hospital.”

A/N #2: thank you for reading! ...i’m thinking of turning this into a series of sorts, like a collection of stories about sam and reader’s lives after the twins (because i’ve got iDeAs brewing), would anyone be interested? ❤️ also, here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com:

tagging some peeps who seemed to enjoy part 1 :) @carryonmywaywardbucky @girl-next-door-writes​ @sams-sass​ @swiftlymoniquesblog @austin-winchester67 @idreamofhazel @hoboal87 

[sugako]

sweetness

osamu xf!baker!reader sum: your unrequited crush on the man you sell to is weighing heavily on you until one little party later it isn’t an issue cw: 18+ minors dni, a lil fluff, a lil angst (reader is sad bc they don't think samu feels the same), mentions of drinking/alcohol/party (no one is drunk during), kinda confessions, first time with each other, nipple play, oral (receiving) wc: 3.5k a/n: hi !! uhh i have had this is drafts for months bc i struggled to post it and idk why,, it's def a little longer than usual and little more plot-heavy(ish) but i hope you all enjoy pussy king samu <3

It felt as though you were admiring him from a distance even when he was standing right beside you.

The afternoon that the owner of Onigiri Miya had called up your small bakery to partner with his business you had been overjoyed. Honestly, you were still happy, it was just tinged by something deeper or different now. You were certainly still happy to sell your goods through the business, but your feelings had really gotten the better of you.

The day, actually the moment you met Osamu you told yourself to get over the petty crush you had developed within minutes of meeting him. His big, tall frame made you feel as though he could wrap his arms around you and everything would be okay. His pretty, steely eyes and soft features relaxed you, made you feel at home.

A week later you were groaning into your pillow when he texted a simple, polite compliment about your baked goods. Desperately, you hoped that the fuzzy feeling would melt away any day now.

Every single time you had to see him again and again to drop off your bi-weekly delivery, the feelings didn’t fade. If anything they grew stronger. The quick, comfortable banter you shared made your chest fill with molten gold that always seemed to harden into a tough little peach pit, strangling the words from your throat whenever you got back into your car.

A month later you were crying to yourself at 2 AM about how you couldn’t get over him even though you hadn’t even been close to a relationship. It was impossible. How were you supposed to get closure from someone you were merely business partners with.

You cursed the way your heart sped up when you got a new text from him. Over and over again you had to remind yourself that it was purely business.

Onigiri Miya (Osamu): Hi, do you want to swing by tomorrow? Lunch is on me

Fingers swiped over the keyboard, groaning as you asked what you should bring for the restock, not realizing it had been two weeks already.

Onigiri Miya (Osamu): Everything is selling fast, but I won’t need anything for a bit, just wanted to chat not about business

Without hesitation you agreed. Even if you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it wouldn’t hurt to keep up a personal relationship with a business. The fact that he had texted you deep into the night without prompt didn’t make it into your busy mind.

Those two little texts were how you found yourself taking a deep breath outside the Onigiri Miya a little after the lunch rush. You stepped into the nearly empty building, immediately greeted by Osamu’s soft, low voice.

“I have to run to the back, but I put a plate for you out.” He calls, disappearing just as the door closes behind you.

It’s painful to admit how your heart swells at the gesture. Your favorite onigiri of his is neatly plated in front of a corner seat at the bar. The two other people on the opposite side of the store are quietly chatting, paying no mind while you settle into your seat. Before you can take a bite he’s bustling back in.

“Sorry ‘bout that, got a call.” He says, leaning over the counter in front of you. The way his broad chest is squished by his shoulders.

“No worries.” You say just before biting into the food. He snatches one of the rice balls from your plate, but your mouth is too full and you’re too grateful to protest. “So,” you begin after you swallow, “what did you want to talk about?”

You can’t tell whether the air is thick with awkward tension or if it’s just you.

“I mean, obviously not business.” As you speak, a strangled, little chuckled forces its way out of the back of your throat, but you take another bite of food before it gets out of hand.

He’s silent for a moment, slowly chewing his food. Maybe savoring it or maybe thinking, you can’t quite tell which.

“Can you take nights off from the bakery? I remember you saying ya do a lot of baking and prepping at night.” His expression is impossible to read and you want to tell him that this is, at least for you, business talk, but you hold back and simply answer the question.

“Well, yeah, if I needed to. Uh, why?” You catch how his shoulders tense and lower, his eyes shifting across the windows in the front. Unfortunately, his own anxiety does very little to quell any of your own.

“My brother is having a party and I’m… obligated to go, but I won’t know many people there, they’ll all be his teammates, so I was wondering if you would like to go with me? If you don’t have a… I mean, if you don’t have any plans.” His expression remains still, but there’s a small flush in his cheeks that you catch on immediately. Something in your heart softens with hope.

“You’re twin volleyball brother?” You ask, biting back a smile. “Also, you’ll have to tell me what time the party is and then I’ll let you know if I have plans, but I’m probably free.”

The flush deepens as he recognizes his mistake and slowly blinks, shaking his head. “Yes, ‘Tsumu, the volleyball brother. And the party is next Friday. Around nine.”

Within the limited time you’d spent with him he’d told you about his brother and his old friends. Confidence growing, but not quite steady, you uneasily treaded into your next words.

“Yeah, I’m not working next Friday actually, so that sounds good. Should I text you for the address or…?”

“Meet me here, I can take you. Best to take the train, but it’ll be easier if we go together.”

Deep in the center of the city, standing close enough to smell the soft fragrance of cologne, you still weren’t sure how easily you had ended up here at the house party filled with strangers hosted by your customer’s pro athlete brother. It was a little much to think about if you took too much pause. Before you could slip into your own brain too much your cheek smushed into the thick muscle of Osamu’s solid back that had suddenly stopped moving, and as you sputtered out an apology the door swung open without him even knocking.

“Hey! Did you really not a-” The blonde mirror image of the man standing directly in front of you eats whatever words are about to spill out of his mouth when he notices you peeking out from beside Osamu. Realizing how ridiculously childish you must look tucked away behind him, you clear your throat and step out so you’re by his side instead.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say politely, extending a hand for him to shake. Atsumu’s eyes flit between you and his brother, not bothering to hide a smirk.

“Oh, I know.” He finally says when he takes your hand. Out of sheer embarrassment or maybe anxiety, you feel pricks of heat chase out to your fingertips. The sensation is only compounded by Osamu’s feather-light touch that grazes the small of your back as he tries to lead you past his brother.

“Really,” you start, with a sly little smile, “he’s told me about you’re very impressive-”

“Okay.” Osamu says a little too sharply. He’s glad you’re at ease, but less glad that you’ve immediately taken to lightly teasing him with his brother. “Let’s head in.” The warm breath of his whisper jolts through you and you find yourself nodding, letting his touch lead you.

Just as the door is closing behind you and the excruciating reverb of the music seeps into your ears, you barely catch what Atsumu mumbles before he slips into the crowd of people. “Maybe you’ll finally show her how much ya like her.”

Osamu doesn’t respond, and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear him, but the way his fingers dig into your back tells you otherwise. You simply pretend that you heard nothing, pointing to the drink dispensers lined up on the kitchen counter across the room. After a quick drink of the sweet, burning mystery drink and after Atsumu started to keep his distance - too busy hounding his one teammate with the dark curls whose name you couldn’t quite remember - things went smoothly.

Time passed quickly, helped on by the dozens of new people you were introduced to. The small talk and repetitive questions had you mentally winded, but Osamu’s constant touch whether on your elbow or back or shoulder grounded you. Instead of feeling your heart race as it usually did when he was near, you only felt calm.

It all came crashing down sometime deep into the night when most of the guests had headed home and those left over passed out, scattered everywhere about the house. Well, everywhere aside from the neat guest bedroom tucked away toward the back that Osamu had pulled you back to when the last man (who had drunkenly tried teaching you how to say ‘volleyball’ in Portuguese) had finally passed out.

The single drink you had gulped down hours ago was long gone from your system, but even without it you still found it easy to speak with him, even as his arms inconspicuously wrapped around your torso and brought you down to lie beside him on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling for a moment while the two of you remained in short silence, a thought came to your head, another thing you want to tell him or ask him. You’re not sure which because in the next moment, when you whip your head to face him, he does the same.

If you had been any closer your faces would’ve smashed together. Any farther away and you wouldn’t be brushing lips. Just as soon as the touch begins, it ends with you scrambling away, stopped from falling off the bed by his strong arm wrapping around and pulling you back to his chest. The silence thickens with every second that neither of you speak, but he thankfully breaks it within the minute.

The words fumble around the front of your mouth like your mouth is numb. “I’m so sorry that-!”

“Well, that wasn’t really a proper kiss.” He says plainly, a smile barely etching its way onto the corner of his lips.

“N-no, it was not.” You whisper. It doesn’t quite feel real when he kisses you for real, and for a second you’re worried you’ve deluded yourself. You sigh into his firm touch, finally releasing the tension in your chest and letting your own lightly trembling hands trace up the space between your chests to settle against his. His body is softer than you had thought it would feel, somehow so much more comforting and homey than you could have imagined.

After an endless moment, his mouth strains against yours as he forces himself to pull away with a little huff. Your eyes find his, bright and hopeful, and still a little bit surprised. Between all your personal longing and resignation that he didn’t feel the same, you hadn’t noticed the way he smiled more when you were nearby, the little blush that dusted his cheeks when you complimented his cooking that first time, and so much more.

“Wanted to do that for a long time.” He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and letting his heavy eyes close. Hiding your grin in his chest, you nod, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling in closer. When your knee glides against his thigh in an attempt to get more comfortable and flush to him, he clears his throat. “We should get changed if we’re going to sleep here. I have extra clothes in the dresser.”

“Okay.” You nod slightly, not wanting to move just yet. He seems to be with you because, despite his own words, he remains exactly in place with his grip just as tight as ever around your waist. “...Samu?” You finally ask, pulling back far enough to look up at him.

“I wanna kiss you again.”

“Okay,” you repeat, “then kiss me again.” The crooked, giddy smile you’re giving him seems to tense him up even more.

He inhales deeply through his nose, eyes darkening as they flicker across the planes of your face. “I wanna, but I don’t want to push this unless you feel the same.”

If your tired heart could vibrate any harder it would probably be bursting out of your chest.

“Well, I feel that we should kiss again,” you press a peck to his cheek hoping it’ll steady your next vulnerable words, “because I’ve thought about you a lot, and I really like this.” You emphasize your words by glancing down at the negative space between your bodies and running your hand up the built expanse of his shoulders.

Humming, he cradles the back of your head, gracefully moving to straddle you and ghost his lips over yours. “In that case, tell me when to stop.” The hot breathy fan of air from his whisper barely hits your cheeks before he’s pressing a deep kiss against your lips.

You slot together like perfect puzzle pieces, limbs finding the just the right spots to fit into. Mouths move desperately, passionately and without thinking your fingers start dancing under the hem of his shirt, brushing against the hot skin beneath. With a tempered groan, he uncouples his lips from yours, kissing along your jaw and quickly moving to trace down your neck. The kitten nips and licks against your collarbone send electricity through your bones, forcing you to flex into him, hips awkwardly jutting forward for something more.

“You… you, ah, are so perfect.” You pant, eyes blinking wide open when the calloused tips of his fingers roughly trail under your shirt, up your sides, stopping just short of your chest to flip your shirt up.

Groaning so quietly you barely hear him, he buries himself between your breasts and sighs against your skin. “Yer even more beautiful up close and without all this,” he pauses for the briefest moment to undo your bra and lift it over your head with the shirt, “extra stuff on.”

Scoffing out a short giggle, you relax back, watching how his eyes drink you in as though they’ve been starved. “By extra stuff you mea-!” The quip is promptly cut off by the feeling of his mouth latching around one breast, the other being tended to by his opposite hand. Not a moment later he pulls away, smiling as you let out a pitchy whine.

“Yer pretty mouthy when yer comfortable, huh?” He mumbles, lips ghosting over your nipple while the one in his hand continues to be teased.

“N-no,” you rush to disagree. Judging by the eye roll he gives you, he doesn’t seem to believe you, but he doesn’t say anything more, simply bringing his attention back to your chest.

The way his suckles tiny, bright purple marks into your skin sends heat pooling into your stomach, hips noticeably grinding up against him now. As the seconds drag on, he doesn’t seem interested in anything other than your tits, enamored with the way they feel in his hand and mouth. It’s almost too much, and you feel your stomach tightening with every moment the teasing continues.

“Samu,” you whine softly, “samu, please, can’t s’too much, really need…” The words are jumbled and garbled. You can’t quite sort your brain to come up with anything coherent, distracted by the wet pooling in your underwear and the weight of his body crowding over yours.

“Sensitive tits?” He coos with a sharp glint in his eyes, gears obviously moving in his head for the future. “That’s okay,” he continues while pressing a soft kiss to each of your breasts, “What do you really need?”

“Need you to touch me.”

For a second, his mouth opens but he doesn’t speak. You fear he’s going to tease you, make you explain in lewd detail how bad you need him and where you want him to touch you, but he doesn’t. He simply nods, truthfully too caught up in the intoxicating feeling of your body and too impatient to feel you for the first time to drag this out.

“Good girl, I’m gonna take these off.” He starts, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear to take them off together. Without hesitation, his eyes travel between your legs. “Such a pretty, little cunt.” He hums already squeezing in between your thighs. Obviously distracted, he peppers little kissed up the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, still caught up staring at your soaking mess.

“Samu, please…” You whine. While you know he isn’t purposefully teasing, well you don’t know but you don’t think at least, it’s just as frustrating. Your knees lock around his thick shoulders, pulling him closer to your heat.

“Okay, okay, pretty girl.” He grumbles, lapping right at the crook of your thigh and hip. There’s a split second of tense silence wherein he carefully spread your lips admiring the glisten of your slick under the dim light of the lamp. Your entire body is tense with anticipation, legs shaking as they struggled to spread around his wide frame.

And just like that quiet moment is over - he laps you up so desperately and greedily you’re twitching under his grasp, clawing at the wrinkled bed sheets below you for anything to ground you. He doesn’t stop when he shifts your legs over his shoulders and wraps his hands around the bottom of your tummy to keep your jostling hips in place.

When you finally look back down to grab his hand, keeping a vice grip around his fingers, you also glance down for the first time. His dark, hazy eyes meet yours and you completely relax at last.

The feeling doesn’t last long, not when he pushes his tongue into your tight, unprepared hole, slurping all he can get and pushing in as far as he can go. Osamu’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sensation, your cum dribbling down his chin and coating up to his nose that keeps brushing against your throbbing clit.

With a solid, squelching pop he tears away from you. “Taste so good,” he heaves, lips coming back even as he’s speaking, ghosting over you. He buries himself in your cunt again, this time focusing solely on your clit, cycling through different motions until he finds the one that makes your hips strain under his sturdy hold.

“Feel so good!” You sigh. “Please, please wanna cum.”

Smirking against you, he takes the hand you’re not clinging to back under your thigh and props it against your ass, slowly teasing a finger in. Absolutely gushing now, it slips in easily. You can feel his smile grow again for a moment before he refocuses on your clit, motions speeding up and increasing the pressure with which he worked. It’s impossible to not shudder under him now, especially with one arm only holding you down.

“C’mon, pretty girl, cum.” He murmurs, easily hooking a second finger into you, pumping and curling them in time with his tongue. As he feels you flutter and cream he can’t help but rut into the mattress, cock swelling from the taste of you. The pressure inside is too much and your want to let go is pushing you closer and closer, although it’s his mouth and fingers that really push you forward.

“C-cu-!” The words get trapped in your throat, overtaken by a hushed moan you struggle to bite back, trying - but very much failing - to be mindful of all the half-sleeping people strewn through the house. He slowly brings you down, fingers winding down and tongue lapping up your swollen clit while you convulse at his touch in time with the fluttering of your cunt.

At last, you have to drag him off, needily tugging up on his hands until he lets go. You try to pull him in to kiss, but he hesitates, his strength far outweighing your weak, blissful one and he hovers above you. There’s no reason to ask because almost immediately his fingers that were inside of you, absolutely drenched, come up to his mouth so he can make a show of sucking them dry for you.

“Taste even better than the stuff you make.” He sighs, letting you drag him down to your face. You can smell and taste yourself so strongly on his damp lips, it clouds your already hazy senses.

“Hmm,” you manage out, when he rests his entire body weight against yours, lips pressed into the side of your head. It’s only when you go to shift that you feel him pressing so incredibly hard and flush to you exposed skin through his soft pants, that you perk up. “Samu,” you begin brushing your fingers through his soft, dark hair, “can I...wanna help you.”

“Mhmm,” he nestles against your neck, kissing over the spots he left behind earlier, “in a minute, pretty girl, we have a lot of time ahead of us.”

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (1)

(Hey guys! I finally got around to posting the first chapter of this! I hope you guys enjoy it, and please tell me if you’d liked to be tagged or want to read more! there’s also a mini-series of Journal Entries connected to this fic.)

Ch.2

Chapter 1: Happy Accidents

Rosemary Highschool, a private school for the truly gifted and the rich. Anyone who attended this facility was either poised and reserved, or uptight, or all of the above. Therefore, when a stuttering, stumbling raven-haired girl came tripping through their doors, it was only natural that the students became curious.

Felix couldn’t care less, if he was being honest. The girl was just another student, and he had better things to do than waste his time meddling in the personal life of a complete stranger. 

His friends, however, did not share his sentiment. 

“Did you hear?” Allegra asked as they walked to their lockers, her sky blue eyes wide with delight. She leaned forward slightly to catch a better view of their expressions, causing her golden braid to fall gracefully over her left shoulder. 

“About the new student? Who didn’t?” Claude replied, wearing his usual grin. 

“How do you think she got in?” Allan wondered aloud, fixing the green cap on his head in thought.

Felix rolled his eyes. His friends had always loved picking up on the latest gossip. He never understood why. Take this new student, for example. She hasn’t even finished enrolling in the school yet, but everyone’s already chattering relentlessly about her. Why? Because she was rumored to be clumsy? That was hardly an achievement, let alone something to be talked about by the entire school. So what was all the fuss about?

Allegra gasped, a smile lighting up her soft features. “Oh! We should show her around! This school is huge, so she’ll definitely need a guide. Plus, we can get the first scoop on her.”

“Absolutely not.” Felix finally cut in, giving her a sharp look. He refused to galivant around the school with a complete stranger while his classmates tried to pry into the poor girl’s personal life. 

���We didn’t say you had to go.” Claude pointed out.

“But you should at least say hi.” Allegra hastily added, a motherly tone coming to her voice.

Felix scoffed. Right. He would say ‘hi’, then they would ‘convince’ him to stay- i.e. drag him by the collar -and he would end up going around the school with them anyway. He’d gotten used to their tricks by now.

Allan frowned in disapproval. “Come on, Fe. It’s the polite thing to do. We are her new classmates, after all.”

“Yeah, Fe, don’t be a jerk.”

“When am I ever not a jerk.” Felix retorted.

Claude smirked. “He’s got a point.”

“Felix.” Allegra pressed, fixing him with a stern glare and putting her hands on her hips.

Felix groaned, irritation prickling up to the forefront of his mind. What did it matter if he saw the new student? He wouldn’t be talking with her often, and they would probably meet later on during classes anyway. Why did they have to be so pushy?

He reached up to rub his temples and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t see them, it helped him imagine that they weren’t annoying him to the point of insanity. 

“Alright, fine, but if any of you-”

Felix barely registered the hit. He heard his friends gasp, and the sound of his books and pencils scattering across the floor, and he felt the dull pain of someone smacking into him before he unexpectedly hit the ground.

Then his ears tuned into a light, yet panicked voice.

“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I just did that- are you hurt? Do I need to call the nurse?”

Someone was talking to him. Well, they were more of rambling, really. 

“Pardon?” He said, interrupting the person’s ramble as he rubbed his back. He glanced up to see a young girl kneeling on the ground in front of him. She was scrambling around on the floor- gathering up his books, he realized -and appeared to be even more disoriented than he was.

His question spooked her, apparently, because she jumped, and her eyes darted upwards. They were an overwhelming blue, bright and sparkling despite being filled with anxiety at the moment. 

“I-I’m sorry!” She repeated, briefly setting the books down so she could nervously pull on the tips of her raven-colored pigtails.

Felix’s eyes widened. 

Raven.

Claude stifled a laugh behind him. 

“It’s not a problem.” Felix sighed, swiftly taking his books back from her and moving to retrieve the others. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. 

The ravenette furrowed her eyebrows, now bringing her hands down to play with the zipper of her black, half-sleeved jacket. “A-are you sure?”

He gave a short nod, scooping the rest of his books into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I ran into you. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry.” His tone was composed, calm, if only for the sake of dignity. Claude and Allegra were never going to let him live this down.

He picked up her small handbag, holding it out to her. “So, I apologize. I’ll be more careful next time, and I am willing to replace anything of yours that is broken.” 

A wash of color came to her cheeks.

“Oh, That- that won’t be necessary, thank you.” She insured, taking the purse and clutching it to her chest.

Felix didn’t reply, instead using the brief pause to look her over. With her light pink capris and child-like pigtails, she didn’t exactly give off the impression of being rich or poised. Perhaps a relative bought her tuition? That’s happened before. 

“Aw, look! Felix made a friend!” Claude’s snide remark broke Felix from his thoughts, and he shot the brunette a glare. That clown can never keep his mouth shut.

Allegra pushed past the two and extended a hand to the girl just as they got to their feet. “Hi! I’m Allegra. What’s your name?”

The girl smiled- which Felix found surprisingly pleasant -and took her hand. “Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Like the doll?” Allan asked curiously, stepping forward as well.

“Sort of, yes.” 

“That’s pretty cool. I’m Allan, by the way.” He introduced himself, also shaking her hand. He then pointed behind him, towards Claude and Felix. “The one in the blue striped shirt is Claude, and the stiff board you just ran into is Felix.”

Felix hunched his shoulders slightly, a scowl tugging at the corner of his lips, but Marinette only laughed. It oddly reminded him of the sound of tinkling bells. 

“You’re new here, right?” Allegra asked before Felix could snark off to Allan. “Mind if we show you around?”

A sigh of relief tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “Please do. This place is like a maze!”

Claude chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll make your head spin. We-”

“-Can start with the cafeteria.” Felix interrupted. The sooner they could start the tour, the sooner he could go home. “Then we’ll work our way around the classrooms.”

He spun on his heel, ignoring his friends’ smug smiles, and marched off. It wouldn’t take long for them to follow.

Allan was the first to catch up, throwing Felix a sly smirk as he whispered, “I thought you said you weren’t going to show her around.”

Felix shrugged. If he was going to suffer through the embarrassment of running into somebody, he might as well get something out of it. He would take her on a quick tour, and perhaps his friends wouldn’t feel the need to meddle in his social life for at least another month.

“We’re her new classmates, right?” He said. “We should exercise basic politeness and guide her through the school.”

Allan hummed. “Sounds like good advice. I wonder who could’ve told you that.”

“The name escapes me.” Felix replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He stole a glance over his shoulder to the rest of the group. Marinette was talking cheerfully with Allegra now, her previous show of anxiety all but gone. She even looked a bit confident with the tripping matter settled. Isn’t that strange?

“...What else do you know about her?”

~~~~~~

When Maman suggested that Marinette start attending Rosemary Highschool, reluctance couldn’t begin to express how she’d felt. She’d heard the rumors, how the kids were spoiled, snobby brats, how the classes were just a room full of fancy trinkets to keep the kids satisfied for a while. Marinette honestly didn’t want any part of it, but at that point, any school was better than her old school. She simply couldn’t stand Lila’s schemes anymore, nor Adrien’s relentless pursuit of having them get along. As bad as Chloe’s bullying was, Marinette almost wished that she could go back to that time. At least then she’d still have friends. (Well, calling her old classmates “friends” would be over exaggerating now. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with getting bullied from everyone at school.)

Either way, Marinette chose Rosemary over Dupont in a heartbeat, despite her uneasiness, and found that it actually wasn’t all bad. The endless halls were a bit confusing, but the classes were more advanced than others had let on, and though a select few of the students could be considered snobbish, everyone else seemed quite nice. A small group even offered to show her around. (After she ran into their friend, that is. Only Marinette could make such an embarrassing introduction.)

“I think that covers everything.” The girl of the group, Allegra, said. “But in case you’re still confused, I have a map for you.”

“A map?” Marinette echoed. She didn’t think they presented those at the school, though they probably should.

Allegra nodded and pulled a folded piece of paper from her school bag. “Claude gets lost all the time. So I started making maps for him. I have multiple maps because- typical Claude -he loses the maps too.”

“How was I supposed to know that it got mixed in with my history homework?” Claude, obviously the jokester amongst them, defended with a flail of his arms.

“If you ever need help,” Allegra continued, ignoring Claude’s comment as she scribbled something on the map, “feel free to text me.” 

“Thank you so much.” Marinette smiled, peeking at the phone number that was now on the corner of the page.

“It’s the least we can do.” Allan, probably the most relaxed of the group, replied. 

“It’s not as complicated as it looks. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it within a week.” Ah, yes. Then there was Felix, the poor boy she’d run into earlier. He’d been extremely mature about the matter, even insisting that it was his fault and that he’d pay for any of her damaged belongings. Naturally, she refused the offer, but it was a thoughtful gesture nonetheless. 

“If not, you know where to find us.” Claude added, before scooping her hand into his and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “But I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to you finding me for non-school related purposes as well.” 

Allegra rolled her eyes with a sigh, and Allan pinched the bridge of his nose. Felix just scoffed, especially when Claude winked at the end. 

Jokester and flirt of the group. Marinette thought with a smirk. In one quick motion, she slipped her hand out of Claude’s grasp and pushed him away by the tip of his nose. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, flashing him a wry smile.

Claude stumbled back a step, clearly shocked by her reaction. Allan straight up laughed next to him, and Marinette, to her delight, caught a glimpse of Felix smirking.

“Oh, I like you.” Allegra snickered, slinging her arm over Marinette’s shoulders.

“So do I.” Claude grinned. 

Allan, once his laughs died down, stepped forward. “Do you mind if I give you my number too? I can’t imagine not hanging out with you now.”

Marinette blushed from the compliment, but nodded and handed him the paper. Claude eagerly jumped at the opportunity and wrote down his number too. Then the boys turned to Felix.

“What about you, Fe? Are you giving her your number now or are you gonna beg for it later?” Claude asked, his grin turning devilish.

Felix shot him a glare- which he apparently did quite often. “I don’t beg.”

Allegra- ever the patient friend -let out a huff and shoved the paper into his hands. “For Pete’s sake, Felix, just write your number on the dang paper.”

“O-Only if you want to.” Marinette interjected. She didn’t want to cause a fight amongst them on her first day.

Felix’s glare faded slightly at her input, and he sighed. 

“It’s fine. You would probably need it eventually, anyway.” He relented, plucking a pen out of his left vest pocket and jotting down his number on the paper too. Marinette smiled despite herself as she took the paper back. It was only her first day, but she’s already made four, lovely friends. She liked to think of that as a good sign.

“Have you gotten your class schedule, yet?” Allegra queried now that the phone number matter was settled.

Marinette shook her head. “I was actually trying to find it when I bumped into you guys.”

Claude snorted. “‘Bumped into’. Good one.”

Marinette giggled along with Allegra and Allan. She hadn’t meant it that way, but the irony was a bit humorous. 

“Let us walk you to the office.” Allan requested. “The school tends to overcomplicate things, class schedules included.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hold you guys up.”

Allegra waved her hand dismissively. “Classes are over for the day, and our drivers are paid to wait for us.”

Marinette furrowed her brows slightly. “Your drivers?"

“You know, the people who drive us to and from school and anywhere else we want to go.” Claude helpfully supplied.

So, like Gorilla. Marinette thought. It made sense. This was a school of kids who had fortunes of the same extent, if not greater than, the Agreste’s fortunes. If Adrien had a driver, then the students here would certainly have one too.

“You don’t have a driver, do you?” Allegra guessed.

Marinette glanced up at the blonde, a strange mix of surprised and embarrassed. Was it that obvious? Would it be weird in this school if she didn’t have a driver?

“Please don’t take that the wrong way.” Allegra rushed to add, noticing Marinette’s sheepish expression. “I’m just curious. We don’t get many students here who aren’t drowning in their own money.”

“That makes sense.” Marinette replied. The tuition for this school had been unbelievably high. “But no, I don’t have a driver. My family was granted an early scholarship for me to come here.”

Surprise flashed across the group’s faces, including Felix’s. 

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Claude muttered. 

Marinette shrank back slightly. “I-I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Allan cut her off. “We’re just impressed.”

“Getting a scholarship here isn’t easy.” Allegra explained. 

“I-It’s only in the fashion section.” Marinette admitted, fiddling with the ends of her bookbag.

Claude gasped, a sparkle coming to his chestnut eyes. "You're a fashion designer?!"

“Uh oh.” Allan smirked.

Allegra shot her an apologetic look. “I’d say that there’s an escape to this, but I don’t want to lie straight to your face on our first day of knowing each other.”

Marinette held back a smile. Did that mean she would lie to her face when they knew each other better?

“How many outfits have you designed? Can you sow outfits too? I’ve had a few ideas, but none of the other art students listen to me-” Comments and questions started spilling out of Claude left and right. Things about smeared pencil drawings, pricked fingers, and his strange obsession with ruffled, prince-like sleeves seemed to explode out of his mouth all at once. Marinette knew her rambles could fall on the fast side, but this was a whole other level. 

“I’d have to look through my notebook, but I think the ruffles are doable.” Marinette managed to say when Claude paused to take a breath.

“Really?!” He exclaimed, going so far as to clasp his hands together with a grin.

She nodded, smiling herself. “I’m not sure how princely sleeves would fair on modern sleeves, though. They’d look much nicer on a full prince costume.”

Claude’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You would design a full suit for me?”

“I can’t promise that the fabric will be of good quality when I sow it, but yeah.” 

Claude threw his fists in the air in celebration, and Allegra took the opportunity to lightly pull Marinette aside.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” She whispered. “Claude’s not going to be too disappointed if you decide to change your mind.”

Marinette’s smile softened. “Thanks, but I really don’t mind. I needed a new project to work on, anyway.” 

Allegra studied her for a moment, then smiled as well. “Well, if you’re sure. He’s going to send you cars full of fabric though.”

She laughed. “Guess I’ll tell Maman to start clearing out the guest room.”

~~~~~~

Felix stared at his book, rubbing the corner of the page between his thumb and index finger. His phone buzzed relentlessly beside him on the arm of his recliner, no doubt the group chat that he'd been roped into. It was chaotic enough when it was just Allegra, Allan, and Claude, but now that they've added Marinette to the group, Felix wondered if his phone would ever be silent again.

He supposed he should have known better than to assume they would show Marinette around the school and be done with her. Allegra, Allan, and Claude were always overly friendly. However, he also couldn’t say that he minded having her around either. At least, not for the time being. She was considerate enough not to push his buttons and lively enough to keep the others occupied. No more on-the-spot activities from Allegra and Claude to cure their boredom.

"They're chatty today." Bridgette, his mother, commented from the loveseat couch to his right.

Felix hummed in agreement. "A new student arrived at the school today."

"Is that what they're talking about?"

He shook his head. "It's who they're talking to. The leeches have already adopted her."

Bridgette chuckled. “You mean Allegra, Allan, and Claude?” 

“Who else insists on sticking to me like glue?” 

She tilted her head in a “True” gesture. “Who’s the new student?”

“Her name’s Marinette.” Felix answered, flipping the page of his book.

“Oh, that’s a unique name.” Bridgette replied thoughtfully.

Felix hummed in agreement. “She said it was supposed to be similar to the doll ‘Marionette’.” 

“You talked to her?” Bridgette asked, surprise lacing her tone.

Felix resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew she didn’t mean to sound patronizing, but sometimes her questions irked him. For example, why wouldn’t he talk to the new student if Allegra and the others were? Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy human interaction, there was still such a thing as common courtesy.

..Which he supposed he didn’t usually have either.

Okay, maybe her question was more reasonable than he originally thought.

“Yes, I actually ran into her while we were walking down the hall.” He finally said.

Bridgette tried- and failed -to hide her laugh. “You ran into someone? That’s not like you, Felix.”

Felix sighed, slipping a bookmark into his book so he could close it. “I’m aware. I was trying to ignore Allegra’s prodding when it happened.”

“I see. What did Marinette say?”

“She actually started apologizing.” Felix admitted. “Even though it was my fault, she picked up my books before tending to her own things and asked if I was alright.”

Bridgette smiled. “She sounds delightful.”

He nodded without thinking. “Allegra even invited her to our routine luncheon tomorrow.”

Felix missed the twinkle in his mother’s eyes as she said, “Wow, to your personal lunch? They must really enjoy her company. You’ll have to invite her over here sometime.”

“I’m sure Allegra will arrange it eventually.” Felix replied dismissively.

“Then I shall have to thank her when she does.” Bridgette remarked, standing up from the couch. Her fingers ruffled through his hair as she passed him. “I’m glad you had a good day at school, sweetheart.”

Felix almost objected, since he hadn’t necessarily claimed to have had a good day at school, but decided against it. There was no point in arguing, especially when his day had, in fact, been satisfactory. He’d met someone new, someone that intrigued him. (A rarity, indeed, but it was true.) In the short time they talked, Marinette had shown herself to be both kind and anxious, but also witty and confident. It was an interesting mixture that stuck out to him. What type of life must one live to create such a paradox of a personality?

Unfortunately, Allan and the others knew about as little as he did when it came to her. She was a new student that had a passion for fashion and a bright smile. That was all. This was why he’d elected to remain silent instead of sharply opposing Allegra’s inviting Marinette to their lunch. (The sly smiles that were thrown his way by Claude and Allan afterwards were above irritating, though.)

Nevertheless, Felix felt she was worth the teasing for now, because Marinette, in short, was a puzzle.

And Felix loved his puzzles.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 10: Crash and Burn

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, mentions of trauma/ parental death

Summary: It’s finally time to give Sturm a test drive. Everything should go just fine….Right?

Feedback appreciated. 18+

No smut this time…sorry

The day had arrived: Sturm was finally ready for a real test drive. Heisenberg was on cloud nine, waking up Juniper early. He greeted her bedside with a cup of coffee, urging her up and into the kitchen. After she was awake enough to cook, they made breakfast together.

Heisenberg fried sausage links while Juniper buttered toast. A shared breakfast was rare between them with their differing times of rising.

They sat at the table across from one another. Heisenberg smiled at her, thinking they looked like a perfect little married couple. She looked so sweet to him in the mornings: curly hair a mess and cheeks still rosy with sleep.

Juniper moved her breakfast around her plate pondering, “Hey, why does the Duke allow you to have a tab when it’s apparently ‘against policy’ ?”

Heisenberg stabbed a piece of sausage before he spoke, “Well, do business with him damn near a hundred years and he may work more with you.”

He chewed a mouthful before continuing, “And besides I only use a tab when I send you out to pick up my orders.”

“Why?!”

“I don’t trust you with a satchel of lei.” He smirked.

“That’s rude.” Juniper wrinkled her nose, “And sexist.”

Heisenberg nodded along with her as he ate.

Seeing him agreeing made her lips curl in a small smile.

“Misogynistic?” He asked, mischief in his eyes, pointing his fork to her with a raised brow.

“It may be.” She giggled.

“And dare I say, stereotypical?” He fixed her with a mock seriousness.

“All of the above.” She agreed, trying to mimic the tone.

They held the stare down for a long moment, both trying to keep their lips from twitching.

They failed.

The kitchen erupted with a storm of laughter. Heisenberg put his knuckles to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound, causing Juniper to lose her composure even further.

She loved to see his eyes crinkle with real glee.

~

Juniper followed him down to the workshop, assisting in getting the comatose Sturm onto a cart and clipping the restringing bands into place.

He kissed her forehead, thanking her for her help as he began to push the cart towards the elevator.

They didn’t go to the arena, Sturm not quite battle ready. This was just his first test drive, to let him fully power on in an open space.

Heisenberg picked the room that Juniper had previously laid waste to, seeing as it couldn’t get much worse. Or so he thought.

He sat the cart down, unbuckling the restraints and instructing Juniper to stay plenty back.

He joined her, excitement oozing from him.

Sturm powered on, the hum of his motor filling the room. He stood up, taking several heavy steps before pausing, the sound like a motorcycle emanating from him as he revved his engine.

Juniper glanced at Heisenberg, seeing worry pricking his face. His jaw was tight but his eyes didn’t leave his creation.

Suddenly Sturm surged forward, moving as fast as his legs would allow. The chainsaw propeller turned wildly as he went.

Sturm didn’t stop or even slow down until he ran headfirst into a series of pipes in the walls. Juniper frowned, seeing the overly large core on his back flickering dangerously.

The creature tugged backward once, finding itself stuck.

Heisenberg made a sound of aggravation, starting to walk forward to assist. It was too late.

Strum lifted his arms in an attempt to free himself easier. Before Heisenberg could get close enough Sturm had pulled away from the pipes.

His propeller instantly spun back to life, without the foresight to remove his arms.

“Shit!” Heisenberg yelled as Sturm’s arms were quickly and efficiently sliced off at the elbows.

Black blood spurted out from the stumps as the creature struggled to turn around. The forearms fell like stones on the floor, fingers twitching.

Juniper’s stomach fell as she watched the creature almost slip in its own puddle of blood clumsily. It was clear he wouldn’t function smoothly.

“What the fuck are you doing, you piece of metal garbage?!” Heisenberg yelled, storming closer. Juniper felt the pressure rise in the room.

Sturm stomped just enough out of the way of Heisenberg, surging forward a second time and just running with wild abandon across the room, spilling gore as he went.

Heisenberg didn’t move for a moment, watching Sturm bump into the opposite wall, almost dumbfounded.

But as the shock evaporated it was replaced with pure rage and embarrassment.

His charms clinked together as a heavy hum started to rumble around him.

All the little pieces of metal started to rise and vibrate.

“….Karl?” Juniper called out worriedly, taking a tentative step toward him.

Heisenberg’s head hardly turned toward her before he growled, “Get out.”

Juniper shook a bit, her compassion overriding her sense of self preservation, “Karl, please talk to me.”

He looked at his hands, the metal swirling more erratically.

“I said, get the fuck out!” He bellowed, baring his teeth. His muscles were tight and the air seemed to pop.

Juniper turned and fled, running up the stairs. As soon as she was a safe distance away she heard the room explode with noise. The sound of scrapping metal and things being thrown with inhuman force reverberated throughout the factory.

Heisenberg's voice could just be heard over the chaos, screaming obscenities.

Juniper kept moving, grabbing her coat as she went. She’d never seen him that bad, that far into his anger. Slight fear swirled her stomach, she wanted fresh air.

She didn’t stop moving until she burst through the entry door, her boots meeting snow.

She stopped, bracing her hands on her knees as she took ragged breaths. Her heart hammered like a scared bird in her rib cage.

She could still hear the muffled impacts of Heisenberg’s anger, even up here.

She steadied herself, needing more space. She looked up to the back gate, the way leading to the mountains.

As soon as she was past the gate she was greeted with company. A group of Lycans, and even a varcolac, decided to follow her.

They all started the trek up the mountain path.

~

His boiling anger slowly turned into a simmer, the rage becoming a dull throb. His arms fell limply to his sides, sweat soaking into his shirt.

Sturm still wandered around the room, haphazardly getting caught in the pipes.

Heisenberg’s breath was ragged as he watched the creature bumble around. He hated it, hated that it was such a glaring failure.

All the time he wasted on him made his stomach turn. He looked down at his gloved hands, grimacing, the conviction to destroy more leaving him.

Now the displeasure of his failure seeped into his bones and he hungered for something other than chaos. He wanted comfort.

He looked around the room, at all the destruction and sharpness of twisting metal.

“Doll?” He called out, hoping she had stayed somewhat close. He waited for a long moment, listening above the grind of machinery, for a response. Silence greeted him.

Sighing he made his way to the apartment, it being her normal escape from his outbursts.

It, too, was oddly quiet. Heisenberg’s chest tightened as he explored further, finding the bathroom and balcony also vacant.

Worry started to etch deeply into his features.

He headed back into the factory, his sharp eyes catching that her coat was missing from its hanger near the door.

“Buttercup?!” He called loudly down the open elevator shaft. When no answer came the worry became a stinging thorn in his chest.

Had he gone too far this time?

The thought poisoned him as he made his way down each level. Doors rattled open by themselves as he passed, his fingers almost itching to press the alarm. When only the familiar sounds of the factory greeted him he began to shake.

“Juniper?!” He called out finally, unable to keep his voice even. He found his way to the main door, pulling it open quickly.

There were footprints in the wet ground, much fresher than the rest.

His heart sank, eyes following them in the directions of the mountains.

~

The varcolac seemed to enjoy her company, padding besides her heavily as she went. In truth she had no real destination, just wanted time away. The creature’s tongue lolled out happily, other Lycans joining in. They seemed more grouped up then usual.

Juniper wasn’t scared as she’d been in the past, aware they wouldn’t harm her without being provoked.

They would even chase after small items she found if she threw them. She giggled, seeing two fighting over an old children’s toy.

Feeling a burn in her legs she decided to rest. She chose a sunny outcropping of rock.

The sun baked stone felt warm under her as she sat. The varcolac scrambled up to join her, flopping down with a deep sigh.

Between the sun and the heat radiating from the hulking beast, she was comfortably warm enough.

Juniper closed her eyes, listening to the wind through the mountains. In an odd way it was peaceful. Even when surrounded by death and twisted monsters there was an almost soothing silence.

It was in moments like these she could attempt to process everything she’d been through. The trauma that hid in the dark parts of her mind, waiting to pounce on her when she was weak.

She tried to remember her life before.

So much was stripped away. Flashes of her past coated in pain and haze. She couldn’t remember the faces of her family, or her mother. They were gone, but now even their memories were taken from her.

She felt a tear run down her cheek, like a bead of fire down her chilled face. She pulled her legs up to her chest, sniffing. As much as she tried to ignore it everything just felt fragile and foreign. She burst into broken sobs.

The varcolac shifted besides her, sniffing at her coat when it heard her anguish.

She wiped her nose on her coat sleeve, trying to calm down. Juniper attempted to fill her mind with all the positives: she was alive, had a warm bed to sleep in and didn’t go hungry. Touching her compass, her mind went to Heisenberg. Although he was rough and capricious, he was hers. She truly cared for him, so much more than she thought possible. Her heart swelled, the feeling soothing her.

The Lycans stirring and scurrying away caused her to look up. Heisenberg stood on the trail a few paces down. He was still, his eyes a mix of anger and fear behind his shades.

The varcolac gave a low growl as he took a step towards her.

His head snapped towards the creature, baring his teeth. It whimpered, shrinking back before scrambling off the rock.

Heisenberg huffed out before looking back at Juniper. She didn’t feel like she could breathe, her earlier thoughts still hanging heavily over her.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He looked over her, previous worries making his voice harder then he intended.

His tone caused her to spill over again. Juniper blinked up at him with large glassy green eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks as her face scrunched up.

All the anger drained from Heisenberg’s form, worry and fear quickly replacing it.

He crumpled down, throwing his arms around her. She yelped as he pulled her into a desperate hug. He clutched her tightly, giving a pleading whisper into her hair, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He gulped, all the words tumbling from his lips, “Please don’t leave.”

He thought she was running away?

That realization struck Juniper like a bolt of lightning. Her hands found his back, returning the hug and burying her messy face into his coat.

She felt him tremble a bit under her, causing her to sob anew. Unaware of the true reasonings behind her crying he scooped her up off the rock, not wanting to lose her for a moment.

“Please come back.” He whispered, almost crushing her to his chest.

“I-I…” Juniper sniffled, trying to formulate a full sentence.

Heisenberg let her go enough to look at her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks a mess, hair clinging to the moisture. He reached up with a free hand and smoothed the hair away.

“I…I wasn’t.” She looked down, “I wasn’t running away.”

Heisenberg shuttered with relief, his lips weakly twitching into a smile.

“You were so angry…I.” Juniper sniffed, “I just wanted to go outside for a bit…to see the mountains. I don’t want to leave.”

His heart soared, cradling her back to his chest.

She gulped, feeling the stress flow out of his form.

Juniper held onto him until her breathing slowed.

“Karl?” She chirped.

“Hm?”

“Can we go home?”

“…of course.”

He didn’t allow her to walk until they were almost all the way back, instead holding her close as they went. She didn’t argue, enjoying his warmth.

Once back in the apartment Heisenberg showered first. After washing away all the filth and somber feelings down the drain he haphazardly dried then sprawled across the bed. He lay looking up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, fidgeting with his necklaces.

He listened to the sound of the shower as Juniper cleaned herself.

He didn’t realize how much it would hurt finding her missing, she had become a normality in his chaos.

“Karl?” Juniper chirped, approaching the bed. “Hm?” Heisenberg raised a brow, scratching his chin. He lay down across the sheets in only boxers and a light shirt.

“I was cleaning up the storage room the other day and found some old books.” She sat on the bed, one of them in her hand.

She held it up; its old leather cover showing delicate gold text, worn with time.

“I think it’s in Dutch.” She mused, opening it up.

Heisenberg shifted closer, looking at the pages.

His eyes scanned over the words for a moment before he made a sound of realization.

“It’s not Dutch, it’s in German!” He smiled. He snaked his arms around Juniper’s waist pulling her backward, deeper into the bed.

She giggled a bit as he shifted into a more comfortable position, keeping an arm around her. She cuddled into his side, looking over the words.

She was unable to read the words, but still liked looking it over in almost a childlike way.

“Why do you have so many German books?” She asked, “Can you speak German?”

“When I was younger I could.” He placed his chin on her shoulder, “Very rusty now.”

She bounced a bit, smiling excitedly.

“Say something in German!”

“Why?”

“I want to hear it.”

“Shit, give me a second”

His pale eyes clouded with thought, hugging her closer as he did so. She cuddled into his side. Juniper loved his warmth, like an electric blanket.

He shifted enough to look into her eyes.

“Du bist die sterne meiner nacht.”, his voice was gentle, the thicker accent surprising her a bit.

The way his lips moved and the way the words hit her ear enthralled her.

“What does it mean?” Juniper blinked up at him.

“If you wanted to understand me you shouldn’t have asked me to speak German.” He smirked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re a bastard!” Juniper lightly shoved him, causing him to bark with laughter.

(Du bist die sterne meiner nacht: You are the stars of my night)

[thisaccisdead]

montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly… fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

[pips-fics]

ask: Hi! I have a request too, if you have time. 👉👈 Chan and Changbin having both an stomach ache. (I’m good with any reason). Just those two need more attention 🥺

ask by @sickminnie - be sure to check out their blog if you enjoy bts, txt, or ateez fics!!! they have an impressively varied list of things that they'll write within the sickfic uhhh genre (?) and also one of the most aesthetic blogs i've seen! thank you for the ask 💛

tw: vomit

from then to now ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

the last time changbin had been sick was predebut. he’d been pretty new to the company and very young - he hadn’t been nervous about any of it up until that point, but something about the fever or the chills or the nausea or the loneliness had welcomed the homesickness that, up until that point, he’d had no trouble shutting out.

now, years later, he felt just as small sitting there on the bathroom floor, stomach aching. he was determined not to cry this time. it’s not like it would help, anyway. what would help, he hoped, was medicine, so he forced himself to his feet, and scoured the bathroom cabinets for something to help his stomach. he came up empty, nothing but a spinning head to show for his efforts.

changbin thought to himself that he should look harder, or go out to a convenience store to get something, and then he sat heavily on the ground in front of the toilet again, right back where he’d started. his ears felt so much like they were stuffed with cottontails that he actually stuck his finger inside to be sure. it wasn’t just that, though - everything felt fuzzy, and weighted down. he didn’t feel strong enough to carry himself, so changbin laid his head on the cool toilet cover, thinking, as he drifted off, about how gross it was, but also how convenient.

——

changbin woke up to his stomach muscles clenching and ready to forcibly eject anything in his belly. he scrambled desperately to open the toilet lid and jumped at the noise it made when he succeeded, but he stayed firmly put. changbin didn’t have much of a choice. his body’s actions were out of his control for the next five minutes, dredging up more and more vomit. he shuddered during one of the few breaks he was awarded, wiped the mess off of his face using toilet paper, and had just a few seconds to wish that someone would wake up and help him. even as he thought it, changbin felt guilty; first and foremost, he wanted his group members to be healthy, and that included receiving a proper amount of sleep.

of course, he couldn’t linger over the thought for too long, as he was promptly being sick once again, but the sense of loneliness pressed on, more present than before, and he felt tears - not just of exertion - prick his eyes. he’d wake up tomorrow to a house full of too-loud boys, but for the time being, changbin felt really, truly alone for the first time in a while.

so, when a blanket fell on his shoulders, he just about jumped out of his skin.

“sorry,” a voice said, and changbin immediately relaxed, and then almost felt like laughing.

there was a part of the past that he’d forgotten. when he’d been sick all those years ago, he hadn’t been alone. chan had been there, the whole time, and here he was again.

“hyung,” changbin said when he was able, throat raw and tasting of bile, “you’re here again.”

changbin didn’t realize he’d been expecting chan to read his mind until he saw the confused look on the older man’s face.

“you must have a sixth sense for when i’m sick,” he explained - and then he hesitated. chan looked… well, regretful wasn’t quite the right word, but something about his expression made changbin feel bad. he cringed, and wiped tears from his cheeks.

“sorry, i mean– you’re always stuck taking care of me. you don’t have to, hyung, you should get some sleep.” the words pained changbin to say, even though they were entirely true. chan seemed to feel similarly, sitting ramrod straight, suddenly, face crumpling into an expression that was, very clearly, regret.

“oh, no, bin, no. i don’t–” chan hiccuped, and something suddenly clicked in changbin’s fevered brain, the final piece of the puzzle of the past coming together. chan kept talking, explaining how he couldn’t sleep anyway, and changbin nodded, but his mind was on a different timeline.

not long after he’d been sick, back when he was still a trainee, he remembered hearing that chan had caught his bug. back then, changbin hadn’t had a clue of chan’s illness until well after he was healthy again. he’d felt infinitely guilty for it - for not returning that favor - but chan himself and some of the other older boys had reassured him that it wasn’t his fault. chan was just really good at hiding things like that.

pushing his own nausea as far away as possible, changbin inspected chan closely. he really was good at hiding things, changbin thought. still, there were cracks.

in the dimly lit room, changbin couldn’t hope to tell whether the other man was sweating, but he did catch him wiping his brow. he caught chan shivering, once, his whole body shaken by a tremor, and after that changbin could see that the trembling never really stopped. and then changbin noticed chan’s hand moving to his stomach, hesitantly.

changbin spoke with every ounce of tenderness his body possessed. “why are you still up, hyung?”

the words came out sad, concerned, and warm, but chan didn’t seem to notice. he simply shrugged. “couldn’t seep,” he said, eyes darting away from changbin. “you know, the usual - i told you before.”

changbin thought that was probably part of it, but highly unlikely to be the whole story, especially when a heady belch escaped chan’s lips. he covered his mouth, quickly, with the back of his and, but there was really no way for chan to hide that once it had happened.

feeling nauseous once again at the sickly noise but determined, changbin stood, and walked over to chan. he put an arm around the older man’s shoulders.

“c’mon, hyung, i think i’m done. let’s switch.”

finally, chan relented, kneeling in front of the toilet. he was shaking, still, more now, but he turned towards changbin again, shaking his head.

“you don’t have to stay here, bin. you should get some rest.”

“hyung!” changbin scowled. maybe it was his fever getting the better of him, but he felt tears of frustration wet his eyes again. “let me help you,” he demanded. “please.”

a lot was the same now, as it had been. chan had always been a steadiness, not just for changbin, but for all of the members. he did have a sixth sense for when any of them were sick.

but some things had changed. changbin had gotten older - more stubborn, some would say, but he just wanted to do things right, this time. he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

he couldn’t tell if chan understood, or if his body had decided he’d run out of time, but it didn’t really matter. changbin stayed stubbornly where he was, kneeling next to chan as the older man threw up.

changbin’s own stomach flipped immediately upon seeing chan be sick, but he repressed the urge to vomit by sheer force of will. chan kept mumbling silly things, like “i’m okay,” and “don’t worry, bin,” in between possibly the most violent rounds of puking changbin had ever seen.

it wasn’t like he didn’t get it, though. watching someone he loved suffering like this - it was hard for changbin. every time chan gasped for air, changbin felt like he was drowning with him. every time chan whimpered at the force of a heave, changbin felt a little bit like crying.

he would have felt very useless, if he hadn’t felt the comfort of chan’s presence in the past. it felt odd, to changbin, to stand there and just rub chan’s back, but he knew it meant something.

he felt it, later.

when chan was about finished, just about ready to lean back, relax, and then try to sleep off the remnants of the bug, chan’s stomach rebelled one last time. it was an inopportune moment, and chan was too slow to get back over the toilet in time, so when his stomach muscles tightened, he curled over himself. the very little that was left in his stomach ended up as a dark brown stain on his shirt, and even after that chan kept retching. when he finally was done, for real, chan’s eyes were scared and pained and open, vulnerable in a way changbin hadn’t seen before.

shaking, chan reached for changbin. “bin, what– what’d i do,” he said, looking his shirt. “i can’t - what do i do now? i–”

“hyung! hyung, it’s okay.” changbin had the urge to laugh, once again. “do you remember what a mess i was, a couple years ago?”

chan’s lips twitched uncertainly. “but you’re sick, too.”

changbin snorted. “yeah, and you just barely stained your shirt. you don’t even like this shirt, hyung, take it off and we’ll go to bed, come on.”

and that was really all it took. it wasn’t easy, of course, getting themselves settled - they ended up on the couch in the living room, not wanting to disturb the others. by the time changbin gathered water for them to stay hydrated and trashcans - just in case - he was bone tired. but then, by the time he got back, chan was already asleep. conscience just a little bit lighter, changbin was soon to follow.

——

no reader survey this time, too tired and my computer is breaking but please feel free to send in any thoughts you'd like to share, about the fic or otherwise!

——

feel free to send more asks! / rules

[burnedbyshoto]

shinsou and the very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shift

— You, a new sidekick, screw up a case for a Pro Hero Shinsou, and he demands compensation.

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pairing: older!shinsou hitoshi x younger fem!reader

warnings: age gap (shinsou 25, reader 18), nsfw, 18+, pwp, DEGRADATION, power imbalance, spanking, marking, cursing, shinsou is a major asshole, mindbreak, sorta subspace, happy ending for shinsou, depending on person unhappy ending for reader, public sex, dubcon because of power imbalance

word count: 3,892

a/n: happy halloween. this is mean degradation imo like I thought ive done degradation but this made all those look like praise kink. be careful and click out if its too much

kinktober day 20 main kink: degradation | kinktober masterlist

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How you ever forgot that as a high school hero-in-training student, you were a big fish in a tiny pond was beyond you. Well, to be quite honest, you never thought yourself to be a big fish, to begin with.

You were eighteen, a few months from turning nineteen and had just graduated from the hero course over at UA. That in itself was a huge accomplishment, one that you should take with bubbling pride and joy, but to be quite honest, having such a big name attached to you only made you nervous. To tell the truth, you often wondered just why a hero within the top 50 even scouted you to work as an intern with them and then offer you a position as a sidekick as soon as you entered your third year. Still, it seemed to be a common predicament with BMI Hero: FatGum.

Today was your first day on the job, no longer a student part of a hero work-study, but as a physical, government paid hero — a fickle sidekick! You shuddered as you slipped on the shoes to your outfit, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way out of the locker room, ready to report to your first assignment.

FatGum agency was quite a lovely place, loud and warm, being the first two adjectives you thought of when you first joined their ranks. It did wonders for your self-esteem, and seeing newly turned Pro Hero Suneater, who apparently was a million times more of a nervous mess than you were, made you feel oddly in good hands.

But still, nothing could keep you from the shock that ran through your body when FatGum proudly thrust forward a patrol route for you to follow.

“Alright, pipsqueak,” FatGum jovially spoke, his eyes closed while he smiled. “This is your route for the day! It should take about an hour to get through unless anything happens! You’ll go on the route every three hours, and in between those patrols, it’s the same paper system as before! Good luck out there, y/h/n, you got this!”

“Oh my god, no, I do not?!” you spluttered, hands shaking wildly as you went through the folder Fat had so quickly presented. “What if I die?!”

“You’ll be fine. Remember how Deku and Ground Zero complimented you the other day?”

“Yeah!” you exclaim, your face burning with your shame as you remembered that confrontation. “But that only happened because Deku is a living saint, and I spilled my noodles all over him and Ground Zero! Ground Zero was also, by the way, forced to compliment me by Deku! And all he said was that my combat skills were absolutely shitty but not as shitty as he thought they would be!”

“Ah yes, I remember Red Riot discussing how his friend was less than inept at expressing his gratitude,” FatGum hummed in memory, although that dumb, proud smile never left his face. “If I remember correctly, that means he has great respect for you!”

You made a dying noise at the back of your throat.

“But Deku doesn’t lie! He speaks honestly, so all his compliments were definitely true. Now, y/h/n, let's get through this day together, ne?”

You didn’t agree, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing you out to the streets, your heart hammering in your throat as you walked through the path he used to take you on every day. Your smile was shaky and wobbly as the people you recognized waved and cheered you on. They were all excited to see you on your own. 

However, they did point out that you were here an entire hour earlier than usual, but hey! That’s what happened when you went from being a student to trying to function as an adult!

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” you chanted as you passed by the spookiest alleyway on your patrol.

The hour-long patrol was almost done if your watch wasn’t lying to you: a full patrol and not a single instance of needing to help. Well, you had assisted some people in carrying groceries and holding a child as a mother shopped for dinner that night, but there were no altercations, nothing out of the ordinary. 

You marched through the alleyway, your fists in a shaky clenched grip as cold, nervous sweat dripped down your neck.

You were okay, you are okay, you will be okay.

“Nothing to be afraid of! Just a normal, average, no villains insight day!” you spoke to yourself, your body shaking as you pass an opening in the alleyway, and you turn your head to look and freeze.

“Alright, and I don’t want fucking nobody hearing goddamn shit about this drug, got it?!” a man with a quirk that made him look like a blowfish snapped.

Six men stood in the alleyway, all with tall, massive, threatening vibes. You didn’t make a single noise; you knew that for a fact, but their gazes still fell on you the moment the man stopped speaking. A horrible, stupid movie cliche that happened too often in hero life.

Your life probably flashed before your eyes at that single moment, your body and mind instinctively moving to call the heroes before realizing that you were the hero now. What do you do?! What could you do?! Drugs?! Did they have drugs?!

Panicking greatly, you watched their mouths move, but you couldn’t hear them as you took in their faces in a blur. Before you knew it, your mind shut down, and your body took over. You weren’t sure what it was. If you were way stronger than the entire group or if you just had an untapped potential that burst open right now, because you blinked and suddenly there were all thrown onto the floor, busted and bloody and tied up.

You… you did it?!

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your hands rising to your mouth as you looked at each and every one of their smushed, dirty faces. “I WON?! I won, oh my god, I won — wait?!”

You stepped over to the purple-haired man on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a cloth fabric you probably shoved in there at some point.

“M-Mindjack-sensei?!” you cried, your excitement of betting this drug handoff simmering off immediately. “W-What are you doing? Were you gonna stop this drug handoff? I — oh my god, let me get this off!” You scrambled to get the restraints off of Shinsou, unaware of the way the other captured men glared at Shinsou, utterly shocked and betrayed as you cleared him.

“Thank you for the capture, y/h/n!” a police officer congratulated you as you freed Shinsou, and you smiled, nodding your head. “Is it just four of them?”

You froze.

You had counted six men at first, and with Shinsou recovered, that made five men.

“I didn’t… I lost one of them?” you deflated, all sense of confidence draining you as Shinsou remained on the floor.

“Ah,” the police officer grimaced, his head shaking before he paused and looked up at you with a halfhearted smile. “Well, you still did good work! We’ll see what drug they were talking about, and if it’s nothing too crazy, they’ll be good to go!”

“Yeah, of course,” you smile weakly, feeling ready to cry as you hold onto your wrist.

“But, uh, who’s the guy on the ground?” he nodded towards Shinsou, who was looking entirely pissed off and ready to bite like some cornered, raging animal.

“Oh, Mindjack!” you respond, hands motioning toward one of the other older Pro Heroes you looked up to. 

The police officer stared at Shinsou, an unconvinced look on his face.

“I thought he was… ah, well, old? And didn’t he have black hair?” he muttered before shrugging. You didn’t manage to stutter out your knowledge of the older man with black hair being Eraserhead because he was long gone already, fingers pressed to his radio, chatting with his HQ.

Breathing out a nervous sigh, you turned to Shinsou with a shy and fully apologetic smile. “I am so sorry for hurting you! Are you okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning the older heroes' stance, unable to read anything but annoyance radiating from his body. 

“No, I’m not okay, actually,” Shinsou spat, his face finally looking up from the floor, and you felt your throat run thick at the rage and anger simmering from his face. 

“W-Wha—” you stammer, taking a step back, overwhelmed.

“You just fucking ruined six months of undercover work,” he seethed, his feet moving to stalk towards you. You found yourself stumbling backward, looking everywhere but at him. You can feel your balance giving; the cold filth of the alleyway wall your saving grace as his fingers grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face him. His purple eyes black in his fury. “I don’t think you realized just how badly you fucked up?! You stupid fucking child!”

A wash of ice-cold realization flooded through you, the horror of what you knew you just did completely dawning on you as tears sprung in your eyes. You felt nauseous, utterly sick to your stomach because this seasoned Pro Hero definitely had shit to do, and you practically shat all over it.

“I am so sorry,” you whimper, pain shooting through you just slightly at the grip he has on your chin. “I am so so sorry, i-is there anything that I c-can do?! How can I-I fix it?!”

“You think I need help from some crybaby?” Shinsou snapped, thoroughly unimpressed by you, his eyes narrowing further. You didn’t even realize you were crying already. 

“I-I’m useful, I promise!” you cry a bit more, your body struggling as the older hero trapped you against the wall, his face glowering down at you with the intensity of a million suns. “I-I’m a sidekick over a-at Fatgum’s agency, but, oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything you ask of me!”

There’s a looming silence, a heavy tension as his eyes drop from your eyes to your parted wet lips. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel every heavy breath expelling on your face. 

“You think a pathetic, worthless little sidekick is able to do anything for me?” Shinsou snapped, his eyes narrowing as he loomed even closer. “A pathetic fucking bitch like you? I don’t think you can give me even a simple fucking action that would prove your worth.”

The words are hot embers on your ears, making your jaw drop, and your body trembles at the simple degradation. You feel your tears hot on your cheeks, your parted lips invaded by his dirt-covered fingers as he pressed onto your tongue. It had to be the shock of it, the reality of the hot, hard dick pressing into your stomach and the way he was staring at you like some piece of fucking meat, but you gagged around his fingers.

“Why am I not fucking surprised, you goddamn fucking whore,” he sneered, his fingers shoving faster into your mouth, pressing dangerously hard against your tongue, trying to get you to gag and choke around his fingers. “You fucking sure you’re a fucking sidekick? Look at you, pathetic, stupid, crying like a baby in an alleyway? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Fucking save yourself from this, you fucking bitch.”

You violently shake, your hands finding themselves tethered to his shirt, your head shaking nonetheless.

“Oh, you don’t want to save yourself?” He coos, his expression turning the slightest bit amused, maybe a bit possessive, but it lasts a second. You blink, and anger has replaced the amusement, red streaking in his vision. “Why the fuck not?”

“B-Because,” you strangle, your tongue flat against your mouth, your throat instinctively opening and closing against his fingers. “I said I’ll do anything y-you wanted!”

There’s another pause, and you wait pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with your anxiety and weird turned-on state. Shinsou was a Pro Hero, someone who was eight years older than you, someone you had respected since you were in grade school. Yet, here you were, looking nothing more than a slab of meat to him, a hole for him to abuse in his anger because you had fucked up.

“Oh, you stupid fucking slut,” he laughed, his teethed bared into a feral smirk. “You want this, huh. You want to please me any way I see fucking fit, fucking perfect. Turn around.”

There’s no room to argue or think; he turns you around without a second's notice. His hand shoving your chest into the wall, and you cry at the discomfort. He grabs your ass, pushing you uncomfortably into an arched position as he tears your pants down from your legs.

 “You’re a worthless fucking cumdump. Not even noon yet, and I’m going use your fucking body however I see fit.” Shinsou promises, fingers raking down your supple ass. Nails tearing into your skin, fingers slapping your covered cunt. “You worthless fucking slut, dirty fucking whore, already goddamn wet.”

“I’m n-not wet!” you cry, hips spasming against his rough hold, and slaps to your aching cunt. You know it’s a lie, you know that clear as day, but it doesn’t keep you from lying. Doesn’t stop you from shivering when he pinches at the cloth of your panties and removes them from your sopping wet folds.

“You think I don’t know if you’re wet or not?” Shinsou growled in warning, his fingers pinching together your soaked folds. An action that makes you cry loudly, the sharp pain too much for you. “You think I’m some fucking idiot?”

“N-No!” you cry, his fingers shifting to where your throbbing entrance is and his other hand going to your mouth, once again claiming your lips as his nails purposefully impose pain on your heated cunt. 

“You must think that since you’re lying to me,” he snaps, his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breaths making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You want to speak up, say something, but his fingers are fucking your mouth, keeping you from speaking back. “But again, you aren’t fucking worth anything, are you? You’re not fucking anything.”

Those words whip against your skin, making you twist in his arms, hot tears pushing past your eyes again as you cry.

“Oh, you don’t like that?” Shinsou comments, his fingers pinching and pulling your tongue, and his hips begin to grind his hot, burning flesh into your ass. “Well, you better stop fucking crying because I’m not gonna stop until I’m fucking done — until I’m fucking relieved. This isn’t about you; this is for me. You aren’t shit, fucking worthless piece of shit whore.”

You sob into the brick wall, the tears unable to be stopped, unable to clear as his fingers that were scraping at your folds begin to fuck you at the same time as he fingers your mouth faster. The sensation of being outside, finger fucked in an alleyway by a Pro Hero you admired and respected beyond comparison, made you tremble with want and need. His cruel, completely degrading words a warm fire in your belly and against your skin. 

The sounds of the wet caverns he was currently fucking begin to echo in the wall, his throbbing cock grinding against your ass. It’s a sensation that makes you cry with need, your ass shifting back to feel him more, to get more from the contact he’s giving you.

“Of course some screwup like you likes this shit,” Shinsou grunted, his fingers fishing and rubbing against the spongy warmth of your walls, fingers scraping ever so gently against the velvetiness. You spasm against his touch, your whiney, pleasure-filled noises filling up the alleyway almost as loudly as the choking and the squelching of your pussy.

His hands suddenly leave your mouth, and you’re heaving at the deserted feeling in your mouth. You whip your head around, trying to see just why he had abandoned your mouth, desperate to please him more in any way he saw fit. But instead, you’re met with the sicky coldness of your saliva spread across your face. Almost instantly drying against your face as your still tear-soaked eyes looked into his dark ones.

“Don’t look so fucking sad, stupid cockslut,” Shinsou snapped, his hand that had been fucking your cunt abandoning your warmth and meeting your face. You whined, unable to come up with words as he spreads your slick against your face. A shiver wrecks your spine, a pathetic whimper at the smell, and the feel of the warm thickness of your slick. “You wanted this, fucking asked me to wreck your worthless holes.”

“I-I’m not sad,” you try to defend yourself, your body shaking as you feel the heated warmth of his cock suddenly between the curves of your ass. It presses heavily onto you, skin twitching and throbbing with its emitting warmth and simmering heat. 

Shinsou pauses, his eyes deadly and threatening as he glares at you. Unamusement heavy in his gaze, his mouth set in a small, teeth-baring snarl. “Then why the fuck are you crying? You think you deserve to be crying right now? No. You fucking worthless slut, you don’t. You ruined my damn shift, my damn case, I should be the one fucking crying. Your pathetic ass is worthless and tried to make my life the same, and that won’t fucking fly.”

The words tighten at your throat, your body trembling as tears continue to flow. His words are white-hot against your skin, and although it hurts to hear it, your cunt clenches in response, slicking even more.

His hand comes down suddenly onto your ass. The slap sharp and stinging, echoing loudly against the alleyway walls as you scream in pain. It throbs, your back contorting as you try to stretch the skin that makes you ache. But Shinsou spanks your ass again, without warning, his hand unmerciful against your soft, swelling flesh. You yelp again.

He spanks again, and again, and again. Each echoing action sending your voice screaming, counting them without even being told, succumbed to him and his every action and thought without needing to be. He spanks you until your ass feels raw and bloody, the bruises undoubtedly forming as he pinches the folds of your dripping cunt.

“Stick your ass out more,” he growls, tugging at the fold, making you stumble. The cock pressing onto the split of your ass feels heavy, and you twitch at the seeping pre-cum dripping onto your muscled rim. The bricks scratch at your face, and you find your ass wiggling out further from the wall, your back arched more as the cold wall sings through the clothes on your breast. “I’m not gonna put more fucking effort into fucking a goddamn worthless bitch than I should.”

And with that, your ass perfectly exposed for him to use and fuck. His throbbing cock presses through your pussy and slams all the way into you.

There were many pains you were used to as an aspiring hero. You were used to being punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown about, etc. Each of those pains were something you had been taught to make feel better, each pain demonstrated to you so that it wouldn’t be the thing that took you out. But there was no training for the way that his thick cock pressed through your impossibly tight entrance. There was no pain that could relate to the white fire of your rapidly fluttering entrance that was trying too hard to keep up with his slamming thick cock.

“IT HURTS!” you shriek, body twisting, tears flooding your cheeks as you feel weak in the legs. Body moments from falling. “It hurts so much! Please! It hurts!”

“Oh? It hurts? It's supposed to fucking hurt you fucking idiot, fucking whore,” Shinsou snapped in return, his hips firing into even faster than before. His massive body practically caving onto you as his cock rockets into you. Unforgiving, relentless, and with the drive to make him cum. Your vision swirls and spins as the pain reaches its peak, your mouth opening, your voice no longer working. But oh, how the saliva dripped from your mouth as his hands abandoned your waist to grab onto your stretched cheeks. He held onto your cheeks like some gag, slamming your head into his chest so your dazed eyes could stare up at him as his menacing gaze bore down on you. “You think this was supposed to make you feel good? I don’t give a shit if you cum. This is for me. I’m not fucking stopping until I’m done using you, so shut the fuck up.”

Your whimper is soft, no longer able to keep up with the pleasure your body begins to reach as the pain becomes one of pure bliss. Your eyes crossing as every thrust of his welcomed cock drives you further and further up the wall. The squelching of your meeting sexes almost sounds like a nursery rhyme. A pleasant noise that makes you giggle deliriously as Shinsou continues to degrade you continues to spout how insignificant you are.

“Your only purpose in your shit life is to be my fucking cumdump, fucking bitch, do you understand me?” Shinsou spat, his thrusting becoming barbaric, stammering in his power and speed. You laugh, your head nodding as you stare up at him with loving eyes, the drool and tears on your face trailing down your throat, soaking your uniform. “Tell me what your purpose is?”

“To be your cumdump!” you laugh, elation bubbling in your chest, fluttering deep around your cunt until you felt Shinsou’s teeth sink into your throat.

The feeling of hot, sticky cum expelling into your cunt feels like blistering euphoria, his heavy, rough breathing on your skin, making you moan softly. Your own orgasm hits, much softer, much more controlled than his as your walls clamp down like a vice around him. Your orgasm is warm, sounding deep within you that you almost didn’t realize you were dropped to the floor.

A soft, pitiful moan sounds from your lip, your eyes focused on Shinsou, who’s shoving his limp cock back into his pants, but his eyes are on the skyline.

“I-I’m sorry for messing up your… your case,” you rasp on the floor. 

Shinsou shifts on his feet, his gaze lingering longer onto the skyline before finally setting onto you. The anger seems to have disappeared, a look of slight boredom but the excitement in his eyes as he leans down over you. You feel breathless when his mouth presses against yours in a short, chaste kiss.

“I think you just helped me keep my cover, slut; maybe you do have some worth,” he laughed against your mouth.

He leaves you there, your body going limp and blackness taking over the moment he disappears.

[damnedparker]

fugitives

pairing: alex law x reader (gender neutral; no y/n)

warnings: food mention, swearing, Extremely Soft alex, cliche flower date, literally all fluff because thats my brand i guess

summary: alex law is a lot of things, but he most definitely is not a shitty boyfriend.

3k words alex lawies! what! i dont even know what this is. soppy romantic stuff. i love this stupid criminal man too much and no one can stop me. all i can write is fluff. everyday i wake up and choose yearning

You almost groaned as you were brought out of a vague sort of sleep for the third time that night, your boyfriend going through another bout of shifting around for the thousandth time. Alex had always had on and off issues with falling asleep, what he attributed to having a brain that just never stopped or slowed down enough to relax unless he was completely exhausted. You understood what he meant, you only wished you could do something to help. You had tried getting him to read, or relaxing to music before sleep, but neither seemed to help much for him.

As he shifted around again, tangling and untangling his legs with yours multiple times before tossing his head to the side in frustration, you scooted away from your usual place tucked into his side. You had hopes that giving him space without you being half on top of him might help him find a comfortable enough position to fall asleep. Soon, you began to doze off again, your body tuning out his tossing and turning just enough before you were woken up by him whispering your name when he stilled. You replied in a sleepy hum, not quite coherent enough to form any words at the moment.

“Are you mad at me?” You blinked your eyes open at that, confused.

“No, Alex, why d’you think that?”

“You moved away from me.”

“I thought maybe you would be more comfortable that way is all.” You yawned, closing your eyes again.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” There was a beat of silence, and you thought he had tried to fall asleep again before he reached out for you and pulled you back into his arms, his front pressed tightly against your back. You smiled at the return of his warmth, much preferring to sleep with him holding you or vice versa. More moments of quiet passed, and you began to get sleepy again. But once more, Alex’s voice brought you back to the waking world.

“When’s the last time we went on a date?”

“What?” You mumbled, not sure if you heard him right.

“I don’t know when the last time we went out together was.” He shifted against you again to push his legs between yours, his cold feet settling against your calves. You easily fought the urge to shiver, used to his icy palms and feet pressing against your skin or warmth during the night.

“We went out to the pub just last week.” You replied, becoming fully awake now. A frustrated puff of air from Alex met the back of your neck.

“I’d hardly call me getting shitfaced-drunk a proper date, love.” His fingers began to nervously play with the hem of your shirt as he spoke, a telling tick that Alex always smoothed over with brazen or loud words, pushing down the fact that he was distressed. You covered his hand with yours and pressed it to your tummy to still his movements, now exposed from all the shifting around the both of you had done.

“I don’t need a proper date, or whatever that even means, Alex. I just like being around you.” It sounded incredibly corny, sure, but it was true. You’d much rather get plastered or stay home watching movies with your boyfriend, than have to go through the motions at some overpriced restaurant only to come home and do the very same thing you would rather be doing in the first place.

You turned around in his arms, changing positions so that your head rested on his chest, your arms hugging his middle. He began playing with your hair quietly, not saying anything after your last statement. He had seemed to relax a little at your reassurance, but you could feel the insecurity lingering in his movements and the silence that followed without some kind of acceptance or witty comment.

This time it was you who broke the quiet.

“What’s got you thinking about this in the middle of the night?”

“A few days ago, when we were hanging around on the couch, David said some fuckin’ thing about us never going out on a date, and me being a shitty boyfriend. I don’t know why I keep thinking about it.” He mumbled bitterly, upset with himself for letting this get to him. You scooted up slightly, so your face was level with his, reaching out to brush the hair out of his face, which was quite the sight from all the tossing and turning in bed.

“Well, David’s a twat,” you murmured next to his ear, causing a small grin to break out on Alex’s face. He turned to look at you, dark circles present under his icy, soft eyes, his smile unfading. You had to actively stop yourself from bursting out with an I love you, not wanting to make the moment too serious, and you weren’t sure that Alex was the type to say it. You were also a little nervous to tell him, and mostly just hoped that somehow, he knew how much you cared for him. And, of course, you hoped he felt the same. “You are anything but a shitty boyfriend, my Alex. You’re my favorite person.” He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm, now resting against his cheek. A quiet sigh of contentment left his lips, and you closed the small gap between your faces to give him a long kiss.

“Let’s go somewhere tomorrow, get away from this stupid flat for a bit.” He pressed his cheek to yours, breath tickling your ear as he murmured softly to you. Tingles spread down your spine at the intimacy, and your hand found its way under his t-shirt, soft with wear, running up his back to feel his skin.

“Where to?” You raised an eyebrow. He sat up slightly to rest his cheek on his hand as he looked down at you, pretending to think hard before answering. Your heart fluttered when his other hand found yours, gently squeezing.

“Wherever you want.”

“Well, then I’d like to stay home.” Alex sighed dramatically and hung his head in lighthearted annoyance. The smile that had overtaken your lips since he’d woken you was incapable of leaving your face as you reached out to run your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He peeked up at you with one eye.

“You’re so difficult, you know that?”

“I do it just to make you mad.” The smile on your face was wiped off briefly as you squeaked in surprise when Alex leapt up from his position, trying to pin you to the bed. Laughter rung out far too loudly from your lungs in the middle of the night as you scrambled to escape his hold, albeit not very successfully. Just as you had one foot on the floor to leave the bed, Alex grabbed your other ankle, and the movement of you pulling away resulted in you crashing onto the wood floor, with Alex following, landing on top of you with an almost comical oof. You groaned under him, a bit of pain coming from his weight, as well as the contact your body had made with the hard floor. There was barely a moment to register said pain, as the two of you wrestled on the floor for a bit, somehow bringing the blankets with you across the room within the struggle. You eventually yielded to your boyfriend, far too out of breath from laughter and effort to fight any longer, and also knowing you were making too much noise.

“I win.”

“Yeah, I think that happens when you give the other person a concussion.” You sarcastically replied, wincing when you tried to sit up. Alex’s eyebrows drew up in concern, but you stopped him. “I’m just kidding, Alex. But that fall did kinda hurt. You’re fucking heavy.”

“It’s all my muscles.” He grinned, letting you go to lay next to you. You pinched his bicep as he moved over.

“Yeah, these chicken arms are so strong.” You teased, and he scoffed again in feigned offence.

“You know, I’ll remember that the next time you’re drunk and you don’t want to walk home from the pub,” He pointed a finger at you, which your response was point your own at him. Except, you know, the middle one. “Ohh, you’re so sweet, darling.” He cooed. You rolled over to straddle his waist, taking his position from earlier. Alex rested his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. It was a curiosity how this man didn’t get whatever he wanted when he was capable of looking at you the way he did. “Please can we go somewhere tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you finally agreed, and he sat up in excitement, making you slide down to his lap. You rested your hands on his shoulders. “Somewhere fun though. Not a fancy restaurant.”

“What about a… lower grade restaurant?”

“Alex…” He responded to your small whine with your own name in the same tone, tilting his head with the cutest puppy dog eyes in the world.

“I don’t like restaurants either, but we can get the food to go. I’ll take you to that park you like, with the botanical gardens,” he pouted. “Come on, I’ll pick you a flower or some romantic crap like that.”

“I don’t think those flowers are meant for picking, sweetheart,” His only response was a mischievous grin. You should have known better than to even try to say anything opposing his plans. You weren’t ever going to really say no in the first place; why would you reject any amount of time spent with your boyfriend? Especially when he was being uncharacteristically romantic, or at least romantic in his own way. “I suppose we can go.”

“Good,” His smile turned soft. “Now I really won’t be able to sleep.”

--

The next day, Alex burst into your apartment after you had gotten home from work. Literally right after. You had barely taken off your shoes.

“Sometimes I regret giving you a key to my flat.” Your hands gripped at the sofa you were leaning on, recovering from the minor heart attack he had given you from his sudden appearance.

“Why? I thought you liked me.” He teased, grabbing onto your waist from the side. Your eyes softened as you took in his appearance, dressed in your favorite combination of the approximately six options in clothes he had; a green sweatshirt, denim jacket, topped by his leather jacket.

“I like you very much, Alex.” your voice was almost dreamy as you said it, locking eyes with him for a moment too long. Your boyfriend shifted a little, seeming to get nervous and glancing down before he spoke.

“We best get going soon, huh?” The sudden change of subject made you swallow hard, worried you’d ruined something at his now fidgety state. You nodded and mumbled something about changing before rushing off to your room. That was weird, and the sudden shift in mood from Alex meant something was either wrong, or you had made him uncomfortable somehow. Great. Not like that won’t haunt you the rest of the night. Totally.

As soon as you emerged from your room, clothes changed and forcibly pushing down what had happened a moment ago, Alex seemed back to his regular, excited self, throwing you a grin that encouraged you to file the moment ago in the back of your mind. Along with how clammy his palm felt when he slid his fingers between yours. Maybe he was still anxious in relation to everything he said last night.

There was only a brief separation of touch as you both slid into the Mini Cooper. Key into ignition, gear shift in reverse; Alex threw his arm over the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking lot, stopping briefly with his foot on the brake to press a kiss to your cheek before switching gears and heading out onto the road. His hand soon landed in its regular affectionate spot on your thigh as he drove, turning up his favorite album so the two of you could sing along, your off-key screaming going in and out as you got swept up in random conversations. When it was warm enough, Alex would roll all the windows down, and you’d cruise forever until you end up parked in the shadows somewhere to make out like teenagers. It was torturous how much you loved him; how happy he made you feel. You hoped you made him feel the same way.

The oh-so romantic meal for the night were greasy chips to share, probably detrimental for your intestines later, and sandwiches from the place you both frequented often, as it was almost the exact middle distance between your flats. As per tradition, the two of you ate on the bench outside, as the weather was a little chilly as dusk approached, but not cold enough yet to scare you off. The two of you talked about the usual as you ate, jumping from topic to topic with the ease of trapeze artists, supporting each other with interest as you went. Alex was smiling far more than usual, especially when the two of you were talking about work of all things, and the way his eyes followed your every movement squeezed your heart just the same as his hugs did after a few days apart. Whatever was on his mind was clearly tinging his behavior, and you definitely could tell, with the other signals from other, something was up with him. You just didn’t know what.

What followed your dinner was another car ride, as the gardens you loved were too far of a walking distance. And although it wasn’t a long distance when driving, you were still anxious to get out as soon as you got there, throwing open the door mere seconds after Alex parked the car.

The gardens were fairly empty, but not totally so; a few people roamed about here and there, but they were mostly adults. Alex trailed close behind you as you began to explore, surveying all the new plants that had been added since the last time you’d been able to visit.

“I should’ve brought a camera,” he mentions as you study a patch of dahlias, maroons and oranges beautiful in the soft light of the scattered lampposts around the gardens. “You’re so pretty.” The last comment was softer than his first, amplified by his sudden presence next to you, an arm slipping around your waist. You glanced over to meet his gaze, already stuck on you, tilting your head just so. Something was definitely going on with him. But knowing Alex, he wasn’t telling you for a reason, so it’d be best to just let him get to whatever it is on his own. In all honesty, his tone had struck you silent, and you didn’t know what to say. A kiss on his jaw replaced any words you could’ve forced out of your mouth.

The two of you stuck to the other’s sides as you continued to stroll through the gardens, conversing about both the flowers and whatever tangential topic struck your thoughts.

Eventually, you ended up sitting on a bench next to your favorite flowers of the night, the honeysuckle. Something about them was drawing you towards them, and Alex had insisted you sit for a while and talk. His jacket had found its way to your shoulders a while ago, due to the slight shiver you had experienced a few times from a breeze that was a bit too strong, and your boyfriend immediately jumping on the idea that, god forbid, you were a bit too cold. He would never admit it, but sometimes he was very protective of your comfort level. It was sweet.

You were busy looking up at the stars which were growing brighter as the night wore on when Alex called your name softly. His hand slipped into yours again, beginning to play with your fingers like he always did when something was bothering him.

“You know,” he paused, looking down at his lap and seeming very interested in watching his thumb stroke and rub gently over your knuckles. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best boyfriend over the past year… I know I’m temperamental and annoying sometimes—”

“Alex,” you stopped him with a gentle smile. “Like I told you last night, you’re my favorite person. No conditions and no buts.” He still wouldn’t look at you, so you took the opportunity to brush his hair from his face to know you were listening attentively. “What is it?”

“I just—” He sighed, his shoulders readjusting as he sat up and finally turned his head to you. “I really love you.” His eyes were full of worry as he made his confession, and all you could do is squeeze his hand in reply with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’ve never really committed to someone before, so I’ve just been… really worried about telling you. I don’t know. I know you like me, every logical part of my brain shows me that. I know I would be devastated if you left. I just—I worry you don’t wanna be stuck with someone like me sometimes. Especially when my flatmates barely tolerate me. I don’t know how you manage to all the time.”

“It’s not something I have to think about, I just do,” you shrugged. Your brain was working on mostly auto-pilot at his words, the confession spreading warmth through your body like wildfire. “I love you, idiot. Of course I love you.” A grin spread across Alex’s face at your words, both in relief and in affection. Before you could add on to your statement, he rushed forward to smother you in an excited kiss, his hand slipping up to cradle your jaw. And then he repeated the motion, a few times over, a punctuation to his confession, and a release of worry.

“Fuck.” He murmured as he pulled away for the last time. You furrowed your eyebrows in question, as he tore his eyes away from you to lean over and pluck a honeysuckle flower from next to the bench.

“Alex, I wasn’t kidding when I said that’s not what those are for—"

“Be quiet, baby, I’m being romantic,” he shushed, tucking the flower gently above your ear. You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped from you and caused you to tilt your head; just a bit too much, as the flower drifted into your lap. Alex let out another curse and carefully slipped it back to where it was, eyeing it like a disobedient dog. “I was gonna do that before I told you.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s still cute now,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead before standing and tugged on the hand joined with yours. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the flower police arrest you for theft.”

“Please, they’d never catch us. I wouldn’t let them,” he scoffed, playing along. “Besides, we’re too cute to be prosecuted.”

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It’s Just a Movie: Part 5 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter  Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing, the boys are assholes in this chapter

Word count: 1706

Before David could send Marko out for food, and before he could offer you the joint, you interrupted them. You had to tell them now, before you were high, before they played any tricks on you, and before David decided to make you their second course or to have you drink from the bottle. And, while they were all together. Telling them all of this once was going to be painful enough, and you didn't want to have to reexplain everything when Marko came back. So, you said rather quickly and nervously,

"I actually- I have to tell you guys something." David gave you a confused glance, his hand moving from your arm to the center of your back. It seemed that he was going to lead you towards the couch, to do whatever they had done in-between scenes of the movie. He arched a brow, and you knew that no matter how you said this it was going to sound crazy. But they were vampires, so, really, how bad could it be? That was the only way you could assure yourself as you started. "Y'know how I said I wasn't from here?" You said, and David stared at you like he wanted you to get to the point. Paul hopped off the fountain, just like he had in the movie, and passed David the joint.

"Yeah?" Paul said, turning as if he was going to head towards Marko. Before David could cloud his mind, you took it from his hand. Out of all of them, you were worried about David the most, and you didn't need him getting the munchies. You passed it back to Paul, and he gave you a weird look as he took another hit. David looked at you, giving you a small frown.

"Well, that's kind of an understatement." You said, and you grabbed Davids arm to start to pull him towards the couch. It was the most assertive you had been that night, and with David nonetheless? It caught the attention of the other three fairly quickly, and they hovered as you gently pulled him towards his wheelchair and said, "You're gonna wanna sit down for this. All of you." He seemed a little confused, and you guessed it was because how would you have guessed that this was his chair? Well, you knew that this was only the tip of the iceberg of things you knew about them. You glanced back at the others. Paul and Dwayne were standing atop of the fountain, hovering a few feet away while Marko let the pigeon he was holding leave his hands. They seemed to sense your change in mood, or perhaps they were wary because you were telling David of all people what to do. After a moment, the two tallest of the bunch jumped off the fountain and Marko strolled over. Paul, seeming to try to keep the mood light, laughed and said,

"What, you gonna tell us you're a martian or something?" He asked, and you laughed faintly. Honestly, he wasn't far off. Paul sat on a chunk of wall, while Dwayne chose to sit on the couch. Marko stood behind David, and, finally, David settled in his chair. You almost thought about sitting on the fountain, but the similarity to the bottle scene freaked you out too much. You decided to stand, and you tried to say this in the least crazy way you could.

"Uh, no. I'm- God, how do I put this?" You said, running a frustrated hand through your hair. It sounded ridiculous even in your own head. And, it wasn't like you'd gotten much time to adjust to the situation. You started with what you knew. "Where I'm from- all of this, all of you," You said, gesturing around the cave, "Is apart of a movie. The Lost Boys." You said, putting air-quotes around the title. The boys were staring at you, and Paul almost looked like he wanted to laugh. Marko stared, almost squinting his eyes. It seemed like he was trying to see if you were lying, but you couldn't really tell. Dwayne was too far away for you to read his face, but it wasn't like you'd be able to anyways. And David? His usual grin and chatter completely disappeared. You continued before you could completely become a bundle of nerves. "It came out in 1987, and me and my friends went to see it at our local theater for halloween. But when I came out...Well, I was here. In Santa Carla." The silence that followed made you deathly afraid of what they were going to do next, and then Marko scoffed.

"Yeah, right." He said, and, after a beat, Paul was snickering. He pointed at you, a wide grin on his face.

"Y'know, for a second, you had me going there. Are you strung out or something?" Paul said, and you scrambled for a semblance of proof. You needed something solid- something not from their time. You were quick to fumble into your pocket and pull out something definitely not found in the eighties.

"I can prove it! Look!" You said, and you quickly opened your phone. You didn't see it, but the boys face switched back to either confusion or interest. You went to your screenshots, after adjusting your brightness, showing them the barcode and the movie title from your online ticket. There, in a little picture above the barcode and next to the movie title was the classic movie poster.

While the blondes were in the far back and definitely too far to see, David was not. He was the dead center next to the giant image of Michael. His spiky blonde hair and piercing eyes were unmistakable, even with how small the picture was. David silently reached out to take the device from your hand. He looked at your phone, and then scoffed and shook his head.

"What is this even supposed to be?" He asked, laughing as he showed your phone to the others. They weren't even looking at the picture, and were instead taking turns investigating your phone. They seem particularly interested, and bewildered, by the little rectangle. You supposed they would be, as the smart phone wouldn't be coming out until the turn of the century. You let out a groan of frustration, and you tried to snatch it back. But Marko, who had been holding it next, held it out of your reach. He gave you a wide smile as he did so, and the situation reminded you far too much of the phonebooth. Only, he didn't give it back a second later this time.

"That's- that's my phone. You're supposed to look at the picture- that's my ticket to the movie-" You said, trying desperately to explain. You knew it sounded crazy, and that it would take some difficulty to explain. But it wasn't like they were making it particularly easy on you.

"Movie ticket? Honey, whatever that is, it isn't a movie ticket." Paul laughed, and suddenly you wanted to strangle all of them. You knew, of course, that to them this wasn't anything close. Movie tickets still probably came in stubs or something. Now, you understood why Michael had actually punched David. You didn't know if they were doing it on purpose or not, but those boys could be infuriating when they wanted to be.

"Good job picking someone crazy, Paul." Marko said, and the insult, while not directed at you, still riled you up. You weren't crazy, and this wasn't a joke. His statement made more than one thing clear. They not only thought all of this was bullshit, but they had definitely planned on eating you tonight. And that Paul had been the one to pick you out. It made you sick. But it also made you even more certain that you had to convince them. Paul was quick to defend himself by saying,

"Hey, David said to pick someone hot and I did. How was I supposed to know-" But you quickly drowned him out. It seems the movie ticket wasn't going to be enough proof, so you pulled out your wallet instead. You took out your license, and practically shoved it in Davids face.

"Read my birth year. Read the expiration date. I'm from the year 2020, you assholes." You said, but the boys were barely paying attention. Your claim only made Paul crack up, and Marko didn't help by adding, 

"Oh, so you're a time traveler now? Bullshit, stick to a story." He said, and Paul only erupted in another fit of laughter. It didn't help that Dwayne and David had started chuckling along, even when the proof was right in his face. And it especially didn't help when David said,

"Nice picture." And made the boys behind him utterly explode. Suddenly, you understood Michael more than ever. Being surrounded by four friends, laughing at you? This was your maggot scene, you realized. You were clearly alarmed and distressed, and yet? They were just laughing. And just like in the movie, once they all calmed down a bit David said, "Sorry about that. No hard feelings, hm?" But all you could do was stare at them as his grin remained on his face. You were embarrassed and infuriated beyond belief. You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a humorless laugh. They were going to kill you. You had landed in the Lost Boys universe and your four favorite vampires were going to kill you. You couldn't stop the laughs that escaped your mouth, even as the other boys quieted down completely. You could feel tears prickling the corners of your eyes as the realization washed over you. And you couldn't stop yourself from saying,

"You know what? This is really funny. Yeah, especially coming from you guys." You turned away from them. You couldn't stand to look at them, not when you were sure that you were going to start to cry. You took a few steps away, another empty laugh leaving your lips as you shook your head. "A bunch of fucking vampires, laughing at me for being from a different dimension. Yeah, this is so fucking-"

"What did you just say?"

[snelbz]

Light Up the Ice - Chapter 9

A/N: Well. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, guys, but this story just...wasn’t coming to me for a while. But now we’re back and I am so excited. Since it has been over a year and a half since I updated this one, please forgive us if there are a few details that aren’t perfect from the first chapters. Feels good to be writing my babies again.

Written with @tacmc.

Rowan woke up to the smell of cooking bacon and fresh coffee and he sighed contentedly. It had been two days since the hit that put him out of commission. He was hoping the rest and relaxation he’d enjoyed with his girlfriend would handle it, but it seemed that his body was protesting its natural healing process.

He groaned as he rolled out of Aelin’s bed, smiling when he found Lumi curled up in the hoodie he’d left in her chair in the corner. After giving her a scratch behind the ears, though the cat pretended he didn’t exist, he padded out into the living room, finding Aelin at the stove quietly humming to herself.

“Good morning,” he said, yawning as he pulled out a bar stool and sat down.

Aelin turned, and he was once agIn floored by how gorgeous she was, straight out of bed. That first night, when the fire alarms had pulled them all from sleep, he’d been convinced she’d scrambled to do her makeup before coming out onto the lawn. Waking up next to her two days in a row had proven to him that she was naturally beautiful and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Good morning,” she smiled and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. “Hurting today?”

“Aye,” he said, stretching his arms in the air. He felt every muscle tense in his upper body and before he could say the words, Aelin beat him to it.

“I think you need to give the team trainer a call today,” she said, placing a plate full of bacon on the counter next to her.

Rowan stared at it, wanting to reach over and snag a piece, but was fairly sure she’d catch him when he grunted in pain trying to lift it. Plus, she was dumping nearly a dozen eggs into a skillet to scramble, so he was hoping she’d be feeding him soon enough. He nodded. “I was going to do that today. I was texting with him last night and he said he and the massage therapist could come here today.”

Aelin smiled. “That would be perfect. I have to go

to work in about an hour, so I’ll feel better knowing someone is here with you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You do know I’m a grown man, right? Lived on my own for about seven years?”

Aelin stuck out her tongue and continued cooking at the stove, before setting a plate down in front of him piled high with eggs, hashbrowns and crispy bacon.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” He asked, as she slid onto the stool next to him.

She smirked and said, “Once or twice, but don’t worry. I’ve got a drunk voicemail to listen to if I ever forget.”

She winked and Rowan felt his cheeks heat, but regardless, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to eat.

After his second full helping breakfast, Aelin got Rowan set up on the couch, babying him the entire time, much to his dismay, and he sent a text to the trainer asking him to call him when he got to the arena that morning. Aelin was getting ready and Rowan was playing NHL on his Xbox when the trainer finally called him back.

“Hey, man,” Rowan answered, pausing the game and propping the phone between his ear and shoulder.

Dorian’s voice came through the receiver. “How ya feeling?”

Rowan groaned as he rotated one of his shoulders. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

With a snort, Dorian chuckled. “Have you seen most of the Pirates’ team? They’re ridiculous; all of them are huge, freaks of nature. Rolfe is no exception.”

With a nod, Rowan cringed. He hadn’t realized the captain of the Skull’s Bay Pirates had been the one to lay the hit on him. “Well, whenever you and Sorscha have time, I’d appreciate it if you could make a house call.” There was silence on the other side of the line. “Dor?”

“Sorscha’s last day was Thursday of last week, I had no clue you didn’t know,” he explained. “The new therapist started yesterday.”

“Oh.” Sorscha had been the team’s massage therapist for years and Rowan vaguely remembered rumors that she’d be leaving them. He just never had them confirmed. “That’s fine, how’s the new guy?”

“She is...a piece of work,” Dorian admitted with a sigh. “You’ll meet her when we come by. You free for us to head that way?”

“Yeah, man, the sooner you get me back in working order, the sooner I can get back on the ice,” Rowan replied, debating on saying something about the home game they had that night.

With a chuckle, Dorian said, “Don’t even think about it, man. You’re not playing tonight. We’ll leave in just a bit and see you soon.”

The call ended and Rowan dropped his phone on the couch. He looked at the clock and hollered, “What time are you off tonight, Ace?”

She poked her head out of her bedroom and said, “Four o’clock, why?”

“Wanna go to the game with me?”

Aelin blinked at him. “You aren’t playing, Ro.”

“No,” he said, standing and stretching - and groaning. “But we can go sit in the player’s box and watch.”

“You want to sit next to me for an entire hockey game and hear my commentary?” She asked, grinning.

Rowan’s grin matched hers as he held out a hand, stepping towards her. She placed her hand in his and he gently pulled her towards him. “I promise I won’t be thinking too much about the game with you there with me.”

Aelin ran her palms down Rowan’s chest. “Well, that’s a tough argument.”

Rowan’s grin widened as he leaned down to kiss her. “You’ll go with me then?”

Aelin nibbled on her lip as she nodded. “If you get your ass on the couch and promise to take it easy today.”

He groaned softly. “Fine. If that’s what it takes.”

“Thank you,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him once more and turning back to finish getting ready. “You also have to make an appointment with your trainer.”

“He’s on his way with the sports therapist now,” Rowan said, watching her walk back to her room, enjoying every step she took. He really did try to focus on more than just her ass, but the leggings she wore weren’t helping his cause. When she looked back at him as she paused in the doorway, he had just enough time that she didn’t catch him - not that he thought she’d mind.

“Looks like we’ve got a game to go to then,” she winked, and disappeared into the bedroom.

About thirty minutes after Aelin left for the café, Rowan’s phone rang. “Hey, man. You here?”

His trainer and friend’s usually cheery voice was distinctly pissy. “Open up, Whitethorn. I’ve been knocking on your door for two minutes.”

“Oh, shit.” Rowan was up on his feet with a quiet grunt and ran to the door throwing it open. Dorian stood in front of his own apartment door, down the hall. He called, “Sorry, man, I’m staying with my girlfriend.”

Dorian’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re Aelin’s boyfriend?”

Rowan paused and blinked. “Uh, aye? You know her?”

“I grew up with her, we’ve been friends for years,” Dorian said, the light tone returning. “I told the therapist your apartment number and she’s grabbing her table from the car. I should probably call her-.”

“No, it’s fine, I need to grab a few things from my place anyways,” he shrugged, grabbing his keys off the small table by the door. “We can set up in there so I don’t have to move Aelin’s furniture around.”

Dorian snorted. “Good call.”

Rowan unlocked his apartment and let Dorian in, turning on the lights and carefully moving things out of the way. Painfully.

He grabbed one of his least destroyed game worn jerseys and tossed it over his shoulder. He very much wanted to see her wearing it. “Aelin’s coming to the game tonight,” he said, grinning.

Dorian shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

Rowan’s grin only widened.

“Hey, uh, can I come in and see Fleetfoot?” Dorian asked, looking out toward the hallway.

Rowan blinked and said, “I mean, sure.”

They headed back down the hall to Aelin’s apartment, leaving Rowan’s door open for the therapist to carry her gear in. As soon as they entered the apartment, Fleetfoot was bounding towards Dorian, excited like Rowan had never seen her.

Glancing up at Rowan while he rubbed her belly, Dorian grinned. “I gave her to Aelin our junior year of college. I promised if she got all A’s on her finals, I’d get her puppy. Guess who got straight A’s the entire semester?”

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh, smiling and shaking his head. “Sounds about right.”

Dorian’s phone chimed and he stood, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Oh she’s all set up and ready for you. Just head back down here when you’re done and we’ll talk about getting you on the ice again.”

“Aye, sounds good,” Rowan said and left, heading for his own apartment. The door was shut now, but he assumed it was just for privacy. He’d had to get sports massages before. They were basically a glorified regular massage. They focused on specific muscles groups, some quite intimate and quite awkward, but for the most part the etiquette was the same.

A dim room, quiet music or white noise of some sort, a special table covered in a white sheet, and the fact that you typically undress and are under just a towel.

Suddenly, Rowan froze with his hand halfway extended toward his doorknob, as he realized he was about to essentially be naked, alone in his apartment, with a woman he’d never met, as she rubbed her hands all over his body.

He’d had to get sports massages before. Just never while he’d had a girlfriend.

Maybe he should ask Dorian to come in and talk while she worked on him.

With a sigh, Rowan realized he was overthinking things. This was her job and he was judging her before he’d even met her. She was probably extremely professional and he was worrying for no reason.

With a shake of his head, he entered his apartment and asked, “Hello?”

A young woman rounded the corner, wiping her damp hands on a paper towel. Her long, black hair was braided back, and by the time her obsidian eyes met Rowan’s, he was frozen in place. For a moment, she didn’t react, and Rowan couldn’t breathe.

And then her eyes lit up and a small grin spread on her thin, red lips. His blood ran cold. He swallowed. “Maeve. What...the hell are you doing here?”

“Ah, Rowan Whitethorn,” she cooed. “We meet again.”