#also we get random text now cause i need to fill space

[lilypixels]

and with that, the baby shower is concluded

[sfwregressionfanfictions]

Dean Winchester X Little! Reader: LD PT2

WC: 1882

Summary: An online dating app leads to a long-distance relationship.

A/N: Why does wifi suck? Also why does college give you no personal space to write??????

Part 1. Part 2

Dean was attached to his phone and computer like a high schooler. He adored having a little one he was getting to know. He recently sent a package containing a paci, a onesie, a tiara, and a few other trinkets and toys. The little one really needed to be more cautious about giving out their address as they did with him. 

Cases had currently been at a standstill. So Dean was allowed to stay at home all day and talk to the age regressor he had come to care for. He learned so much in such a short time about the little artist, they told him about their family, how they work as a little bakery, and how they were scared of the closing shift. He felt bad about lying or not telling the full truth to them, but it was for their safety. 

But how badly he wanted to tell them and let them know and trust him. He wanted to fully commit to the little and be their caregiver. He wanted nothin more than that. He missed taking care of someone so small and in need of protection, now that Sam was grown, he didn’t have that.

A ding from his phone interrupted his pining. It was a text from the little one.

Y/N: Good morning! I’m in charge of the bakery today! So I have to bake, wish you could try it :((

Dean: Good morning, Sweetheart. That’s so exciting! I wish I could try it too, what are you baking today?

Y/N: Gonna make macaroons, cookies, pies, and cakes. Gotta make so much, but it’s okay. Cause it will be fun. 

Dean: That sounds like so much fun, bet they are gonna be so yummy! Maybe one day you could teach me how to bake?

Y/N: YES YESYESYES!!! Does that mean you are gonna come see me? 

A pause just for a moment, hesitation filled the air.

Y/N: Or I could visit you? You wouldn’t even have to travel.

Dean: Maybe, how about we talk about it after you finish working?

Y/N: Okay, talk to you at 6?

Dean: Talk to you then, have a good day baby

(Y/N) tried to continue their day like they weren’t nervous, however, they were unable to keep the act up long. Their hands shook with nerves, he was probably gonna say no most likely. 

Although they were doing something they love, time seems to barely move. The hours were dragging and it was hard to focus due to the nerves. They tried their best to focus as to prevent any mistakes, they wanted the owner of the small bakery to like them. The owner was an older woman, who was like a grandmother to everyone in the store. 

Soon the clock struck 5, it was time for them to clean up and go home. They would clean up the mess they made while cooking, and clock out at 5:30. Then walk home and hopefully be home by 6. The path wasn’t long, they just usually go distracted by random stuff on their walk home, at one point they had sat on a bench on the walk home to gawk at a rather hairy man, as they believed he may be a werewolf. 

Y/N: Heading home now! Talk to you soon. 

Dean smiled at his phone as he cooked bacon to go on top of the burger he was making. He had a day full of contemplation and planning and recontemplation. Should he stay or should he go?

Dean: Good, now be safe on your way home. 

The walk home was short, with very few distractions. How could they be distracted at a time like this? They were in a hurry. They arrived back at their beat-up small apartment quickly, only stopping to unlock the door and grab the large box on their doorstep. Usually having a box at their doorstep would bring them extreme excitement, however now they had to call Dean.

Ringggg… Ringggg… Ring….

Dean was quick to answer, nearly ripping his pocket off his jacket. It was playing the special tone that he set for (Y/N), as he didn’t want to answer the phone all grumpy like he did the first time they called. Meaning they got home and wanted to talk to him.

“Hey Buba,” Dean answered, making weird wobbles in his voice. He knew he did a good job when a giggle floated through the phone.

“Hi.” It was shorter than their usual enthusiastic greeting, which cause some concern to bubble in Dean’s stomach. “I got a big box at my door, it was hard to carry.”

“Wish I could have helped you with that, why don’t you open it where the arrow is pointing? Maybe there is a surprise in there for you.” Dean smiled at the thought of them still in their work clothes, about to be small and bouncing.

“Arrow?” There was a pause, “You sent me this?”

“I did.” Dean answered, knowing he was about to have to reassure big (Y/N) that it wasn’t a big deal, “ before you start saying anything about this, it was nothing. I wanted to get you a gift, don’t try being all ‘oh you shouldn’t have.’. I did it, and I will do it again.”

“I-” They paused, “Thank you, I’ll get my box cutter and open it.”

He smiled as he heard them beginning to rustle to find the box cutter. They seemed excited or nervous to see what was in the box.

“Gonna be careful right?” Dean asked once they made a sound that he would consider success. 

“Ye, no touching the pointy parts.” They respond obviously absorbed in the thought of a gift, that they were aware was most likely for little (Y/N).

“I wish I could see your face when you open the gifts.” He smiled, as he hears the light slicing of tape, and them struggling with the box to open the edge that wasn’t cut completely. “You gonna read the note first?”

“Ye,” They spoke, beginning the note with a loud and proud voice, but slowly going quieter and mumbling as they began regressing. They were always shy about how hard reading could be when they were small. 

“Open the gifts now baby.” Dean prompts, as they finished the card. The sound of the newspaper being removed from the box was louder than he thought it would be. 

“You got me a paci?” They sounded choked up as they stared at the design. The design was Siren-like, and it had the words “little monster” on the handle.

“Yeah, do you like it? Should be a few other things in there too…” Dean asked hopefully.

“Yeah, didn’t need to do all this…” (Y/N) mumbled over the phone.

“But I wanted to, how about you try on the gifts and we can maybe have a talk?” He wanted to talk about the possibility of him visiting them. 

The atmosphere in (Y/N)’s apartment deflated quickly at the mention of the dreaded conversation was brought up. They had believed for a moment that everything was perfect between the pair. However, he was preparing them for his big no.

“Oh yeah, umm we can talk, yeah.” Their voice was less childlike and more anxious.

“Baby, it is okay, this talk isn’t gonna be bad.” Dean replied quickly, trying to calm the obviously stressing little.

“Okay, can we talk about it now?” They said, just wanting it to be over.

“Of course baby,” Dean says as he opens his computer that he was looking at routes on, “what does your schedule look like for the next few weeks?” 

“Mmm Nothing only working,” They replied, picking their thumbs.

“Okay, how would you feel if I left tomorrow and got to see you in about 2 days?” Dean asked.

“Wait.” They paused almost processing what was being said. “What?”

“Obviously it could be sooner or later depending on traffic, would it be okay if I slept at your place? It would be like a little sleepover.” Dean continued knowing they would register what he was saying soon enough.

“YES YES YES YES!!!” They screamed, only to stop, “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell. Thought you were gonna say no. 

With that conversation completed, (Y/N) was quick to regress and babble about all the stuff they would do together. Dean was packing as they spoke as he would have an early morning. It was all simple and little (Y/N) even started cleaning, it wasn’t much just putting some of their toys away. They stayed on the phone until (Y/N) fell asleep.

The next morning came quickly, Dean was already on the road by the time the sun was up. It was unheard of for him to be awake even a few hours after the sun is up, but today was different. He wasn’t being the safest going quite a bit over the speed limit, but he just couldn’t help it. He would text sweetheart at stops, when he filled up for gas, took a bathroom break, or was getting snacks/souvenirs from each state he went through. Both days were like this although the second contained more bouncing in his seat and fewer stops.

(Y/N) spent the two days working and stress cleaning. They swept and mopped their floors three times, and dusted them twelve times. While at work they asked for the first day Dean would be there off and the owner hearing how excited they were, gave them a week of paid time off. The owner stated something about only being young once and young love, (Y/N) was too excited to correct her. They were only friends, for now at least. 

The day had come when Dean would arrive, he called saying he’d arrive around 1 pm. That means they woke up at 5 am to clean everything twelve times again, and run to the store to get actual food and ingredients, so as to not force Dean to eat fast food and microwave meals.

With their grocery bags on the counter, half of the food was already put away when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t even 12 pm, the first thing that passed their mind was that there was no way that it was Dean already. But their feet moved on their own, and the door swung open before they though to check who it was. There a man stood, he was tall with slightly spiked hair, he had a ‘Joey’ from friend’s smile. 

“Sweetheart?” Their voice died in their throat, eyes began to water slightly as they stared at the man that was acting as their platonic caregiver and honestly best friend. Rather than speaking, (Y/N) threw themself into his chest sobbing out of join. 

“Dean… “ was all that managed to excape them, as they clung to him. He clung back seeing the person he came to life made him cry in joy. If anyone asked he would say it was simply allergies.

They sat in the hall and hugged for longer than any two friends should. Neighbors stopped to stare as they walked passed, but Dean and (Y/N) only saw each other. 

[sobredunia]

Hey u should tell me oc lore ok? ok we can exchange oc lore like uh. uhm. like. we can exchange. like telling stories around a campfire yeah thats it. yeah. yay

okay so i started writing this and then i had to go to sleep and now that I wake up in the morning tumblr has eaten the entire fucking ask. thankfully i decided to copypaste it on a drive folder but fucking christ i did a lot of text and tumblr eated it all and didnt even care :(

This started out remotely normal and I ended up writing it like fanfiction lmao

(TW: cannibalism (?), death, mentions of alcohol consumption)

Okay so there's this guy named Charcoal, he's a fox that can turn into a human :D. He's been alive for a very long time, causing mischief be it through good actions or bad actions just to see what would happen. Although he can easily blend in with the humans, he changes his aspect to show more fox-like features just to see how they'd react. Most of the towns he's been in either consider him a small god to pray and make offers to or a threat that needs to be eliminated (but he's always faster, always smarter. he knows humans all too well)

The years pass and pass, and he's decided that he's gonna enter this one city looking like a starved and sad teenage boy, trying to see if these humans are foolish enough that they'll treat him kindly

They don't

He begs for money on the streets and no one gives him anything. He begs for food in restaurants that are about to take out the trash and no one gives him anything. He begs other homeless people to make space for one more in their makeshift huts and no one does

The bigger the city, the ruder the people, he's noticed

Eventually, he just pickpockets someone and goes to a random bar to get at least a bit happy before sleeping somewhere as a fox. He'll go to a different city tomorrow

"Are you sure you're old enough for a drink?"

The bar is run by an old man that looks like he should've retired more than a decade ago

This was the most compassion Charcoal had been shown in the entire city, so he decided he'd try to play his role just a bit more

"Psh- of course!" He says in a tone that makes it seem like he's lying, and then slides the coins he stole over to him

The old man frowns, before going under the bar and pouring the drink he had asked for, and then retrieving the coins

He takes a sip, and notices that it's a non alcoholic drink. Still, he technically gave him what he asked for, so he can't complain. He can appreciate a fellow trickster

The two engage in conversation, Charcoal coming up with a sob story about how he's an orphan that escaped a cruel orphanage and is now looking for refuge in an unknown part of the city. He also sees how the old man engages with the other clients, remembering their names and preferred drinks and how much they had all drank, knowing when to stop pouring them glasses. Despite some rude and some annoying customers, the old man dealt with them with patience and appropriate responses, and he always gave a listening ear to any who needed them. Charcoal was definitely impressed

Once everyone had had their fill, the old man shooed them out, all but Charcoal

He offered him a job and a place to stay, living in his house that was over the bar and working as a barista or when he wasn't able to work due to age

"Isn't it illegal to work while you're this old?"

"As long as none of the clients snitch, it doesn't matter. And it's not like you're living a very lawful life yourself"

He cackled. "You got me there"

When Charcoal went to sleep, he decided he'd keep up the bit for just a few more days, just to see what it's like to be a bartender, and maybe snatch all the money in the register once he bails out and goes someplace else

He did not, in fact, stay there for "just a few more days"

He hated to admit it, but he'd actually grown attached to that old man and the barista lifestyle. It was fun listening to stories and breaking or starting fights. He also began to gradually change his appearance, to simulate the concept of growing up. When the old man began to teach him how to pour and mix drinks and what the regulars' preferences were, it genuinely felt like an honor, and his days of aimless wandering and pranks and thievery were long behind him

And then tragedy struck

The old man had a heart attack

He had actually written a will. A will where he left everything he had to Charcoal, the closest thing he'd ever had to family

It actually hurt

He actually wanted to cry

He had been alive for years and years, and this was the one time he had cared so much about someone. Not as a human, but as a person

He decided he'd continue running the bar, to honor him

He wasn't so sure why he did that so determined. But he did

But it wasn't the same without him there

He started to lose regulars and newcomers alike, leaving the bar nearly empty most nights

On a rather populated night, though, he met a certain someone

Someone like him

An animal that could turn into a human

A hare. Chalk was his name

He looked like any other person, although he was rather insistent on keeping his hat on

They didn't recognise eachother for what they were. Not right away, anyway. It was only when he saw a bit of a hare ear poking out from under the hat that he realised

They hit it off right away after that, happy to not be the only ones. Charcoal offered a job as a bartender, like the old man had done all those years ago. He took it, because why not

He was far far younger than him, in his 20s. He still had that bit of respect for human rules and didn't view them as distanced from him as Charcoal did. It was probably a thing that came with age. There were still plenty of humans older than him, after all, and he had next to no life experience

Money wasn't exactly an issue. If they wanted, they could just steal some, but Charcoal knew that's not what the old man would have wanted. He wanted to try living clean. For at least a while. But the bar just kept on losing clients

And then, the straw that broke the camel's back

Charcoal was out in the back, about to throw a trash bag into the larger container, when he noticed something in it

A corpse

A young woman's corpse

He panicked. Someone must've dumped her there after killing her

He couldn't let the body be discovered here. If it did, it would be the final nail in the coffin for the bar, and they would have to close it for good. No one wants to go drink in a place where they murdered a young lady

So, in a panic, he retrieved the corpse and put it inside the bar, locking the door

Chalk panicked when he entered the kitchen and saw the scene

"What the fuck did you do!?"

Charcoal hurriedly explained the scene and the consequences this would have for the establishment if she was found here

"S-so, you want to move her someplace else?"

"No, we can't risk it getting traced to here. Then we'll get in even bigger trouble for having moved it"

"Then what do you suggest we do!?"

"..."

Charcoal took a cleaver and chopped up the body, before turning his mouth into that of a fox, and eating desperately

Charcoal could only watch in horror as his friend ate a human like a rabid beast, turning his hands into claws to rip apart the flesh better

Eventually, he finally stopped being locked in place and left to fill up as a bartender for the two clients they had. Luckily, both of them were too drunk to notice anything. Chalk shooed them out before going back to the kitchen. It was a mess. So was Charcoal. He was too busy licking the bones clean to notice him coming back. Or even leaving in the first place

They cut up the bones even more, before keeping them in a plastic bag to turn into stew later. Things like the skull or the hips were grinded up beyond recognition and thrown out through drains, sinks and toilets, and the two silently agreed to never speak about this again

Besides, they just had to wait around 30 years until the case went cold. What's that to someone who's lived for far longer than that?

At least Charcoal could say that. Chalk was still very disturbed by the whole ordeal. He couldn't really blame him

They pretended not to care when they started seeing the missing person posters

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

It is so fun that there’s one certain fandom nowadays that I spent my time writing fics for.

Yet, the fics that I have noticed have gotten the most ”cult following” is my asoue fics. It is so fun, becuse a lot of those fics are so old by now I barely remember what I myself wrote, but people tell me that scenes from those still live in their heads. Hearing that something little me wrote lives in the heads of people?? That means so much!

I myself often think of my asoue prime time era as being inexperienced, nervous and being unsure if anything I wrote was good. I was so afraid of people judging me for what I wrote - especially because the first asoue fic I posted was a chatfic on FF.net, who after I posted it I got a comment saying ”you can’t post fics like this because chatfics are not real fics and posting it takes away the spotlight from people who write real fics”. So I was so unsure how people on ao3 would react.

I had barely posted fics before, english is not my first language and I got comments that my ”structure” was bad because I kept every scene in a big chunk of a text like it would be in a real book, because to those readers, they needed space between every new dialogue and instead of giving me feedback they just gave me unprompted ”writing advice”… but to stop the complaints, I started slowly leave bigger spaces, but it was also still weirdly structed, basically random smaller chunks paired up with no real pattern. In retrospect, I do agree large chunks of text are a bit annoying in fics, but that’s how it is in normal books and in normal books it’s no problem. I don’t know why it is like that, but anyway nowadays I have a space between every new dialouge… though tbh, I don’t know if I would have preffered to have learn that on my own as I progress as a writer, or like it was now, that I got unprompted writing advice that ”my fic is unreadable” because I had it as a big chunk of text. Unprompted writing advice is rarely appreciated and I think more people need to learn the fandom etiquette that if you haven’t ASKED for constructive critism, don’t give it. Even if you ”mean well”. It’s not fun to be excited to see reader’s reactions and the only thing you get is ”this writing structure is bad”. For me it caused me to change it because I felt ashamed that it was ”unreadable” instead of me figuring it out on my own as I progress my writing skills.

However, comments like that have always been in the minority. Because 90% of it were people being so excited, supportive and wonderful. I was filled with such serotonin. And now, today, I still get so flattered that people even remember what I wrote - cause I’ve posted 80+ fics at this point, I don’t even remember much of the plot in a third of them. I have read fics like that myself that I’ve read and remembered scenes out of so vividly, and I could have only dreamt that people would have thought the same of my fics.

Even if I don’t write that much asoue fics anymore, it still is with me. I have an asoue au right now, which is completely other characters from another fandom simply living the plot of asoue. This far that fic is not that popular yet what I know of, I have not gotten any comments except for one on the first chapter, but I don’t know. Maybe it has a lot of silent readers (even if I prefer comments over anything else). But we will see, maybe it will reach the same cult following one day, or maybe any fic I’ve written for another fandom will.

I’m so happy and sometimes pleasantly surprised that these silly little fics I wrote about these unfortunate characters left such a print on people 🩷

[jujutsubabe]

“This is so pathetic”

Synopsis: In which you and Megumi get really touch starved after not seeing each other for too long 😌

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: reposting this cause the last one got super blocked! It got no likes at all omg

————

You laid in Megumi’s bed squinting up at a textbook you were supposed to be taking notes on. As you stared all the words blurred together the longer you went over them and Itadori’s mumbling as he read aloud made you lose focus.

You sighed before reaching over the bed to tap his head. “Itadori can you please read in your head.”

Nobora clicked her tongue from across the room, “You’re almost an adult and you still can’t read in your head!?”

“I can’t help it, it helps me focus better.” He whined.

“Well if you could, could you just,” you pinched your fingers, “quiet down a little more, I’d love that.”

“If you could read in your head I’d love that.” Nobora grinned.

As Itadori pouted you moved the text book up and down, trying to see if a change in movement would do you better. You squinted, glared, flipped pages, whatever, no matter what the words continued to jumble.

You dropped the book and looked over to Megumi, he sat at his desk effortlessly writing away. It looked as though he did this daily, skimming his eyes over the pages and flipping within seconds. He had filled notes piled all over his desk in messy, but organized stacks.

You turned your head to the few sheets of notes you took, with margins full of doodles. You had to write so much more information.

If only you, Nobora and Itadori hadn’t slacked off all day watching movies, you would be at the same level as him. Or better yet, finished!

You popped some candy Itadori bought into your mouth. You had all been studying for hours, you figured it could be time for a bit of movement.

You hopped over Itadori’s legs to the door, “I’m gonna get a drink from the vending machine, anyone wanna come?”

Nobora shook her head, “I’m good, can you bring two sodas for me though?” She fluttered her eyelashes until you rolled your eyes and held your hand out. She squealed before placing some quarters in your palm. “You can keep the change!”

“Thanks.” With what she gave you, you’d have enough change leftover to throw one penny at someone's car. “Anyone else?”

Megumi stood from his chair while Itadori looked up from his game, “I'll go.” They said at once.

They turned to each other, Itadori’s face full of interest while Megumi’s was full of anything but that. You didn’t like being around people for a long period of time, but he really didn’t like it. Especially when they were in his space for this long.

He did tell them to “go somewhere” but like usual you all didn’t listen and procrastinated all day. Leaving a loud group of teens within Megumi’s quiet space was torture, you swore if you squinted you could see him twitching every time anyone talked.

You looked between the boys, Megumi probably needed an excuse to go outside. You hoped Itadori would somehow get that.

Itadori cocked his head, not reading the room. “Nice! It’ll be the three of us the—”

Before he could finish Megumi already slipped out and slid the door shut, leaving Itadori hanging with his mouth open. Nobora laughed at him.

———————

The two of you walked in silence, Megumi thinking and you in your own little world. The sounds of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement.

He wondered what you were thinking about as you hummed and blew on your hands. Your sweater didn’t have any pockets so you kept pulling your sleeves over them.

“Are you cold?” Megumi asked.

You nodded but continued to rub your hands together, “But we might get caught if we hold hands.”

The two of you were dating. Very secretly, only being romantic whenever you had definite private places to kiss and hold hands. If it was in public it would be you giving a quick peck to his cheek or his hand slipping into yours.

You two wanted it to be a quiet relationship, at least until your friends and teacher happened to catch you guys, which you were both very careful to avoid. He figured as soon as the group found out it would be full of so much chatter and teasing, something you both weren’t too interested in dealing with at the moment.

He flicked his eyes around the building then held his hand out, “No ones here.”

“Are you sure…? What if Gojo comes out of nowhere?” You checked your surroundings as you whispered.

The two of you silently listened for any rustling or footsteps of some kind. He continued to glance at you while your eyebrows pushed together, when you were focused on something he thought you had the sweetest expressions.

Even you looking frustrated made him feel soft, like today when you struggled with that book. It was cute and he couldn’t help but look at you every so often, whenever someone looked back at him he would turn and start writing something random down. He had a few piles of paper with random crap all over it… he really hoped Nobora or Itadori didn’t check his notes while he was gone.

He looked down at the hands by your sides, at this point he didn’t care if the relationship got exposed to everyone.

“Please.” He mumbled.

You pulled on your ears, leaning forward to hear him again. “Huh, what’d you say?”

He squirmed the longer you looked at him. “I didn’t say anything...” he looked away the closer you got to his face.

“You didn’t? I thought I heard you say something.” You backed down, teetering on your toes.

“I…” his tongue tied as he tried to spit out what he wanted to say. It felt like he was confessing to you all over again. He internally groaned as he lost courage to say the words that he felt were too embarrassing to share. “This is so pathetic…”

You grinned, “What are you trying to say? Is it that bad?”

He shook his head, covering his mouth as he circled his brain about how to say his thoughts. Get it together! You two are dating. This shouldn’t be that hard to express, why was he struggling so bad with this?

He glanced down at your hands, flickering his eyes between your face and them. You were shivering and he wanted to do something nice, and he also kind of didn’t see you all day. So he didn’t understand why it was so embarrassing to admit it.

You followed his gaze down before twisting your hand around. “Are you trying to ask if you can hold my hand?”

He frowned, it was even more embarrassing for you to catch onto him...

“So that’s what it was?” You pulled his hand away from his mouth, pulling it up to your lips. “That’s not bad, it’s cute.”

You gave a quick peck to his knuckles, making him let out a flustered noise he tried to eat up with a cough. His brows knitted together as he tried his best to look away, he must have felt overwhelmed or something, your hands were cold but so much warmth spread through his arm.

You two hadn’t held hands in so long, it was like that first sip of drinking cold water on a hot day. You were refreshing, well needed company after a long day.

He intertwined your hands correctly, fingers wrapped up in each other, held inbetween the center of you both.

“I missed you.” He whispered.

You grinned as you squeezed his hand, “I missed you too.”

He let out a sigh, letting the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you two stared at each other. The crickets cooed and the wind wisped soundly against the grass, if you listened closer you could hear the whirring of cars on the main roads.

You turned your head closer to his, looking up to him as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes danced over every feature of his face as he looked down at you with his glossy, painted like eyes.

He leaned down, fluttering his pretty lashes shut as you pulled him in closer. Up until your lips touched, a light butterfly kiss that felt like a small cloud graced your face. You could feel him smiling the second your lips touched, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you in just a tad bit deeper.

Your lips were soft, pushing onto his with a gentle squish. He was a little too excited for this. But who could blame him? With the way you touched him it made him warm on the inside, you had him wrapped around your finger with every smooch.

You grazed his cheek with your hands pressing kisses all over his face. He felt himself go weak under your fingertips, every press of your lips against his face made his heart rise into his throat.

How did he get someone like you?

This felt right to him, pulling you away from friends for a night time kiss felt needed. You pulled away, tapping his cheeks while he blinked his eyes open.

His eyes glided over your features, the moon highlighting every lovely aspect of your face. He ran his thumb over your cheek, making space, about to give you one more kiss before he heard a gasp.

“Fushiguro you creep! What are you doing!?”

The two of you flipped around to see Nobora with Itadori trailing right behind her. Itadori’s face dropped open while Nobora’s face twisted into itself.

“Yeah Fushiguro, get it!” Itadori pumped his fist up and down.

You were blinking and taking in your surroundings, one second you were being romantic with your boyfriend, the next you were caught by your friends. You looked between the two wondering where they even came from.

“Why are you guys out here?”

“I didn’t tell you what sida to get and you two were taking a long time!” Nobora pinched your cheek until you apologized.

You rubbed the side of your face as you checked your pocket for change, you forgot she sent you out here. You were too caught up in this quiet boy’s eyes to realize people could have gotten suspicious if you didn’t hurry.

You sighed, nothing you could do now, Itadori was already embarrassing Megumi and you couldn’t help but giggle. As hectic as this situation was, at least now you two could show a tad more affection in public. Nothing more than holding hands, but this reaction from the two wasn’t bad.

You cocked your head, though sweet, this situation felt a little too calm… you looked around as you thought of something that was missing in this situation, like an almost full puzzle piece with one left to fill.

Itadori sighed, “I can’t believe Fushiguro started dating before us…”

“Right it’s not fair…” Nobora nodded solemnly.

Megumi scoffed as the two moped. Scolding them for ‘not minding their business’ as you laughed at them. It was so cute seeing your friends like this over your secret relationship, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit happy your secret was released.

That was until you heard shuffling from around the corner. You all turned your heads until you heard a voice.

“Did I hear Megumi and dating in the same sentence?” Gojo slipped from the deep dark shadows below, a goofy smile wrapped around his cheeks.

Ah there it is, the missing piece.

[notnctu]

POV | PART TWO

━ ❝ i’d love to see me from your point of view.❞

❀ lee donghyuck x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, fluff! angst, (optional smut is marked with ****) ❀ details - best friends to lovers!au, college!au, ft. best friend mark, slice of life?, inspo by pov by ariana grande ❀ word count - 6.1k ❀ warnings - swearing, dangerous reckless behavior, fingering, penetration, public?sex?, unprotected, slight dirty talk ❀ synopsis - Donghyuck gradually falls in love with you, his best friend, through unprecedented intimate moments that reveal more than what meets the eye and a drunken shared kiss on your birthday makes him realize how hard he’s fallen for you. You’re oblivious to it all, trying to indulge and seek a one true love through bad tinder hookups or men you meet at the club, all to only end in self doubt that Donghyuck has to reconcile. And he always tells you what you need to hear, while also leaving out the part where he so badly wishes you can love yourself the way he loves you.

❀ a/n - make sure you read the first part as it’s a continuation! please please leave me feedback, i would really appreciate it :) this is going to be my last long fic for the time being! thanks for dealing with my spam for the past few weeks after months no of writings <3

READ PART ONE

Donghyuck thought about that kiss every night since it happened, yet knowing you didn’t do the same. How unfortunate it was, when he panicked waking next to you in the morning and wondering if you were to confront him about it. However, there was nothing, no follow up. You didn’t remember it and he couldn’t tell if the sigh that left his mouth that morning was out of relief or despair. 

Regardless, that became his epiphany and the more his love for you grew, the more he wished to be around you for all his days. Donghyuck jumped at every text message, picking up the phone to see if it was you and noting the disappointment in his heart whenever it wasn’t. He found himself smiling whenever your name was brought up, fondly thinking of how you make his heart race. 

The moments that you were together, he swears on every universe that he’s the happiest he’s ever been. There’s something about you that makes him want to believe in love, and it’s not because of your unrealistic desires to find one. As selfish as he came to be, he wanted you all to himself and to be the sole reason behind your smiles.

“No Mark?” Asking as you hop into Donghyuck’s car, the clock on his dash reading the red digital numbers 2:12 A.M. 

“Why can’t we just hang out for once?” He whines, but hopes that it’s playful enough to where you can’t tell that he’s actually serious. Donghyuck hears your melodic chuckle and everything inside him rumbles with glee and satisfaction. 

He steals quick peeks over at you in the passenger seat, greedily taking in your appearance. “That’s not exactly how a throuple works, but I’ll let it pass. Mark never has time for us anyways.” 

There is something so intimate about the late nights; the outside world is dead in its sleep and vulnerable to chaos. The streets are completely empty and it truly feels as if it’s you two against the city. It brings no regulations, easy escapes, staying up all night to feel something the day can’t give you. 

You are the perfect person to spend them with. You’re the very definition of a good feeling, where he’s forgetting all his bad days and soaring through the heavens. The most accurate human form of excitement, the adrenaline and sweetest thrills that run throughout his body. 

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do…” As Donghyuck pulls into a gas station parking lot, the small convenient store is brightly lit with a blinding white sign that reads a popular chain establishment. 

Hyuck blinks at you curiously, head tilt and waiting for you to finish your sentence. Getting out of the car, you stand on your toes and rest your chin on the roof of his car to speak directly to him, “you know that big intersection over on 34th Boulevard?” He catches the mischievous twinkle that shines in your eyes and a grin so fearless fits your face perfectly.

He nods, spinning his car keys on his finger and walking up to the store. But he’s looking back at you with eyes that ask for you to proceed with him, and you’re running towards him with a sudden youthful energy and a jump in your step. 

Your hand latches onto his arm and his gaze drops momentarily to follow it, “I’ve always wanted to just run down the middle of it. To run down a busy traffic area when it’s empty, knowing that this would be the only opportunity to do it without getting run over.” 

“Is that what you’re suggesting we should do next?” Hyuck opens the fridge and grabs his favorite prepackaged ice cream cone. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, your dazzling eyes never leaving his.

He hands you a random popsicle and you take it mindlessly, your train of thought still trying to convince Hyuck to embark on achieving this new thrill of yours. “If you didn’t have anything else planned…”

“Am I some Fairy Godmother? Granting your wishes to come true?” Using sarcasm to hide his undying desire to scream yes! may be the best thing he’s learned to utilize. However, you don’t need to beg any more when a small smile curves at his lips. He’s more than convinced.

“Ah, a happy couple. You two look great together.” The rather talkative cashier compliments while he rings up the icey treats. 

Just before Hyuck can clarify, you’re pulling him closer by the arm and using your fake saccharine smile. “The best boyfriend ever!” His throat freezes, but he’s following your lead closely. Confusion wandering his thoughts, but heart swelling at your usage of the word boyfriend to reference him. 

The friendly stranger laughs wholeheartedly at your giddy act, completely falling for your overplayed nature of a lovey dovey girlfriend. “He always buys me what I want, like this ice cream. He knows it’s my favorite.” You blink innocently up at him, but he finally understands your malicious motive.

Shooting a glare at you, he complies silently and pulls out his card to pay for both of your treats. “Right. Anything my baby wants.” He says the pet name so easily that it shocks him a bit. 

“Hey, you’re a good man.” The clueless cashier smiles even wider and prints the receipt. With a simple gratitude, you both exit the store and you’re laughing the loudest form of mockery.

Jumping into the car, Hyuck is quick to roll his eyes. “He always buys me what I want.” He imitates your previous statement with a silly voice. “I can’t believe you robbed me.” 

The ridiculous scheme actually managed to work, leaving your stomach to hurt from the intense fit of giggles. “My baby? Where did you learn that?” You say between your spurts of laughter.

Heat rises up his neck, slightly embarrassed. “So what? Nicknames are cute.” He admits bashfully, while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. 

Your chuckles die down and you’re leaning over the middle console to get a closer look of his expression. “Really? Didn’t think you were the type. You never used them with your exes.” 

“Around you.” A cringe runs down your spine when you witness Hyuck bite his ice cream, settling back in your seat with a grumble.

“Pet names in private.” Now, his palms grow a bit slick with perspiration. “That’s endearing.” Unwrapping your melting popsicle, you don’t probe him more about the subject. Instead, Hyuck turns up the stereo to drown out any more talk about romantic gestures.

After several rounds of finding street parking, Hyuck finally swerves into a spot situated just before the large six-way intersection. The traffic lights blink in view at the end of the street and in the darkness, there are no cars around. An unfamiliar scene, this place is nothing but a wide open road with five lanes that meet in the middle and lead to six different directions. The white painted lines that divide up the road are as chaotic as it looks during the day filled with traffic.

Nonetheless, you are right. There is no other chance to see it so dead, so empty, so free. 

And you’re already hopping out of the car that Hyuck breaks his daydream and hurries after you. Standing the middle of the road is a dangerous scheme, yet these are the thrill seeking moments that you crave too well. 

Extending your arm out and your palm facing the night sky, you grin enticingly at Hyuck to join you in the middle of the chaotic lines and the adrenaline picks up within him. He, too, matches your smile and lets every form of enthusiasm fuel him. 

“Race you to the end.” Hyuck begins bolting down the long runway, causing you to scoff in disbelief at his sudden challenge. 

The wind that takes flight against his body is crisp on his skin and driving his strands into a wild mess. Turning around, he sees that you’re quick on his tail. However, the one thing that catches his eye… the one thing that makes this moment another one of your most beautiful ones is the utter bliss and peace in your facial expression. 

Eyes are closed and arms are spread out as if you’re letting the wind carry you away. The air slips between the spaces of your fingers and the night is filled with nothing, but your gentle out of breath giggles. 

Donghyuck stops in his tracks right under the colorful traffic lights at your astonishing image. And if you are to open your eyes, you’ll see the marvelous image of your sun waiting for you in the middle of the largest intersection of the city with his mouth slightly agape and marked under a trance.

An exasperated sigh escapes as a puff of smoke and his heart works extra hard to pump oxygen in his veins. In his perspective, the excellent city skyline at the horizon remains your background and you’re running toward him with a breathless joy. Another splitting breathtaking image that will live in his mind for as long as he knows you.

So he throws caution to the wind and though it feels too good to be true, he loves his best friend more than anyone he’s ever come across.

By the end of your rendezvous, you two find a secret rooftop to fully enjoy your silent city. Standing side by side, you both lean with your elbows on the ledge. 

There is something so unspoken and intimate about this very moment, where existing in each other’s presences becomes wholly more comfortable than anything in the world. And this safety allows for vulnerable secrets to spill, for questions that your heart has always been afraid to ask to fall from your lips. 

But you’re not here with just anybody. Donghyuck probably knew what was already on your mind, he just needed you to speak them into existence.

“Hyuck, do you think I’m unlovable?” 

Perhaps, it’s the intimacy that allows for him to talk more confidently about how he views you. Heart over mind, he scoffs in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’re the most lovable person I know! From your happy giggles to your overall easy going aura. We’re not perfect people, but you’re worth every glance and every praise. I wanted to be with you the very moment you made me laugh.” 

Donghyuck passionately rambles on about your attributes and everything you’ve allowed him to experience over the years of your friendship. While he’s always been there for you, you’re always by his side and making sure he’s living a memorable life. He thanks all his sweetest memories to you, that you are the most impactful person of his entire college experience.

“I came to college thinking I’d have my nose in textbooks all day long, but you fell into my life like an opportunity to escape. I love my nights trying to crush Mark on the leaderboards, but I’d give that up any day to run down a major intersection in the middle of the city with you.” 

With a playful soft chuckle, you say something that practically makes his heart stop and regret oversharing. “You know, from how you describe me… it almost sounds like you’re in love with me.”

“Maybe I am.” He bites the inside of his cheek, unsure what suddenly overcame him. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and he’s anticipating your response, trying every way to decipher the quizzical look on your face. Nevertheless, your hesitation causes him to panic and he intercepts before you can respond. “I meant that as your friend.” 

His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, gaze averting away from you. Lies. Lies. More fucking lies. He should’ve waited to see what you would’ve said. 

Nodding knowingly, you lightly place your hand over his. The warmth of your touch soothes his aching and disappointment. Why is he hurting from a simple look? “I know.” He can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that you truly believe he only loves you as a friend or that you saw right through him and are trying to let him save face. 

“Something happened the night of your birthday that I think I should tell you.” Hyuck sighs out all his frustrations. 

He pulls his hand from underneath yours, “you asked me to kiss you as a birthday favor.” There is no confidence to watch your reaction, his eyes remain focused on the dark city. 

Instead of a painstaking rejection, you laugh wholeheartedly and somehow, he feels much lighter. “And did you?”

“How could I say no to you on your birthday?” Peering over, your fingers softly graze your lips and a wandering look is present in your dazed stare.

“It’s not the first time we’ve kissed, Hyuck.” Smiling at him, Hyuck looks cluelessly at you and doesn’t recall another time. He would’ve remembered. 

“Guess who I stole that same request from?” Your eye lashes bat firmly at him and he gulps at your implied question. There was no way.

“Me? When?” This all causes him to rack his brain of lost files, something he must’ve missed.

Sighing, you bid him a kind smile. “Your birthday party a few months ago. Drunk out of your living mind, you pulled me privately into the kitchen and asked if I could kiss you as a birthday gift.” 

Fuck, no wonder why he couldn’t remember. He didn’t remember a single thing from that night. “It was right after my break up.” 

Nodding, you affirm his realization. “You told me that you felt so lonely, and somehow…. someway… I’ve always made you feel seen. Perhaps, you do the same for me and my drunk ass was bold enough to ask for a similar request.” 

But did you kiss him as if you loved him? With the same amount of love that he did the night of your birthday? 

Nonetheless, you shrug off the topic and move on from it all. “We should go, the sun comes up in a few.” 

Hyuck notes this odd detail. You’re not one to end the nights so abruptly, so it almost seemed as if you didn’t want to speak more about it. 

Perhaps, you did kiss him like you meant it but every fear in your body about loving your best friend stops you from admitting it all. 

Because you shouldn’t love your best friend, but something deep down has always wanted to.

How ridiculous he was to believe that you could ever possibly share the same feelings as him. How foolish he felt the moment you burst into his apartment announcing how you’ve finally found the one after another random Tinder date. 

It’s as the night on the rooftop a week ago didn’t even exist or mean anything to you. But that night ate him up alive, to the point where he sought out love counseling from Mark.

“Oh dude, this is serious.” Mark watches Hyuck pace the room, double around the floorplan with his head in his hands with utter frustration and confusion. You’re the only thing that’s been running through his mind the last few days. 

He grunts and rolls his eyes at how Mark’s face had fallen sullen. “I practically confessed everything I loved about her. It’s pretty serious.”

Mark stands and stops Hyuck by the shoulders, looking dead into his eyes. “I’ve liked her before too and would have done some dumb act to get her to like me back. I get it, Hyuck. So, what do you want to do?”

Donghyuck initially scoffs and tears away from his best friend’s intense stare, “of course you liked her too.” His voice fades out at the end of his sentence. “Mark, I like her so much it’s hard to look at anyone else. She’s…”

“Mesmerizing?” Mark finishes his sentence with a small proud grin on his lips. 

Hyuck couldn’t hold the ridiculous laugh that escapes at how smug Mark looks, but then a silence falls over him. He realizes how perfect that word is to describe you. You are every dazzling trance he’d fawn under. 

“It’s wrong, Mark. She’s our best friend, I can’t ruin us.” Hyuck slumps his shoulders forward and a pout extends. His eyes are wandering the ugly carpet but he’s thinking about every moment you’ve smiled. 

“How did this happen in the first place? I thought you never would’ve liked her…” Mark’s question has Hyuck raking his brain to find his epiphany. “It’s not about your ex, is it? y/n is way too good to be a rebound.” 

“No. This has nothing to do with my old relationships, I genuinely like her… so much.” Hyuck understands the implications in Mark’s sudden abrasive questions. Even it’s difficult for himself to say how it all started and so this has Donghyuck reflecting back on his entire friendship with you.

If only he had noticed your lively smiles sooner, a little earlier, it would have saved him all this time searching for someone who would last. You’ve lasted through every college relationship he’s had and that speaks louder than any confession. 

“I never liked her because I never thought I had a chance. Have you seen her? Our best friend who has 400 matches on Tinder.” Though he blames himself for realizing a little late that he loved you, it was always hard to compete with everyone else. 

“So, what changed then?” 

Hyuck leans against the door to Mark’s room and crosses his arms to contemplate. “Not that I have a chance now, but I can’t hold these feelings back anymore. I want to kiss her until we’re out of breath, to love without any conditions, to be the reason behind her every beautiful moment.” 

Mark raises a confused eyebrow, “but you are.”

“The only reason.” Hyuck speaks his truest desires and Mark coughs aggressively before composing himself. Right, he didn’t stutter one bit. 

So, Hyuck had planned to confess, all until you gave him the very reason he couldn’t. When you showed up unannounced with one of those wide grins that has your eyes shimmering with hope, he just knew something was wrong. All his love and future aspirations were replaced with sheer disappointment and envy.

“I’m falling hard for him.” You begin and your hands are clasped together so innocently. “He brought me to this overlook on a cliff and we just talked for ages. It felt so right and then, he asked to see me again!” Your eyes are completely wondrous and distracted, like the one thought in your mind blocked out everything else. Jumping happily, you’re squealing with excitement thinking about this new person in your life and there is no consideration of Hyuck’s silence.

“That’s… great.” He barely stutters to fill the air and to replace the sound of his heart breaking. He lost you before even getting the chance to even have you. 

“I know right!” You yell joyfully and though your smile is the biggest it's ever been, Hyuck refuses to see this moment as beautiful. He’s no longer looking at you objectively, his bias tainting it all and he sees it in an ugly light. As your best friend, he should be happy for you and rooting for you. He’s known more than anyone else that you have been waiting for someone like this your whole college experience.

However, he can’t feel a single good emotion as you ramble on about your alleged one true love.

“Did you need something?” He cuts you off, growing a bit irritated by your endless praise about a man who never wishes to meet.

Clearing your throat, you take Hyuck’s hand in both of your palms. With begging eyes, you say, “my sister is getting married this weekend and they invited you. 

His hold escapes yours as he walks toward his bedroom, “shouldn’t you invite your new man to your family events now.” It’s difficult for him to hide the bitterness in his voice, but you run up to him and grip his arm. 

“But they think I’m dating you, remember? Plus, my mom referred to you by name. She really likes you.” You snicker, clearly not understanding why Donghyuck seems to be rather distant at the moment.

His ears perk up at the compliment and though it’s a selfish thought, he feels content knowing that he was able to win over your family. So, his heart burns at how your hand slowly travels down to intertwine with his own and how your chin rests on his shoulder lightly. His head turns and he is met a few inches away from your tender lips. For a brief moment, he’s staring at them longer than he should. 

“Come on, Hyuck. Be mine for one more time.” Your whisper is gentle and soft, your breath tickling against his cheek. Despite everything, he loves how you make him feel. It’s always a mixture of happiness and safety. There are no fears with you because you’re absolutely fearless. He can’t imagine how he would’ve opened up without you around, that he puts every form of trust into you. 

So, every little thing that you do. every single passing look. every touch and every spoken word. He falls harder for you every time you simply see him, every time you bat your eyelashes at him. And this love that festers inside of him feels easy and genuine. Perhaps, you’ve been his one true love all along. He’s never felt remarkably seen, where every part is exposed and right at your fingertips. 

And you… have been so patiently waiting for just anyone to steal your heart. How can he let just anyone love you? 

“I’m yours for however long you want me to be.” He lightly ruffles the top of your hair before slightly shrugging you off, afraid that your hold will eventually have him saying other sweet implications. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.” He smirks at your small chuckle, the roll in your eyes.

“At least pretend.” But he really doesn’t have to. He enjoys every moment being yours. 

When the day finally arrived, the grand wedding may have been another day that Hyuck will never forget how beautiful you looked. Prancing out in your bridesmaid dress, you run towards him through the large field of fake grass. He catches you when you jump into his arms, practically failing all over and tripping over the ends of your chiffon dress. He hits the ground, cushioning your fall. 

“Hey..” you grin down at him breathless, hand resting perfectly on his chest as it was the night of your 21st again.

Hyuck gulps and sends you a glare, “I should have dropped you.” 

“That would have been very chivalrous of you.” Sarcasm bites back at him as you push up and off of him. He’s quick on his feet and brushing off any dust from the bottom of your expensive dress, avoiding the long open slit that runs down to expose one leg.

“Donghyuck, you’re looking ravishing.” Your mother steps out, tall and prideful, but with the most delightful expression as she opens her arms to invite him into a hug. 

He leans into it, while cautiously making suspicious eye contact with you. You shrug back, also confused at why your mother has a sudden change in demeanor. “It’s been so long since the holidays.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He bids your mother a respectful smile when she pulls away, to which she absolutely fawns at and you’re tugging at his sleeve to drag him away.

“The pleasure is all mine. You make y/n a better person.” And there is no context that Hyuck understands this single phrase before he’s walking away from your force. Your mother waves a small sweet goodbye as she watches you two leave behind a cobblestone wall behind the large reception building.

It’s covered in long vines that grow up the old stones, a beautiful background for an outdoor wedding. “Rude.” He whispers when you finally stop pulling him away.

“She was starting to say odd things.” You laugh, quite nervously actually. Nonetheless, you shake out of your nerves and a beaming expression replaces your troubles. “So, guess what? I’m meeting my man afterwards.” Yet again, the curve of your lips at the thought of another rumbles his own yearning heart.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looks down while kicking at the loose pebbles on the ground. “Good for you.” grumbles Donghyuck mindlessly.

You don’t notice his low spirits again, you’re talking away about this man as if he’s all you’re consumed with nowadays. On and on, the same speech about how you’re practically ready to give it your all and how he fits someone unimaginable. Eventually, Donghyuck becomes fed up by how your eyes blink up to the sun with another reflection in them. “It’s like you forget who you are when you’re with someone new.” 

And you’re in mid-ramble when you hear his harsh comment that picks aggressively at your skin. It stings, “what?” You cross your arms defensively and raise an eyebrow at him. The tone in your voice is jarringly upset and he opened a can of worms that he isn’t ready for.

Donghyuck swears underneath his breath, looking away at the tall trees behind the small parking lot. “Forget it.” He mumbles, rather frustrated at himself for ticking you off.

“What are you implying?” 

“There is someone that actually makes you a better person rather than someone completely different.” He scoffs, his emotions fueling the worst of him. The words flow from his mouth full of anger and spitefulness. 

Your eyes narrow at him, crossing your arms defensively. “Like you can give me the love you think I deserve? This whole fake boyfriend gimmick has gone too much to your head.”

And his heart is bursting at the seams and all he can see is your angry expression, so he says something he never hopes to regret. Every impulse beats his rationality and in the heat of the moment, Donghyuck confesses, “if only you can see yourself from my point of view and all the emotions I feel when I look at you.” 

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re slightly shocked at his bold statement. You blink cluelessly at him, speechless and deciphering how to respond. The anger fades from the both of you, knowing that the connection you two possess is mutual. Somewhere deep down within you, a light switches on and you’re basking in your sun’s radiance in this moment. 

“Tell me about it.” Your curiosity brings much confusion, but he doesn’t wait a second of hesitation. 

“Happiness, you light up my nights in dark cars with your smile. Trust, there is no one else I’d run down a dangerous intersection with. Courage, being bold enough to dance in a crowded room like no one was watching. Love, when kissing you felt incomparable to anything else in the world. Vulnerability, looking at you and knowing everything about you.” 

Donghyuck takes a cautious step forward toward you. A whirl of thoughts and emotions overwhelmingly flood your heavy mind, but fear no longer holds you back from the one person you’ve always wished to love, harder than any person you’ve ever encountered. “Donghyuck.” 

He freezes at the call of his name, waiting patiently for your next words. “I want to love me the way that you love me... because nobody loves me like you do… even myself. So, I’d love to see me from your point of view.” 

Donghyuck releases the sigh that suffocates him and every firework lights up in his chest. His eyes wander across your canvas and absorb everything wondrous about your features. Even though you’re not entirely smiling, you’re puckering your lips cutely out of embarrassment. And he reassesses how pretty you simply look in your expensive formal chiffon dress and the bold color on your lips that has made you feel good before. 

He thinks aloud, the words leaving his mouth before they can be stopped. “This is your most beautiful moment.” 

When you’re looking up at him to meet his dreamy gaze, a new enthusiasm washes over your entire body. Looking rather inexplicably attractive in his suit, Hyuck stares at you as if you’re all he can see. So, you pull him into the only source of gratitude you can give. A kiss that gives every emotion back to him, one that resembles closely to the one he gave you on your birthday and the one you gave him for his. 

An emotional kiss that tells him more than he can see. He feels it on the tip of your tongue and every ounce of love that rushes over the both of you.

***********

Donghyuck’s wandering hands travel down your waist, over your hips, all until it reaches in between the slit of your dress. His hand instinctively grips at your naked thigh, the feeling of your raw skin driving him wild with impure thoughts. Your hands are quick on his tie, loosening it from around his collar and unbuttoning the first few as you’ve done once before.

“Can,-- Is it okay if--?” Hungry eyes search his face for confirmation, but you’re so lust driven that you’re a stuttering mess. “Do you want this?” 

“Yes.” Says Hyuck without any hesitation. Taking his hand, you’re quick to lead him inside to a more secluded part of the venue. The lavish private bathrooms are brightly lit and he lifts you on top of the marble counters.

“The reception starts in 20 minutes.” You moan as Hyuck kisses down your neck hastily, a hand up the slit of your dress to push your panties aside.

“We’ll make it quick then. I’ll show you love another day.” His knuckle lightly grazes against your erect clit and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Whimpers fall from your lips as your hips mindlessly grind into his hand. “Never took you the type to be so loud.” Hyuck raises an eyebrow and tilts his head mockingly at you.

“This isn’t even close to how loud I can get.” Your statement causes him to swallow hard. Being your best friend, he has kept a rather clear mind from any sexual attraction toward you. He had to know he loved you in order to even see you in that way. 

Gathering your slick, he rubs your clit with two fingers before dipping them into your hole. You lean back into the mirror and prop your feet on the counter to spread open for Hyuck to see. “You let all these idiots fuck your pretty pussy? They don’t deserve you, as a person or a potential partner.” He fingers you deeper and with flicking motions, he hits your sweet spot and causes you to jolt.

“Please, just fuck me. I’ve always wondered how good you’d feel.” His eyes twinkle at your bashful confession, but understands your lustful desires even for your own best friend.

“You think about fucking me?” He asks abruptly, taking his fingers out to suck your juices clean from them. A coined flattered smirk appears on his lips as he unbuckles his belt.

You’re averting eye contact, “well no, maybe just once. I get horny when I’m drunk sometimes.” You admit and he’s rushing to take himself out of his restrictive dress pants. His dick hits the air and he adjusts closer to your dripping core.

And he enters, slowly and slowly inching in so you can adhere to his size. You bite back every yell of pleasure and grip the ends of his dress shirt. Hyuck fills you up deliciously, and you two are connected through bodies beyond any way before. He leans in to give you a sloppy, yet passionate kiss before dragging out his hips and pushing them back in.

There is no guilt, no pain, no sorrows. Knowing Hyuck, he fucks you in the same way he wishes to love you. His hips drive into you passionately and quickly. The time crunch being something that causes him great distraction, but his heart is swelling simply feeling your warmth wrap around him so well.

“My baby is so tight.” Pet names in private. A small grin appears on your face at the sound of the sweet nickname and you pull him closer by tugging his shirt.

“Harder, Hyuck. Don’t hold back anymore.” Moan after moan, Hyuck relentlessly drills into you. His arm is hooked underneath your left thigh to keep it up, and your head keeps banging against the mirror.

Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs circles on your aching clit. The mixture of both pleasures stimulate you until the build up tension in your stomach begins to reach its peak.

“Cum, I know you fucking want to.” He grunts, keeping the same rhythm that pushes you over your edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as your legs shake sporadically from your release. You’re smart to cover your mouth, knowing that the bathroom will only echo your erotic sounds. Your chest rises and falls from the momentum and adrenaline that Hyuck helped you reach, breathlessly trying to calm your heart rate down.

After a few more harsh bumps, he pulls out and motions you forward. Jumping off of the counter, you kneel on the ground and suck his tip lightly. Your swirls are enough for him to empty into your mouth, his hot streams of salty liquid hitting the back of your throat. He looks down at you and your wide eyed expression with his cock in your mouth drives him overboard. 

And you swallow, getting up to lightly plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A lip stain being worn proudly for just a moment. 

“You amaze me.” Hyuck whispers, holding you against his flushed body and fast paced heart beat. 

“Hurry out you two!” A voice startles the both of you with a knock on the door and you two are quick to readjust yourselves. He hopes to love you a little longer next time, without any interruptions.

***********

After the glorious and excruciating long wedding, you’re walking Hyuck to his car in the small parking lot. During the rest of the night, he held your hand the whole way through and the love that he looked at you with was more than real. 

He talked with your distant relatives as if he’s always known them. Hyuck conducted the dinner table, always knowing what to say. There was no doubt in your head that seeing Donghyuck in the aftermath, he was always going to be someone who was going to make things better. 

The love you long searched for, the love that you had been too afraid to touch, intertwined itself so lovingly underneath the white table cloth. Donghyuck is the one and it took needing to see him a bit more to realize. A little more acceptance from the both of you had to be the final straw.

Donghyuck sheepishly scratches the back of his neck when you reach his car, unsure where the path of your friendship will diverge to next. “Have fun on your date then…” His voice trails off, kicking the rocks at his feet again.

There goes your melodic laughter that soothe his aching heart and the familiar gentle grip on his fingertips. You lift his chin up, the both of you seeing each other clearly now.

From his perspective, you’re absolutely dazzling in the low light and butterflies swirl in the pit of his stomach. He can look at you forever, until months turn into years. He can love you until you two grow old. You’re his fearless, beautiful, inexplicably marvelous best friend. And he patiently waits for the day you’ll let him finally be yours.

From your perspective, Donghyuck shines even when the night overtakes the sky and possibly, the warmth in your heart bubbles across your chest. You can stay with him forever, until months turn into years. You can trust him like it’s you two against the world. He is your silly, charming, timidly benevolent best friend. And you’re slowly falling and hoping for the day you get to be his. 

“I’m not going to see him anymore. He’s not the one.” Hyuck blinks at you, full of confusion and shock.

“But you sounded so happy.” His voice gets lost in the stillness of the intimate atmosphere. 

“No, Hyuck. You make me happy and I’ll say it again for you to hear me. Nobody loves me like you do.” Reaching up, your hand caresses his cheek and he falls into your palm lovingly. His heart runs a mile, reaching the greatest high he’s ever going to feel. He hopes his eyes don’t deceive him, but the utter perfection on your face makes him feel whole.

You wish that Hyuck can teach you to love yourself the way that he loves you. 

“Take me home?” 

“How could I ever say no?”

thank you for being patient with me! its finally done and i will be going on a writing hiatus for a bit. housemating and ridin club will come out sometime soon, but i really need to step away from writing for a bit. please understand, thank you for reading :) 

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt/Background: After turning yourself in to the government following the events of CA:TWS, they lock you up for the crimes you committed during your time at Hydra. Spending years there until Captain America got you on parole during the blip to help fight Thanos. Now, after doing community service acts and helping the broken society, when they give the new Captain America the shield, you’re thrown back into a life you didn’t want.

Word Count: 1871 (ahaha, yea)

Reader: Female

Warning: parole officers might be triggering??? idk

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to end my 141 part Wattpad Sebastian Stan imagine book and post on Tumblr instead :’), a happy day. Also, I’M SORRY THAT I LIKE SLOW BURN SERIES OK? Schedule for this series is every Thursday. ALSO IF YOU HAVE TITLE IDEAS FOR THIS SERIES, LMK! PLEASE

Masterlist

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

=====

The sound of your heels echoed throughout the dimly lit room as you make your way through the exhibit. The walls take you back in time, reading how Captain America came to be and all his past accomplishments. They even updated from the last time you were here, documenting the events on the Blip.

You didn’t even know where you were going, absently letting your emotions and feet lead to where it felt you needed to be.

“For a former spy, you’re not really good at sneaking up on someone.” Rhodes’ voice greets you once you open up the curtain to a different area. A small smile sneaks its way across your face seeing the two men in front of you.

“Bit out of practice.” You spit back, walking towards them. “It’s nice to see you again, Rhodie.” You open your arms out to him and he gladly takes the hug. “Hopefully life’s been treatin’ you well.”

“For the most part,” He chuckles out while pulling away from the embrace. You move on to the other man, him happily wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrap yours around his shoulders.

Sam lets out a breath into the crook of your neck before pulling back. “You doing okay?” You ask, looking at his face for any sign of emotion. He nods but there was something in his eye that told otherwise.

You open your mouth to push him for the real answer but Rhodes cuts you off, “Well, I have to get going. It was good seeing you, (Y/L/N), hopefully, we work together soon. Remember what I said, Sam.” With that, he leaves the room to leave you and Sam alone.

The room fills with silence as the two of you turn to the iconic suit and shield in front of you. You try to watch Sam from the corner of your eye but he just stands with his back straight and his eyes forward.

“You know, I’m sure Steve would understand.” You decide to say, clasping your hands in front of you. “I didn’t become as close as you did, but from my time with him during the Blip, he tried his best to help everyone. He had a lot of responsibilities and issues of his own along with having a whole country looking up to him... 

“It was a lot… he opened to me about it one night before… you know.” You admit which makes him finally look at you. “He told me what he was going to do and all I could do is support him… I asked him what he was going to do with the mantle and he said give it to you.” Turning your head, you make eye contact with him. “I asked him if he was sure.”

He lets out a snort at that, shaking his head at you. “Really gotta do me like that?” He wipes his hand across his face then stuffs his hand in his pockets as he turns to face you. “I thought we were having a nice bonding moment and then you had to drop me like that?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips at his whining. “I’m being serious, Sam, stop.” You hit him on the shoulder. “He said there was no doubt in his mind that you do what needed to be done with the shield. He trusted you and your judgment, Falcon.” You emphasize his hero name which he just rolls his eyes at you.

“Yea, I’m sure he did.” He smiles and then changes the subject, “How’s parole treatin’ ya, still got the collar on?” He gestures to your ankle causing you to lift your dress pant leg, flashing the electric bracelet around your ankle. He lets out a hearty chuckle at it. “Still can’t believe that they have you on a leash.”

“Price you gotta pay for freedom.” You shrug and drop the cloth. There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, both of you taking a glance back at the exhibit and the shield.

“Have you talked with Bucky recently?”

“No, I was going to ask you.” Your heart sinks at the realization. “We’ve been texting a bit but I haven’t seen him since I spent the weekend with him a couple of weeks ago.” You shyly admit and look down at your feet.

“Weekend, huh?”

“Shut it, Sam.” You knock your foot against his. “We didn’t do anything, he doesn’t like me like that. Plus, he wouldn’t even let me spend the night. I had to go to a hotel, he sleeps on the floor, Sam! I’m worried about him.” It took weeks for you to convince him to let you come over and you finally knew why when you step into his apartment. It made your heart sink, it looked like if a Hydra cell got a remodel. “He has two chairs and a tv.”

“Living modestly I see.” He snorts out, covering up whatever he was actually thinking. It’s now your turn to roll your eyes at him, frustrated that he isn’t willing to talk about this. “Hey, he’s still figuring stuff out, okay? He just got all his memories back and he’s still working on living with his past. You should know better than I do to give him time.” His tone is soft as he lightly scolds you. You hang your head at his words, knowing he’s right.

It took some time for you to come to terms with your past when you turned yourself in after Hydra and SHIELD fell. You took accountability for your actions during your years at Hydra and spent a few years in jail before Steve took action to help you get on parole. That didn’t mean you weren’t fully recovered.

“When are you joining me on the field, anyway?” Sam changes the topic noticing how you went silent and your eyes looked past him. “I could use you on some of my recon missions.” 

A large smile forms on your face at the mention of your parole. “A couple more check-ins and I’m good, I think.” You excitedly inform, “They actually want to talk to me about something, and then it’s the last three months. Saving the world made my good behavior skyrocket.”

“I’m sure it did.” He smiles, “Well, let me know what happens. I’m heading down to Louisiana soon and my sisters want to meet you. She heard about your work with the soup kitchens in New York and she wanted some insight.”

“Really? Give her my number, you know I’d be happy to talk with her. I’ve been thinking about trying to get my officer to convince the big guys to expand my tracking radar so I reach out more.” You start to ramble about the ideas you’ve been having for more community service actions. During the blip, Steve got you into volunteer work and it sparked something inside of you. He said it might give you a new purpose and he couldn’t have been more right.

The two of you spend the rest of the day together, catching up on everything that’s been going on. You didn’t realize how much you missed his snarky comments and banter until he smothered you in it, “making up for lost time”, he said. He continues the bullying by texting back and forth for the next few days.

It was nice to have a friend after everything that happened over the last few years. Steve and Nat were gone so the friendships you built up during the blip were just a memory now. Yea, Bucky and you were friends but it was a bit more complicated than that.

It’s a few weeks after that and they’ve already named some prick the new Captain America. You were frustrated at Sam but you realized that he couldn’t have known that this was going to happen. Especially since when you reached out to him and he was more furious than you were. Bucky was a whole other story. When the press conference aired, he immediately called you and went off about Sam. You couldn’t offer answers so you just told him to talk to him about it. This didn’t involve you.

Now, you were sat at some random government office in DC. You were beyond nervous, leg bouncing and fingers tapping. Kevin, your sweet parole officer, had called you in for an emergency meeting. He didn’t mention anything about the content of it but he assured you not to worry. It didn’t help, though, your mind was scrambling trying to think of anything you could’ve done to break your parole or anywhere you could’ve gone that went outside your tracking radar.

“(Y/L/N)?” The familiar voice echoes through the lobby makes your head snap up. Kevin, your knight in a cashmere sweater, stands there with his hands in his pants pockets. He nods his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

He leads you down a long hallway, stopping at the end of it and holding the door open for you. You send him a grateful smile before entering the office. It was very different from his usual office. The tall windows lined the wall from floor to ceiling, making the already large room feel even more spacious. It was a bit unsettling compared to his close-knit office space located in an old house on the outskirts of DC.

Kevin moves you two to the large conference table on the other side of the room, having you sit before he does. He takes the chair at the head of the table, sighing as he opens the folder and takes a few papers out.

“Sign these.” He slides them over to you but you furrow your eyebrows in response.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re being released.” He announces, leaning back in his chair with a tight-lipped smile on his face. Your jaw drops and your heart picks up but you can’t help but question it. You quickly compose yourself and look down at the papers.

“Isn’t it a bit too early?” You ask while briefly scanning the papers. “I still have two months left, not that I’m not grateful but where is this coming from?” This was happening too suddenly, Kevin was good with warning you about the activities that go on behind the scenes of your parole and he didn’t even mention the thought of an early release.

The brunette man lets out a sigh, running his hair through his long hair. He then leans his elbows on the table with his head propped up on his palms, he opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by the office door opening.

The new Captain America and his sidekick come waltzing in, a few of his goons following as well. He didn’t need the uniform or shield for you to recognize him since his face has been plastered on every channel since they came forward with him. He’s all everyone could talk about.

“He released you.” You barely hear Kevin as your mind goes into spirals. What the hell did this guy want? Why is he even here? What the hell did he want with you?

[potter-imagines]

Being Thor and Loki's Little Sister and Dating Peter Parker Would Include...

Notes: wow I haven't written a marvel one in a long time pls don't read too much into the timeline lol I know things overlap but just go with it (:

Warnings: none... I think ??

Word Count: 3.6k (sorry its a bit long for a write like this but I couldn't help myself)

You managed to do a decent job at keeping your relationship under wraps from your brothers for quite some time

Of course every other member on the team knew before the two of you even begun officially dating

Peter had spent three months ranting and raving to Tony Stark about how cute he thought you were and how much he liked you

Tony insisted time and time again he should tell you but Peter’s fear of rejection was much too large for him to find the courage for that

Unbeknownst to him,

You had spilled about your crush on Peter to Wanda and Nat almost a week after living in the compound

Being the only other girls there besides Pepper, it was easy to confide in them

Day after day you would wander to Wanda’s room and lay on her bed and gush about how handsome Peter was and how kind of a heart he had

Wanda found it adorable

And Bucky, Steve and Sam had placed the pieces together after days on end of watching Peter and yourself flirt like school kids in the gym during training

Even after being frozen for years, Steve recognized the look of smitten on Peter’s face when he talked to you

Bruce on the other hand had to sit through most of the kids talks with Tony in the lab so he figured it out fast

So when the two of you finally confessed your feelings for one another and Peter asked you out, there was only one road block holding the moment back from perfection

Your brothers

You and Peter shared the news with all the other team members expect the two, possibly most important in your case, members

You’ve been close to your brothers since you were brought into this world so it wasn’t like you didn’t want to tell them

It was more or less how overprotective they could be that made you bite your tongue

And as nervous as you are, Peter is 1,000% more worried about your brother’s finding out

Like honestly can you imagine how petrified Peter would be to tell Thor and Loki you two were dating

He’d purposely walk in the opposite direction every time he saw either of the two for the first week

Couldn’t stop fumbling with his words when he spoke to either of them

Like he was terrified

It’s sort of a cliché to have protective older brothers but older brothers who were also both Gods ????

Peter felt like a deadman walking

When the day finally came that you did tell your brothers about your relationship with Peter, it was absolutely cringe worthy

Peter had been coming home to the tower after a long day at Midtown High School when he spotted you the second he stepped foot out of the elevator

His excitement had clouded his judgement as he failed to check and see if the coast was clear

“Y/n! Hey!”

He nearly tumbled over his own feet as he rushed over to you

His face was gleaming with happiness and for a brief moment you felt a smile creep to your face until you were pulled back to reality by his hand reaching out to grasp yours

Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at Peter and before you could warn him to stop, he had planted a soft kiss on your cheek

That adorable smile was glowing from his face as he reached down for your hand only to fall once you pulled your hand away

He gave you a look of confusion, clearly surprised by your lack of response

But when an awkward cough sounded from behind him, he suddenly knew why

Peter didn’t have enough time to make any sort of a move when a husky, all too familiar voice spoke up,

“Hello, man of spiders. May I ask why you just kissed our little sister?” “Oh shit- I uh, well you see I…um...she had something on her face so I uh…”

Loki would snicker in amusement at seeing the boy squirm and prolong his torture “So you kissed her?” “Yeah…” “Hm, there something you’d like to share, little one?”

It wasn’t exactly the way you were hoping to break the news to your brothers

But it was certainly one way of doing it

The rest of the night was filled with awkward tension as you and Peter had to confess the truth to your brothers, who then made you share the news with the rest of the team

Thankfully, the rest of the team pretended they were just hearing about your new relationship for the first time, seeing as no one wanted to deal with an angry Thor

Now let’s get into your relationship with Peter

Peter Parker is the most caring person in the universe

Honestly

And dating him certainly came with it’s perks

You can expect to wake up every morning with a fresh coffee and a pastry on your nightstand, courtesy of Peter

He’ll also write you a sweet little ‘good morning’ note with a sketch of spider-man hanging from a web

(( he’s actually pretty talented in the doodling department ))

Makes cute sketches of him as spiderman and you as a princess ( vv fitting)

But also draws you as a total badass saving the galaxy bc… well you are

Count on him to be the first person to greet you when the sunrises and the last person to wish you a goodnight when it falls

Gets Mr. Stark to buy you an iphone so he can teach you how to use it

Has your name as “goddess” in his phone

The first thing he does is teach you about texting so he can pay you in imessage games

Refuses to play you in battleship since you somehow have crushed him every single time

Gets slightly annoyed with the overwhelming amount of random photos you snap of him

But he knows its all new to you and finds it irritatingly adorable

Loves it when you walk home with him from school

Will also keep reminding you that you shouldn’t have walked alone all the way to Midtown High School alone

Peter often forgets that you’re Asgardian and can protect yourself just fine

But it’s so cute how protective he is

He’s very observant and notices nearly everything

Like when you’re feeling a bit homesick

He picks up on it right away and will ask Thor and/or Loki for advice

Or when you start to become bored and tired at one of Star’s parties

Peter made his way over you before you even had the chance to turn and search for him

He’d escort you back to your room and lay with you until he was positive you had fallen asleep

Kisses to the top of your head

Is the boyfriend that will take your makeup off for you if you wear any

(( and sets yours lashes on the nightstand so neatly and labels which eye they were on cause the poor boy doesn’t understand ))

Spends weeks learning how to master the intricate braids that adorn your head

It’s so cute cause he’ll sit and look up Youtube videos and try to learn how to make the different braids and is just so confused but so determined

Taking Peter to visit Asgard

“Woah- this place looks like something from Lord of the Rings! It’s awesome!” “Lord of the Rings? I’ve never met that God.” “Uh, no, it’s a movie from Earth. We can watch it when we go back.” “To Midgard?” “Midgard? No, to New York.”

Loves it when your people refer to you as “Princess Y/n”

For some reason it makes him blush

Will tell everyone back on Earth that he’s dating a princess

I could def see Peter getting annoyed and frustrated with the Asgardian men trying to flirt and win your heart

Although that’s something that already belong to Peter

And even though Peter trusts you entirely

He’s still insecure from time to time

Especially when he sees how much taller and stronger Asgardian men look in comparison to him

But he finds reassurance in the feeling of your hand in his and the gleeful smile adorning your face as you show him around your homeland

Attempting to help Peter study

Although you’re not much help to Midgardian school work “Peter, darling, I don’t have a clue what a watergate is and I haven’t an idea how that could be scandalous.”

Maths however you excelled in

And Peter was thoroughly surprised to find you had the sequence of PI memorized to the one hundredth number- and in song form

Holding your hand 24/7

Endless cuddles on the couch

And when you’re walking around together, he does that thing where he swings your hands and back forth

Movie theater dates… at the tower b/c your brothers feel the need to be in close proximity the you guys at all times

Trying ice cream for the first time with Peter at two in the morning

One of Peter’s favorite things to do with you is take you through a walk in his world

At least three times a week Peter and you will walk around the city and find new things your Asgardian self has yet to experience

Like pizza

New York pizza to be exact

And hot chocolate

Ice skating at Rockefeller Center once the weather got cold

Loves to take you for drives in the more woodsy land of New York once fall set in and the leaves began to change

But by far his favorite thing is showing you Midgardian films and movies of all sorts

He loves that you don’t judge him for nerding out over his love for films

Not to mention you actually sit and watch Star Wars with him

(( maybe it was the whole space element but Peter was just thrilled you liked it ))

But then he shows you ‘Alien’

And it was an instant regret

It took him the rest of the night to convince you that the movie was fake

You made him sleep in your room just for reassurance

Your favorite out of the films Peter played was called ‘Toy Story’

Buzz Lightyear reminded you of Thor

In terms of TV shows

F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which quickly became your guys comfort show

Parks & Rec too “That Andy fellow looks an awful lot like Starlord, don’t you think?”

Peter refuses to let you watch Black Mirror

After the whole incident with Alien

Black Mirror didn’t seem like a good idea

Constantly teasing from the rest of the Avengers

Tony just can’t help it

He loves tormenting the two of you

Especially when Thor and/or Loki are around

“Hey Peter, I thought I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night but I didn’t see you leave until the morning. Heard a lot of noise too- thought Y/n was getting attacked. What was that about?”

Or

“Kid, I got you those condoms you asked for. How’d you manage to run out of that last box so quick? I just bought it for you a week ago!” “Messing with you, they’re just sugar packets- Thor put Peter down right now!”

Aunt May absolutely adores you

Always tells Peter how sweet you are and is constantly inviting you over for dinner

Lets you two have sleepovers in his room at her place

As long as the door stays open

Peter can’t stop laughing when you compliment May on her ability to make an amazing bowl of cereal

She thought it was a joke seeing as she burned dinner the night before to a crisp and laughs until she’s in tears

And you’re literally sitting there so confused, clearly not understanding the joke

Peter then takes you on a trip to a grocery store for the first time to show you a whole aisle full of cereal

It is then that you realize Aunt May didn’t hand make the fruity pebbles

She still laughs about it to this day

Befriending Ned and listening enthusiastically while he gives you a full speech on the franchise Star Wars

And his rant on how terrible Star Trek is in comparison

Is shocked when you ask questions out of genuine interest

Ned immediately takes a liking to you after that and asks Peter daily to invite you to hangout

Whenever Stark adds an upgrade to his suit, you’re the first person Peter shows it to

He shares quite literally everything with you

As do you to him

The rest of the Avengers love gossiping about you guys

Nat and Wanda have already started planning the wedding and Pepper has the perfect venue in mind, much to your brothers dismay

For some reason

Thor and Loki are always within reasonable distance, enough so they can keep an eye on you but also give some sense of privancy

Thor is def always the first one to step in

“Peter, please remove your hand from my sister’s behind.” “Oh uh, ye-yeah… sorry, Mr.Thor.”

Loki would find Peter amusing

He loves to mess with him whenever given the chance

“Ah, Peter. Good to see you. I’m sure Y/n informed you of our task today. Very impressed that you offered yourself as the sacrifice to the aliens-” “Wait, what? Y/n?!” “He’s kidding, Peter.”

Everyone in the Avenger’s tower knew Peter was lactose intolerant and knew the repercussions of the boy consuming any sort of dairy

(( he physically cannot leave the bathroom for a full day ))

Yet Loki regularly will swap Peter’s specially labeled almond milk with a jug of skim milk just for the hell of it

There’s something so hilarious to him about the look of panic and alarm that smacks abruptly across Peter’s face as he quickly stumbles out of the kitchen to his room

It keeps him laughing for days

You’ll just shoot your brother a look of disapproval, clearly certain it was his doing

“Loki, why did Peter run off?” “Not sure, darling sister, maybe he’s got one of those stomach bugs. I’ve heard Midgardians are prone to them…weak bodies and such.” "You switched out his milk again didn’t you.” “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of, little one.”

Thor is a bit more hesitant on accepting your relationship with his fellow Avenger

He trusts that Peter would never harm you

Although he did not trust that you would never be harmed because of Peter

It was risky enough that both your brothers were big names in space, as well on Earth, however

Thor knew Loki and himself were capable of protecting you but Peter?

He was just a kid, in Thor’s eyes

However the one thing that kept him from telling you this was seeing how happy Peter made you

As your older brother, Thor trusted your judgement and tried his best to be accepting of his little sister dating

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he saw crystal clear the care and love Peter gave to you and he wasn’t willing to break that for you

Still

Thor is the type of brother to barge into a room and shove himself between Peter and yourself without warning

This man does not care at all

At least Loki has the decency to give you two space as a couple

Thor does not

He is constantly third wheeling on your dates and will ‘accidentally’ walk into rooms he knows you two are in claiming he forgot something

Not that he ever grabs anything,

He’ll usually just stand and stare at the two of you until you either leave the room or ask him to leave

To which he always answers,

“No.”

But with a smile

A smug smile

PDA is something he will never be okay with

Thor will yank Peter back by the collar every time he sees his lips on yours and glare at him, “Man of spiders, I know you’re in love with my little sister but kissing her infront of me is too far.”

And Loki will physically gag just to piss you off

For the most part, your relationship with Peter is nearly perfect

It would be entirely perfect if you weren’t constantly worrying about him dying on a mission or getting hurt

But still, just like any couple, you had your moments

And when you did fight, it was typically over Peter’s safety or him not wanting you to tag along for a mission

Your common way of dealing with conflict was the silent treatment

Which is pure torture for Peter

Not only does he miss the sound of your voice

He misses having you around

Seeing your smile

Hearing you laugh from something he said

He felt terrible everytime

He’d go to Tony for advice and spend hours rambling on to him about how sorry he was for yelling at you and for adding to the fight

Tony would half listen while he worked away on a new system and suit, offering a ‘yeah’ and ‘hmm’ every few seconds which pleased Peter who thought his mentor was fully listening

And after almost two hours of his non-stop talking, Tony Stark had reached his limit

Setting his wrench down on the metal table with a thud he turned around to face the young boy

“Kid, why’re you saying all this to me and not her? I mean, I’m all ears but I’m also not Y/n. I know we’re both good looking so I can see why you mixed us up, but you should be talking to her right now.”

Similar to Peter you also had someone to confide in when the road got rocky

Loki had always been the one you shared all your secrets with

As children you were attached at the hip to both your brothers but Loki a smidgen more than Thor

Your father, Odin, had Thor at his side 24/7 growing up

While he was busy learning the ropes to ruling Asgard, Loki and yourself run amuck causing trouble left and right through the royal palace

Through the years of bonding Loki become your best friend, and you his

So when trouble struck in paradise, your older brother was the one you ran to

He’d welcome you with open arms and a questioning gaze

Loki is by far the best listener in your family

Instead of telling you what to do, he asks what you want, which is a refreshing change

After a long talk with Loki you’d search the tower high and low for Peter while ironically Peter was doing the same thing

When you did finally make-up, it felt like coming home

The apologies were so sincere and genuine

You’d end up having a sleepover in your room watching 80’s films that Peter claimed were ‘iconic’ and laying in his arms

And that’s where you felt complete

Fights never occurred often but bickering ???

DAILY

You two bickered playfully over everything under the sun

Like who’s the better superhero; Ironman or Captain American

Or

Debates between living in New York and living in Asgard

Loves to pull up Midgardian inventions and ask you to guess what it is “Princess, what do you think this is?” “Oh! Oh! I’ve seen this one! Tony has one in his kitchen!” “Okay, so what is it?” “Yes, it’s a chicken nugget maker!” “It’s actually an air fryer but we only ever make chicken nuggets in them so I’ll give you a half point.”

Peter sneaking out of your room at the crack of dawn and sprinting to his

As much as Thor and Loki liked him and supported the relationship

He was sure they’d both team up to murder him if they caught him sleeping in your bed

Steve and Tony, who seem to be incapable of sleep, have watched him tiptoe out of your room numerous times but they only share a look of amusement then go back to their previous discussion

Playing hide-n-go-seek and tag on rainy days at the tower

Cuddling in Peter’s bed while he asks you to tell him stories about Asgard

Loves hearing about your childhood and what it’s like to grow up with siblings

Is fascinated when you tell him about Heimdall

Stealing Peter’s hoodies

Especially his Midtown High School ones

They’re insanely soft

Sweet little kisses throughout the day

He's just so sweet and gentle

Loves getting to hold you and snuggle in his bed

Most weekends you spend lounging on the couch with Peter’s head in your lap while you play with his hair

Other times you’re sitting next to Peter on his bed watching him play some video game and asking a million questions “Who is that man, Peter?” “That’s me, he’s the main character of the game. That’s Mario, babe.” “You’re not Mario- you’re Peter.” “No, the main character of this game is Mario, I’m just playing him.” “Oh… and what is that green dinosaur creature?” “That’s Yoshi!” “Adorable.”

Making out between games

In terms of... y'know... sex

Neither of you were keen on rushing the process

You had tip toed on the line multiple times yet never fully crossed it

Until you had decided to make the first real move after being together for about five months

You trusted him with all your heart so it wasn't exactly scary, but rather exciting

He had a way of making you feel safe, comfortable, and loved all at once

Lets be honest, Peter nearly fainted the first time he saw you naked

And still, no matter how many times the two of you have sex,

He worships every inch of you like it was your first time all over again

You couldn't have asked for a better lover

Dating Peter means a new adventure everyday

You’re constantly learning new things about each other and from each other

Despite coming from two very different worlds

You’ve never felt more connected to a soul until Peter came along

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 4)

platonic! mori ougai x f!reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

author’s note: it’s port mafia time! ages are still one year younger than canon

also!! my 100 followers event still has 7 5 4 3  2  1 spot open for requests!! go check out this post for more info!! i’d like to get the whole prompt list done early so i have time to write them! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021)

another doctor? oh wait, another doctor and his daughter

as you expected, ranpo and fukuzawa have not let you go easy after what had happened a couple days prior (3 days ago to be exact)

one of them, or more often than not, the two of them would go visit the bakery at least twice a day

once in the morning right before opening, and the second time right before closing

if they could, they would visit around lunch time, but that was usually yosano

tbh you were thankful that yosano hasn’t been as overbearing as the other two but you knew she probably wanted to give you a break because holy shit are they extremely over protective

currently, it was the fourth day of being watched by the two eldest ada members, but there were no said ada members with you at the moment

and boy were you overjoyed

turns out, the ada has an important escort job for a government official or smth, and on top of that, fukuzawa has a bunch of meetings to attend

even ranpo has his hands full with a couple of difficult murder cases across the country

you’re lowkey, no highkey, worried bc you learned literally 3 days ago that ranpo doesn’t know how to ride the train 😀😀

you were worried abt them, there’s no question, but on the inside you were a bit relieved to which ranpo called you out on it immediately 

that led to the two of you going at each other’s throats for nearly half an hour

let’s just say fukuzawa scolded the two fo you for a while

going back to the present, it was around one pm and you had just finished sending a text message to both fukuzawa and ranpo (cause they insisted) when a little blonde girl with blue eyes wearing a red dress matching with a red bow in her hair and red shoes walked in

she immediately went to the glass case to look at the desserts displayed

as she looked around, you watched her at the corner of your eyes and a with a smile as you wiped down one of the tables

after wiping down the table, you quickly went to go wash your hands and you walked over and stood next to her

you bent slightly and smiled bigger as she stared at one of the treats in the glass

“is that the one you want?”

she nodded without looking away from the glass

you giggled before going to the back and placing the one she wanted on the plate and held it out to her

the blonde was honestly so confused bc one, no adult supervision, and two, there was no tell tale way to know that she had money

to you, she was an open book so when she looked at you, her face immediately read “but i have no money, or a parent...??”

you simply patted her head and pushed along to one of the nearby tables and pulled a chair for her

you did not regret anything when you saw the look on her face when you told her that it was on the house

“name’s elise!” “i’m (y/n)!”

:D

you sat with her for a while continuing to give her sweets she reminded you of ranpo in all honestly and talking abt random things

she mostly complained abt a “rintarou” though

speaking of which, when a man in a doctor’s coat came through the door near screaming “elise-chan! elise-chan!” you figured that was probably the rintarou she was complaining abt

you smiled as you watched the two interact

“elise-chan why would just disappear like that?!”

“i wanted to see rintarou cry”

“so mean!”

...their behavior was questionable but endearing ig

“rintarou” suddenly turned to you, thanking you for “taking care of his daughter bc she’s always getting into trouble”

*cue angry noises and face from elise*

he introduced himself as a “local neighborhood doctor”

you smelled bullshit but didn’t say anything bc he has been kind to you so far

he asked you how he could repay you and you were thinking that you can actually win something bc you’re not refusing an ada member oh you poor oblivious child but you were appalled when elise answered for you

it went like this

“is there anything i can repay you with for taking care of my dear elise-chan? perhaps paying for all the sweets she has eaten?”

“oh no! don’t worry abt that, it’s nothing! it was a pleasure getting to know—”

“let’s buy out all of her food!”

h u h

you knew she enjoyed your pastries and stuff but like w h a t

you inwardly sigh in relief when the doctor agreed with you that “that’s a bit much elise-chan” and you were thanking every deity out there when suddenly

she threw a temper tantrum

you watched in confusion and slight horror at the 180 of the sweet little girl you were talking to like 10 minutes ago

her guardian panicked slightly and tried to get her to calm down but ahaha no that didn’t happen

“WAHH rintarou!! but i want it!! (y/n)’s food is the best i’ve ever had!!”

“b-but elise-chan, we can’t just buy—”

“i’ll wear all the dresses i’ve ever rejected and more if we buy it out right now and keep buying sweets here forever”

“...deal”

your eyes twitch at the “innocent” smiles the two gave you after their “talk”

fast forward literally 5 minutes and you’ve already flipped the close sign on your door with note (saying you’re sold out) and you’re all over the place running around behind the counter trying to fit everything into boxes as the two are sitting on a nearby table lightly chatting

about 20-25, nearly 30 minutes later you finishing packing everything in the glass case

it was a lot

we’re literally talking about tiered cakes and dozens of batches of cookies, cupcakes, literally everything and anything

when the two notice you’re done they get up meet you by the register

“a-ano, you really don’t have to buy all of this...the total is going to be quite large...”

“no worries!”

honestly at this point, you kind of missed the chaotic calls from ranpo that happened like every half hour

you thought you were done being surprised for the day but next thing you know men in suits come into Sakura’s and begin to load the boxes into a black car

dealing with the detectives was already starting to be a handful and now you have to deal whoever the hell these two people where

quite frankly, you were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this

like-

who buys out a whole bakery?!

and who has the money to buy out a whole bakery?!

what kind of job could you possibly have?!

was this guy really just a doctor?!

right before the two leave you call out to them

“a-ah wait! i don’t think i ever caught your name!”

the two blink at you before eyeing each other

“mori ougai” 😄😄

you started smelling bad shits again 

>:/

it was a weird feeling

you felt something off but at the same time, you weren’t really afraid 

and with that the two left

you were already tired from this whole thing but you now get the rest of the day off

so i guess something worked out in your favor

until the next fricking day

again, ranpo and fukuzawa canceled out on you

you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not

and as soon as you thought you were going to have a normal business day, guess who walked through the doors

yeah that’s right

“the local neighborhood doctor” and his daughter

you froze before eyeing them with suspicion

if mori was amused, he didn’t show it, only giving you a smile

elise immediately left his side and practically leaped onto you making you cut yourself with the knife you were holding

well shit now you’re bleeding

it was only 7:15 in the morning; you had literally just opened

you were cursing every deity out there

you quickly grab a nearby and press it against your wound and scrambled around looking for the first aid kit you had nearby

“oh? (y/n)-kun are you bleeding?”

“(y/n) i’m sorry!”

“a-ah, no worries elise-chan”

you really need to stop spacing out bc next thing you know, the sign on your door is flipped to close again (along with the same note from yesterday explaining you’re sold out taped on the door) and you’re sitting at a table with elise in your lap and mori wrapping your hand in a bandage

“tsk tsk (y/n)-kun you need to be more careful...but it is elise-chan’s fault”

“die rintarou!”

“but no worries! it’s not that deep so you don’t need stitches”

“thank you, mori-san, but can i ask why you and elise-chan are here again? not that i mind...”

whether or not you were lying is up to you

“oh we’re here to buy out your stock again!”

“wait what-”

the fuck???

did they not just buy everything yesterday???

frozen, you stare at the man in front if you with said man giving you another “innocent” smile

this little shit

wait till you meet dazai

but i guess that’s why the sign on the door is flipped to close bc you don’t even remember flipping it yourself or taping the note from yesterday to the door

you spent the next half hour trying to convince the two over some tea (your signature one of course) that “no you don’t need to or should buy everything i have, you’re going to deprive the rest of my customers”

cough cough ranpo

like the day before, you were losing this argument

can you just never win?

as you were losing the argument (obviously) you realized that you don’t even know why they want to buy everything again

“mori-san, why do the two of you even want to buy everything in the first place?”

“ah it was elise-chan’s request of course! but i do admit, after trying some of your sweets myself, i grew quite attached! so did the rest of my subordinates after my precious elise-chan made them try it, not like they could refuse her or me; i am their boss after all (y/n)-kun.”

*cue confusion*

“subordinates? wait are those the guys from yesterday?? aren’t you a doctor...?”

“ah ex-doctor actually, i’m the leader of the port mafia”

...

“ah (y/n)-kun that’s quite the coughing fit you have going on, do you need water?”

if it wasn’t obvious, you choked on your tea and had quite the coughing fit; you were wheezing and everything making elise leave you lap and settling for dangling over mori’s shoulders

“...you’re kidding”

“im afraid im not”

this man confuses the hell out of you??

like-

w h y would he just say that, to you of all people

but it explains the bad shits you were smelling/feeling yesterday

“are you afraid?”

“being completely honest with you, mori-san, not really”

“and why is that?”

you simply shrug not really knowing the answer

you aren’t lying, you just aren’t

maybe bc yesterday, he seemed more like a doting parent than the boss of the most criminal organization of yokohama

yes, you’ve heard the rumors, obviously, but just saying, if the port mafia wanted to hurt you, you’d probably be dead in a ditch by now

and they haven’t really been a bother to you, they were more like background characters in your life

well

until yesterday of course

mori simply raises an eyebrow and a smile seemingly okay with your very vague answer

“why did you tell me that mori-san?”

the man only smiles a bit wider at you and this time, you’re the one raising an eyebrow

“just a feeling” 

yeah you were starting to smell bad shits again

“and besides! elise-chan seems quite fond of you (y/n)-kun! i wasn’t planning on doing anything to you in the first place, but even if i wanted to, i don’t think i could! i wouldn’t want to upset my dearest cute elise-chan”

“die rintarou!”

“that’s mean elise-chan!”

your eyes began to twitch in slight annoyance

cause istg the duality of this man—

this strange strange man

oh dearest you haven’t even met dazai yet

after that has been said and done, somehow you found yourself in front of stores being dragged by elise

how did you end up there you ask? i don’t know either so there’s nothing we can do abt that

eventually, you found yourself holding a bunch of shopping bags full of dresses and clothes of the sort

some of it your size and the others elise’s

...

“mori-san?”

“yes (y/n)-kun?”

“why do i have bags of clothing that are fit for me rather than elise?”

“oh that’s because elise refused to go without you and if you didn’t get anything!”

yeah

that makes perfect sense, of course

you could see why elise kept on complaining abt this guy

the two of you actually bonded over making fun of him

you have n o fear

actually, maybe just a little

the three of you were out for basically the entire day and you were exhausted

cause holy shit there was a lot of money wasted, shopping bags obtained, and walking involved

it was around 5 pm when the three of you were making it back to Sakura’s

along the way you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with mori

even if he was a questionable person to be having a pleasant conversation with, you enjoyed it nonetheless

you hoped that it makes it harder to get rid of you if he ever changed his mind but we don’t talk abt that

anywho

when the three of you arrived, you immediately dumped all the bags you were holding and went straight to work packaging everything for “the local neighborhood doctor”

before they left, mori agreed to not buy out all of your stock except for some occasions but instead settled ordering massive batches of a little bit of everything every few days

how that’s not the same as buying everything you won’t ever know

you were standing outside Sakura’s watching the two get into the car that had arrived when suddenly, mori turned to you

“ah (y/n)-kun, i know that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this, it wouldn’t be like you to, but just a reminder, it would probably be in your best interest not to let anything slip to anyone okay? we wouldn’t want any enemies using you against the port mafia. so take care of yourself hm? see you next time”

and bippity boppity boo just like that, they were gone

how that man managed to get your personality down in just like 10 hours you don’t want to know

and that’s basically the story of how you started making more food/bake goods to sell

true to his word, every few days, or sometimes consecutive days, mori called you and made a large order

and i mean large

on those days, someone from the port mafia would pick it up and then you get paid

thankfully, by increasing the amount of food you made, you always had enough to put out on display and to sell even after the large order

before doing that, on those days you didn’t have a large stock, someone by the name of edogawa ranpo would weep at your feet

he will deny this; after all, great detectives don’t do weeping

or so he says

and speaking of the detective, you never did tell him what had transpired the two days he and fukuzawa were absent on checking on you

but tbh, i even think ranpo could’ve deduct this one

you didn’t tell him bc you were afraid, no of course not that’s ridiculous mori, in elise’s words, was a loser

you didn’t tell him bc you knew he and fukuzawa would flip the fuck out

and that would be a major inconvenience to you

you didn’t see the point in telling them anyway

so whatever, it’s like it’ll be important

and if ranpo and fukuzawa noticed the abundant of bags near the door leading up to the staircase when they visited you at the end of the day they didn’t say anything

jk

of course one of them said smth

“ne (n/n)-chan since when did you like to buy a bunch of things; waste of money if you could just be using that money to make more food so you wouldn’t sell out right away and have food to feed me”

your eyes twitched

he could’ve worded that a little better but whatever

it is ranpo-san after all

“i just got carried away since i closed up early; you know it isn’t often i get to go shopping”

and if he smelled your bullshit he didn’t say anything

for real this time

that slightly concerns you ngl

anyways

let’s just say quite a few heads were turned when they saw their boss leading a bunch of lower level subordinates carrying many light pink boxes of different sizes to his office for the second time

oh and just another thing

*whispers* he was lying when elise made his other subordinates eat your food; they kept it all to themselves”

was that a ruse to help lead the revelation of his real occupation who knows

“(y/n)-kun is a very interesting person don’t you think so elise-chan?”

“quiet. i’m eating cake.”

“that’s so mean elise-chan!”

<<previous // next >>

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[waatermelon-sugaar]

Want to kiss?

Pairing = Poe x reader

Words = 5.2k

Summary = You and Poe are friends. Acting married won’t lead to anything. Will it?

Warnings = SMUT (18+only); semi-public fingering, semi-public grinding, implication of a bj, also language 

A/N =  Prompt no.23 requested by @witchyavenger as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” w/ Poe  and bolded in text

Also i might have concentrated more on the smut, than the plot, so if there are a couple of plot holes, that’s why, im not sorry 

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

You weren’t looking forward to this. 

A small, masochistic part of you was, but the larger part of you, the more sensible part, wanted to scream at the prospect. 

Pretending to be a couple with Poe, to have the real thing so close in front of you, yet knowing that you couldn’t, made you want to cry. In fact, you already had. 

The two of you had been briefed together, and told you would be acting as married senators at a gala. The way Poe’s face had tightened at the word ‘married’, made your chest hurt. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to before you’d drawn your own conclusions. 

You’d tried not to think about it too much as the briefing had continued, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, and having to blink a little faster. You’d managed to keep it together until you’d gone back to your room, where you’d immediately burst into tears. 

Poe couldn’t even stand the idea of being married to you?

You knew he wasn’t interested in you like that, but that hurt. Hurt more than you’d anticipated. Poe only had to pretend for a mission. And he didn’t want to do that? Now you’re sitting in front of the mirror, and you blow out a big breath. Not right now. Your make-up’s half on, and you don’t have the time to redo it if you start crying, now of all times. 

And the truth was, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew Poe. He was your friend and Commander, nothing more. He’d never given you any indication that he’d ever wanted more, never acted as anything but a good friend to you.  

Now you were in the bathroom of a hotel on Coruscant, and Poe was next door and stars you had to share a bed tonight but you didn’t even want to think about that yet . All you had to do was finish your make-up, do your hair, put your fancy dress on, hope that Poe could bear to pretend to be married to you while the two of you looked for an opportunity to sneak upstairs, break into Senator Sewinn’s office, and gather any incriminating evidence stored there. Simple.

And that wasn’t counting getting out, and sharing a bed with Poe tonight, before your ship departed for the Resistance base tomorrow. 

To put it simply, you were fucked. 

But you’d pushed the emotions away, not wanting to address it. Not wanting to have that horrendous conversation. After all, it wasn’t a crime for someone not to fancy you. 

Now you took a moment for yourself, looking up at the corner where the wall met the ceiling, and exhaling deeply. 

Ok, think. What’s your first job? Make up. 

You took your routine step-by step, finishing your makeup and hair, and pulling your dress on. You took the time to admire yourself in the mirror before you stepped out to face Poe, knowing that he was no doubt going to look absolutely dashing, while not caring either way about your appearance. 

You knew that, except you did look good, even if you said so yourself. You let yourself breathe once more, hands fluttering out any invisible creases in the front of your dress. It had a nice cut for your chest, falling to the floor with a split down your right leg. 

Ok. “Poe?” You knocked on the door before you returned to your room, not wanting to catch him in the middle of changing.

“I’m ready!” Comes the response, and you can’t help yourself, exhaling heavily again before greeting Poe. 

You’d been prepared. Or so you thought.

You’d never seen Poe in a suit before, and it’s more than you could have ever imagined. He fills it out nicely, shoulders looking broader than ever. He’s brushed his hair neatly back, curls subdued for the night. They look darker than ever, strands curling over the back of his collar. Desire and heat are pooling low in your belly, your eyes slow in their movements as they graze over him

He’s freshly shaved after his shower, bronze skin glowing in the yellow light of the lamps scattered around the room. Your mouth is dry, and your breath shaky again. Poe’s looking at you funny, and you must be staring, so you clear your throat, shaking your head a little. 

His tie is slightly to one side, so you step towards him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Can I-?” Your voice is a murmur as your hands reach out, one going to the centre of Poe’s neck. You straighten his tie, ignoring the warmth of his body below your hands and step back. 

You hadn’t realised how intimate that would feel, how close you’d have to get, and now you feel overwhelmed, your body heating up, your heart beating faster. Poe’s looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, like he can’t quite figure out what your motives are, he can’t decide what you want. 

Only, it’s not unusual, is it? Poe’s always been a touchy-feely person, hugging, holding hands, touching whenever he could, it didn’t tend to matter who it was, or what the situation was. 

Except this feels different somehow, heavier. Like you crossed a line in your friendship that you weren’t aware existed. That the intimacy of fixing Poe’s tie, being this close to his body is teetering beyond friendship. Poe’s still looking at you with this heavy gaze, and maybe there’s something in his eyes, but you can’t bear to meet them, can’t bear to face the rejection you’ll find there.

So you swallow, fixing your gaze on the section of wall just to the left of his face, ignoring how your palms are singing from touching Poe, even through his shirt. They itch to do it again, hungry for more, and it takes all of your self control to stop yourself and to take a step back, widening the space between you. 

“Shall we go?” You’re the first to speak, and at your words, Poe seems to snap out of it, closing down, any softness in his eyes, in his face, disappearing. 

He nods, stiffer than he normally is around you, and you can only hope that he’ll loosen up when you get downstairs. “Here's your ring.” He reaches into his breast pocket and hands you a wedding band, gold and simple.

And you’ve been so distracted by the top half of him that you hadn’t seen his on his ring finger, hanging loosely at his side. You don’t say anything as you slip the cold jewellery on, your heart stuttering at the implication of something so plain. 

Stepping out of your room, you take Poe’s offered elbow, and the two of you start your descent to the lobby. It takes you a while to get used to the breeze on your right leg, where your skin is exposed. The building is an old one, corridors extending in every direction with bedrooms and storerooms scattered in a seemingly random order. The lift is quiet, muzak playing faintly out of a tiny speaker. 

“We’ve got this,” you murmur under your breath reassuring yourself. Poe looks at you, but doesn’t say anything, just patting your hand where it rests on his arm. 

The transformation in him when you step into the hall is amazing. His smile, which you recognise enough to tell it’s fake, spreads across his face, and as you enter, he turns his head to your ear, murmuring, “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you looked before.” 

There’s suddenly no air as you turn to look back at Poe, that familiar grin tugging on his lips. Your faces are close again, like a married couples, and you don’t try to hide the pleased look that’s clear across your face, feeling more flustered than you expected. 

His eyes are encouraging, and you’ve never noticed how warm they are, what a soft brown. They’re lighter than you thought, having never been so close to his face before, dark irises increasing in size as he looks at you, waiting for your response. 

You’re married, remember?

So you press your cheek to his smooth one, with a soft “thanks.” 

You turn back to the crowd, missing how Poe’s gaze catches on you for a second longer than normal, instead concentrating on how no one noticed you walk in. Good. The room is busy already, you and Poe one of the last stragglers arriving. Soft music, not dissimilar to the one in lift is playing, largely drowned out by voices chattering away.

The ballroom is light and airy, yellow lamps creating a warm atmosphere, with a marble floor that causes your steps to click. There’s a bar near the entrance, and a stage to your left. 

The beginning of the night is spent hanging off Poe’s arm, making conversation with Senators about brain-dead topics, Poe’s hand moving to squeeze yours in warning whenever you make a slightly too sarcastic comment, usually about the First Order really having an impact, and how it was about time someone made a monopoly of the galaxy anyway. 

You push down the urge to be more sarcastic, if only to feel Poe’s skin on yours again. 

No one seems to notice, especially not when you start to zone out, looking for opportunities to sneak away. The office had to be around this room somewhere; hours of poring over maps of the building had revealed a lot of empty space around the ballroom. And now Senator Sewinn was walking out of a concealed door in the back right of the room, which had to led to his office. 

Unfortunately, he and a number of other important, puffed up looking peacocks of politicians seem intent to stand right in front of it, drawing, if anything, more attention to the door. 

You huff, unknowingly scowling. What was the point of a secret door when you act like that? You may as well make a sign saying ‘Secret, Do Not Enter.’

“You alright, sweetheart?” Poe’s the one to drag you back to where you are, and you do one of those smug, self-centred couple smiles, one that you’d seen far too often, smoothing out your face. 

“Yes, sorry honey.” You step back from the group, suddenly needing a moment. “If you’ll excuse me.” You direct this to the rest of the group, mumbling something about getting a drink, stumbling away, sure they won’t miss you. Poe’s behind you, his presence both stifling and a comfort. 

When you reach the bar, his hand is on the small of your back, and he’s still so warm. How can his hand spread heat through your body like this? Through your dress? “Hey,” his mouth is by your ear again while you wait for the bartender. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head, unsure yourself. “I don’t know Poe. Nothing.” Maybe it’s him. You can’t look directly at him, fearing you’ll combust. 

It’s definitely him. 

But instead, you turn your mouth back to his ear, close enough your mouth just grazes his earlobe as you talk. “Senator Sewinn isn’t leaving the door behind him.”

Poe looks behind you in a casual sweep of the room as you order two drinks. 

When he turns back, his chest is pressing against you now, his arm around your waist, caging you into the bar, and you hope you don’t look as hot as you feel. You practically vibrate under his touch, the urge to push back into him stronger than ever. Poe’s blazer isn’t buttoned up, and it’s almost around you, you can feel the silk of his tie on your back.

Your breath sticks in your throat as he bends to whisper, again. This man is going to kill you. “Good spot sweetheart.” 

Don’t press your hips back into him, you remind yourself, he’s there, but don’t do it. 

You can smell the cologne Poe’s wearing too, the one he only uses on really special occasions and it’s making your head spin. Maybe you need some air. 

You accept the drinks from the bartender, passing over some credits and turning in Poe’s arms, the cold glasses in your palms helping you a little, distracting you from the heat which seems to have settled in your core, pulsing in between your legs. 

Except now you’re facing Poe, facing those warm brown eyes, and are they darker than they were before? Is this better or worse? Face to face, or chest against your back? 

He’s licking his lips as he’s taking the drink from you and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Breathe, in and out. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll move,” it takes a second for you to tune back in, to realise what Poe is talking about. “Sewinn has to make a speech at the other end of the hall, we’re to move then, when everyone’s distracted, remember?” 

His voice is soft, quiet, and you do remember, that the movements he’s describing are all part of the plan, have been ever since the brief, but this man who’s crowding you into the bar, the sharp edge cutting a vertical line into your back, is distracting you from the mission. 

This mission, which is important for the Resistance. 

The mission, which you can’t fail at. 

And, more than that, you can’t let Poe down. 

He’s not interested, you have to remind yourself when a pang of disappointment shoots through you as he steps back. This is fake, you’re fake married. 

Somehow the reminder doesn’t help. 

You sip your drink, cold liquid shooting down your throat as you look anywhere but at him. 

The introductory section drags. You don’t return to the group you were talking to before, instead choosing to stay near the bar, exchanging the odd observation with Poe, the two of you consistently getting closer than you really need to talk. 

He’s acting more normal now, his smile more natural as he relaxes. His hand has found a home on you, it doesn’t seem to matter where, moving from your shoulder to your back to your waist. You don’t dare mention it, afraid he’ll stop, when that’s the last thing you want. 

Sometimes you feel like a black hole, desperately looking for love and touch, and sucking up whatever you can find, always needing more. You hate to think that maybe that’s what you cherish most about your friendship with Poe - that even as his friend, he touches you, and hugs you, and gives you a kiss. Although it does spark the idea of Poe being cuddly in bed, that if you ever went out with him, he would always try and have his hands on you. You allow yourself these soft dreams for a moment, before tuning back in before Poe can notice. 

You’ve nearly finished your drink when the quiet background music starts to fade, and to your delight Sewinn begins to move. The crowd easily parts for him, and you wonder briefly what it is about him that makes people so responsive. What would it be like to have that kind of power? 

You grasp Poe’s hand, feeling his calluses on your palm when he makes his move, pulling him to stay with you a second longer. “Wait for him to settle,” you say, knowing there’s no rush, yet. 

And so you do, the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, pretending to listen to the senator’s drivel. And then he turns, looking for the trophy he’s using to make his announcement more convincing, and you pull Poe along the back wall, still holding his hand as you lean against the hidden door and allowing a grin as it clicks open. 

And you’re in. 

You blink in surprise when you realise it’s really been that easy. You’d expected at least a locked door to get in the way. But no, you’re standing in the Senator's office, looking at a large desk, footsteps suddenly muffled by the plush carpet and still holding Poe’s hand. 

You drop it like you've been burned, not daring to look at Poe as you go to the other side of the desk. There’s bookshelves around all the walls, creating a slightly dark and gloomy look, especially in contrast with the light ballroom next door. 

You start going through the drawers as Poe plugs in the holostick that he’d been given, downloading files for later reading. Most drawers contain useless information, files on drinks needed for the party, a bill for the band later, business cards and other junk. There’s one locked drawer you can’t open, even when you try and pick it. 

You give it a kick in frustration when it still doesn’t open, earning a snicker from Poe. “Did that help, sweetheart?”  

You scowl at him, not bothering to answer, and determined to not mention the fact that your foot really hurts now. “How long left?” you ask, deflecting instead.

“Two minutes,” is the answer and you nod, going to one of the bookshelves, hand idly tracing down a number of spines. None are in a language you recognise, and when you turn back to tell Poe so, you find him leaning against the desk and watching you. His legs seem longer at this angle, thighs … bigger. And you’ve seen this man with a harness wrapped around his legs like a second skin. 

You wonder what it would be like to … You shake your head before you can finish that thought, mouth dry even as you remind yourself that Poe’s your friend. Your friend. “I can’t read any of these,” you tell him instead, watching his head snap up to meet your eyes as you talk. 

And then a lot of things happen very quickly. 

Before Poe can respond, the holostick beeps, he unplugs it, just as the door to the ballroom clicks open. Before you can react, he’s closing the steps between you, holostick clasped in a fist, crowding you into the bookshelf behind you. When he speaks, it’s a low, quiet, “I’m sorry,” his forearm coming to rest next to your head, and you can smell him again, eyes falling closed like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The scent is familiar and grounding, and even as your heart rate picks up, you feel calmer, Poe’s other hand holding your cheek. His head turns, your noses bumping and his lips are so close to you … he’s going to kiss you.

And then he stops, except he’s moving like he is kissing you, and you realise his hand is connecting your two faces and there’s someone else in the room, so you don’t think, you just react. You widen your legs so Poe can step between them, and you let out a breath, nearly but not quite grinding on his leg, moaning low in your throat as one of your hands flies to the nape of Poe’s neck.

“Excuse me!” The guard’s voice is sharp, and cross, which is fair enough, you later reason, when you think that you wouldn’t want to find two people snogging in your boss’s office. Awkward one to report, that. 

Poe is slow to separate from you, his eyes dark when he opens them, and you're breathing embarrassingly fast considering he didn’t actually kiss you. He turns, standing just in front of you, a protective stance, whether he realises it or not. 

“Sorry, sir,” his voice is more hoarse than normal, and you never realised what a good actor Poe is. You sheepishly smile at the guard who just huffs and ushers you outside, grumbling about how disrespectful the two of you are and warning you not to do it again. 

The two of you stand in the hall, Sewinn just wrapping up his speech. Your head is spinning and you can’t think. 

Poe seems entirely unaffected by the whole thing, winking at you as he grins, joining in with the clapping at the end of the speech. You copy him, but you feel like you’re moving at half the speed of everyone else, your whole body screaming to be surrounded by Poe again. 

“Are you alright?” Poe asks you, and is it that obvious that you aren’t? You can only nod, not trusting your voice to be steady. “I’m sorry … about, in there, I just-”

“Stars, Poe.” You interrupt, not wanting to hear it. “It’s fine, it was good, quick thinking on your part.” You force a smile, and if Poe notices, he drops it. “We did it, though,” You add after a second, the silence between you somehow worse. 

Poe grins, and you know you’ll be ok, the breathless, hot feeling gradually fading, your senses tuning back into the room around you, hearing the band setting up, everyone moving around you. “We did.” Is all he says, extending his hand in mock performance when the band start playing. “May I have this dance?”

You allow yourself to relax, graciously accepting it. “Why, kind sir, of course!” The two of you are giggling as you start to dance, neither of you aware of what the steps are, just concentrating on having a good time. The music isn’t particularly great; the stuffy sort that politicians think make them look classy, when really it just makes them look like pretentious assholes. 

You both get bored of this pretty soon, Poe losing his jacket as the two of you get warmer and warmer, dancing ridiculously in a corner. 

When your feet begin to hurt you pull on Poe’s hand, taking him away from the dancefloor. The hall is hot, and you want fresh air. You feel flushed, the cold air nice on your warm cheeks. 

You’re walking along the corridor back to your room, talking about the best song you’d play to start a party. Poe’s jacket under hanging off his arms, hands stuffed in his pockets. You try not to look directly at him too much as the two of you discuss better songs. “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy is one that would definitely get everyone going.” Poe says it likes it’s the simplest thing in the world, his answer the definitive one, while you snort. 

“You only think that because you want an excuse to ask everyone that all the time. No - Gimme, Gimme, Gimme is the best. Hands down.” Maybe you’re just as bad as he is. “Rasputin is another good one,” you add, “there’s dance moves and everything.” 

“No!” Poe’s voice is low, exaggerating his horror by dragging out his vowels, being over-dramatic now, “the best one for dance moves is Rock the Boat.” 

You ruffle his hair in that way he hates. “You like that because you can sit down!” Your laughter is interrupted when Poe’s head snaps up, looking towards the end of the corridor.

You pause, looking for the cause of the change in Poe’s attention. Hearing the voices approaching you, he grabs your hand, pulling you into an alcove, pulling the curtain across. There’s hardly room for the two of you to breathe, bodies pressed together, wall cold on your back as you listen to the footsteps coming closer. 

“... and Sewinn is going to want his whores there.” A nasal voice, coming closer. 

You stop breathing, glancing at Poe, who shakes his head. “The usual ones?” The question is spat by a deeper voice, while the other person presumably nods. “Fuck! They think they have more influence, always looking down on us, when Sewinn listens to us.” 

Poe’s hand fumbles around yours, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently in comfort, sending electricity up your arm. The same deep voice continues down the corridor, passing you. “And he just can’t get enough of them, especially that boy with the awful fashion sense, I mean really...” 

The voice fades gradually, passing you in a blur in the corner of your eye. You determinedly concentrate on looking at the fluttering curtain, a shade of blood red, suddenly too shy to look at Poe. 

This mission has been a lot. Working with Poe, who you have a desperate crush on, pretending to be married, and now standing far too close for comfort while you listen to people talk complain about influence in the Senate. You can’t hold it in any longer, the two of you dissolving into giggles, bodies collapsing forwards, Poe’s jacket landing on the floor with a soft whump.

And maybe it’s the release of this tension but when you finally compose yourselves, leaning back as much as you can in the small space even though you could leave, or maybe it’s the fact that his thumb is now massaging your palm, but the words tumble out before you can think. 

“Poe I like you.” He hasn’t let go of your hand yet, which is a good sign, right? But he also hasn’t said anything, so you keep talking. “Like you, like you, I mean.” Why can’t you shut up? There’s something unreadable in Poe’s eyes. “Like I would quite like to go on a date with you sometime and maybe -” 

Eventually Poe stops you with his free hand, covering your mouth for a beat, enough to get you to shut up. Is he closer? You didn’t think it was possible. His face is unreadable, even as he looks into your eyes, considering something “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” 

Your mind goes blank, your mouth dropping open as Poe removes his hand, going to his tie, loosening the knot. “What?” you just manage to stammer out. 

Poe just tips his head, like he’s considering the best angle to kiss you. “I like you like you too, sweetheart.” He’s teasing, but it’s fond, you realise with a rush of affection. All night he’s been looking at you like this, with fondness. “Can I kiss you?” He’s almost begging. 

Words escape you. You nod, unable to breathe, unable to talk anymore. Poe leans towards you, tilting his head, eyes closed, long lashes fluttering on his cheeks. At the last second, you remember to close your eyes, kissing him back. 

His hand moves to your hip, pulling you towards him, where you can feel him, already half-hard under his trousers, pressing against you. Poe slides his hand under the split in your skirt, warm hand on your skin, pulling your leg up as his hand travels down your thigh, settling into the crook of your knee, opening your legs and pulling your core closer to him.  

You catch on, wrapping your leg happily around his waist, not caring how exposed you must be, gasping when you grind against him again, and Poe’s even harder now, the seam of his trousers catching on something pleasurable between your legs. You’re already more aroused than you really have any right to be, considering he’s hardly done anything to you yet, but you’ve been thrumming at a low level all evening. 

You’re still kissing, even as he grinds against you, pushing you more into the wall behind you, and you feel overwhelmed, already, in the best way possible. All you can hear are your combined breaths, breathy sighs that fill the small space. You feel hot, nearly overheating, the cool wall balmy on your flushed skin behind you. 

You forget where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, Poe taking over all your senses. His tongue is in your mouth, teeth biting at your lip and all you can do is let him. Your free hand moves to his hair, tugging gently and feeling a pull of satisfaction in your core at his low groan. His hair is soft, and thick and you don’t want to let go, the sudden image of pulling on his hair when his head’s between your thighs jumping to your mind’s eye.

You finally let go of his hand so you can hold onto his shoulders, the crisp white shirt becoming crumpled in your grasp and helping you balance on one leg. Poe’s now-free hand pulls your skirt fully up around your waist, no doubt causing some creases and teases you, playing with the hem of your underwear, fingers tracing circles into your hip.

You groan into his mouth, you can feel yourself getting wetter, and your hips unconsciously buck into his hands, wanting more. When Poe pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, you’re both breathless. His eyes have blown wide, and you’re sure yours look the same. You’re panting a little, even as Poe keeps his movements regular, grinding his dick into you, moving his hips up and adjusting his position with every moan you let out. 

“So good to me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing down your neck now. “You feel so good, you … urgh … you don’t even know how much you turn me on…” He sounds breathless, even as he continues to talk. 

And then he surges up, hitting your clit and you can’t help it, crying out. Pleasure’s building in your body, all centred around Poe, and you want more of it, more of him. You can’t see Poe’s face, but you feel the smirk he presses to your skin as he does it again. And then his hand that’s playing with your underwear moves, pulling it away from your skin, dipping his hand down and stroking one long finger through your wet folds. 

The moan you let out is broken. “Poe…” That’s all it takes for him to push his finger inside you, motioning gently towards himself. You can hear how wet you are as a second finger joins the first, a steady squelch in time with his movements. His fingers are thicker than yours are, and you feel dizzy at the thought of being stretched on his dick. His palm is grazing against your clit with every movement, steady and repetitive. 

Poe’s fingers feel so good, moving inside you, gently building you higher and higher while he watches your face, kissing your jaw, your ear. Your moans come out in breathy whines, repetitions of his name, and soft oh’s of pleasure. You can only hold onto him, trusting he’ll catch you if your leg gives out, only half-aware that anyone could walk past and hear or see Poe utterly destroy you. 

You start to moan more and before you even realise what’s happening, Poe’s greedily kissing you as you fall apart from his fingers. He keeps kissing you as he works you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers, his tongue in your mouth while your hips buck forwards still. 

You’d feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. “Yes, by the way,” His voice is low as he moves to kiss the soft spot under your ear now. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

You can only frown as Poe removes his fingers from inside you, glistening wet and placing them on your lips, pushing gently until you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers, your own tart taste filling your mouth. “What?” You mumble, Poe’s digits muffling your voice. 

“I’d quite like to go on date with you sometime too.” 

You nod slowly, your post-orgasm haze lifting slower than normal. “Can we go to bed first?” Poe’s fingers are still half in your mouth, and you suck on the tips a little for emphasis, widening your eyes. And then you get an idea. “Or, actually,” you purr, removing your leg from Poe’s waist, and gently pushing his shoulders so he hits the wall behind him as you drop to your knees in front of him. “Maybe we should stay here for a minute.” 

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

this is the suit I was imagining, but the hair was all wrong for Poe. also I know that there are technically no suits in Star Wars canon, but I wanted to write it this way so

[samwisethewitch]

Practicing Witchcraft in Secret

I love things that are traditionally “witchy.” I love dressing candles with herbs. I love setting things on fire. I love making poppets and charms. But not everyone is able to be so obvious in their craft. For various reasons, some witches choose to be secretive about their magical practice.

Why Would You Want to Keep It a Secret?

Historically, witches kept their practice a secret because it wasn’t safe to be open about their beliefs. In the late middle ages, the Catholic Church began to actively persecute witchcraft, herbal medicine, and folk spirituality with the publication of “witch hunting guides” like the Malleus Maleficarum. This witch hunting fervor would continue even after the Protestant Reformation, with some of the most famous witch hunts (such as the Salem trials) carried out by Protestants.

It is important to remember that the witch hunts were political at their heart and that very few of the people executed for witchcraft were what we would recognize today as witches. They were mostly women, poor folks, or members of ethnic or religious minorities. But even so, the danger of being accused of witchcraft and/or devil worship drove many medieval witches, herbalists, and pagans to hide their practice.

The United States experienced a modern witch hunt of sorts in the 1980s with the “Satanic Panic.” We still don’t entirely understand what caused this cultural phenomenon, but what we do know is that it resulted in widespread paranoia about devil worship. Anything that could be misconstrued as “satanic” was shunned or outright persecuted, from Dungeons & Dragons to heavy metal music to nature-based religions like Wicca — and, yes, witchcraft. People who had been comfortably open about their spirituality suddenly found themselves practicing behind closed doors. If you’re over 30, you may remember this. If you’re under 30, the Satanic Panic probably shaped how your parents view witchcraft and paganism, and they may still be grossly misinformed as a result.

Even today, a lot of witches choose to keep their practice a secret because it would be unsafe or uncomfortable to go public. Many witches have family members, friends, or coworkers who would be uncomfortable if they knew about their witchcraft, and may even choose to end the relationship because of it. Some witches live in culturally Christian areas where it might be harder for them to get jobs or make friends if they were openly self-identifying as a witch. Some of us live in places where an outdoor ritual could get the cops called on us, or have missionaries showing up to save our souls.

On the other hand, some witches just like privacy. You may feel like your spirituality is nobody’s business but yours, and for that reason you may prefer to do witchcraft in a way that is more subtle and secretive. Desire for privacy is a perfectly valid reason to stay “in the broom closet.”

There are also some magical traditions that require members to swear a vow of secrecy and to keep the group’s secrets. However, these traditions usually require an in-person initiation, so I won’t be discussing them here.

Inconspicuous Witchcraft

If you haven’t read my posts about magical journaling and kitchen magic, I highly recommend you check them out. Those are two forms of magic that are very easy to practice discretely.

No matter what your reason for keeping your practice a secret, here are a few tips for making magic without drawing attention.

Use scented candles. Candle magic is one of the easiest and most versatile forms of spellwork, and all it requires is a candle and your intention. Scented candles are perfect for undercover witches because, rather than adding herbs and oils, you can simply buy a scent that matches your intention. (For example, a vanilla candle is great for love, while a pumpkin spice scent will attract wealth.) Plus, they’re so commonplace that no one will think twice about seeing one in your bedroom or on your desk at work. If you’re a purist and want to make sure you’re using real plant materials, you can get all natural candles scented with essential oils — but lots of witches use artificial scents and get good results, so don’t feel like you have to go with the more expensive option.

Diffuse essential oils. Essential oils contain the concentrated essence of a plant, which makes them a must-have tool for witches. Essential oils are also extremely popular right now, both for holistic healing and for aromatherapy, so you definitely won’t attract any negative attention for using them. You can get a good essential oil diffuser for under $20 online. Some brands overcharge for their oils, but you can find good quality oils for under $10. When choosing an essential oil, look at the magical correspondences for the plant it is made from. You can diffuse oils to infuse your space with their energy, similar to the way you would use incense.

Enchant your perfume. You can choose a perfume to match your intention or make your own custom perfume by mixing essential oils in a carrier oil. Focus on your intention as you spray the perfume, letting it infuse your energy field with magic. You can also buy magical perfume blends from witch-owned businesses online or on Etsy.

Learn shufflemancy. “Shufflemancy” is a modern form of divination that is done by putting a playlist on shuffle — whatever song plays first contains an intuitive message for you, either in the lyrics or in how it makes you feel. You can find playlists specifically made for divination by Googling “shufflemancy playlist,” or you can make your own by compiling a playlist of songs from different genres that deal with different topics. Just be sure to keep it diverse — if your playlist only has love songs on it, you might not get very helpful messages if you have a question about your career.

Learn bibliomancy. This divination method is similar to shufflemancy, but much older. Bibliomancy is done by asking your question while holding a book, focusing on your question while connecting with the book’s energy, and then opening it to a random page. There is a long, long tradition within Christianity of doing this with the Bible — if you feel connected to a certain sacred text, you could use it for bibliomancy. You could also use a book of poetry, a novel, or even a dictionary. However, I think it’s important to use a book you feel a connection to, rather than something randomly grabbed off the shelf.

Use Pinterest and Spotify as manifestation tools. You may have heard of vision boards, a tool used to manifest something by creating a detailed collection of images that match your intention. Pinterest boards are already essentially virtual vision boards, and creating one with focused intent can be a spell by itself. Likewise, you can use Spotify playlists for manifestation. To do this, create a playlist of songs that match your intention (songs about money or love, for example) and listen to it while meditating on your desired outcome.

Choose your outfits with intention. You can pick clothes based on color correspondences (see this post for a guide to color magic), the material they are made from (a wool sweater vs. a cotton T-shirt), or some other symbolism. For example, if you want to feel empowered, you might wear leopard print to channel the energy of a fierce predator.

Enchant a piece of jewelry for a specific purpose. You can choose your jewelry based on the correspondence of the metal or gemstones it is made from, make your own piece, or use whatever you already have on hand. You can enchant this jewelry by passing it over the flame of a candle or through the vapor of an essential oil diffuser. State what purpose you want this charm to serve, either out loud or in your mind. Wear this jewelry whenever you need to tap into that energy, and make sure to cleanse it often.

Create magical art. If you want to manifest something, draw or paint a picture of it. You don’t have to be a skilled artist — what matters is that you are taking your mental image of what you want and bringing it into the physical world. Fold up the picture and keep it in your pillow, or in some other special place. Likewise, if you want to banish something, draw or paint a picture of it and then rip it into little pieces and throw it out. This ritual allows you to purge yourself of the negative emotions tied to the thing you are banishing.

Take a magical bath. We rarely have more privacy than when we’re in the tub. Taking a bath is already a ritual of sorts, and it’s easy to add magic. You can, of course, make magical bath salts by mixing essential oils into Epsom salt, but you can also create bath spells with household objects. For example, a bath with salt and vinegar will clear up nasty energy, while adding milk to your bath will attract love and abundance.

Practicing in secret does not have to mean a less deep or well-rounded practice. There are lots of magical acts that can be done subtly or kept private. The suggestions in this post are by no means exhaustive, and I hope they will give you some ideas for other ways to fill your life with undercover magic.

Resources:

“Introduction” from The Malleus Maleficarum at http://www.malleusmaleficarum.org

The Fat Feminist Witch podcast, “Episode 34 — Witches, Midwives, and Doulas”

“Most witches are women, because witch hunts were all about persecuting the powerless” by Bridget Marshall for The Conversation

New World Witchery podcast, “Episode 118 — The Satanic Panic”

[anjuschiffer]

The Fabric Roll Of Fate

So this has been sitting in my WIPs since October of last year... Finally had the time to finish it up! More like I couldn’t sleep so I finally worked on it

Hope you enjoy it!

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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo (welcome to the permanent taglist!)

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It was one of those random family outings, one of those moments that Damian was reluctantly dragged to

He just wanted to stay home and train for the upcoming fencing tournament in his school, one of the few things that Damian looked forward to in the school year

Yet here he was, being held captive and listening to Garyson talk for the umpteenth time about his daughter’s latest adventure

Finding an opening, Damian slips off, walking through alleyways to escape his family, eventually arriving to the fashion district of Gotham

He decides to enter the first store he sees, seeing as his hands were starting to get cold

He hated Gotham’s chilly and cold seasons. Spring was his favorite season.

As he ventures inside the store, he starts to look at the fabric inside, now wondering why fashion designers were so picky with their fabrics

It was when he saw two identical rolls of fabric that he decided to investigate for his answer

As he runs his hands across two white fabrics (linen and velvet), he notices the slight differences, not noticing that he was starting to mumble his observations

It was then that his hand bumps into someone else’s Damian turning to see a girl his age.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!” She quickly apologizes. “You were probably in your zone and-”

“I was simply looking at them. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

Damian watches as the girl relaxes and smiles at him.

“I see. Well, if you need any help, I’d be happy to help! Is there a certain reason you’re-”

“I was thinking of hiring someone to make me a suit for an upcoming event-” Damian attempted to lie (although he technically didn’t as his family was looking for one...not like he was going to tell them about the one he just found), taken aback when the girl looked at him with twinkling eyes. What was going on

“A suit? So I’m guessing a tux, but if you want something to make you standout- but I think you don’t want that, huh?” She begins to look him up and down, quickly mumbling some numbers to herself. “Black or any dark color would suit you, but having emerald accents-no! Gold accents would suit you better.” Damian remains silent as she circles him, not once placing a hand on him. “Shawl collars, traditional or modern could work. Definitely single breast, maybe tail-oh god no. No tails.” Damian watched as her eyes filled with happiness. “A cumberbund would definitely suit you. That’s where I can place the gold!”

Damian kept listening as the girl kept listing ideas to herself, watching with awe as she kept the ideas coming, eventually snapping out of his trance when she presented him a card.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make that suit. Of course! The decision is yours if you’d allow me to make it.” He watches as the girl points to a phone number and email address in rose gold. “Give me a call, text or email if you decide to accept my offer. See ya!”

Damian is left dumbfounded as he watches her go and pick some fabric rolls, purchase them and then leave.

“What just happened?”

Damian looks at the all black card in his hand. On one side was the phone number and email. On the other, the letters M D C were on the card, a single line going through the three letters. Simple, yet elegant.

Damian ends up accepting the offer, setting to meet the girl that Friday afternoon after his classes.

When his family attempts to tag along, he tells them no, setting on going alone.

“Welcome to my humble home.” She greets him after picking him up (she insisted despite Damian saying he had his own mode of transport) at the rendezvous and then to her flat. He was faced with one of Gotham’s most expensive penthouses, Damian wondering who exactly was this girl who can afford one of his father’s expensive hotels.

“Do you...live by yourself?”

“Yup! Although my uncle- oh! How can I forget?” The girl says, closing the door behind her. “Sorry for the late introduction! My name’s Marinette. The one behind the upcoming brand MDC. I’m currently here for a commission. Although, by the looks of it, I might end up staying here in Gotham.”

He’s heard of her, the decade’s youngest designer in the fashion world, or so he’s heard.

“Now, let’s start with getting your measurements, shall we?”

One visit became two, to then various

And they were mainly never about his suit that she was making him.

He didn’t know why he found him attracted to her place...to her

But simply felt at home with her

He quickly learns everything about her. Her old school life, her friends, her ex, her parents, hobbies, and old commissions. 

At first he thought she graduated early from highschool because of her bully, but it turns out that it was because she already had all her requirements done and seeing that there was no other reason to stay, she left. Also, having more time is what she needed if she wanted to succeed in the fashion world. So when her uncle (who he learns is Jagged Stone) offered her a hand, she took it and came to Gotham.

But Damian didn’t just listen, he also talked about himself

About Titus, his family, his fencing tournament. His opinions on Selina. His mixed feelings about his mother.

His family kept trying to follow him, but they have yet to figure out where he would go every other afternoon and evening.

Months pass, the suit already done and ready to be worn, but it still wasn’t the day of the Gala yet. But even then, Damian still stopped by, often times letting Marinette use him as a mannequin and dress form

Sometimes they would continue to talk about their mundane lives or things from the past that still ate at them, anything for Damian to simply listen to her voice because while he didn’t fully accept it, he knew he had feelings for her.

A scene that happens:

“And the worst part was that Alya knew she was lying. Lila was definitely not there because Alya was there. She was the one who saw Ladybug capture the akuma not Lila. Lila wasn’t anywhere near Paris when it even happened!” Marinette huffed as she tippy toed to make sure she was measuring the correct portion of Damian’s back. 

Damian felt her presence ever so close to him, causing him to panic. Yes, he only allowed her to invade his personal space, but this was too much for his heart. 

The aroma of baked goods always radiated from her and being this close only made Damian want to become obsessed with the smell even more. 

“So even with that in mind, this Alya decided to take the other girl’s stance?” Marinette let out a sigh, walking in front of Damian and throwing the tape measure around his neck, causing him to tense up. 

“Yeah, and I guess that’s what really made me snap to reality when it came to Alya.” Mari frowned at that, tightening the tape closer to each other to get a collar measure. 

Lord, did she have no idea how much restraint Damian had to put himself under for just wanting to kiss her right now, but he knew better than than. 

He took her hands away from the tape, noticing her eyes lacking that shine they usually carry when she’s in the crafting zone. He looked at her hands, covered in calluses and a few sewing mishaps. Even when they were covered in painful memories, Marinette hands were still gentle. “What’s gentle?” 

Damian’s breath hitched, realizing that he said that last part out loud. 

“You are.” Damian said, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. Damian couldn’t help but feel victorious at the sight of Marinette glowing pink. “You’re a gentle and kind person. She doesn’t deserve your kindness if she was willing to quickly push you aside like that.”

Marinette looked straight at Damian before throwing herself into his chest, almost causing him to tip back. “Thank you, Damian.”

A few days were left until the gala, and it just had to be that time when his stupid brothers found out about his meetings with Marinette (and him coning to terms that he absolutely loves her)

“A girl, huh?” Jason would tease while Dick tried to gathering more information about Damian’s “friend”

“She’s simply designing my suit for-”

“The gala. Sure Lil’ D.” Grayson would say before wanting to pry more information from him. 

“Why don’t you invite her to the gala?” Bruce proposes, Damian no thinking about it

“Maybe I will.” He regrets saying

And Marinette ends up saying yes, now panicking about what to wear

“What about that dress?” Damian points to her almost completed black dress.

A high collared black dress with long sleeves was what Damian was referring to. With an open back and skirt that fell to the ground, it’s golden accents by the collar that ran across the chest...it would match his own all black suit with golden accents at the shoulders and cumberbund. 

“That.. that could actually work.”

Time skip to the gala, where when the two arrive, they steal the spotlight because not only did Damian arrive with a date, but she was stunning. Despite being three inches taller than him, Marinette was perfect by his side

“So Damian, what’s her name and how’d you meet this girl?” Jason asked first, but to Dick’s annoyance.

“Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one behind both of our attires.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Bruce manages to say despite being surprised by Damian’s new development.

“So how-” Tim attempted to ask, but marinette cut him off.

“We met at a fabric store. A fabric roll brought us together.”

The night goes on, with it ending by Marinette asking Damian to be her boyfriend. (Damian then also reveals that he was also going to ask her to be his girlfriend)

“Of course.” He says, having to stretch to kiss her, glad to have gone into that fabric store that day.

Sure, it was weird, but Damian was glad to day that a single fabric roll decided their fate of meeting each other.

[boredfanwrites]

OiHina Headcanons #1

Some Brazil/TimeSkip OiHina headcanons that became a little bit of a fic, I'm not sorry:

Oikawa is definitely already operating a what happens in Brazil stays in Brazil mentality before he even runs into Hinata again.

The first time Oikawa sees the tangerine he's playing beach volleyball as Oikawa and the rest of his team take a well earned day off.

Oikawa wouldn't be sure it even was Hinata if not for the way he still managed those freakish jumps on soft sand.

However the first time he speaks to Hinata the two are in a club, both celebrating different things, a few days later.

Hinata spots Oikawa and beams, grabbing a second drink and taking it over to him.

Hinata starts recalling all the things that happened in high school, what he'd learnt and continued to learn, even mentioned a few things about Iwaizumi.

Oikawa smiled, drinking in the praise and the alcohol. And really who gave Hinata the right to look so damn precious.

The first night both are adamant that it's a one night thing, they both have people waiting on them in Japan of course. But they don't lose contact.

Hinata somehow worms his way into the hearts of Oikawa's team and therefore their practices. He claims as much as he loves beach volleyball and how much he's learning from it, he misses the solidity of the court beneath his feet.

Soon enough Hinata starts joining in Oikawa's practice and vice versa, both picking up skills that are beneficial to each of them.

It becomes more at some point, the two start hanging out, showing each other their favourite cafes, shops and parks. Hinata talks about everything and anything, he actually keeps up with everyone back in Japan so Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi is coaching, Kageyama is still playing competitively, Kenma is a very successful gamer.

Oikawa also knows that the Karasuno coach and teacher supervisor got married. Hinata very quickly shut his mouth, covering it and blushing wildly trying to back track. Oikawa laughed and said it didn't bother him, he wouldn't tell, but was also trying to conceal his staring at the flustered boy.

The second time it happened they were both drunk, both sad and both missing their exes. It hadn't been like that first night where the adrenaline and surprise had ruled. This one had be slower, softer, closer. Both of them desperately trying to replace something they hadn't quite lost.

Hinata stays. He sleeps on the sofa, but he stays. He makes Oikawa breakfast in the morning, cup of coffee in hand, saying they needed to talk about this and where it was going.

'I like you, Oikawa. I just need to know whether this is just going to be a thing or not?'

‘I think it could be a thing. A friends with benefits kind of situation, right?’

'Ok, from now until I leave.'

That was another thing. Hinata would be leaving. Oikawa knew he wouldn't stay forever, part of staying in Brazil was to try and find himself outside of his past. He never expected Hinata would stick around. He never expected himself to want Hinata to stick around.

They work out they have around a month and a half before Hinata heads back to Japan and they make the most of it. Sure there's a lot of fooling around, but the pair seem to take the friends part seriously too.

Hinata reveals how scared he'd been of everything in high school. Feeling like the whole team relied on him. Sure he'd built himself up to be like the Little Giant but the pressure that came with it often tried to drown him.

Oikawa admitted the problems he'd had. The reason he'd nearly punched Kageyama in middle school. The stupid knee injury that he still tests the limits of. The panic attacks that still hit him out of nowhere.

By the time Hinata has to return, neither one really want him to leave. Oikawa reminds him it was always supposed to be temporary, Hinata likes to say the friends part will always be permanent.

Neither admit it but they both cry at the airport as Oikawa sends Hinata off with a soft forehead kiss and tight hug.

Time passes, Oikawa is selected for the Argentinian national team. Iwaizumi begs him to come home, but Oikawa isn't finished.

They stop talking for a while, but Hinata fills the space with random anecdotes about his new teammates, about how Kageyama is suffering on the same team as Ushijima. And, when Hinata knows Oikawa is in a good enough mood, updates on Iwaizumi.

There's one day, in a cold November, that Hinata facetimes Oikawa at an unreasonable hour in Japan. Oikawa's just on his way to practice but he accepts the call.

'Why are you awake?'

'I needed to make sure you'd be with people. It's about practice time in Argentina right?'

Oikawa is shocked that Hinata even remembers, and then he realises.

'What do you mean with people?'

'Well, Kags and I made the Japan national team. We also broke up so things haven't been so great.'

'Ok, that's fantastic about making the team though. Can't wait to kick your ass at the olympics.'

Hinata laughs: 'yeah.'

'What?'

'Well, we had our team dinner where we met our coach and his fiancee...it's Iwaizumi-san.'

Oikawa hung up. Tears brimming in his eyes. Hinata was the one to tell him Iwaizumi was engaged. He broke. Didn't show up at practice, claimed mild food poisoning. He just needed a day.

Of course Oikawa didn't really expect Iwa-chan to wait for him forever. They hadn't spoken in a year or so, but he thought Iwaizumi would have told him about his engagement at least.

He shoots off a blunt 'Congratulations' text. Quickly followed by an 'I'll be ok' text to Hinata.

Oikawa really tries to put the engagement out of his mind but the Olympics roll around and of course the first person he bumps into is Iwaizumi.

'I hope you'll be very happy together.'

It's all he says, it's all he allows before running to find his original destination.

Hinata opens the door to a red faced, puffy cheeked Oikawa who's trying his best not to fall apart in the corridor.

They don't talk, Hinata just holds Oikawa close, being the big spoon until he falls asleep. Iwaizumi knocks once, but the cursing out Hinata gives him is enough to scare him away. Hinata may like his coach enough but he liked Oikawa more, he was the priority right now.

Oikawa woke up to Hinata scrolling through his phone, he peeps at the screen seeing pictures of Hinata and Kageyama, obviously taken when they were a couple.

'I was so stupid to think it'd be the same once I came back.'

'We both were. I'm stupider, cause I thought he'd wait forever.'

'Do you still love him?'

'Not like I did, doesn't make it hurt less though. Do you still love Kageyama?'

'I don't think I did before I even arrived back in Japan.'

That was a loaded sentence. Oikawa sat up straight, searching Hinata's face for any kind of sign.

'Once more for old times sake?'

'Does it have to be only once? I'd like to do it a lot, and all the other things that come with it. Like dating, yeah, that, um cuddles too I guess...' Hinata was losing it, Oikawa noted down that he would have to keep making the younger boy flustered.

'I would like that too.'

'Shōyō.'

'Tōru.'

Hinata nodded. They both laugh awkwardly before Oikawa leaves for his actual room, promising to meet him back on the court.

When Japan wins their match Oikawa rushes Hinata, kissing him square on the lips in congratulations. Kageyama frowns as Iwaizumi leads him away from punching Oikawa square in the jaw.

Oikawa moves back to Japan for Hinata. Which says something. He didn't ever think of moving back specifically for Iwaizumi. It's coupled with him retiring from volleyball finally. His knee was really starting to give him trouble a lot more often, much to Hinata's frustration.

Hinata continues playing, and Oikawa finds a job in the fashion industry. As much as he'd liked to have been a model he finds that working as a photoshoot stylist has it's benefits. One of them being seeing a few old friends of his.

The main benefit of course is having time for a relationship. Hinata and he get their own apartment together a year into dating, and it's cosy and homely and everything Oikawa had always wanted. It's warm.

Oikawa did most of the decorating, even though Hinata definitely sneaks a few volleyball posters in. He also snuck in a framed collage of Oikawa's first ever shoot he styled solo. Oikawa announced he loved him that day.

Hinata said I love you first the day that Oikawa announced he was retiring. He'd say he just wanted Oikawa to know, that he didn't expect him to say it back, but Oikawa knew Hinata had been in love with him since Brazil, a part of Oikawa had been in love with Hinata then too.

Oikawa proposes. Much like their first kiss at the Olympics, its four years into their relationship. They'd been speaking about it. Hinata was talking about finally retiring and it was his last competitive match.

His team had won and as their friends and family swarmed the court Oikawa blended in, reaching Hinata and sliding down onto one knee. It was a private moment just for them, the team hiding them from the crowd.

Of course Hinata said yes.

I might do a part two to this of OiHina and their disgustingly domestic married life, haven’t quite decided.

[fangirlandiknowit101]

Here's the sad pining sasuke i wrote last night... it's not finished and who knows when/if i'll finish it. university AU, not edited and there's some naru//hina and sasuke//OC bc i couldn't think of a canon character that fit. The texting part is also weird bc i wrote it all very fast lol. i'm sharing bc why not *shrugs*

xxx

It hurts, to look at them.

Sasuke can’t help himself. Naruto is his best friend, after all, and he’s not yet so desperate that he’ll avoid him. It’s worse, somehow, that he can’t even dislike her.

She’s good for him, he thinks, when he’s feeling particularly self-deprecating. Her hair is dark and her skin pale as porcelain, and that’s where the similarities end between him and Hinata.

Sweet, and so patient with Naruto. Soft-spoken, but not a pushover. Impeccably dressed, always, no make-up needed to outshine any girl beside her. A picture perfect couple, that’s what they are. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to watch it unfold from the front row.

How her shyness turned to surety, how her eyes would catch on Naruto and look away before, but now – now she looks at him like he belongs to her, soft smile on her plump lips.

Sasuke can’t even hate her, and he wishes he could.

It’s not her fault that Sasuke is the way he is. She doesn’t know, isn’t doing it on purpose. And yet, there’s a stab to Sasuke’s chest every time she takes his hand, every time Naruto tucks her silky hair behind her perfect ear.

Naruto will kiss her cheek and Sasuke will be looking, always looking. His face devoid of emotion, his voice carefully neutral. He can’t be mean to Naruto’s girlfriend, though he wishes he could. Maybe if Naruto got mad at him and pushed him away, Sasuke would be free to move on.

It’s more likely that Sasuke would apologize and do better, and he’d rather spare himself the embarrassment.

Sometimes he imagines that Hinata will find out, that she’ll start treating him with suspicion, watch his every move with her wide eyes. Feel threatened by him. But Sasuke is no threat. He’s tired and hurting, but he’s not a homewrecker. It would be a lot easier if Naruto didn’t keep nudging him in Sakura’s direction.

It’s not Sakura’s fault, either. She’s dreaming of something she can’t have, and the similarities make him sick to his stomach.

Sometimes he thinks he’ll date her, live the lie to the fullest. Give her what she wants, since he’s doomed anyway. He doubts he’d last long, though. If he had even the slightest bit of interest in women – but when he looks at her, there’s just no attraction. He’s not sure how no one’s noticed yet. It’s not like he’s that good of an actor. He thinks the only reason no one’s figured it out is because he’s so deep in the closet, and they’re all so heterosexual. Why would they suspect he’s gay? It suits them better if he isn’t.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late already,” Sakura says beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The bar is lively around them, but the music is at a bearable noise level. She’s looking at her phone, frowning. On the other side of the small table, Naruto pouts.

“It’s not late!” he objects, the beer in his glass sloshing around as he waves his hands around. “We just got here!”

“We’ve been here for three hours, I think,” Hinata says, leaning her cheek on his shoulder.

Sasuke wonders how she manages, the way he moves around so much. Perhaps her body is as soft as her voice, easily following him.

“I told you I have to get up early tomorrow.” Sakura sighs, irritated. She fishes her bag up from the floor, putting her phone inside it. “I really have to get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the station,” Sasuke offers. Not because he particularly wants to, but he’s not in the mood to subject himself to third-wheeling Naruto and Hinata. “I should get going, anyway.”

“What?” Naruto looks disappointed, more disappointed than when Sakura announced her departure. “I thought you were free tomorrow.”

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke swallows down the last of his drink.

“Doesn’t mean I want to stay up all night,” he counters with, easing out of the booth. “I still have to study.”

“You study too much,” Naruto mutters, giving Hinata a smile like an afterthought when she squeezes his arm.

“Maybe if you studied at all you wouldn’t need to panic before every exam,” Sakura nags at him, coming around the table to wait next to Sasuke. “Some of us care about our grades.”

“Nerds.” At least Naruto looks a little happier, and Sasuke hates to think that it’s because he thinks anything’s going to happen between him and Sakura. “Don’t get lost, you two!”

They say their goodbyes, and Sasuke tries to pretend he doesn’t notice how Sakura’s cheeks fill with color when they step outside the bar. She’s put a jacket on, but Sasuke’s fine in his sweater. It’s not cold enough that her blush can be blamed on the weather.

“Thanks for walking me,” she says, hefting her bag higher up her shoulder. She’d joined them straight from the library, researching her latest paper. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” he tells her, hands tucked into his sleeves.

He doesn’t want to run the risk of her attempting to reach for his hand. As much as he dislikes her attention, it’s safer if she thinks he’s just playing hard to get. He won’t have to explain, then, why he hasn’t outright told her to give up. He should, he knows. But Naruto would just nudge him towards some other girl, would bother him about it until Sasuke started going on actual dates. It’s touching, how worried he is over Sasuke potentially being lonely.

Too bad Naruto himself is the cause of it.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow, then?” Sakura asks, stepping aside as they meet a group of half-drunk businessmen. “I’m working until five…”

It would be so easy to invite her out. To suggest a movie, or trying out that new café near campus. To watch her eyes light up with hope, watch her mouth stretch into an excited smile.

“I really do need to study,” he says. “And I’m almost out of clean clothes.”

None of it is a lie, technically. He’s just not sure he’ll actually do either of those things tomorrow.

“Oh.”

She tries to hide her disappointment, and Sasuke is an expert by now at pretending he doesn’t notice. They walk the rest of the way in silence, waving a quick goodbye at the ticket gates as Sakura’s train is due to arrive in just two minutes. Sasuke buys a drink from a vending machine and takes small sips as he waits for his own, mindlessly scrolling through social media. He almost ignores the text Naruto sends.

> Wanna hang out tomorrow?

He contemplates it. On the one hand, yes, of course he wants to. On the other, having an entire day to himself has its appeal.

> I’ll be busy

> Ooh, with sakura?

The train arrives, and Sasuke snags a seat next to a couple too caught up with each other to pay attention to him.

> No

> Got studying and laundry to do

The reply is instant.

> That’s too boring!!! I’m coming over for lunch

> Whatever

He pockets his phone, and stares down at the bottle in his hands for the rest of the trip. It doesn’t help against the warmth rising in his chest. At least he doesn’t do this to Sakura – doesn’t invite himself into her space, ignorant of her feelings. It doesn’t make him feel better.

xxx

Sasuke doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s got Naruto, and then there’s his small group of friends from high school. Naruto is the only one who still lives nearby. Rather, Sasuke had ended up staying in Konoha like him. It’s a big enough city that most of his classmates are strangers, although slightly less so in their second year. He stayed with his parents for his first year, but when one of his cousins moved abroad for work he took the opportunity to stay at her apartment instead. It’s closer to his university, and if he, potentially, wanted to bring a guy home then no one would know.

He doesn’t think his parents would mind, but there wouldn’t be any privacy. He relishes in it, and Naruto does, too.

“I should just move in with you,” Naruto groans, spread out on his couch. “You wouldn’t believe how annoying my mom was this morning.”

“I think I can believe it,” Sasuke tells him, cleaning up after their lunch. “And just to be clear, I’ve never said you’d be welcome to live here.”

“Stingy,” Naruto grumbles. “How long is your cousin gone, anyway?”

Shrugging, Sasuke dries off the counter just for something to do with his hands.

“A year at least. We’ll see. So it’s not like I’ll be living here forever.”

“But still!”

“Where would you even sleep?”

Naruto happily pats the couch. When Sasuke scowls at him, he simply grins.

“Come on,” Naruto says. “I want to watch a movie.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I need to study.”

Still, he gives in too easily. Naruto lifts his legs to give him room, dumping them all over Sasuke’s lap once he sits down. It’s things like this that makes Sasuke’s heart refuse to give up. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, cheekbone pressed to his closed fist. He doesn’t say anything when Naruto picks a drama at random, letting him comment on the plot as much as he wants. Watching movies with Naruto is certainly never quiet, and he winces as Naruto kicks his legs as he shouts his anger at the main character.

When the movie ends, Naruto doesn’t start a new one. Instead he chews on his bottom lip, playing with the remote. Sasuke considers getting up to use the toilet, maybe suggesting going to the corner store for snacks, but then Naruto clears his throat suspiciously.

“What?” he asks, irritated when Naruto takes his time.

“So, how are things going with Sakura?”

He resists the urge to pinch his nose. He still lets out a heavy breath, not quite a sigh but close enough that Naruto frowns.

“I mean,” Naruto continues, “you could just ask her out. She’s definitely going to say yes.”

Sasuke shifts, uncomfortable. Naruto’s legs are still on top of his. His socks have little frogs on them.

“I’ve told you I’m not really into the idea of a relationship right now.”

“Uh-huh.” Naruto rolls his eyes, pushing himself up and finally removing his legs, crossing them at the ankles instead. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“Just drop it, Naruto.”

“But if you get together things will be so much easier,” Naruto insists, poking at his arm. “We can go on double dates, and stuff.”

Sending him a glare, Sasuke pulls a leg up to his chest. It won’t prevent Naruto if he decides to get comfy on his lap again, but it might make him think twice at least. Naruto’s only wearing shorts, and all that naked skin isn’t good for his heart. It’s definitely too cold for it, but Naruto’s never been one to care about the weather.

“We already go places together.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same!”

Sasuke pinches his lips, looking away. If he’s not careful, those large blue eyes will convince him to cave in, and then he’ll find himself with a girlfriend. He does a lot for Naruto, but there are limits.

“I’m not going to ask her out,” he mutters, knowing it will only lead to more questioning.

Sure enough, Naruto makes a noise of protest.

“But you haven’t rejected her either!”

“She hasn’t asked me out either.”

“It’s obvious she likes you.”

“That’s her problem.”

Naruto kicks at his thigh, using his heel. He looks properly annoyed now, as if Sasuke is a petulant child, refusing to do what’s best for him.

“If you got over yourself for a minute, you’d realize what a catch she is!”

He doesn’t reply. Let Naruto think he’s just stubborn, or an asshole, or whatever. Let him think Sasuke’s just stringing her along, keeping her attention while refusing to commit. It’s better than the alternative.

“Leave it, Naruto,” he warns, getting up and moving to the kitchen. “We’re not talking about this.”

At least Naruto doesn’t follow him, though it doesn’t make much of a difference. The apartment is small, no wall separating the kitchen from the living room. He searches through his cabinets, locating a forgotten bag of wasabi peas. He throws them at Naruto’s head.

“Eat these and shut up,” he says.

To his relief, Naruto does as told.

xxx

He picks up the call from Karin half-distracted, mind still stuck on a question for tomorrow’s seminar. As usual, she doesn’t wait for him to say hi, making her wince with the volume of her voice.

“Do you have any idea how tiring it is to listen to Naruto whine about you?” she starts with, the background noise suggesting she’s outdoors. “Can’t you just tell him you’re gay and put me out of my misery.”

“No thanks.” He drops his pen on his desk, rubbing at his eyes. He regrets not going to the university library, at least then he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the call. “Was that all? I’m kind of busy.”

“You know, this is exactly why I moved away,” she continues, ignoring him. “I thought I could get away from all the high school-level drama. Just get yourself a boyfriend, and go on those stupid double dates my cousin is so desperately yearning for. How hard can it be?!”

He can feel a headache incoming, and he rubs his fingertips between his brows. Naruto had sulked for hours the day before, until Sasuke got sick of it and threw him out. It was definitely backhanded of him to call Karin and complain.

“If you really wanted to be left out of it, why are you calling me? That’s the opposite of not getting involved.”

“Because it’s really painful and I’m morally obligated as the only person with functional brain cells to tell you to move on. Juugo’s too nice to say it and Suigetsu would give you terrible advice and sit back and watch. I’m being nicer to you than you deserve.”

“By telling me to move on,” Sasuke deadpans, wondering why his parents couldn’t have settled down somewhere else.

“Well, someone has to do it! Clearly I’m the gay cousin in the family, so you’re screwed. Might as well get over it and get laid.”

“I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

She huffs at him, traffic and broken conversations filtering through the phone. There’s the jingle of a shop’s door, and the noise cuts off.

“Your pining is just getting sad,” she eventually replies, distractedly. “Trust me, I know my cousin. He’s not worth it.”

Something unpleasant churns in Sasuke’s stomach. He wants to argue with her that he is worth it, but he doesn’t want to land himself in an hour-long lecture if he can help it. He rolls his neck, making a face. She’s got a point, but he doesn’t enjoy hearing it. His life would be a lot simpler if he could find someone who made him forget about Naruto. He’s just not sure it’s fair to expect someone to instantly replace a lifetime of friendship.

“I don’t think I should have to come out just because Naruto irritates you,” is what he says instead, leaning back in his chair. “What if my parents find out and disown me? You want to be responsible for that?”

“Sasuke,” she sighs, “your brother is literally gay and your parents love his boyfriend.”

“So?”

“Stop. Making. Excuses.”

He bites his cheek, holding back a denial. He’s not worried about his parents, he’s worried about Naruto’s reaction. That things will change between them. That he’ll think Sasuke has feelings for him, which would be correct but would also ruin absolutely everything.

“I’ll… consider it,” he concedes, after a long silence, during which Karin has finished buying whatever it was she needed.

“Really? Because I’m going to hold you to that.”

He sighs.

“Next time I’m not picking up when you call me.”

xxx

A few weeks pass, and not much changes. Naruto still takes up too much space in his head and life, Sakura continues to drop hints but refuses to make the first move, and Hinata is still as lovely as ever. She doesn’t seem to have much of a personality other than being Naruto’s girlfriend, but to be fair Sasuke hasn’t precisely paid attention or tried to get to know her. Naruto’s birthday is drawing closer, and he can’t bring himself to do anything to break the status quo before then.

He’s been considering it, though. It would be a relief to stop pretending. He can’t imagine himself finding a boyfriend, though, because where would he even meet someone? It’s too awkward to use a dating app, and he’s not precisely social. He doesn’t have any experience, either, if you don’t count those childish games they played sometimes when they were younger. And that one time Naruto kissed him by accident when they were twelve.

Because of this, he’s really not expecting it when one day in class, just as the lecture ends, his eyes fall on the messenger bag that the guy next to him has just finished packing. There’s a rainbow pin on it, and Sasuke blurts out his question before he can stop to think about it.

“Are you gay?”

He only lifts his eyes from the pin when the surprised silence stretches out a bit too long. Their eyes meet, and the other boy is staring at him like he’s not sure how to react.

“Uh,” he says eventually, fingers clenching around the bag’s strap. “I mean, yes? But if you’re thinking about the pin it’s just a regular rainbow…”

He trails off, and Sasuke feels his cheeks heat up a bit. He can’t believe he just asked, when he himself has gone to such lengths to make sure no one made such assumptions about him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

Maybe he should know the guy’s name, but he doesn’t. He’s pretty short, hair dyed a light brown and glasses perched on his nose. Cute, but Sasuke’s not sure he’s his type. He’s not sure he has a type, other than Naruto.

“Are you gay?” the guy asks him, eyebrows rising above the frame of his glasses.

Sasuke licks his lips. He could say no, but to what end?

“I am,” he forces out, breathing in a deep breath.

“Oh.” There’s red color blooming on the other boy’s face, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment. “I was kind of hoping, but, um… I mean, hoping sounds weird! Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask outright.”

When Sasuke stands up, he realizes he’s almost a head taller than him.

“I’m Sasuke,” he offers, clicking his laptop shut and slowly sliding it into his bag.

“I know. I mean! I’m Hiroshi. Nice to meet you.”

Sasuke nods, and awkwardly turns to leave. Hiroshi stops him with a hand to his arm, though, and Sasuke swallows nervously as the turns back. He’s not interested in Hiroshi, not really, but he’s never been asked out by a boy before and the novelty of the situation is getting to him.

“Do you, um, are you busy right now? We could have lunch?”

He weighs the pros and cons in his mind. As nervous as Hiroshi looks, there’s a determined glint in his eyes that sways Sasuke over.

“Okay,” he says, and just like that he’s doing what Karin told him to do.

He’s trying, at least.

xxx

Over the course of a week, including having coffee together and a visit to the aquarium, Sasuke learns a lot about Hiroshi. Or Hiro, as he likes his friends to call him. They don’t have too much in common, but they’re both gay and studying agricultural economics. Once Hiro gets over his initial shyness, Sasuke finds he’s got a great sense of humor and won’t hesitate to poke fun at him.

It’s a breath of relief, to spend time with someone who doesn’t know him from before. He didn’t realize how much he needed it – just being able to be himself, without constantly keeping himself in check.

He can’t fool himself to think it’s enough to replace Naruto, but maybe he doesn’t need to replace him. Maybe it’s enough that Hiro seems to like him. He doesn’t really think about it, when he invites Hiro over on a Saturday night, after they’d had dinner at a nice udon place.

“Oh, wow,” Hiro says as he steps into Sasuke’s apartment, making an impressed face. “Nice place.”

“It’s my cousin’s, so no need to sound so impressed.”

Hiro rolls his eyes, taking off his shoes and jacket and following Sasuke inside.

“Alright, I’ll try to keep it in,” he teases, sitting on the couch when Sasuke motions him towards it. “But it must be nice, to have your own place like this. The dorms are fine, but I can’t exactly bring guys there.”

Humming his agreement, Sasuke grabs two cans of soda from the fridge, handing one of them to Hiro when he sinks down on the couch next to him.

“Want to watch something?”

Hiro nods, and Sasuke brings the TV to life. He’s not expecting anything to happen – they’ve only known each other a week. He’s still coming to terms with having a friend other than Karin he can talk to like this, and she doesn’t really count since there was never the potential for anything to happen between them. Hiro is… potentially someone Sasuke could date. At least there’s nothing wrong with him, not yet, and Sasuke’s easing himself into the idea of getting to know him better.

He finds a movie at random, some sci-fi that doesn’t look terrible. The movie turns into background noise as they talk, Hiro’s eyes watching his face more than the screen. It’s nice, in a new, exhilarating way, to have a guy’s attention on him like this. He’s not sure what to do with it. When Hiro moves closer, knee touching Sasuke’s thigh, hand resting on the back of the couch and occasionally touching his neck, Sasuke can’t find it in him to move away.

It feels like a secret, shared between the two of them. He thinks of Naruto for a long moment, allows himself the pain lacing through his chest as he imagines light brown hair replaced with blond, dark eyes replaced with blue. Then, he pushes it away, tells himself he can have this. The emotions are only his own.

It’s all happening too fast when Hiro grows bold, leaning in to press their mouths together, but he doesn’t care. It’s no one’s business if he spends the evening on his couch with a boy in his lap, a boy who isn’t his best friend.

The pain is easier to swallow if he tells himself that he’s the only one hurt.

[thecaptainhelm]

Shut Your Mouth Pt.2

hahaha, daminette part two, wasn’t a one shot, gn gn gn.

Marinette sighed as the shower warmed up, rolling her neck and relishing in the light feeling of accomplishment. Ever since Hawkmoth had been defeated, a mere two days ago, things had been tense. Hawkmoth, now known as Gabriel Agreste, was arrested along with his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur who had since retired as Mayura the year before. It was a stroke of luck to discover that the Guardian had the ability to forcibly renounce a broken Miraculous. Something Gabriel hadn’t known, granting them extra time as he futilely tried to ‘fix’ the brooch. While that happened, she managed to finally convince Chat to at least keep him as a suspect if not out of suspicion, then to actually strike him from their list. It didn’t take long rack up evidence against him, especially after learning from the Bats of Gotham. 

The battle was quiet, in the early hours of the morning, where the city forcibly cut the power to the Agreste mansion, and it only took one Venom for each while they slept defenselessly. It took only a few minutes to find evidence that he was at least working with Hawkmoth, and when they found the miraculous pin and brooch, it was confirmed that he was, indeed, Hawkmoth with Nathalie working as his henchwoman Mayura.

Soon, with what was probably the fastest trial of the century, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur were declared guilty and sentenced to serve life in prison and an insane asylum respectively. It had only shocked her for a moment that Mayura pleaded guilty and asked to be sent directly to rehab for mental help, by reason of insanity wrought by grief. What did surprise her was that she was the one to take the miraculous and give them to the Agreste couple as an anniversary gift, ultimately setting off a chain of unforeseen consequences.

That was a whole other cake she didn’t want to bake just yet, so she decided to finally just take a moment to breathe for what felt like the first time in five years. 

So it was only normal that her smartwatch chimed on the hook of the shower caddy, a picture of a frowny eagle glaring right at her. She cursed her luck, yeah, no breaks was still her usual routine. It must be real hard for the universe to break out that particular habit.

Then she remembered that she set this particular picture and ringtone for the one person who had never called.

Robin, the vigilante that she might have, kind of, definitely made an enemy of.

Who was also her crush, so that was just. Great.

In her defense, she was a human being, and human beings were capable of amazing feats. It was just that her amazing feats were more amazing bouts of stupidity. Seriously, why did she do it? Just where did her common sense escape to make her think that was even a remotely good idea, because she wanted to go there and never come back.

She had kissed-- no! She made out with Robin, the most notoriously ill-tempered member of Batman’s team. The only reason he didn’t deck her in the face was because, because, well she didn’t know! Was it mercy, a misplaced feeling of pity, perhaps?

No, actually, it was more likely that he was frozen stiff with rage. Marinette couldn’t blame him, heck, she’d be angry too, suddenly getting passionately smooched in the middle of livid rant. 

She had planned on giving him her contact information for the longest time, since they'd come to the understanding that they only wanted to do what was best for everyone, the kind of understanding that only leaders could have. And to maybe get closer to him as much as professionalism allowed. So, it stood to reason that she had to go ahead and ruin that, too. She really couldn’t believe herself sometimes, who randomly kisses someone, hands them their number, and then trots off back to work? Marinette Dupain-Cheng apparently.

In fact, it was about time he called. She had pretty much an entire year to prepare herself for what was sure to be a concise and frigid rejection, maybe even a “Stay for away from, lest I stab everyone in this room and then jump out of a window out of utter disgust”? She might as well get it over with and then move on to be alone for the rest of her life.

She wiped the water out of her eyes and squinted at the text message, before jumping out the shower with a loud curse. She hurriedly dried off and put on her clothes, before heading to the Miracle Box, rereading his message.

Emergency evac, one person, requesting Pegasus’ portal twenty kilometers horizontally above sea level precisely fifteen minutes after this message. Coordinates attached.

The message was sent ten minutes ago. How long was she catastrophizing for?!

Max was partying along with the rest of Paris while she took a breather in her art studio. Even with the full fifteen minutes she wouldn’t be able to find him in time. Shit, would she even be able to transform in time?

She grabbed the glasses from the box and Kaalki appeared in a proud flash. 

“No time, there’s trouble,” she panted. “Ready?”

“Hmph, of course,” Kaalki tossed her head. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“Kaalki, transform me!” She eyed the time, two minutes left. She memorized the coordinates as she searched for a suitable place for him to land, and realized she was going to have to catch him in her storage closet.

One minute left. She opened the door and cleared space in the center of the room.

Thirty-five seconds. She stood on an old chair that she moved into the center of the room.

Twenty seconds, and she called, “Voyage!” and threw the portal up towards the ceiling.

Zero. She braced for impact and caught a body that plummeted through in a free fall.

“Ow,” she closed the portal with a groan, amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be a pretty sturdy chair.

“Don’t complain, it could have been worse.” A deep voice rasped.

Wow, to think she missed him, that asshole.

“Shut up, Robi-- oh my god your arm! Get up, getupgetupgetup!” She hauled him up as gently as possible, annoyance giving way to concern.

Robin was, putting it lightly, a mess. He had lost his mask, his eye was swollen shut and his face was bruised with cuts all over, and he was sticky with blood practically everywhere she looked. It was his arm that she was most concerned about, however. It was set in a splint, but he must have been in a rush because it was set wrong, his thumb facing perpendicular lyaway from his body.

“I am fine,” he sagged into her, weary. “I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“If you weren’t so grievously injured, I’d throw you out for that,” she remarked. “But guess what? It’s your lucky night monsieur, and I’m a trained field medic.” Robin looked at her, maskless, and she had to dart her eyes away from his maskless face.

“Oh, so Ladybug finally started replacing her subpar lineup? About time, either she benched them or Hawkmoth would kill them at some point. They were woefully incompent.” Yep, this was definitely Robin, no doubt about it with that attitude.

She called off the transformation and was somewhat pleased when he reflexively jerked his head away. She pulled him into a princess carry and made her way back to the bathroom, inwardly delighting at his reaction. She would never let him live this down.

“It’s me, Robin. Ladybug. Pegasus couldn’t make it, so you’ll have to do with me instead of a random stand-in.” She raised her brow, not that he could see it.

“Unless that bothers you, Boy Wonder?”

“...I’m not,” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“I’m not Robin anymore.”

What. What.

“What?”

“I’ve retired, effective as of nine months ago today, Robin’s cape has been hung up for the next generation.”

Relief didn’t come yet. “Oh, so you’ve taken on a new mantle? Or are you finally the next Batman, though it would take some time to fill those shoulders. Literally, I mean that literally, um.” She observed his downcast expression and once again started walking to the bathroom. When had she stopped?

“I’m not taking over anything,” he said sullenly. “I can’t. Not after what I did.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been so bad,” she opened the door with her heel as she backed them towards the stool by the sink. She set him down carefully, taking full stock of his injuries.

“It was. Batman’s cowl has always represented a strict moral code, one that I’ve always...struggled to adhere to.”

Marinette bit her lip as she kneeled in front of him. He didn’t say anymore, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She sighed and brought out her med kit from the towel cabinet. She was always like this with him.

With Robin (now not Robin?) she had always drawn a blank. She could read his emotions somewhat well, had a good grasp on his moods, and could have genuinely insightful conversations with him. It was only at crucial moments like this that she struggled. Even with Adrien she had always known what she wanted to say, but Robin was different. Everything about him screamed “one chance only” and that caused her mind to go blank. It was so unbelievably frustrating that she could scream.

Marinette handed the glasses to Kaalki and nodded towards her purse hanging on the door handle. The kwami zoomed towards it and soon disappeared into it with the miraculous.

“Robin,” she called gently. He didn’t move. “I’ll have to cut your shirt off, okay? I need to see where the blood is coming from.”

“It’s not mine.The blood.” He kept his gaze away as she froze.

“Well, we’ll have to reset that arm,” she tried again. “It’s not...it’s not looking good, to say the least.”

He looked towards his mangled right arm and nodded. 

It took some time to undo the splint and she tried not to think about where he had been for him to only have rotted wood and prison rags on hand. She cut his shirt off at the sleeve and down his middle, pulling it off and exposing a painful canvas of mottled bruises, scrapes, and cuts. She handed him her towel and he stuffed it in his mouth without a word. She gently untied the splint.

“Are you ready?” She gazed at him resolutely. He nodded and braced himself as best he could.

“On my count, one, two--” She re-broke his arm a count early on purpose.

“Arrghh! Ffuk!!” He jerked out of her grip.

“Hold still!” He spat out the towel and glared in response.

“Mizq dhiraei allaeaynat 'aw aidbitha!!!” She only understood ‘rip’ and ‘arm’ but she got the gist of his screaming.

“Alright it’s done now, I’m setting it, so stop moving,” She couldn’t help but sigh under his vicious scowl.

“Tsk. Be grateful that I can barely discern your features Ladybug. You’re on my shit list and I don’t feel like kicking your ass today.”

“Wow, thanks for saving me Ladybug, I could have died if it weren’t for you!” Marinette couldn’t help but snark at him.

“...tsk!” Yep, that was as good as she was going to get in his condition.

After years of fighting akuma victims she was able to observe the complex and hidden emotions of her opponents and the civilians that she rescued. And right now, her experience was telling her that Robin had more than his pride ruined. His self-confident, courageous, and taciturn nature seemed to be regressing as he fell back into what was probably a self-defense mechanism. For him to be like this instead of exhausted in his current state told her that he must have been through a lot since she last saw him.

She started to gently clean the blood off and noted the bruises underneath definitely came from an intense melee battle. Most of them were in places that made her cringe just looking at them. At least he doesn’t have any other broken bones, or stab wounds. Lucky him.

Robin put an ice pack to his face in the meanwhile and wouldn’t look in her direction.

It was quiet for a while. “So, what should I call you, then?” And she had to open her big fat mouth, didn’t she? Now it was awkward. It was awkward, and he hated her, and she was never speaking again, ever.

“Damian.” Uh oh.That didn’t sound like a moniker.

“Um, nice code name?” She started disinfecting his cuts and scrapes, trying not to panic.

“I no longer require such aliases.” Ok, process that later, heal Robin now. Process. Later.

“Ro--, Damian, uh, well,” She sighed.  “My offer still stands, you know?”

He made a quiet noise. 

“Last time I saw you, I mean. I had left in a rush,”-- after kissing you senseless-- “but I’m always here to listen if you want to talk about what happened.”

Robin, or Damian now, she still wasn’t used to that, froze. His brows furrowed and he strangely went red in the face, before sighing, slumping against the sink.

“I...the blood’s not mine. It hasn’t been my for a long time, but it might as well be for how long I’ve carried it. I’m not a good person so much as to blame myself completely, but I do recognize some of the fault as mine. I’d gotten help, and I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough. I started falling back into old habits and I hated it. I tried and I failed, and I kept trying and failing for months and I…” He gained a look of despair, the first real emotion she’s seen on him since he dropped in.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I just kept disappointing everyone and I hated it so much,” he dug his fingers into his matted hair.

“So, I left. I decided to go on a journey to try and repent, and it was working, at least I thought it did. But, then I had stumbled upon a Shadows base and I…” He peered unseeing at the floor.

“It was like I lost all sense of reason. I lay siege to the entire facility and found my way to the next base. It all turned into an endless cycle, all the way until I reached headquarters and inadvertently met up with high ranking members of the Justice League, teaming up to diminish their power. We were successful, but a candidate for the position of the Demon’s Head activated the self-destruct module. Everyone was scrambling to get out and suddenly my mind felt clearer than it had ever been.” He took  a deep breath and Marinette moved closer to offer some comfort. He leaned towards her gratefully.

“The Justice League had already had an escape route, but the Shadows were in disarray for some reason. After I was sure my old comrades were out, I locked all the doors, and dived down to a ceremonial bathing chamber.”

“And that’s where I came in,” she whispered. I think I’m starting to like him more than I should. What is wrong with me?! Who made me this way?! She had some complaints in regards to that.

“You saved my life,” he inclined his head in an informal bow. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

“...Marinette.” She croaked suddenly. She was left reeling from his info dump and her intense, romantic feelings. So, why not go for a confession? 

Damian whipped his head up in disbelief.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Enchanté, Damian.” She smiled at his bewildered state, wiping away a bit of blood under his chin. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn’t get the chance.

Damian leapt up, furious. “You fool! I knew you were a space cadet, but I didn’t think your brain drifted beyond the stars! How utterly moronic!”

“Wait, why are you so mad?!” She panicked. She kind of had a spur of the moment idea to kiss him on his split lip, but that was looking less and less likely to happen.

(Damn it.)

“You told me your name!” he shouted.

“Yes, and you told me your’s?” She retorted. 

“Have you forgotten Hawkmoth?! Your enemy that can read the minds of the emotionally disturbed should he decide to possess them!” He started to hobble out of the bathroom, still half-treated and mostly in pain.

Oh. 

Oh!

“I have to leave, now! If I can stay calm long enough to reach the trains then I’ll be moving too fast for a butterfly to suddenly get me.”

“Uh, Damian?”

“No, it might already be enroute to someone else and might even already be on board,” He winced and stumbled on the tassel rug in the hallway.

“Woah, hang on a second Damian,” she grabbed him before he could fall, but he pulled out of her grip.

“We don’t have time for this, I can guarantee that I would be one of the worst akumas you’ve faced in your hero career, nevermind the insider information I hold within my mind.”

“Yes, but listen to me,” Damian moved towards the small sitting area, not listening to her. 

Again.

“This safehouse should be around one hundred kilometers from the city limits, you’re safe for now, but Hawkmoth’s estimated rate of growth was--”

That’s it!

Marinette grabbed his jaw and slammed it closed. She had had enough.

“This isn’t a safehouse, we’re in my art studio,” she snapped. She could see the rage begin to build to new heights in his eye.

“No, shut your mouth, and listen!” A vein in his forehead started to pulse, but he didn't move to speak.

Good.

“Hawkmoth has been defeated as of last week, and the trial was concluded a couple days ago. Going by what you told me, you've been out the loop for almost a year, so you don’t know that my team and I had closed in on Hawkmoth’s trail some time ago and were able to build a solid case that’ll go through in a court of law,” She carefully let him go.

“So, you’re safe, I’m safe, and Paris is safe too.” She’d already started to calm down in the middle of her explanation, and idly noted that she should probably take an anger management class.

And sign up for therapy. Lots of it, preferably.

Damian nodded slowly as he rubbed his jaw and she couldn’t help her wince.

“Sorry, did I handle you too roughly? Come here,” she started to pull him back towards the bathroom. He resisted.

“No, it’s fine, no damage just from that much force,” he tugged his arm away but she quickly moved behind him and began to push him through the bathroom door.

“Well, I’m not done treating you, so get back in there.” He grabbed the door frame and pushed back, and her calm demeanor left as quick as it came. Was it even truly there to begin with?

“I said,” she picked him up and threw him back on the stool where he grasped for stability.

“Come here.” She leaned in close to his bruised face, and wow, the one eye that she could see was so very, very green. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

“...okay,” he whispered. He kept his head down.

It didn’t take long to finish disinfecting the rest of his wounds, and soon she started applying ointment to the worst of his bruises. She had enough, but she was definitely going to be restocking in order to play his nursemaid for the next week or so. She rose to her feet and started packing away her kit.

“I’ll give you some pain meds for the night, I’ll leave you to take care of the injuries under the rest of your clothes. Come find me in the kitchenette. I’ll make something for us, though it won’t be anything fancy.”

“That is fine.” Marinette frowned at the strange husk in his voice. Did someone try to suffocate him? Why hadn’t she noticed until now?

She kneeled beside him and reached around him for the water bottle she had left in there earlier, but noticed him twitch and start to blush. Did he get a fever too?

She observed his red face and clear, but dilated eyes. Merde, did she embarrass him from earlier? She knew he had a large ego, but it was his own fault for being stubborn.

“Here, get yourself some water from the sink,” she handed the glittery black bottle to him and hurriedly strode out of the bathroom, calling,

“Holler if you need me!” 

Completely aware of the flustered state she left Damian in. Though not for the reason she thinks, at least.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 21 - Losing My Religion

Masterlist; Chapter 20

Summary: After Tallinn, you use the opportunity and visit Neil’s apartment. What you find there, only increases the confusion, just as the pieces are set for the endgame.

Warnings: Swearing; angst.

Author’s Notes: This was a challenge, and it’s a little different too, a breather before the real fun begins... or something. After this we move onto the icebreaker... (and things). I’ll shut up now, hope you’ll enjoy and all kind of feedback are greatly welcomed! 

The clean up after TP’s little accident on the highway was difficult. And tiring. By the time you have dealt with the mess and could call it a day, you wanted nothing but to sleep. And also disappear from the face of the Earth. That second thing was rather tricky to achieve. Unfortunately. You had to settle for the slightly awkward space given by the rest of the team and the fact that you were bound to return to London the next day. That was something. Even if it meant having to debate whether those damned keys were to be used.

The journey back was uneventful. Only Wheeler seemed capable of talking to you without looking as though she has been trapped in some metaphorical web of ineptitude that the others got caught in. That was alright. At least she knew how that conversation in the container went. Her company was good enough to keep you from going insane for the time being.

The moment the car arrived at the London quarters, you practically bolted out through the door. Eager to finally have your own space to reflect, cry, and try to move on after the unimaginable. But it was not exactly meant to be given…

“Y/N, wait!” Ives’ voice rung out through the reception hall as you skidded down the corridor.

Crap.

“Yeah?” cautiously, you stopped in your tracks, facing the squad leader.

Making the mistake of glancing at the reception desk, you met Anna’s watchful gaze. Of course. Even though you knew she had no clue about anything that transpired between you and Neil, it still felt like a painful reminder.

“I…uh...” the hesitation in Ives’ voice made you frown, “I just got this, and I’m not sure…” he passed you his phone with a strange expression on his face.

A text from TP. Just like the ones you received before. Right… This one had a familiarly succinct form: “Invert for eight days with the army from tomorrow. Then get to Trondheim, awaiting further instructions”

“Is this from him?” you looked up to see the blue eyes boring into yours with confusion.

“Yeah, it must be” you nodded and handed him back the phone.

At that exact moment, you got a text as well. Hurriedly you took out the device and read the message:

“Invert along with Ives and the rest”.

Short and simple. Yet not at all. Without a word, you showed your companion the text message and stifled a heavy sigh. Inversion. Eight days. Trondheim. That most likely confirmed your worst fears. The end of it all was near, and you were needed there. You, Neil, and everyone else still had their parts to play in the most important of showdowns.

“So, I guess we’re going back” you could feel Ives’ inquisitive stare on you “Just like they are” he added, awaiting a response.

Meeting Neil after those eight upcoming days sounded like a nightmare. Because a week was never enough to fall out of love. Or to even attempt it. You were a lost cause.

“…yep” nodding halfheartedly, you could feel another weight settle on your shoulders.

“Excited?” the intensity of Ives’ look convinced you towards his intentions.

Evidently, he tried to get a clue towards your state, probably assessing whether you could endanger the mission in any way. Despite everything, you were a professional. A Tenet agent. That had to come before any personal issues you might have had. Forcing a smile, you met his gaze with sincerity.

“Not really” a shrug completed the response.

But it was enough as he grinned back and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s alright. Have today off and be ready tomorrow morning,” he ordered with a feigned sternness.

“Aye aye, sir” you saluted, enjoying the laugh it prompted.

Maybe not everything was utterly shit.

“Your edge is still intact, I see,” he commented once the laughter died down.

“At least something is then” you grimaced slightly and walked off with a wave.

A day off. What could one possibly do with something like that after everything? The set of keys in your pocket felt heavy for something that small. And insignificant (in theory).

*** It took you one hour of staring at the wall, a thirty-minute-long shower, and two coffees to decide to make use of the keys. After all, what was the harm? It was a way of spending the idle hours. And maybe to understand him a little better. Even if it was too late to save anything. You wanted to know him. To know his mind and heart. You dug out the note with the address Ives gave you and typed it into the maps app. Your hands were shaking the whole journey. Even though it was not far, it turned out to be challenging. Often you were catching yourself glancing at the phone, expecting him to call or text as he always did.  But then you remembered, making the nerves come to the surface again. You wondered whether it was because of the absolute wreckage your relationship became or because you were unable to contact him in any way. Walking the streets leading to Neil’s apartment, you realised that it was probably both. You missed him. Simple as that. And equally complicated at the same time.

Google maps led you to an old docking space transformed into posh loft spaces in two store buildings of dark red brick. The residential area was completed with a large parking lot (full of rather good cars), making the first question of the day pop into your head: Did Neil have a private car? Something that unimportant yet entirely mundane only made you realise how little you knew of his life. But this was exactly why you came here. The second thought was something you always knew yet never took time to ponder on: the fact that he undeniably had money. It did not matter, of course. Just another fact that could as a trigger for the intrusive ideas to appear.

Ignoring the spiraling thoughts, you made your way to the indicated building, keying in the code at the door and following the stairs to the second floor. The apartment door no 4 looked like any other you have passed on the way. Turning the key in the lock, you took a deep breath, gathering courage for god knows what. Perhaps just being alone with everything that had to do with Neil… The door opened soundlessly. Faint daylight from the corridor fell onto the furniture and objects gathered in the hall, helping your eyes adjust to the darkness. You closed the door and locked it. The least you could have wanted was for someone to break in on your watch. Now that would have made him hate you. If he didn’t already, that is. Taking off the shoes, you scanned the hall. Hooks with various jackets and coats on the wall. Including a slightly weathered leather one that perked your interest. With fingers ghosting the material, you were unable to block the images of Neil wearing it. That was enough to make you blush and curse out loud. That won’t help with getting over him. As though that was even possible.

Next, your eyes landed on the shoes rack in the corner showing off Neil’s questionable taste in footwear. You grimaced when spotting another pair of brogues (that would have to go… if there was any future for you) and then smiled involuntarily at something as casual as old converse on the top shelf of the rack. So, he could dress more… normally. Interesting.

The rest of the space was filled with a large mirror and a cupboard full of random objects such as spare lightbulbs, shoe care products, and cleaning supplies. On top of that cupboard, there was a succulent (practical, you had to admit), a desk calendar, and a small notepad filled with Neil’s writing. The contents ranged from shopping lists to quantum physics, making you grin fondly when looking through the pages. The latest entry was written down in haste and barely eligible. What you deciphered made your heart stumble for the first time that day. It seemed like Neil was planning to invite you over after Tallinn, prepare dinner, and apparently do all that ‘he wanted to for a while’. Brilliant. The notepad fell from your hands as the implications dawned on you. He wanted to set everything straight, to talk and potentially tell you important things… But now, it did not matter. There was no post-Estonia. Just you alone in his cold, darkened apartment, full of doubts, regrets, and worries.

Shivering from both the chill and the anxiety, you ventured into the living room. It was an open space with a large leather sofa, TV, record player with shelves full of albums and vinyls. There were also bookcases filled to the brim and a dining table for four. Once your gaze fell onto the black piano in the corner, you did a double-take. Obviously, Neil was musically talented. All those times when he has been desperate to annoy you by singing various corny love songs in public were an indisputable example. A moment like that from Tallinn flashed before your eyes…

You and Neil sat in a restaurant on one of the ‘dates’ you had managed to fit into the schedule before TP arrived in Estonia. Cozied up in the corner on a comfortable sofa, you felt perfectly at peace. Instead of taking the seat opposite, Neil got as close as it was possible without raising eyebrows of the fine clientele. You were chatting about everything and nothing, occasionally taking sips of the coffees and letting your hands rest on each other’s knees. Other times they would be interlocked on the table between the plates, showing to the world that this was no platonic meetup. Using the natural break in the conversation, you finished the remains of your latte and watched as Neil focused on the radio somewhere in the background. By this point, you should have known better, but still, the second he started singing took you by surprise.

‘Pretty woman I don't believe you, you're not the truth No one could look as good as you, mercy’

His gaze settled on you without that mercy, awaiting a response. His lips curled into a deadly smirk, making the matters worse. For a moment, you wanted to ignore him, to deny him the satisfaction. But the way he stared, enunciating the song lyrics with precision and aiming them at you, triggered the familiar desire to stake your claim. To make him (and everyone else) understand that he was yours. Especially with a voice that beautiful and eyes that looked at you with boundless affection.

‘Pretty woman that you look lovely as can be Are you lonely just like me’

It was the cheesy growl at the end of that stanza that did it. Combined with the huskiness of Neil’s voice and his hand appearing on your thigh underneath the table, it was enough to convince you to shut him up the best way you knew. You leaned in, placing your palm on the inside of his thigh, just close enough to remind him. Capturing his lips in a kiss, you did not have to wait long for Neil to invite you closer. You began the intimate dance, getting lost in the moment entirely. With him being in public did not matter. Especially not when he was giving you everything he could on a silver plate. Those days every kiss threatened to evolve into a full make-out session as you tried to get ever closer to him. That is why when you heard an awkward cough followed by “Miss, Sir, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to leave” you could only start laughing. That was two days before your walk, which ended in the alley. The rest was history.

Shaking your head slightly, you let go of the memory. Has it gotten even colder? Shivering, you spotted a sweater draped on the side of the sofa. Crossing the space, you glanced at the instrument that caught your attention. A simple black Kawai piano with a Chopin music score opened on the fallboard and the stool underneath. If there even was a future, you wanted to hear him play something. You could almost picture it. Those long, elegant fingers on the black and white keys, hitting every note with perfection and the flourish he applied to every single task. His gaze focused. Golden hair falling into his eyes carelessly. Lips parted, tongue poking out in concentration. He was bound to be a sight as usual.

Ignoring the waking up flutters that always accompanied every thought about Neil, you picked up the sweater. It was the colour of dark red wine, simple and yet sophisticated in its simplicity. Cashmere. He really is posh. Giving in to the sudden whimsy, you breathed in the smell. That was a mistake. The moment Neil’s essence overwhelmed your senses, you felt a surge of feelings. The musky scent, the hints of bergamot and lavender that always brought comfort. Before you could second guess everything, you put the sweater on, letting the smell envelope you like his hugs always did. It was another thing that you missed. The ability to rest within his strong embrace, safe and wanted. The feeling of his arms cradling you with care. Without the solidity beneath your hands, it was hard to remember how it felt. The sweater had to do. You rolled up the sleeves and approached the large window, drawing back the curtains to see the view and let in light. The sight certainly was not disappointing with the lookout on the Thames and the docking ships. The area looked peaceful, like the place you could want to go out on walks and spend the rest of your life… No, stop. That was a dangerous line of thinking. After all, you only came here to satisfy the curiosity. And because you could, with nothing left to lose. Well, maybe apart from your sanity.

With the day shedding some light onto the furniture and objects in the room, you could more closely assess the type of person Neil was. The décor was rather posh (nothing surprising there) with leather, dark wood, and refined fabrics gracing the space. But upon a closer look, you could see the hints of Neil’s personality shining through the bounds of the stereotypes. It was visible in the chaos of the little details. Billy Idol album discarded on the CD player making you smile. The dying plants on the windowsill. The opened book on the coffee table right next to a bar of chocolate and some bullets. What even… 

Looking around the space, you could easily picture him there. It was like entering a museum of Neil’s life and heart, and you were just a mere visitor. A trespasser even though you had the keys. Lost in the thoughts, you approached the bookshelves, looking over the titles. Young and Freedman’s University Physics with Modern Physics with a worn-out spine and a library stamp on the title page (a theft?). Griffith’s Introduction to Quantum Mechanics with scribbles on the margins, making your head hurt. More Quantum Mechanics but only getting increasingly complex. Spacetime and Geometry. In between the textbooks, there were classics of English and American literature, proving your theory that Neil knew the canon well. All those quotations had to come from somewhere… You looked over the further titles relating to the nuclear area of Physics and relativity of time, only to be thrown out of the moment when your eyes landed on a photograph in a wooden frame. A grinning young man with warm brown eyes and curly dark hair sat on the bench in the park. Alex. Picking up the photo, you took a closer look, feeling inexplicable heaviness in your chest. He looked just like Neil described him – an essence of goodness and understanding. The lump in our throat was strange. He still loved Alex that was a fact and something you took for granted. For a second, you wondered whether you could ever be half that important to him. But that was selfish. And wrong.

Swallowing hard, you put down the frame, focusing on another one nearby. In that photo, you recognized everyone. Ives with slightly longer hair grinning widely, next to him Wheeler with her practical bun and amused eyes, TP relaxed like always when in the company of friends. And then… You would recognize those eyes and sharp jaw anywhere, but… He’s not naturally blonde? You stared at the man who was undoubtedly Neil but with light brown hair, just as messy as usual. Interesting. You did suspect he dyed the hair but still having confirmation was unexpected. Staring a little longer at the photo, you already knew that it did not matter. He was a work of art, full stop. The rest of the photos depicted the Tenet crew, apart from the one you assumed was a family snapshot from years ago. Two happy boys with mundane looking parents and a Labrador retriever (Charlie!). Upon a closer look, you could tell that Neil got his blue eyes after his mother and the smile after his father. It was an interesting discovery. Other objects littering the shelves included postcards, trinkets from travels, and a strange collection of obscure coins. Also, more notebooks with Neil’s equations and theories and music scores. There was no order, just fate, and fancy. Just like him.

Wandering into the kitchen, running your fingertips over various instruments and surfaces, you wanted to soak in the atmosphere of the apartment. So far, the new information was almost overwhelming. But also fascinating in the fact that you already felt like you knew him better. Glancing at the fridge in passing, you froze. Among the cheap promotional magnets and old shopping notes attached to it, there was a rather familiar writing visible. A note you made Anna pass to him many weeks ago. “I’ll be at the shooting range. Meet you for dinner after 5” signed with your initials for practicality. Why has he kept it? It did not make sense. You forgot about the existence of something that inconsequential, yet here it was. Kept in place with a blaring orange magnet from Sainsbury’s. Suddenly feeling a little faint with the implications of the moment, you poured tap water into the glass and sat down on the stool by the kitchen island. You could still remember Anna’s offended stare when you gave her the note with the instruction to pass it to Neil later. That memory triggered another one, much more recent…

In the days leading up to Tallinn, you went out with Neil for a lunch and walk under the guise of planning the logistics of your journey. Sure, there was some planning being done over the tea and sandwiches. But there was also a lot of hand-holding, kissing, and gazing shamelessly. It was during those days, and then the idle hours in the safe house, that you have allowed yourself to love him. The feelings were there for months (most likely), but only after Oslo and the candid conversations in your room, you felt more at ease with them. So far, that PDA was not all that terrifying. And so, when you came back to the London quarters that afternoon, your fingers intertwined, you only realised how it looked like from the outside when Neil tugged you in the direction of Anna’s desk.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, hoping the woman was too busy to see you.

“I told you, need to get that ID sorted,” he explained, matching your conspiratorial tone, completely oblivious to your struggles.

“Yeah, but…” you raised your joined hands as if to show him the issue.

Neil grinned, waving his free hand dismissively.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s not like that’s against the rules” ending the sentence, he took the final step separating you from the desk.

Great. Plastering on the most pleasant of smiles, you met Anna’s accusatory glare. You could not blame her.

“Anna, hi” Neil’s bright grin got met with a cold face of stone.

You vividly remembered that first day at Tenet, when you were filling in the paperwork, observing him flirt with the woman behind the desk. Back then, you were baffled by her reaction, the fluttering of eyelashes and lovesick smiles. Now you wondered how you got to that point and why you were seemingly luckier than she could ever be.

“Yes?”

“My ID is expiring soon. Was wondering if you could give me the form for the new one?” Neil’s chirpy tone made you hide a smile by looking at the floor “I want to get this sorted for after we’re back” he added, with that hopeful gaze barely anyone could ever say no to.

Anna was not any different.

“Naturally,” she spared you a final spiteful look before turning around to use the computer.

Glancing around the empty lobby, you hoped to survive the rest of the encounter without any additional awkwardness. But Neil had other plans. He stepped in closer, nose brushing over your ear, tearing down any illusions about the nature of your relationship. You stifled a sigh when his lips placed a small kiss over your temple.

“Shall we go to yours after this?” the whisper complemented with a ghost of his fingers on the side of your neck made you shiver.

“Maybe…” you cast a wary glance at Anna, but her back was turned.

Thankfully.

“I thought we could resume the planning…” upon the suggestive tone, you turned to meet his gaze.

Surely enough, the playful sparks were there. And the smirk too. Of course. Planning, in this case, most likely meant more cuddling… and potentially kissing. His hands getting accustomed to your body, leaving countless promises for the future. The thoughts alone made you blush. Before Neil could get any closer, Anna’s voice interrupted the moment:

“Here’s your form,” nothing but ice and fury.

So, she must have noticed…

“Thanks” the polite nod made you snicker.

During the next few terribly long minutes, you did your best to avoid looking at the other woman. Or at Neil. Your gaze roamed over the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. Reading the same fire evacuation instructions for the fifth time, you felt a gentle touch on your arm:

“Can I put down your details as my emergency contact?” you looked up straight into those inquisitive blue eyes “I’ve had Ives the last two years, but I think you’re a more accurate option these days,” he explained as though it was obvious.

Emergency contact? You always assumed those were for best friends and spouses. You were not sure which fitted the criteria.  

“How so?” blurting out the only viable question, you met his perplexed gaze.

“… because I’m with you and not with him” the bluntness of the reply made your heart stumble.

“Right”

Of course, you agreed. As a ‘thank you’ that afternoon, Neil kissed you until there was barely any breath left for either of you. Now you missed the feeling of being that desired.

And yet, that stupid note was right there, in your eyes a bright red spot that you could not ignore. Because surely, he must have cared at some point? You finished the remains of water and washed the glass. Then, just for the sake of a distraction, you went through the kitchen cupboards. Nothing surprising. Appliances that looked barely used. Canned food every Brit would be expected to have. The amounts of frozen meals in the lower fridge compartments confirmed another thesis - Neil did not like cooking. That was fair not everyone could be Jamie Oliver. Not that you would prefer him. Certainly not. Shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the thoughts, you opened another cabinet. Wine and glasses, triggering the memory from your date night in Oslo. The way Neil tried to emulate his swank further by pretending to be a sommelier, making you laugh with his fake French accent and sparse knowledge. Upon the efforts to name something else than tannins (that Sauvignon Blanc had little of), you stepped in, shutting him up with a fingertip tracing the outline of his lips, collecting a stray droplet of wine. And then licking your finger clean, much to his shock. The strange snapshot from one of the most eventful nights in your life was a good cue to leave the kitchen and trod down the corridor.

You stepped into the bathroom, curiously glancing at the contents of the cupboards and around the sink. Nothing remarkable. Giving in to the temptation, you sprayed the cologne he used on your wrist and inhaled deeply. Closing the bathroom door, your eyes landed on the room at the end of the corridor. Neil’s bedroom. Involuntarily, you felt a shiver run down your spine. Bedrooms were always a sacred space. The most private of places in the house. The stage set for life’s crucial events. Love, life, and tragedy all began to play out (and end) in there. If there was a room closest to the heart of the owner, it would be the bedroom and its contents. With a shaky hand, you pressed down the handle and opened the door. The interior was almost too mundane. The bed with dark grey covers and decorative pillows. Some artworks on the walls and drawn curtains, forcing you to turn on the ceiling lamp. A small bedside table with a night light and books. A walk-in closet with the sliding doors partly opened. That was what drew you in first, crossing the space you peered inside. Only to be overwhelmed with that Neil smell that made sure to make your heart rate pick up. Gently, you ran your fingers over the suit jackets and sweaters hanged on the rails. He had a multitude of those, in different colours. Eyeing a suit in dark blue, you could imagine how it would bring out his eyes. There were a few sweaters in different shades of green, confirming the suspicions that he liked the colour. Further along, you found a drawer with ties of various patterns, making you grin at one olive green with Labradors on it. Now that was a classic Neil accessory.

Just when you were about to end the ‘snooping’ your gaze landed on a more casual part of the wardrobe. Jeans folded on the shelves, t-shirts, and polos. Even a jean jacket somewhere in the back. In the drawer, you found socks with questionable patterns, only increasing the fondness you felt for the owner of such an eclectic wardrobe. And then you made the mistake of letting your curiosity get ahead of you. Another drawer. Underwear. Your face got warm as you slammed it shut. Enough. Thinking about that could lead to the dangerous territory you would rather not venture out to. At least not when alone in his apartment, overwhelmed with memories and feelings. There would be time for this too later… Hopefully.

Sliding the doors shut, you took in the room again. The pile of books on the bedside table caught your attention. Gingerly, you sat down on the bed, doing your best not to think about the specifics of that moment. You, alone in his bedroom. This was certainly not how you expected to end up in there for the first time. But that too was beyond the point. Sighing, you picked up the stack of books only to drop them onto the covers with hands shaking. You would recognize the cover everywhere. Your favourite book. The exact copy you had last seen in Oslo when you gave it to Neil. That memory was rather unforgettable…

Hanging out in the hotel room, waiting for Mahir and TP to come back from a small errand, you did your best to ignore Neil’s piercing gaze from across space. That was the day after your careless dancing and that evening’s developments when he asked you out. Just before the mission. And Neil was staring, shamelessly so. It was getting on your nerves.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” putting down the itinerary, you broke the silence and faced him.

The satisfied smile was enough to make you groan. He knew exactly what he was doing, as though waiting for the moment to strike when you were alone.

“Actually not, no” the grin widened as he shrugged nonchalantly “Plus you’re quite the sight. As usual” propping his chin on his hand, he kept on gazing.

The bastard was impossible.

“Jesus…” sighing, you rummaged in the bag at your feet “Do you want a book or something?” you took out a worn-out paperback “Because all that staring makes me want to…” trailing off, you met his inquisitive glare.

Want to kiss him. For starters. But he need not know that.

“What? Tell me” Neil spread his legs casually, leaning back in the armchair. An object of pure poise. And the challenge, aimed at you only. That was Neil at the top of his game, sure of what he wanted and how to get it. But you were not going to give it to him easily.

“Better not” the slight shock in his eyes gave you confidence “If yesterday taught me anything, it’s that your ego is big enough” offering him a sly smirk, you took a sip of the water.

When you looked up again, Neil was staring at you with an exaggerated pained expression on his face.

“I’m wounded” he put the hand over his heart like the drama queen that he was.

Scoffing, you laughed at the spectacle. Two could play the game.

“Good,” the offended whine only increased the satisfaction “So do you want that book?” you picked up the paperback, showing it to him “I’ve got my favourite one with me. Could kill some time”

“Yes, please” he got up and crossed the room, taking the book from you “I’ll have a chance to see what’s in that head of yours” Neil leaned down to your level and kissed you on the forehead “Apart from the desire for me, of course” he added, once he moved out of your reach once again.

Fucking hell.

“Neil”

At least there were some fun memories to come back to, you thought, looking through the copy you borrowed Neil. Then you noticed another thing. Under your book, there was another one of the same title. Brand new. Pages filled with Neil’s scribbles on the margins and underlined passages, highlighting the exact same quotations that made this book become your favourite. My god. The realization hit you with a gasp and a shiver. He read it. And not only that, but he also tried to understand you through something you held so dear. Reading the notes he made, you knew he was listening to every word you said. No matter the moment, the stage of your ‘relationship’, evidently, he cared enough to be interested in your thoughts and feelings. You were holding the proof in your hands. In some margin notes, Neil even referred to you using your initials, pointing out why it could resonate with you so much. The more you read, the more it felt like you have encountered his diary, in some form. That would be it when it comes to getting over. Putting down the books, your head was spinning. Too much.

You needed food. And sleep. It was at that moment that you decided to stay. It got late enough to make the journey back inconvenient. And everything was right here. Feeling like Goldilocks personified, you made use of Neil’s frozen food assortment and put on the music. Once you got over the initial shock of the afternoon, it was almost too easy to pretend that Tallinn never happened. That you were still alright. That he still potentially loved you. With the somewhat soothing sounds of Billy Idol and The Darkness, you went over Neil’s notebooks with equations. You understood nothing but the possibility to read his notes and theories was as comforting as it could get. Then, feeling your eyelids get heavy, you cleaned up and moved to the bedroom. Lying down in Neil’s bed felt like sacrilege. But the moment your head rested on the pillow and you inhaled the scent, it was all excused. At least in your eyes. Giving in to the foolish daydreams, you could almost imagine him next to you. The warmth and comfort the cuddles always provided. But you were alone, still wearing that sweater that smelled too good to be given up. It had to be enough. You fell asleep thinking about those damned blue eyes and the man that took the ownership of your heart for good.

*** Upon waking up in the cold apartment the next morning, you wanted nothing but to leave as soon as possible. In the daylight, with dreams of happiness haunting every corner of your mind, the feeling of loneliness was more persistent. You made sure to get rid of any signs of your intrusion, cleaned the kitchen, and made the bed. The only keepsake you could not deny yourself was the cashmere sweater that you stuffed into the bag. Even if he would not want anything to do with you, you could give it back along with the keys. Surely he would understand… right? After everything that you found in his flat, nothing seemed certain anymore.

You made it back to the HQs with just enough time to shower and pack for the next week of sitting in the inversion chambers in the sealed off part of the complex. That did not sound good as it meant more time with too many people in the cramped quarters. You had enough of that at this point. But then that was the prize of getting the most incredible of jobs. That and getting your heart broken. Again.

You joined the rest of the army by the larger turnstile, used purely for long-term inversion, instead of training. Accepting friendly nods from both Ives and Wheeler, you took your place in the queue. No one knew exactly what the purpose of this was. Just that you were supposed to go back eight days and then travel to the Norwegian coastline, awaiting instructions. The intuition that was rarely wrong told you that you were in the endgame from this point onwards.

And so, the next week was restricted to trying not to lose your sanity locked within the four walls. The only escape from the small room was the kitchen (always full of people that wanted to know too much), bathroom (that always had lines of people waiting by the door), and the small courtyard, where you could not step out without the oxygen tank and a mask. Overall, it was not the most pleasant of experiences. Especially when most days you wanted to curl up in bed and contemplate the mess that your life became. And to marinate in pain that became a constant companion. The sweater could only help so much. Accompanied with nerves and worry, you felt objectively shit and did everything to preserve the solitude. That is how you found yourself in the small kitchen at 2 am, eating toasties and drinking tea. Earlier the compound was too busy, and you preferred starving than facing the others. Only with everyone asleep, you could catch up on the meals missed. Well, almost everyone…

“How are you doing?” a voice interrupted your brooding.

You turned in the seat only to see Wheeler enter the room with a small smile on her face. Her you could tolerate, as an exemption.

“Bad” the candid answer seemed only appropriate “But I don’t mind the company, so please… stay” you added upon her hesitation.

She just nodded and proceeded to make a cup of tea. The silence stretched, but for once, it was rather pleasant. Finally, she finished the task and took the seat opposite you, giving you a quick once-over. You knew what she saw. Tangled hair, reddened eyes from lack of sleep, and hours of tears. The sweater that became the only comfort in those early morning moments when nothing seemed real and yet everything was too much.

“Is the sweater his?” she asked plainly, and you could only nod.

At this stage, surely, nothing was bound to surprise her.

“Yeah… Maybe it’s silly, but I took it from his place just to have something… tangible” you explained, consciously running your fingers over the material. Instead of judgement, you got a smile in return.

“No, I understand” Wheeler took a sip from the mug before asking, “Did the apartment give you any answers?”

You have not shared the story with anyone, unable to process it all even in the quiet of your mind. But maybe this was a chance to let it out…

“Mostly whiplash,” you let out a bitter laugh “It’s like… he cares… or cared,” you stumbled over the tense “But then in Tallinn after the shoot-out, he just closed off completely, and I don’t know why” raising your hands in defeat, you planted on your face on the table.

Anything goes. After a moment of utter frustration, you met Wheeler’s inquisitive eyes again. She did not seem bothered by your antics. Just a little concerned by the picture you were painting.

“Maybe it’s trauma” the seriousness of her expression made you think.

You did consider that option. But even knowing what happened with Alex, his reaction seemed too violent. You were alive, and yet he was trying to push you away. Plus, that way of thinking implied something else. Something you did not dare consider.

“That would mean he… loved me” getting the words out was a challenge “And I don’t think he does” you stared at the table, giving in to the thoughts once again “Whatever is going to happen now, I think I need space. Some distance. Trying to get over this won’t work otherwise”

Formulating the feelings that were overwhelming your heart and mind felt somehow relieving. Even if the prospects were anything but good.

“Is that what you want? To let him go?” the straightforward attitude of your companion was helpful.

“I don’t know,” sighing, you met her gaze, “I want… him, but if he doesn’t feel the same then…” with reddened cheeks, you let the sentence trail off.

She would understand, you were sure of that. And, if the slightly suspicious look in Wheeler’s eyes was anything to go by, she had her ideas about the topic.

“You should probably try talking to him again” she spoke after a few minutes of silence.

“Last time that ended terribly,” you replied, arching your eyebrows, begging her to remember how bad that container conversation went.

“I know,” Wheeler patted your shoulder reassuringly, “But I also know that sometimes Neil needs a proper kick in the ass before he sees what’s right in front of him” she got up and went to the sink, picking up both of your dishes.

With the soothing soundtrack of the washing, you could feel almost sleepy. If it was not for that never-ending chatter of your thoughts.

“If you say so…” you murmured when she turned the tap off.

“Go to sleep. It’s just two days more of this torture” giving you a final smile, Wheeler left the kitchen.

You could survive two days. After that? Who knows. But it had to be alright.