#and b)she. eventually apologizes. they have ups and downs and it takes a while b4 aggi fully trusts alphinaud's judgement in certain matters

[seaseren]

Genuinely. The idea of needing someone who is so much stronger than you, who is irreplacable, who could leave at a moment and there's nothing you could do and you would all be fucked- and this person has no regard for you, actively resents you, finds you a nuisance at best and at worst actively dislikes you is the stuff of a great psychological horror. Having to mold yourself around this person who is a walking army, a ticking bomb who you know thinks you're useless and demanding and just dead weight- and you look up to them. They have to be right. They're the hero, aren't they?

[exhaslo]

Puzzle Pieces Ch.3

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2

Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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

It was another rough day at work for you. The only ray of sunshine you had all day was the scary, Miguel O'Hara, actually talking to you. He was so good looking that it made your heart flutter. You knew he was bad news, but you were desperate for anything to make you happy these days.

Stepping out of the supermarket with a small bag of groceries, you sighed as it started to pour. You had an umbrella, but someone stole it right before you clocked out. It wasn't too far of a walk, but you were still going to get soaked.

Taking a few deep breathes, you decided to make a run for it. Your place wasn't too far away. The rain could stop at any moment. It was fine! Yelping, you whimpered as you slipped and fell into a puddle on the sidewalk. Your groceries falling everywhere.

"N-No," You whimpered, trembling as you picked everything up alone.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you kept whispering that you were fine. You were tired of this life already. You flinched as a foot appeared beside your canned corn. You glanced up, shaking as Miguel stood before you, holding an umbrella out.

"Need a lift?"

-----------

A few minutes prior, Miguel was sitting in the back seat of his chair, listening to Lyla over his phone. She was repeating his schedule out to him for his official job. Miguel groaned lowly, not wanting to have to deal with any of Alchmax's partners.

Hearing the rain, Miguel glanced out his window. He noticed you standing in front of the supermarket, staring at the rain before making a run for it. He told his driver to slow down, wanting to watch you a bit longer while Lyla kept talking.

His eyes widen slightly as you fell. Miguel told his driver to stop and hung up with Lyla. Looks like his little bunny needed saving. This wasn't something new, but you weren't like other girls. You weren't going to throw yourself onto him like the others.

Miguel smiled casually as he grabbed an umbrella and approached you. He stopped and held the umbrella over you, watching those tears stream down your cheeks. You were so fragile. All the more delicious to break in bed.

"Need a lift?" He offered, observing the shape of your body through your soaked clothes.

"U-Um..." Your lips began to tremble as you finished picking up the last of your dented groceries, "I-I don't w-want to be a b-bother. I-I appreciate the...the offer...but..." You kept avoiding his gaze, still crying.

Miguel was adoring this new treat. How easy you were to approach. No girl would hesitate to get in a car with him, yet here you were. A shy little bunny afraid of the big bad wolf. Miguel was enjoying this game. He reached out and easily wiped a tear from your eye,

"I wouldn't have asked if I thought you were a burden. My car is over there, I'll take you straight home." Miguel offered once more.

"A-Are you-" You stopped, seeing him get slightly annoyed, "T-Thank you, sir. S-Sorry again...for burdening you," You apologized again.

Miguel felt a rise as you called him, 'sir'. How nicely it rolled off your tongue. Miguel kept his eyes on you as his driver opened the door for the both of you. Your groceries going in the truck. Miguel sat beside you, having the heat turn up since you were shivering.

"Where do you live?" Miguel asked. You flinched,

"R-Right! S-Sorry!" You stuttered and told the driver your address.

Miguel leaned back in his seat, watching you put your seatbelt on. He nearly scoffed at the sight, finding you hilarious. You kept playing with your fingers, apologizing for everything. Hell, at this rate, Miguel was going to have to apologize to you for fucking you later.

"You're very naïve," Miguel said bluntly, causing you to flinch, "Never enter another person's vehicle. You're lucky that it was me, conejita. (bunny)" He warned.

"I'm sorry,"

"You wouldn't want your boyfriend to worry," Miguel glanced at your reaction, wanting to see if his prey was taken or not.

Not that it mattered.

"I-I don't have one...E-Even if I-I...I did, he...he wouldn't care." You said sadly, recalling how many times Eddie left you to fend for yourself.

Miguel noticed the small things about you. You were gripping your sleeves tightly while your body shook, not from the cold, but from mentioning your ex. Your cheeks started to burn as tears threaten to spill. This was not an easy topic for you.

"So, single and living alone in the big city? Haces esto demasiado fácil. (You make this too easy)" He hummed.

You glanced over at Miguel, admiring him. You knew better than to enter a stranger's car, even if he was a regular. Honestly, at this point you didn't care. Maybe it was for the best if someone took you away. Pinching yourself at the thought, you decided to keep the conversation going. To distract yourself.

"I...I had to leave...I-I thought I'd be...I'd be able to s-survive here. But...I guess I can't."

"You just need some help," Miguel noticed the area they were driving into, "You live here?"

"I-It's all I could...a-afford." You stuttered before sneezing.

You whined softly as you kept sneezing. Sometimes you had these spirts. Once you finished you saw Miguel's hand getting closer to you. Recalling times where Eddie would hit you to be quiet, you flinched and covered your head.

Miguel withdrew his hand as he noticed your reaction. He furrowed his brows before the car came to a stop. He knew that reaction all too well. Glancing at the shady apartment building, Miguel got out of the car and opened the door for you,

"I'm not going to hit you," He said and helped you out, "Let me walk you upstairs."

"Sir, this is-"

"I know where we are." Miguel hissed lowly and followed behind you, "Wait for me down here and don't make contact with anyone."

---------

You were shaking as you tried to open your door. Miguel was right behind you with your groceries. You felt embarrassed for reacting the way you did. All he was doing was helping you. Once you were finally inside, you quickly gave him a glass of water before rushing to change.

Miguel took this opportunity to look around your shabby apartment. You were grabbing his attention faster than anyone else. Miguel was starting to want you for himself. A cute little trophy to have in his room.

"S-Sorry I took s-so long," You stuttered, coming out in all long sleeves again. Miguel felt his eye twitch,

"No need to apologize. As you know I do more than just shop at your work." Miguel watched you carefully, "I'll get to the chase. You're new to this city and I've taken an interest in you."

"H-Huh?! Y-You h-have...but...but..." You sat down, covering your lower face with your sleeve, "I-I'm n-nothing...s-special."

"Estás seguro de que te hizo un número. (You're ex sure did a number on you.)" Miguel muttered and approached you once more, "Allow me to get to know you before you make such assumptions."

"Mhm," You looked away from him, sinking into your seat.

You weren't sure if you ready to see anyone, but this would be a good way to distract you. Miguel did seem kind to you at least. Biting your lower lip, you had to remind yourself about Eddie. He was kind to you at first too. You needed to have faith in people. Glancing back at Miguel, you gulped,

"O-Okay, I-I'll g-give you a chance."

Miguel just grabbed your free hand in response and kissed it. He smiled towards your flustered reaction and made his way out. You followed him, waving him goodbye before closing the door. You bit your lower lip and sat against your door.

"P-Please...be g-good to me."

---------

Miguel sat in his car, listening to Lyla lecture him. He had his arms crossed as he glanced at where you sat prior. He wanted to know more. Especially about what you've been through. Miguel wasn't going to have his new prey already broken.

"Lyla, I want you to gather as much information on (Y/N). I want to know what egg shells I need to avoid."

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

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190

🔮🕯🍃🥀🌑🌌���️

next chapter

[somber-sapphic]

Uuhh can I request a Natasha x Sick!Reader. R is sorta new to the Avengers and doesn't really talk to anyone but Nat, R gets sick on a mission and no one seems to notice except Nat. R tries to take care of themselves back at the compound but can't so Natasha steps in? You can make it romantic or platonic I'm cool with either. Thanks in advance! And if you already have a fic like this my b just ignore 😅

Sickness and Secrets

〖Notes: Hey, sorry this was so late! Also I might accidentally be reusing pictures but its like 2am so I'll care about that later. I hope you enjoy it!〗

〖Summary: Being the newest member of the Avengers you really have no place to take a sick day.〗

〖Word Count: 1.4k〗

〖Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You coughed quietly into your shoulder and cleared your throat, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. They were all focused on Cap who was yelling about how poorly everyone had done in that last mission. He was particularly focused on “communication” which was definitely pointed at you although he was too polite to say it. Tony wasn’t. Eventually, he’d strengthen the link to you, and you’d be chewed out in front of everyone.

Said mission had been in Russia during the winter and you had not done very well. You’d then try your best to remedy your mistake, which of course made everything worse. You knew that you were sick before the team left, but being so new you couldn’t just say that you wouldn’t be able to go. None of the Avengers would skip a mission for a stupid little cold.

Then that stupid little cold had turned into something bigger. The fever had started the first night in that cold drafty cabin and had spiked by early that morning. Natasha, who you were sharing that tiny room with, had checked on you once when she’d heard your teeth clattering from the shivering. She had tried to order you to tell her, but you had been far too out of it for her words to have mattered.

You couldn’t entirely remember the conversation, but you were like 80% sure that she’d offered you a place in her bed if you couldn’t get warm. That had been a weird offer, but you were tempted to take her up on it. From what you remembered she had kissed your forehead but that was very likely a dream. No way she had actually done that, she barely knew you.

Regardless of your fever, the mission continued. And with it, you gained a chesty cough, aching limbs, and a seemingly permanently runny nose. You had done the best you could, but it admittedly wasn’t very good. You’d forgotten to say anything when you were attacking and apparently had your comms off the whole time so even when people were speaking to you your answers weren’t going through.

You did not do well and now Tony was very much making sure that you knew it. His words were a low buzz in your ears, and it was really all that you could do to keep your eyes trained on him as he paced around yelling at you.

Now everyone was looking between the two of you, a few smirks coming from Clint and Thor who were both amused by your proverbial ass-whooping. Natasha and Cap seemed annoyed while the others were just not listening, too tired to care. It had been a long week and you had screwed it up. All you did was mess up.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes and you stared down at your shoes, sniffling quietly as you tried to keep yourself under control. This wasn’t professional and you needed to keep yourself professional. It would’ve been easier if he wasn’t yelling, but he was, and you were losing control.

“Hey, we get it. Y/n fucked up. She’ll do better next time, let it go.” Natasha snapped, pulling you out of your stupor. You glanced over at her and found her leaning forward defensively with one hand drifting over to your side of the table.

Completely overwhelmed now you shoved the chair back from the table and stumbled out of the conference room, mumbling slurred apologies as you practically ran from the room. You’d made it about halfway to the elevator when your legs gave out and you slammed into the wall, bashing your cheek against the hardwood. It hurt, but not as much as the rest of you.

You let out what was probably the most pathetic sound you’d ever made as you slid down the wall, the stupid tears beginning to fall from your eyes. You were miserable, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and maybe die a little bit. That sounded okay, as long as you didn’t have to feel anything.

You weren’t sure how long you were laying there before you heard muffled footsteps, but you simply didn’t have the energy to look up. It didn’t really matter anyway; you could feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness. It would only be a few more seconds before you faded away completely.

“Let’s get you off the floor Y/n.” Natasha whispered, taking your hands in hers. You tried to listen, you tried to let her pull you to your feet, but you were too weak. You felt her arms slip around you and your feet left the floor, leaving you hanging in the air with only her to support you.

“Try to stay awake, okay?” Her voice was fading fast and as you’d guessed, you were out less than two seconds after she’d hoisted you into her arms. At least you didn’t have to be alone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay beautiful, I’m here.” Natasha soothed, pushing your hair back away from your forehead, her eyes full of concern. Her hands, which were typically consumed by acts of violence, were so gentle, her movements so slow and caring. She traced your cheekbone with a thumb, studying your face with a furrowed brow.

“m’sorry, m’so sorry. Go, please go, ‘m fine.” You insisted, shoving her off of you in a blind attempt to scramble away from her. You found yourself pressed up into a corner between your bed and the wall, utterly confused as to how the hell you had gotten into your bedroom or why Natasha was there, but you didn’t like it.

You didn’t want to see her so weak it was humiliating, and you were new. She would tell, she would get you booted from the Avengers. You needed this job, you needed to be here, you’d worked so hard and couldn’t go back to your apartment. Literally, you had been evicted. You had nowhere else to go.

Your panicky breaths quickly turned to a fit of aggressive coughs, you sounded like you’d smoke a pack a day for twenty years. This did nothing to help your anxiety as one of Natasha’s warm hands fell on your back and she took yours with the other, running her thumb across your knuckles.

“Y/n, hey, you’ve gotta breathe. Try for me, okay? Big slow breath.” She encouraged, her voice calm even while you were actively freaking out. You let out a loud sob and tried to pull away, subconsciously still holding tightly to her hand.

With her quiet encouragement, you managed to calm yourself down, turning back into the shivering, feverish husk of a person that you’d become. Your nose was running onto your sleeve, but you were too exhausted to do anything about it, eventually, you’d fall asleep again and it would all go away.

“Come here,” she said softly, lifting one arm as she gestured for you to hug her. You whimpered, lower lip quivering as your body threatened to start crying again.

“It’s okay honey, you don’t need to be alone. When I’m as sick as you are I sometimes make Clint come read to me.” You smiled a little at the thought of that as you inched toward the woman, the idea of Natasha wanting a story read to her sort of amusing. You hadn’t known the woman very long, but it was long enough to know that she wasn’t that type of person.

With very slow, cautious movements you inched into the redhead’s arms, leaning stiffly against her as she pulled you into a loose embrace.

“I can’t give you any more medicine for a few hours, so for now let’s just try to sleep. Does that sound okay?” The highly skilled assassin murmured, pressing a very soft kiss to your damp forehead. You knew that it had to be gross, you were very sweaty, but she didn’t seem to mind. Not out loud at least.

“P-please don’t tell.” You pleaded, that same exhaustion looming again. It was unlikely that you would be able to stay awake for much longer, but you had to make sure that she wouldn’t tell anyone how weak you were. Natasha chuckled quietly and rubbed your upper arm in a comforting way.

“It’s okay dorogaya, your secret’s safe with me.”  Maybe if you were feeling better, you would’ve made her promise a second or third time, but for now, that would do. You barely knew her, but you already trusted Natasha Romanoff with your life.

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[lovelyjj]

IDK if u take requests but i had a story: jj has always been flirty with her and she invites them to her cabin and she goes alone in one car with jj and shes tryna grab a drink and a bump on the road = her falling on his lap bc its a one long truck seat. and then she quickly has to get off after almost kissing bc her phone rings bc the others need the gate code. then while they are swimming they are just drinking and spinning in the water while the song “three little birds” plays in the background and they are close to kissing bc she is just wrapped around jj just goofing around. and ofc another distraction pope is coming with a drink. so they back off AGAIN and when they are finally alone in her room in the cabin BOOM THEY CAN FINALLY KISS AND HE HAS BEEN WAITING FOR IT

Cozy Cabin

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.4k

a/n: sorry this kinda sucks

“Hey beautiful,” JJ announced.

JJ always flirts with you. You however brush it off as nothing because your sure he does this with every girl. You weren’t special.

“Hi J,” you responded.

“Your really pretty you know that?” JJ mused. He came up to you and started twirling your hair with his finger.

“Cut it out JJ,” you swatted his hand away.

“I have something to ask you. Well i have something to ask everyone. Let’s go inside,” you reasoned.

John B, Sarah, Kie and Pope were in the living room. You entered the room with JJ behind you.

“Hey guys! I was wondering if you wanted to go up to my cabin next weekend.”

“Really that sounds great!” John B responded.

“I’d love to,” Sarah commented.

“That sounds fun!” Kiara added.

“Great! Then it’s settled,” you announced.

—————

Next weekend came up quickly. You and JJ decided to drive up together. Your dad lent you his truck for the weekend.

JJ was driving. It was his turn as you guys split the drive in half by taking turns. The two of you were talking and laughing when you decided you wanted a drink.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned around in your seat. Just as you were grabbing a drink from the cooler the truck jerked you backwards.

You landed on JJ’s lap and your arms were slung around his neck.

JJ grabbed ahold of you by the waist when you fell on him.

“Sorry there was a bump in the road.” JJ apologized.

JJ came to a halt. He stopped the truck because he was at a red light. The bump was right before the light.

“It’s okay I’m fine Just fell on you.” You were looking right into JJs blue eyes. They were twinkling.

All of a sudden JJ reached his hand out to tuck some hair behind your ear. His hand stayed by your face as he rested his hand on your cheek. JJ used his thumb to stroke your skin.

JJ was looking at you like you were his whole world and he looked like he wanted to kiss you.

His lips were inches away from yours you could feel his breath on your face.

Just as JJ was leaning in to place his lips on yours, your phone began to ring.

You ducked your head down and went to reach for your phone. JJ muttered “damn it” but you didn’t hear him. You got off of JJ’s lap and pulled your phone out of the pocket, sitting back next to JJ.

You looked at the person calling you and saw that it was Sarah.

You swiped the green answer button.

“Hey Sarah what’s up.”

“Hey Y/N, John B needs the gate code.”

“Oh right sorry. It’s 607892.”

“When do you think you guys will be here?” Sarah questioned.

“We’re about 15 minutes away.”

“Ok see you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Um that was Sarah she needed the gate code.” You broke the silence.

“So they are there already,” JJ asked.

“Yeah I guess so,” you responded.

“But we should be there real soon” you added.

Eventually you and JJ arrived at your cabin. The rest of the pogues were there ready to greet you.

“Yay now we can pick rooms!” Kiara exclaimed.

“You’ll get your room obviously,” Sarah spoke to you.

“John B and I will get the room upstairs and Pope and Kiara can get the room downstairs.”

“What about JJ?” you voiced.

“The couch looks pretty comfortable,” JJ said from his place behind you.

“Great then it’s settled.” Sarah clapped her hands together.

“You guys wanna get ready to swim?” you asked.

Everyone liked the idea of going for a swim. You and the pogues got ready to swim. You put on your blue bikini and went to get some towels from the closet.

The pool area was nice and big. It was a nice secluded place and a good size pool.

Once everyone was outside by the pool you announced, “Hey i’m gonna connect my phone to the speaker.”

“Sounds good,” John B responded.

“What kind of music do you guys want to hear?”

“Anything really.” JJ added.

You clicked a random playlist and it blasted through the speaker.

Soon everyone was in the pool splashing and swimming.

JJ couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. The idea of kissing you has always swirled around in his mind but he never though it actually might happen. He couldn’t stop thinking about the almost kiss. Did you want to kiss him? He didn’t know. But one thing that was fore sure he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to feel his lips on yours, to taste you.

Yeah JJ loved you always have always will. You were like a ray of sunshine to him, lighting up his darkest nights. You we’re always there for JJ and he deeply appreciated it. Loving you was simple because you were perfect in his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked as you swam over to JJ.

“Huh oh what nothing.”

“You looked deep in thought,” you reasoned.

“I was just thinking about dinner,” JJ responded.

“Oh right of course.”

You were spinning around with a drink in your hand.

“Come here,” JJ beckoned.

You swam right in front of him and looped your arms around his neck. You were wrapped around JJ just goofing off. Then “Three Little Birds” started playing through the speaker.

JJ was smiling having you this close to him. He was loving it. The two of you were in your own little world. JJ took a sip of his drink. Then he got really close.

JJ made eye contact with you and then flickered his gaze down to your lips. You tilted your head up to give him access to your mouth.

You thought he was about to kiss you but then Pope came in announcing that he brought more drinks.

“Hey guys I brought more- wait am I interrupting something?” Pope asked holding more drinks.

“No not all,” JJ replied grumpily.

You didn’t know what to do so you started laughing. JJ seemed upset but you didn’t pry.

After lots of drinking and swimming you guys retired into the cabin. Everyone changed and got cozy on the couches.

JJ came up to you, “Can we talk?” he asked.

“Yeah, let’s go in my room.”

You led JJ to your room and got comfortable on your bed. JJ came and sat down next to you.

“Listen, my heart physically hurts not telling you that I’m in love with you,”

“JJ-“

“No. Let me finish,” he pleaded.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and your always on my mind. I thought I made it obvious with how I always flirt with you.” JJ continued.

“When you flirt with me i get so confused because i feel like you do that with every girl,” you spoke.

“It’s only ever been you y/n,” JJ replied.

“I only flirt with you, no one else.”

“Really?”

“Yes. and i’m absolutely dying to kiss you.” JJ exclaimed.

You gave him a nod signaling that it’s ok for him to kiss you. JJ was eager to kiss you. He surged forward and locked his lips with yours. Your lips were caressing each other, crushing together.

JJ felt warm all over. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Your cheeks were burning, the sensation feeling different. JJ cupped your face in his hands and you snuck your hands into his hair.

JJ swiped his tongue against your bottom lip asking for entrance, which you granted him.

Your tongues danced together in a lust filled haze. You pulled on JJ’s hair releasing a groan from him. This sent you into a frenzy desperate to hear that sound again.

Eventually your lungs were clenching and you needed more air. You pulled away out of breath. JJ looked at you grinning like a idiot. He was so happy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that,” JJ confessed.

You giggled and pecked his lips one more time.

“I love you,” JJ spoke again.

“I love you too J,” you announced.

Like he was holding his breath JJ let out a breath of air, he was relieved. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you didn’t love him back. JJ was feeling grateful that you invited him to your cabin. He finally got to kiss you and he has been waiting for it.

[idv-sunsxin3]

can i request a scenario where a handful of the suitcase gang accidentally consumed sotheby's potion (idk how, they just did lmao) and so turning into their udimos for a day.

w/ diggers, pavia, and horropedia pls. WHEEZE just them tryna grab your attention and you trying to decipher what they want or need 🤣

Pavia, Horropedia, Diggers // Turning into their Udimo

Note// 100% fluff. And not pun intended/ih

____

"Y/N!!!" A distressed, familiar voice of a lady yells as you were minding your own business on whatever you were doing(hot mc stuff ig/lh)

"Ms. Sotheby??? What's the matter?" You were nearly startled by her scream that followed after. Asking with a concerned look as you turned to face her - only to see her holding something that is trying to get out of her grip -

"Ms. Y/N!! Please help!!!" Sotheby cries as she raises this creature towards your face as you automatically flinch back in fear of colliding faces with the small one.

"Wait a minute, is that udimo my partner uses on the suitcase---" You were about to point out something once analyzing until you were cut off.

"I know, I know!!! I miscalculated;;; I was working on a potion and and- I accidentally dropped it on the suicase-- and now he is turned into this!!! It'll worn off in one day, i promise- E-EEP!!"

The young lady whines before squeaking when the creature succeeds in escaping from her grip and jumps on you. Making you quickly try to catch it.

"Wow, there!" You say, caught off-guard until you got licked on the tip of your mouth by the udimo, "H-Hey!! That tickles...-!" You say as you try to muffle your giggles while trying to get the udimo to stop licking or poking your face.

Quietly watching you get along with the udimo, it suddenly gave a lightbulb to the little lady with the big hat.

"How about you take care of him as he seems to prefer your company than mine?" Sotheby offers, "I got an earful from Ms. Sonetto on Ms. Timekeeper's behalf, so I have to clean up the suitcase anyway -" She twiddles her thumbs with a nervous cheeky smile.

"Oh, sure." You sweat as you feel unease yet sparkled by the idea, not sure how to take care of someone who is in their udimo form. But it is just one day, right? Plus, your pretty boy looks so cute in this form that you can't help but nuzzle your face on him--!!!

.

.

.

He licks you again...

Huh. We have to work on that;;;

____

//Pavia//

Pavia is not pleased... not even a single bit when he becomes aware of his condition.

Barks in 'M*RDE!!!'

He is already making some plans on to talk to Sotheby after that--(uh oh).

But on the brighter side--- he finally can talk to his children in their language. Now he has to run with them and other kinds of wolf pack stuff like he wished to do before when he was like... a man/lh

He was growling and barking like some edgy pup the entire time he was woth Sotheby. Who was so terrified the entire time she had to put him into a cage(hahaha) with the help of some people before coming to you.

The moment he found you, he got even more insane by barking louder. As if telling 'Y/N!!! Y/N!!! HERE!! GET ME OUT OF THIS TINY JAIL!!' until he realized it just kept scaring you away, becoming harder to ask for help.

So he ended up trying to apologize by making whimpering noises as his ears went droopy while now dropping on the floor as if trying to chill with his small angry tears - huh??? Is that really Pavia???

You eventually help im release him before Sotheby can protest - that he's now nudging his nose on to your knee as if silently asking for attention. Whimpering more with his eyes now sparkling at you.

"Aww... easy there."

He rubs his face on your leg now as you rub his ears. His tail washing and calming down...

Well, until he starts barking and trying to chase Sotheby to bite her if only she didn't immediately dash away - aiyayai....

Once you feel less intimidated by him, now he tries to tell you he wants gelato just by dragging you by the shirt and pawing a picture of it with his claws.

REALLY, BOY...? THAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU WANNA DO??

I guess he really wants to chill down with something cool, huh--

But then you quickly remember that the dessert won't be wolf friendly--- so you gently nag him that you can'tgive it to him---

.

.

.

Pavia licks your hand before licking you.

"Hey- You should stop doing that or else I'm going to be drenched with your saliva;" You whine as you try to clean your cheek. He doesn't listen and starts licking and softly biting on your arm, too, as if teasing, "Stoooopp--!"

It will be a long day...---

The next day, when he finally comes back to normal, that's when things are really getting crazy again.

You were sleeping with him, so the moment you were starting to slowly wake up from your slumber, you swear you feel strong arms around your body as if clinging on you---

You quickly wake up to notice the familiar tattoos on the knuckles of the hands--- identifying them as your boyfriend's.

But the thing is, you didn't expect to find him naked on the bed beside you.

"AH-" You were about to fall off the bed the moment you wake up and see him - LIKE WHO WOULDN'T JFHDNRNR???

It didn't take a second to catch you before pulling you close to his bare chest. Cuddling against you.

"...Buongiorno." He says with a smug look. Before licking your nose.

"Hey!!!"

"Heh."

___

//Horropedia//

Tilts head in doggo.

He really didn't have this on this year's bingo list. Okay/lh

The sad part is that he can not even be capable of yapping about stuff to you!!! How cruel;;; (it still doesn't spare the fact he woofs a lot as if he's talking)

But well, he was actually calm and rational enough to just follow Sotheby so she can help him find you--- the moment where he spots you is when he gets off of her grips and paws on your shirt. Wagging his tail so quickly.

Starts yapping and barking nonstop at you. Your poor self is having calculations on your mind about wth is he saying--- 'Y/N, omg, can you believe this??? I'm a dog, a dog!!! This is bad, so bad!!!' Bark bark bark bark ba-

Of course, he is aware that the potion will be worn off eventually. He just wanted to scare you by thinking he is panicking= meaning it's actually bad. Since it's rare for him to panic like that.

But spoilers= it's not really bad, lol.

It gets him desperate to want you to know what he wants, not just your attention, that he keeps pawing you gently to your forehead as if bonking you

'Noooo wrong, that's not what I meant..!' Puppy whimpering as he says that internally;;;

So far other than the noises and how talkative he usually is, it really honestly didn't make much of a difference when he is yapping at you in dog(like he gives dog energy when he is goofing or looking happy--)

But yeah, he always paws your leg whenever asking you to reach something for him many times--- like a horror novel from the top shelf, magazines, whatever that can keep him entertain without reminding himself of the predicament until it's over---

You ended up giving him a lot of books on his bed and dog friendly snacks so he can just sit there and flip the pages by himself with his nose---- smart doggo...

Now the way he is getting pampered by being helped in reaching stuff is pretty nice. Even he has a day off from work to binge on his hobby with you now!!! What a paradise.

Once he turns back to normal- he'll be shocked.

Like the moment he starts to wake up from hus sleep, he has a blurred vision of his hands caressing your neck as your back was facing him - wait, HANDS???

He takes a look at his hands as if it is a dream. He pinches himself - ouch, not a dream for sure... Then, he notices something..

Why does he feel chilly.

He slowly looked under the sheets -

He is naked, yep.

He was about to say "yikes-" but remembers you're still sleeping. Keeping that in mind, he tries to sneak away from the bed to go get some clothes -

Until your hands started palming to where he is, pulling him closer to you once they found him.

Now he is a statue. A sweating, flustered, naked statue.

Sigh... those typical aftermath scenes of a person turning back to humans from animals but ends up being naked - how typical indeed. He's gotta wake you up on this one now, huh.

Hey, he doesn't have much fear about waking you up- but accidentally flashing you with his naked slim body in the process is a different story!!!!

"Eh... eh... oh... Babe...?" He whispers as he tries to poke your sides.

... Now, this is a true horror scene in his mind.

____

//Diggers//

He really thought it was juice.

But no, it wasn't;;; 😭

He was calm enough to stay in Sotheby's arms until he decided to hop into yours--- staring intensively at you with those big eyes that seem like they're about to cry;;;

'Baby, help me,,,," 😭🥺 He pleads, but ends up sounding like he is croaking softly. Crap...

Now he's going to be a frog inside a bubble for one day - how is he going to eat now when he's hungry???

He was about to make more worried frog noises as he had to come to the conclusion he had to meditate throughout hunger;;; until you just simply popped his big bubble with a finger.

...Oh.-

The Frog now hops into your arms now, croaking almost as if it’s purring in 'thank you'.

Awww...

So far, Diggers has been a pretty peaceful frog vibing on the palm of your hands.

Well, he may also go silly and start jumping and hopping everywhere at his van - all carefree and adventurous. He would try and watch how high he is when trying to move around outdoors.

Despite him being on your palms once in a while because his skin needs to breath sometimes, he doesn't demand much from you as he always seems to take liking of stating at you work--- except that he has these big doe eyes of a tiny frog now.

I can imagine that he sometimes floats when he summons the huge bubble back to engulf him--

he would be struggling to control how to float towards you at first, but the more willing he wants to stay close to you, the better he was at it;;;

It didn't help when you told him you were just going to be off for 2 minutes for a drink, and he's already trying to follow you by blowing bubbles with his own mouth😭

His doe eyes only close for a long time whenever you gently rub his tiny head;;;;

Once he goes back to normal, he is surprised when seeing his state---- happy surprise.

He wasn't fazed by the fact that he's naked. It's so funny.

Now he sobs happily as he can finally be a man once again---!!! Freedom!!!

He giggles happily before planting kisses on your forehead once seeing you wake up and blushing from seeing him shirtless.

"Darling, I'm finally back,,,"

(also mopping on a corner.... Thinking he has been acting so chaotic around you, he couldn't forgive himself and that he won't get head rubs from you fhdhdbdb)

Oh, how much he underestimated you - you still give him headrubs!!! (He luvs them so much, my god;;)

[imdead770]

omg love the idea of steve x childhood friend reader!! could you do that for soda too

Sodapop Curtis x Reader - Childhood Friends

Authors Note - Slowly (but surely) getting back into writing. Fingers crossed I don't have another words aren't wording era. Enjoy!

▪︎ Dear, darling Sodapop

▪︎ I know exactly how you met Sodapop

▪︎ I'm third grade, you got paired up with him for some art project

▪︎ And he sucked ass

▪︎ This kid couldn't do anything

▪︎ He can barely read, his hand writing sucks, he can't color inside the lines

▪︎ But for some reason you liked him enough to stick with him all these years

▪︎ Maybe it was how he apologized at least 50 times that you were carrying the project

▪︎ Or maybe it was how he'd still try his hardest to comprehend the big words on the instructions

▪︎ One of the big words including 'instructions'

▪︎ I personally believe Sodapops dyslexic, you can disagree, go for it

▪︎ But the moment he realized he wanted to stick with you was that project

▪︎ How patient you were with him

▪︎ How you helped him read the instructions

▪︎ How you whispered in his ear whenever he forgot half the words to his presentation

▪︎ He didn't really know what love was, he was a kid

▪︎ But looking back on it, that's the moment he fell

▪︎ Fast forward a few years, middle school.

▪︎ I think around 7th grade Sodapop realized just how hot he was

▪︎ He could've pulled a sophomore if he wanted to

"Ya' see that! She was lookin' at me!"

"Every girl looks at you, Soda, it ain't a big deal."

▪︎ You two still did a lot of projects together

▪︎ Normally you did the work

▪︎ But hey, he was good emotional support

▪︎ Eigth grade

▪︎ Somehow both of you managed to have glow ups the exact same year

▪︎ With his jawline being as sharp as Micheal Myer's knife

▪︎ And your body doing its weird maturing thing

▪︎ Which didn't go unnoticed by Sodapop, by the way

▪︎ He fell for you all over again, only this time he had hormones and you had a body that could kill

▪︎ You hung out around the gang a lot

▪︎ Dallas flirted with you a lot

▪︎ Everytime Soda would butt in

▪︎ Everytime the gang teased him about it when you left

"Ya' like 'em."

"What? Na'"

"So can I date 'em?"

"I'll kill ya'"

"Told ya', likes 'em. Gimme that 10, Two."

"Aw, fuc-"

▪︎ Whenever Soda dropped out of high-school he was all freaked out your friendship would end

▪︎ He thought you'd stick with your school friends

▪︎ Instead you two just got closer

▪︎ You'd catch him up on what drama he was missing while he told you stories from DX

▪︎ It was a daily tradition

▪︎ If you were swamped with homework he wouldn't even try

▪︎ He'd still talk until his lips hurt though

▪︎ YOU COMFORTED HIM AFTER SANDY

▪︎ He came over to your place, all quiet and teary eyed

▪︎ That was the second time he cried in front of you

▪︎ The first being the time a bunch of socs picked on him in 6th grade

▪︎ Anyways

▪︎ Eventually the gang got fed up

▪︎ He was well over Sandy

▪︎ He was head over heels for you

▪︎ You went of your way to see him

▪︎ I think someone bet that Steve couldn't get Soda to date you

▪︎ And Steve went all out

▪︎ He practically threatened Soda

▪︎ Soda did it on his own but Steve takes credit

▪︎ He asked you on one of your catch up nights

"So, remember that sophomore gi-"

"I like ya'."

"What."

▪︎ You just sat there for a second, completely awestruck

▪︎ You were gonna say that sophomore girl that liked him got knocked up

▪︎ But that was pushed into the shadows of your brain

"Uh.. I like you too."

▪︎ This man smiled

▪︎ Like pure

▪︎ '😀'

▪︎ He didn't really know how to express emotions after Sandy

▪︎ So he just kissed you

▪︎ Flat out, lips on lips, kissed you

▪︎ After you pulled away he hugged you, smiling into your neck

▪︎ And you were smiling right back

▪︎ Not that he could see it, but still

▪︎ Took a second and ran to tell the gang

▪︎ They all either

A) Flipped out

Or

B) Expected it and didn't care

▪︎ Either way he was jumping up and down

▪︎ Dallas had to tell him at least 10 times to shut up about you

▪︎ He didn't let you go home

▪︎ Cuz like, he was your boyfriend now, he had to be within 10 feet of you

▪︎ After you two started dating he held your hand every single day

▪︎ Cuz like, he's waited over 5 years for this moment

▪︎ Other then the PDA and dates, nothing changes

▪︎ Yay

[shippingmyworld]

Hi there!

I read that one and really liked your headcanon about Danny and his relationships with his exs and wondered if you had any for JimmyTimmy? I know you're more a tigerghost blog so it's okay if you don't!

It's so funny that I have that reputation since I've only been active in the fandom for like a few months.

But actually I do have a few! I was playing with the idea of expanding this into an actual fic at some point, but if you're curious I included the main points below the cut.

I like to hc that Jimmy's never actually been in a relationship or even kissed anyone before. I know his implied love interest in canon is Cindy (I don't recall if they actually get together in canon or if there was anyone else he showed interest in), but I always saw them more as rivals that end up begrudgingly becoming friends over the years. I also believe that Jimmy would know he's demi-sexual and homo-romantic from a very early age. It just never comes up in conversation because he simply shuts down any conversation about romance by saying he doesn't find the person his friends are talking about attractive (Cindy starts a betting pool with the others because she's picked up on the fact that Jimmy is basically gay but everyone else thinks he's ace).

While Jimmy's love life is rather drama-free for most of his adolescence and early teen years, Timmy on the other hand experiences the equivalent of seven different disney channel tween rom-com movies. He's caught up in the fantasy he's created of Trixie, and his affection will bounce between her and Cindy depending on which girl has shown more attention in the last few days. He'll often annoy Jimmy with his elaborate plans on how he intends to ask one of them out. Occasionally he'll also spend an entire afternoon on an inter-dimensional video call about how annoying Tootie has been lately and what her latest scheme had been to win Timmy's affection.

Jimmy meanwhile has realized he has feeling for Timmy, but locks them away because he believes Timmy is straight. He's honestly just content that Timmy reaches out to him as often as he does and that they're able to still spend time together. He also never points out that what Tootie is doing to Timmy is the exact same thing that Timmy is doing to Trixie and Cindy.

Right before they enter high school, Timmy will read the signals wrong and ask Cindy to go steady with him, but Cindy will politely turn him down and say she'd rather they just be friends. Completely crushed, he'll double down in his attempt to woo Trixie and pull out all the stops, putting on this extremely cringey and embarrassing performance to ask her to be his girlfriend (he got the idea from Cosmo). She'll just straight up laughs in his face and will stomp on his heart, leaving him to be the laughing stock of the school. When Tootie comes and tries to comfort him, Timmy will snap and yell at her, saying all sorts of hurtful things to her face and making her cry.

High school starts, and Timmy finds himself a complete social outcast. No one want to be associated with him after the stunt he pulled to ask out Trixie (even Chester and AJ don't want to spend time with him). Timmy then starts spending more time in Jimmy's universe, annoying Jimmy by randomly showing up inside his lab. Jimmy's annoyed at first, but realizes that Timmy's just lonely and lets him stick around. Timmy eventually makes himself at home (he sets up base in a small corner of the lab that is basically his area that Jimmy doesn't interfere with), and will say something to Jimmy along the lines of "I'm really glad you're apart of my life." Which just kills Jimmy a little bit because he knows that Timmy means it platonically.

After a few months of teen melodrama and some advice from Jimmy, Timmy will approach Tootie with the intent of apologizing to her. He finds her is eating alone in the lunch room at school and just spits out the apology point blank. It will take some time, but the two will reconcile and become friendly with each other, but Tootie will still harbor feelings for Timmy.

Meanwhile, for plot reasons, Remy will transfer to Timmy's school. Timmy expects that Remy is going to make his life hell, but a few weeks pass and Remy seems to actually be avoiding Timmy. It's messing with Timmy's head. He can't have his guard up the entire time at school, Remy was always more of a threat than Mr. Crocker ever was. So during one of the school's pep rally's, Timmy will pull Remy under the bleachers and confront him. Remy promises that he's done with trying to expose Cosmo and Wanda, and Timmy wants to know how he can trust Remy's words. Remy will then kiss him, confusing the hell out of Timmy. He says he has feeling for Timmy, and would never do anything that would hurt Timmy and ruin his chances. Timmy is hung up on the fact that they're both guys and Remy just kissed him??? So he says nothing and just walks away.

The next day he'll be sitting with Chester & AJ in class and tells them about it (they never apologized for ditching Timmy at the start of high school but he doesn't really have any other friends and they're forced to talk with him since they all sit next to each other). AJ asks if Timmy knows what homosexuality and bisexuality is, and Timmy has honestly never heard of those terms before. After all, his parents never let him watch TV or give him money to go out, and still force him to have a babysitter at his age. When AJ explains it all (he has graphs and examples of non-heterosexual relationships observed in other mammals) something just clicks for Timmy. When school is done with, he runs home (ignoring Remy and Tootie who are both planning to confess their feeling again) and poofs over to Jimmy's lab.

Jimmy's surprised to see him. But he's even more surprised when Timmy just grabs him by both shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss without another word. Jimmy's brain literally crashes (he wonders if he's having a stroke or some sort of stress-dream), and when Timmy pulls aways he's a blushing mess. Timmy will apologize and start rambling on about how he just found out that this was a possibility and that it makes sense. He always feels comfortable around Jimmy and once he realized two guys could be together, kissing Jimmy was the first thing that popped into his head. Timmy keeps talking for several minutes as Jimmy attempts to process everything, but Timmy will end up taking Jimmy's silence as a bad sign and try to leave. Jimmy's forced to grab Timmy's hand to make him stay and they then just sit in silence for several hours as Jimmy rearranges his thoughts (Timmy will eventually fall asleep on him as they just sit on the floor of the lab).

After that they start dating. Tootie and Remy have no idea until Jimmy shows up one day to pick up Timmy from school for a hang-out/date. Timmy is casually chatting with Tootie and Remy (as both of them continue to interrupt each others attempts to ask Timmy on a date), when Timmy suddenly breaks away from them and charges at a boy they'd never seen before (Jimmy) who just showed up at the school gate. Timmy tackle's Jimmy at top speed, nearly barreling him over as they hug and plants a big kiss on Jimmy's cheek. He waves goodbye to Tootie and Remy, who are just watching slack-jawed as Timmy walks away hand-in-hand with Jimmy. Tootie and Remy then form an alliance to take down Jimmy so they can go back to fighting for Timmy's affection.

[tickly-tufts]

Date Night

in which mj bullies miguel with thigh tickles cuz i have brainrot and wanted to treat myself

—

Unsurprisingly, it was Peter’s fault.

“I am… so sorry.”

Muffled through a palm that barely hid a grin, the apology was entirely unconvincing.

“Yeah, I can tell you’re just wracked with guilt,” Miguel deadpanned, feeling dead inside. He would’ve rubbed his temple if he’d been able, but neither arm was stuck close enough to his head. His next move might’ve been to use his claws, if he’d had the range of motion for it. Unfortunately, there was little one could do when they were half-encased in webbing.

It was the end result of a series of mishaps, comical for Peter, miserable for Miguel. In short, there’d been a Spiderman experimenting with new web fluid, high-strength to the point that it’d jammed their web-shooter. Much to everyone’s surprise, they’d turned to Peter B. Parker for help. Flattered, he’d promised to take a look at the web-shooter… then promptly misplaced it in Miguel’s lair.

And then, because the only thing worse than Parker luck was O’Hara luck, Miguel had been the one to find it.

On the floor.

By stepping on it.

“Wow, you’re super stuck on there, huh?” Peter tugged at the webbing on Miguel’s chest. It wrapped across his entire torso, too thick to simply pull apart. In contrast, Miguel’s lower body had nearly been spared, bearing only a handful of web clumps. Unfortunately, that still proved enough to bind his legs, trapping him in an odd lean against the wall.

“I can whip up a solvent in the lab, but it’ll take time,” Peter warned, getting serious. Then he exhaled ruefully. “Of course this happened on date night… MJ’s gonna be bummed.”

Honestly, Miguel was disappointed, too. He’d been looking forward to his evening with the Parkers. However, before he could consider admitting it, Peter suddenly brightened and lifted his watch.

“I just had the best idea.”

—

MJ had visited Nueva York before, but the portals were still a novelty to her. Stepping from her sunny living room into Miguel’s shaded sanctum resulted in some stumbling as her eyes adjusted.

“¡Cuidado!” Miguel hissed out in alarm when she nearly ran into a shelf. Quickly course-correcting, MJ followed his voice, eventually locating the correct corner.

“Oh, Migs,” she sighed when she saw him, reaching out to cradle his face. Instinctively, Miguel leaned forward, though he couldn’t actually get any closer.

“How much did Peter tell you?” Miguel asked while her thumb brushed soothingly against his cheek.

“Enough to know our dinner plans won’t be happening, but I can still keep you company while Peter fixes this mess.” MJ then paused, realizing something. “Is Lyla not with you? I thought she lived here.”

Miguel shrugged, or at least tried to. “She’s assigned to monitoring the multiverse tonight.” He scowled a bit. “I got her to call Peter, but that’s as far as she needs to be involved in this.”

MJ’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Because she’ll make fun of you?”

“…She already did.”

Miguel pouted, and unable to resist, MJ kissed him, nice and slow. “You poor thing,” she murmured when they parted, pleased to see him looking slightly dazed. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Miguel raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but what can you do while I’m webbed up like this?”

MJ looked down, and Miguel followed her gaze, realizing then that she stood between his legs. There was some space separating their bodies, but it couldn't have been more than an inch. “Depends on how much you can feel through the suit,” she practically purred, giving his left thigh a squeeze. MJ had meant for it to be flirtatious... only to jump when Miguel jolted violently.

“Miguel?!” she cried out in concern, then registered that he'd also made a sound. Not one of pain, nor pleasure like she'd aimed for, but- “Wait a second, are you…? Here?”

Miguel froze as MJ reassessed him, eyes roaming curiously across his legs. Hyperaware of where her thoughts were leading, he barely suppressed the urge to shiver. He did shiver when she grabbed herself a seat, scooting in right between his knees. Placing a hand on top of each thigh, she smiled up at him... then started kneading.

“SHOCK!” Miguel screeched before he crumbled, cackling without any restraint. Both MJ and Peter had tickled him before, but no one had gone for the thighs since… well, Xina. It was even worse than he remembered, and he'd remembered it being pretty embarrassing. His ex had never let him live it down, and evidently, it was back to haunt him.

“How did we not know about this?” MJ marveled, alternating between legs. She massaged upwards from his knees, which might’ve been relaxing for anyone else. Miguel writhed within the cluster of webbing, eyes squeezed shut as tightly as possible. They shot back open when MJ moved inwards, pinching along his inner thighs.

“¡Mierda!” escaped him more like a whine than a curse, as he flung his head back, giggling uncontrollably. MJ only did this for a minute before withdrawing in astonishment.

“So that’s all it takes to get the fangs out, huh?” She could not have been more delighted. “Aww, no, don’t be shy!” she protested when Miguel rushed to hide them. Thinking fast, she switched to scratching, honing in on the thickest part of his thighs. Miguel promptly lost his mind, fangs flashing openly as he wailed with mirth.

Scratching eventually eased into grazing, granting Miguel a break, though not enough to stop smiling. He allowed his fangs to peek out from his mouth, if only to garner more mercy from MJ.

“Such a cute smile,” MJ cooed, smirking when Miguel turned his head away, flustered. She and Peter had realized quite early on that direct praise worked wonders on him. Speaking of which- “Peter’s really missing out… We’ll definitely have to fill him in later.”

Miguel tried not to think too hard about all the things Peter might do with that knowledge.

As soon as Miguel was reasonably recovered, MJ resumed her exploration with the backs of his thighs. Miguel’s legs trembled as MJ’s fingers climbed them, but that wasn’t the part that got him giggling again.

“Oh my god.” MJ couldn’t stop grinning when she finally noticed where her hand had wandered. “Seriously? Your ass is ticklish? Peter is gonna love this so much.” She was very tempted to linger there herself, but Miguel's position just wasn't ideal for it. Sitting back, she examined him again, contemplating her other options.

“Will I regret asking what you’re thinking?” Miguel questioned cautiously.

MJ looked pensive, then mischievous.

“There's just one more thing I have to try.”

—

The solvent was done sooner than he’d expected. Future tech really never ceased to amaze. Peter swung his way back to Miguel’s lair in record time, fully prepared to announce himself, until-

“¡POR DIOS, ERES UNA SÁDICA!”

The exclamation made him rear back. It had obviously come from Miguel, but what the hell was making him sound like that?

Peter’s spider-sense wasn’t going off at all, but just to be safe, he crept forward in stealth mode. He nearly abandoned it to charge in when he heard what sounded like a sob. Experience kept him grounded, though. If something bad was happening, he needed the upper hand. Then he finally rounded the corner, and apprehension made way for awe.

He’d seen MJ tickle Miguel before, poking playfully at his sides, or even nibbling at his neck. Peter and MJ had both picked up on the fact he never genuinely tried to stop her. It was one of Peter’s favorite discoveries about Miguel, even if Miguel rarely made it that easy for him. With all that in mind, though, Peter still wasn’t ready to find MJ tickling Miguel to tears.

“Nonono- ¡No puedo más!” Miguel was babbling between hysterics. Meanwhile, Peter’s very lovely wife was digging into the crease of his thighs. The webs holding Miguel showed off their strength, hardly letting him thrash, much less escape. Miguel’s desperation only intensified as MJ’s fingers migrated inward.

Mary Jane could be a menace. Peter had known that for years. He was pretty sure that after this, Miguel would never forget it either. With MJ scribbling right between his thighs, he broke down within seconds.

“¡No más! Please! Stohohop, plehease!” Miguel begged breathlessly, hitting his limit.

And because MJ was mean but never cruel, she pulled back without any hesitation.

Peter waited another minute for Miguel to calm down, while MJ gently brushed tears from his eyes. He couldn’t make out whatever she was whispering, but he could guess from the way Miguel nuzzled her palm. “Hope I’m not ruining a tender moment,” Peter piped up then, revealing himself. All attention snapped to him, and in greeting, he pulled out the solvent.

“…How long were you watching?” Miguel asked once he'd been fully freed from the wall.

“Pretty sure I heard you call my wife a sadist,” Peter answered cheerfully.

Miguel flushed. MJ laughed. Peter was incredibly in love with them both.

He did wish he'd gotten a turn, though... Maybe they could pencil it in next date night.

[fetusgooseandjuice]

hii, can u do a Shuri x reader where the reader is in college and is getting verbally and physically abused by her parents due to her bad academics performance but she won’t tell Shuri because she has a country to worry about until Shuri eventually finds out because the reader won’t answer calls or texts? <33

Her Girl

Pairings: Shuri Udaku x Fem!Reader

Summary: The request!

Word Count: 4,606

Warnings: Physical & Verbal Abuse

Second Person POV:

"Hi, my love. How was it?" Shuri asked as you approached her. She was leaning against her car, waiting to pick you up from your college class.

You had walked to campus this morning since it was close to where you lived with your father, and you planned to just walk back home after class.

But Shuri texted you asking if she could pick you up once you finished taking the midterm so she could take you out for lunch, and then maybe spend some more time with you.

It took some convincing before you agreed, because you knew your dad probably wanted you home after testing.

However, Shuri kept saying that you deserved a reward. Saying that the way you overworked yourself wasn't good for you. So you decided to go with her to make her happy.

"It was okay. Just nervous for the results." you responded, letting her peck your lips before she smiled down at you.

"Between all the time you spent studying on your own, and the hours you put into those flash cards you made me read to you, I know you did just fine. You knew everything like the back of your hand." she tried to comfort the nerves you had.

You've never actually done bad on a test, or failed one per se. With the amount of pressure put on you by your father, there's no way you'd allow yourself to fail. But in his book, if you didn't get an A, then you failed.

Nothing more, nothing less.

So you're hard on yourself when it comes to your academics to avoid his "consequences" of failing.

"Yeah, I guess so." you forced out a light chuckle to not only convince her, but also yourself. "I also got my grade back for our last project a few days ago. The one I was doing when you stayed on the phone with me all night while I was working."

"Anddd how'd you do?" she asked.

You sighed, "I got a B. An eighty-five percent."

"Why do you look so glum? That's awesome, baby! I'm so proud of you!" she said with a big grin pulling you in for a hug.

"I don't know. I thought I would get higher than that." you said.

That wasn't a total lie. You did expect to get higher considering all of the work you put into it. But you mostly had that look on your face because you were worried about what your father would say when you finally told him. You wouldn't tell Shuri that, though.

"Well you still did really good." she looked at you with a small smile after you pulled away from the hug.

"Is there anything you're craving to eat, or do you just want to head over to your favorite spot?" she questioned, taking your bag from you and putting it in the backseat.

"That's fine. You know if you let me choose something else then you'll be waiting hours for my decision." you said and she laughed.

"Okay, princess, let's go then." she smiled, walking over to open the passenger side door for you.

~~~

When you got there, you ordered your food and it just arrived. You both thanked the waitress and started to eat, talking about whatever came to mind.

"So besides studying, what have you been up to at home? I feel like recently I've only gotten to talk to you when I help you study over at the palace, or when we're on the phone late at night. I haven't gotten to actually see you." she spoke, taking a bite of her food.

"I guess nothing much really. I really need to do good on these, so I was reviewing my notes a lot. I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you feel neglected or anything like that." you apologized to her.

That is true, but it's not the whole truth. Of course you wouldn't tell her about everything that's been going on at home.

You couldn't.

"No baby, that's okay I understand. I was just a little worried about you because I know how you get around testing week. You forget to eat, and then you hardly sleep. I just wanna make sure you're okay." she gently reassured you.

You gave her the small smile that she adored so much, "I'm okay." you answered and she nodded her head. "I wanna talk about you now." you said and she chuckled.

"How's that project with Riri going?" you asked.

"It's coming along slowly but surely. I think we're gonna put it on hold for a while so she can focus on her classes a little bit more." she replied.

You nodded understandingly, continuing to talk about her work and her projects over the meal you were sharing. You missed having moments like these with her.

You forgot how much she made you laugh and smile whenever you were with her because when important test came around, you tend to forget about everything but studying.

She was always so understanding and patient with you because she knew she could be the same way when it came to her science stuff. However, she couldn't help but feel curious as to why you were so hard on yourself.

You both knew how smart you were so there was no need for you to stress, yet you still did for some reason.

That's why she wanted to take you out today. Yes, she wanted to spend time with you, but she also wanted to reward you for all the hard work you've been doing over the past few weeks.

A little while later, the waitress came back to put the bill on the table. You grabbed it and went to look at it until Shuri spoke up.

"Darling, no. What're you doing?" she questioned with a frown, reaching over the table to try and take the bill from you, but you pulled your hand back.

"It's my turn to pay." You answered and started to get your wallet, but Shuri refused.

"No it's not. I brought you here, so I'm paying." she took her wallet out of her pocket and tried to grab the piece of paper from you, but you just held it further out of her reach.

"Stop," she whined, watching you look through your wallet. "Baby, I'm serious. You're not paying."

"Please? I want to.” you said with a pout on your face.

"Baby, no. I'm actually gonna be upset if you pay, seriously stop." she spoke in a stern, but gentle voice.

"Fine." you finally let her take the paper out of your hand. She pulled her card out and handed it to the waitress along with the bill when she came back.

When she looked over at you, you were sulking which made her smile, “I love you, princess."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "I love you too."

After the waitress returned with her card, you both left the restaurant and got in her car.

"I was thinking we could go back to the palace and maybe watch a movie or something. It doesn't really matter to me, I just want to spend more time with you." she suggested, starting the car.

You sighed, "Shuri, my dad is still probably waiting for me. I told him I'd be home right after I was done testing."

"Y/N, you're an adult. You can make your own choices, and I'm sure he won't mind. We can just lay around for a few hours, and then I'll bring you home. Please?" she pleaded.

You looked hesitant to answer, so she continued to try and convince you.

"My mother has been asking about you nonstop too, so she'll finally leave me alone." she chuckled, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

You wanted nothing more than to go with her, but you knew your dad would be upset at you for getting home later than he wanted, and you'd be in even more trouble considering the grade you got on your project.

You couldn't avoid him for forever, so you thought it'd be better to just get it over with now rather than later.

You looked away from her gaze, "I can't." you said, and you could see the way her face visibly saddened.

"I'll make it up to you, but I'm just really tired." you added, trying to make up an excuse so that you didn't hurt her feelings.

She nodded her head, starting to drive off, "That's alright, I understand. We all need a little extra rest sometimes, right?" she spoke, wanting you to know that it was okay even though she was a little disappointed.

You hummed a small agreement, "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, darling. It's okay." she responded, reaching over to rest her hand on your thigh in a reassuring manner.

When you got to your house, she pulled up in front of it and put the car in park, "Can we call later?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll call you after I take a short nap." you answered, opening the door to get out.

"Okay, I love you." she said with a small smile.

"I love you too." you repeated, closing the car door. She made sure you got inside the house before driving off.

You walked through the door and your eyes had to adjust to the darkness. The only light being whatever sunlight peaked out from behind the curtains, and the glow illuminating from the television in the living room.

You assumed that's where your dad was, but you didn't get the chance to check because when he heard the front door open and close, he popped up from the couch.

When he saw you standing there, he quickly walked to you, slapping you across the cheek hard when you were within arms reach. The force of the slap turned your head to the side. It all happened so fast, it caught you off guard.

He grabbed a paper off of the counter and held it up, "What the hell is this." he questioned harshly.

When you didn't look up, he just became more aggressive, "Answer me dammit!" he raised his voice.

You flinched and lifted your head, trying to get a good look at the paper. Your eyes flashed with anxiety when you realized it was the grade you had gotten for your last project. The one you got an eight-five percent on. The one you got a B on, and not an A.

"I-It was my grade f-for my last project." you quickly stuttered out.

He lightly chuckled, turning away from you. You knew he wasn't laughing because he thought this was funny, it was something he did that told you he was furious.

"What in your right mind made you think that it was acceptable to bring that home." he spoke, facing you once again

"I-I don't know, I'm sorry. I tried, I really did." you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut when he back you into the wall.

"That's all you have to say? You tried? What, is that gonna be your excuse for now on?! There are no excuses in this household, there is only discipline because you clearly aren’t understanding!" he continued to shout in your face.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and you brought your hands up to cover your face, a measly attempt to hide from him.

But he harshly gripped your wrists, prying your hands away from your face despite your resistance,"Look at me when I'm speaking you!"

"Stop it, you're hurting me!" you cried out over the cruel words that continued to spill from his mouth.

"Losing is a habit, and habits must me fixed." he said before slapping you once again, "Do you think I spent all of this money on you your whole life to see grades like these?!"

When he was finally done yelling at you after what felt like hours, he let go of your wrists and threw the paper at your face, "Where the hell have you been? Why are you just now getting home?" he asked in a strict voice.

"I-I was out w-with Shuri. We went to get lunch because we haven't spent much time together these last few weeks." you quickly answered.

Shuri met your father the first time she drove you home at the beginning of your relationship. You caught him on a good day, so she got to meet the kind, father-like side of him.

But he's gotten worse since then, and there are no good days for him anymore. So that was the first, and last time you'd ever let them meet. You don't want her to have to worry about you.

"Shuri? Well if you think you can just go out and do whatever you want now all of a sudden, then that midterm score better be absolutely flawless. Do you understand?" he pointed his finger at you to emphasize his words.

You nodded your head, but it obviously wasn't good enough for him because he marched over to you and backhanded the same side of your face he had hit multiple times earlier, "I said do you understand?" he spoke quietly, but sternly into your ear.

"Yes, sir." you mumbled, keeping your head down.

He walked away from you, muttering stuff under his breath. You stood there for a few seconds trying to process everything that just happened before picking the paper up off the floor, and making your way to your bedroom.

You set your stuff down, and moved to stand in front of the mirror hung on the closet door. You turned your head to the side, brushing your fingers across the bruise that was starting to form on your cheek.

You sighed, knowing that you were going to have to cover that up the next time you went out. You kicked your shoes off before climbing into bed, silently crying yourself to sleep.

~~~

Shuri's POV:

I arrived back at the palace, parking the car and making my way inside, "Hey, mom." I said when I ran into my mother on the way to my lab.

"Hello, Shuri. Where's Y/N? I thought you said you were gonna bring her back with you." she questioned, noticing that my girlfriend wasn't by my side.

"She was tired, so I just took her home. She said she'll call me later so I'll let you talk then if you want." I answered.

"No, that's alright I don't want to take away from your time with her. I know you haven't gotten to see her much lately, so i'm okay with waiting until she visits again." she responded.

"Thanks." I spoke with a forced smile.

She must've noticed because she tilted her head to the side, "What's the matter?" she asked with a slight frown on her face.

I shook my head, "Nothing. I was just gonna go work on that project for a while." I replied, continuing my walk to the lab.

Whenever I need alone time to just think, I'll work in the lab. Most of the time, I'm thinking about things I need to do and responsibilities I have to take care of, but this time I'm thinking about Y/N.

She's so hard on herself, but she's way too smart to have to worry about her grades this much. Not to mention how she was basically avoiding spending time with me, her girlfriend. She might've actually been tired, but she's already been very distant lately since she was stressed about her classes.

I didn't really know what to think. I love her so, so much, but I just wished she would talk to me about stuff more often. I want to be able to help her whether it's getting her out of the house, or just being with her.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a voice, "Hellooo? Earth to Shuri." I recognized it as Riri's voice.

Turning my head, I saw her standing in the doorway, "Oh, hey. Sorry, I was just concentrating." I apologized for not noticing her presence sooner.

"Concentrating on what?" she questioned, approaching me to look at what I was doing.

"Just that one part of the project I didn't finish earlier." I answered and she nodded her head.

She stood there silent for a few seconds, reading my facial expressions before speaking, "You look like you have something else on your mind besides your work. Has something happened?"

I raised an eyebrow, but still kept my focus on what I was doing, "Did my mother send you?"

She sighed, nodding her head as she moved to lean on the table, "Yeah, she did. And now I can see why. Looks like whatever happened with Y/N was...bad?" she said, trying to gain knowledge of the situation.

I huffed, "No, it wasn't bad. I just feel like she's been distant. I understand how she was busy with studying during test week, but that's over now, and we still can't spend time together. First, she said her father wanted her home, and then she said she was tired." I took a deep breath, and Riri just listened.

"I don't know. Maybe she's getting tired of me?" I voiced, setting down the tool I was working with.

"Woah, okay now, let's not jump to conclusions like that quite yet. Have you talked to her about it?" she questioned.

"Not really. Whenever I try to talk about what's going on in her life and things like that, she changes the subject." I walked around the room, clicking on different screens as I spoke.

"Okay, well maybe start with that. There must be a reason for her doing that, so talk to her. That might be what she needs too. Someone to talk to." Riri suggested.

I stopped working for the first time during this whole conversation, "You're right."

She chuckled, "I always am, aren't I?"

"That's debatable." I playfully rolled my eyes, "We're supposed to call later, so I guess I'll ask her about it then."

"Tell me how it goes? I know you guys will be fine, though." she reassured me.

I gave her a small smile, "I will, thanks." I said before she walked out of the lab, leaving me to continue my work.

~~~

I've been waiting for Y/N to call me for hours now. It was almost 9:00pm, and I listened to my phone ring one last time before it went to her voicemail for the fifth time. I was worried, but tried to think of some of the possibilities, like she's just taking a really long nap, or maybe her phone died.

But as it got later and later without hearing from her, I decided to just go check on her to make sure she was okay. Even when she's busy, she was always good with answering her phone, so that's why I was concerned.

I got in my car and drove over to her house. When I parked, I noticed that there wasn't a single light on which wasn't I guess wasn't unusual considering how late at night it was. But I still wanted to make sure Y/N was okay before I could settle down for the night.

I walked up the front steps and knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. When almost a minute passed with no answer, I knocked again. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing Y/N.

When she saw me, a look of panic flashed over her face, "Shuri? It's almost ten o'clock, what're you doing here?" she spoke in a hushed voice.

"I was coming by to check on you because you never called." I explained, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Um yeah, about- about that. My- my phone died earlier, and my charger wasn't working..." she stammered out in the same quiet volume.

"Oh, that's fine. I was just worried about you because you never answered any of my calls or texts. Why are you whispering? Are you okay?" I asked with furrowed eyebrows, faintly noticing something on the side of her face.

But it was already difficult enough to see anything considering how dark it was outside, so I just brushed it off.

"Yeah I'm- I'm fine. My dad is already asleep, and I was about to just do some extra credit work because I couldn't sleep. Probably wasn't the best idea to take that nap earlier." she answered with a light chuckle.

I nodded my head in understanding, "Well if you can't sleep, do you wanna go back to the palace with me? You can spend the night, of course."

She turned to look behind her as if she was checking for something, and then looked back at me, "I don't know, Shuri. It's pretty late." she said, hesitation very present in her voice.

"Come on, baby. Please? I miss having you in my arms." I begged and she sighed, "This can be your way of making it up to me for earlier." I added.

She stood there for a moment responding, "Okay, just wait here for a second. I'm gonna go grab some things real quick." she said and I smiled brightly, nodding my head before she disappeared back inside.

Second Person POV:

You quietly made your way back to your room so that you didn't wake up your father, and packed a small bag of things you'd need for tomorrow.

When you went back outside where Shuri was still waiting, you got in the car with her and she started the drive back to the palace. But what you didn't realize was that you forgot to cover the visible bruise on your face.

Being so mentally tired, it had slipped your mind. You had gotten lucky earlier because the darkness outside affected her ability to see. But that luck obviously wouldn't last for much longer.

After arriving at the palace, Shuri led the way to her room and turned on the light. You set down your bag and started taking off your shoes when she began to speak.

"Do you wanna stay up and watch a movie or are you starting to feel tired-" she cut herself off in shock when you lifted your head to look at her.

Now that she finally got a good look at you, she saw the bruise on your cheek, "Oh my god, baby, what happened?!" she hurried over to you.

"Hm? What do you mean?" you asked, confused. But you realized what she was talking about when her hands gently cupped your cheek, looking at the side of your face.

"Shit." You thought.

You weren't planning on going anywhere tonight, so you had forgotten about the mark. However, it was too late now.

"Did someone do this to you?" she questioned, shifting her gaze to look you in the eyes.

You quickly responded, "No- no one did this to me. I- I just...fell." you mentally face palmed at the poor excuse you came up with.

She knew you were lying from the nervous look in your eyes, and the way you were stuttering.

"Princess, don't lie to me. Please, just tell me the truth so I can help you." she spoke softly, stroking her thumb under the injury.

Help you. You didn't want her to have to help you. She has more important things to worry about than a girl with daddy issues because of her academic performance.

But she thought the exact opposite.

There was not a single concern running through her mind at the moment that wasn't you, because you were the most important thing to her. You were her girl.

During the time you spent thinking about your next words with her eyes staring into yours, tears started slowly rolling down your face.

You shook your head, "You can't help me." you whispered.

"Why not?" she asked desperately. "Talk to me, my love."

You moved your gaze to look at anything but her, "It's just the way he is. As long as I'm in school, and probably even after I graduate, he'll always be like this."

"Who? Who is he?" her eyebrows furrowed.

You looked back into her eyes, and the look that was held in them said everything that she needed to know, "Your dad?" she said shock, and you nodded.

"Your dad did this to you?" she repeated.

You nodded once again, "He's made it seem like he's only proud of kids who bring home A's on every test. The second I bring home anything less, he flips out." you quietly confessed.

Her jaw clenched at your words, "I don't care who he is, no one puts their hands on you. Your own father especially. I swear I'm gonna-" she began, starting to pull away from you but you stopped her.

"No," you said, and she turned to look down at you, "Please don't go." you whimpered out and her gaze softened while her heart broke seeing you this vulnerable.

"Okay. Okay, I won't go. I'm here, darling." she said, gently pulling you into a tight embrace.

She held you for a few minutes before remembering the injury you had, "We should get some ice for that bruise on your face." she suggested, but you shook your head against her chest.

"Tomorrow. I just want you to hold me right now." you said and she complied.

"Let's lay down then, yeah? That's probably gonna be more comfortable than standing." she voiced, and you let her guide you to her bed.

She laid down and allowed you to curl up to her however you wished. Her arm immediately wrapped securely around you while your head rested on her chest.

You sat in comfortable silent for a few minutes until she spoke up, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

You were so quiet that anyone would've thought you had fallen asleep if you didn't respond a few seconds later, "I didn't want you to worry. You have an entire country to take care of, so I tried to just deal with it myself." you explained.

"Love, you can always come to me no matter what. I don't care if I have a million priorities to keep up, you'll always be my number one. I don't want you to ever think that you have to go through anything alone." she responded, rubbing her hand up and down your back in a comforting manner.

You sighed, "I guess I was just scared. Scared of bothering you, and of what he might do if he found out that I told someone."

"Well you don't ever have to go back there. I can stop by and pick up your stuff whenever he's not home, and you can stay here with me." she spoke and you looked up at her.

"Really?" you said.

She nodded her head, "Of course, princess. And I bet my mother will be thrilled to hear that you're staying. I think she loves you more than she loves me." she chuckled, and you giggled.

Her heart fluttered at the sound of your laugh. It never failed to make her heart soar.

"I love you, Shuri." you said with a content sigh, letting your eyes fall shut.

"I love you too, beautiful." She looked down at you with adoring eyes. "Griot, turn the lights off." she told the A.I, and he did as asked.

She lightly scratched you back, watching you relax in her arms and drift off before falling asleep herself.

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You explain everything to the guys and have some bad news in the end

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism, mention of experiments, lady with an axe, needles, missing people, some creepy stuff I WARNED YOU -> 18+ !!

Other: English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for eventual mistakes. Also I wrote this with like two hours of sleep so yk

-> Masterlist

-> Part five ; Part seven

-> The Wendigo Project (06)

You were in Mrs White’s office, lounging on her luxurious leather couch. The soft hum of the air conditioning filled the room as you unwrapped a candy she had given you just before she started shouting angrily into the phone. You had witnessed many of her outbursts before, mainly towards her employees, so her current anger didn’t surprise you. She usually kept you out of earshot during these episodes, but for some reason she didn’t ask you to leave that time.

You didn’t mind, as her couch was more comfortable than your bed and her office widow provided a view of the woods outside. So you were simply chilling as she was red in anger.

“You’re an idiot, Mike! That was the only - no, don’t blame this on me! Do you know how hard it is to find one? That was our only subject and you killed it!” She kept shouting, piquing your curiosity this time.

“I don’t care! How can we continue working if we’re empty handed?! I don’t care if we have one last sample, our main resource of blood is dead! ” Her yelling continued, and you sat up straight as she started to smash things around. “What?! Don’t you even dare suggesting it.”

Then, she glanced at you. “No.” She said, after debating something in silence. “She’s needed alive - you know why.”

You frowned. Was she talking about you?

“I don’t care. She’s- Michael.” That sounded like a warning. “Everything’s going to shit here, if she dies we lose our only- how can you be sure? I know what she is, don’t forget I was the one who gave b- yes, but I don’t think she can take it. If she turns, I’ll lose my only tie to him and I can’t risk it.”

She sighed, sinking down on her chair behind her desk - her eyes flickered to you once again. “If she dies, I’ll destroy everything you hold dear, which is yourself.” She said, letting out a defeated sigh. She agreed.

She hung up the phone, throwing the object on the desk in front of her. You two stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity, as you knew better than to talk to her whenever she was having these moments. But she spoke first.

“Kid?” She glanced over at you.

“Yeah?”

“You have a mission. The most important one, and I need you to survive. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do anything.”

You vaguely remember exactly what happened next, but you knew it messed you up completely.

Mrs White had a worried expression on as her scientists secured you to the bed, with countless needles piercing your skin. The pain was deadly, unlike anything you had ever experienced before. But you could take it, you had to. It was for the greater good.

You fell finally unconscious after a while, still unsure to this day if it was due to the horrible pain or if they gave you something. When you finally awoke, your senses were intensified - every sound, every smell, every sensation was amplified making you feel lost and disorientated.

Not to talk about the headache, but it was all worth it. As soon as you saw Mrs White’s proud smile, you decided then you’d do it all over again. Praises came from left and right, you were being treated better than before and you finally, finally made it to a higher level. You were finally allowed out of the facility, actively fighting on the field.

You had new super strength and stamina, able to lift weights that you couldn’t before. The only human who survived to the “Wendigo Project” without turning into a monster but still having the creature’s abilities. Super strength was one of those, but the one Mrs White was the most proud about was the fact that using your blood, they were able to create more things like you.

None of them turned out like you though, each one of those subjects turned into a tall, pale monster with sharp teeth with an unnatural hunger for human meat.

However, that stopped being a problem the second they found out you were able to control them. In that second, Hydra had their most lethal weapon. Wendigos can’t die easily, and they can live for hundreds of years with minimal care. They’re strong, incredible hunters during the day and unmatchable during the night - that’s what Hydra wanted and they got it because of you.

≈

Dean, Sam and Bucky were looking at you in silence as you finished explaining yourself, and you’d lie if you said you weren’t scared of their judgment. You had purposely avoided this topic because you knew that people would look at you differently, and how could they not?

Not only you had the blood of a pureblood monster, but you helped them creating new ones. You were the reason why so many people were torn away from their lives - it was all because of you. Even the monster downstairs, whether it was Cassandra or not, was one because of you.

“So… the reason why they won’t attack you is because you have their blood?” Sam blinked a few times, and you could see he was looking at you differently now, as if you were a time bomb.

“I guess.” You shrugged.

“Why can you control them?” Sam frowned. “How do you do it?”

“I don’t know, Sam.” You said, sighing heavily. Unfortunately a lot of questions were still unanswered. “I just… do. It comes naturally.”

“You look good for being one.” Dean said, gaining a glare from the other two men. “What? It’s true. I’m not blind.”

“This makes no fucking sense.” Bucky spoke after a moment. “Why you? Why didn’t you turn into… that.”

You shrugged. “If I knew I would have told you.” You said. “But unfortunately no one ever told me in the first place. I’m as clueless as you are.”

“But the Wendigo only eat human meat. Did you… eat it? Ever? Do you feel the need to?” Sam asked, cautiously scanning your face almost as if he was trying to find some similarities to the monster downstairs. His usual softness was replaced by a look of mistrust, and you saw his hand on the holster on his belt, probably holding a knife.

Useless anyway, and he knew it.

“No, to both of your questions. God, just the thought of it makes me sick.” You scoffed.

Bucky followed your gaze, noticing his hand placement too. “If you make any sudden movement I’ll snap your neck.” His voice was incredibly low - and hot. He was hot, and if it wasn’t for his hatred towards you, you would have shot your shot already. Anyways.

“Let’s all just take a step back, alright?” Dean interjected, getting slightly between Sam and Bucky. “Sam.” He warned. “The knife.”

Sam’s gaze darted between you and Dean, uncertain, as he eventually raised his hand, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. “I’m sorry. It’s just… we’re used to kill things like you.”

“Speaking of which…” You begun, curious to finally find out who you have been dealing with for the last few days. “Who are you two?”

“We’re hunters.” Dean replied matter-of-factly, with a proud little grin on his face.

Bucky’s brows knitted together in confusion, mirroring your own. “Why would Fury send two hunters to help us? We’re not dealing with animals here.” Bucky said.

“We don’t kill animals.” Sam clarified. “We hunt supernatural creatures. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, demons… anything you can think of.”

You raised a brow, and as you were about to question him further you were interrupted by Bucky’s laugh. The three of you looked at him taken aback - not once you had heard that sound coming from him in the year you had worked together.

“What? You don’t believe us?” Dean asked, a hint of offense in his voice.

Bucky’s laugh died down, replaced by a wry smile. “We play chess with an alien tree, of course I believe you.” He remarked dryly - that wasn’t really a happy laugh, now that you heard his next words. “Oh my god. All I’ve ever wanted was come back home from the war and live my life, now I’m stuck in an attic with two ghostbusters and a cannibal when downstairs a lady with an axe is dismembering someone. Life is fucking crazy.”

“Hey, I’m not a cannibal!” You protested with a scowl. “How do you know the ghostbusters?”

“Parker.” Bucky scoffed.

“Really? I thought you didn’t like the kid.”

“I don’t like anyone.”

“Fair.”

You all fell silent as soon as you started to hear someone, Mrs fucking Miller, dragging a heavy weight across the floor downstairs.

“We need to leave.” You said. “We need to get home and try to make some light out of all of this.”

* * * *

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” Dean looked at you from the mirror of his car, making you roll your eyes.

“If you ask that one more time I’ll bite your neck.” You playfully remarked, sinking down on your seat.

Escaping the house without a scratch had been a stroke of luck, especially considering Bucky’s suggestion to jump out of the first window you came across - a plan to which surprisingly everyone agreed to. You and Bucky were fine, obviously, but for a second you got worried about the brothers’s sanity since they didn’t have super abilities like you and the Soldier.

As you drove away in Dean’s beloved car, leaving that house behind you for what you hoped was the last time, exhaustion fell over you once again. After all, it had been a long day for all of you.

Not even Dean’s driving was as reckless as usual, which only confirmed your words since the man drove thinking he had six lives. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He joked, catching your eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Cut it.” Bucky muttered, his irritation quite evident.

“Jealous?” Dean teased, only to gain a deadly glare from Bucky. “Don’t worry man, I have my eyes on someone else.”

“Who gives a fuck. Just shut it.” Bucky grumbled, getting more comfortable in his seat and closing his eyes. At the view, you were embarrassed to admit that you almost couldn’t look away - he looked angelic, at peace, and for some reason that made your heart flutter.

You needed to have a fucking grip on yourself and remember who he was. For God’s sake.

“You okay, Sam?” You then asked, noticing how his leg was bouncing up and down. He sat in the passenger’s seat, lost in his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the scenery outside of the window. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was still processing what you had confessed earlier, considering his job was to literally hunt your kind and other things.

“I can’t stop thinking about this situation.” Sam sighed, concerned. “There are a hundred things I don’t understand. Like… how can a woman like that keep a Wendigo locked in a room as if it was just a wild animal? She’s not mentally stable enough to do that, and that thing should have ripped her apart in seconds - instead, Mrs Miller feeds that. I saw - I saw her dismembering someone when me and Dean broke into her house, how can she do that? She may be crazy, but not strong enough to kill someone and drag the body around like it weighs nothing. Maybe she has someone doing the dirty work for her.”

“She may. Also, why didn’t it eat her? Not only did the thing not rip her apart, but it keeps not doing that.” Bucky inquired. “Did she domesticated it or something?”

“I was wondering that, too.” Dean sighed, stopping the car momentarily at a red light. “The Wendigo works alone, and they prefer alive preys. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“We’ll figure something out tomorrow, with a clear head.” You said. “But I do have a question for you two: how did Fury find you? I didn’t know he knew about all of this.”

“Oh, he knows everything about it.” Dean confessed, leaving you both you and Bucky perplexed. “What? You’re telling me you find that weird? Or did you really think Fury and his team only dealt with aliens and Hydra?” He chuckled. “The man has connections everywhere, even with hunters. The Avengers think about global threats, we think about local threats.”

“But… how? He never told me that.” You looked at Bucky. “Did you know?”

“No.” He answered, and he seemed honest.

“How do you think Fury found you when you were with Hydra?” Sam asked you.

“I figured he… found some leads that led to my facility?” You answered, uncertain.

“It wasn’t Fury who found you.” Dean corrected you. “It was my father. He was following the steps of a Wendigo, a female, when he found out the place you were being kept at. He proceeded to tell Fury… and here you are.”

“I feel my brain burning.” You rubbed your eyes, trying to process everything - but your mind just didn’t want to work anymore. “I’ll have a talk with Fury as soon as I can, when this is over. For now, I just want to find out where Adam Barlow lives so maybe he can tell us something more about Cassandra. This situation is getting weirder by the second.”

But you should have known better than to harbor hopes.

“What the f- hello!” Dean smiled, rolling down the window as a police officer signaled for him to slow down.

“Hello.” The police officer replied, holding up a picture of a man you had never seen before - not that you could see much from the backseat. “Have you seen this man?”

“No, sir.” Dean shook his head. “Why?”

“This is Adam Barlow and he’s been reported missing. If you have any news, please let us know.”

…

That had to be a joke.

[anarcoqueer1994]

TW: transphobia:(

But it has a fluffy Steddie ending.

After Spring break, after Vecna was defeated, after Max and Eddie lived, after everything had finally settled down, she finally felt comfortable to come out. Stevie, despite being terrified that it could change everything, told her friends she was a girl, and to her delight, every single one of them was loving and supportive. And they supported her as she started to present more femininely in public, starting off with a little make up, but eventually working her way up to dressing more how she felt, even daring to wear pretty little dresses, and growing her hair out. And of course people were mean to her. It was 1980s small town Indiana, after all.

But she had her friends, people who loved her. She and Robin got a place together after her parents kicked her out, disowned her. Anyone of her friends, including the teens still in high school, were ready to pounce on anyone who had anything shitty to say. There was a particularly brutal time when Erica told off some mom who dared to insinuate that Stevie, because of who she was, was dangerous, perverted.

And Stevie's own mean girl streak came back in full force, when needed. She wasn't above bitching out some asshole who deserved it.

During this time, other things changed too. Eddie, who she had saved, carried out of the Upside-Down, stayed by his hospital bed for weeks, became one of her closest friends. They spent so much time together, Stevie loving how comfortable Eddie made her feel. Little does she know, Eddie, had fallen head over heels for her.

Unfortunately for him, Stevie was with someone else; Tommy. After she had come out, she had run into him. She had been wearing light, pretty makeup, and a soft pink skirt that Nancy had given her. She had been ready for a fight, ready for Tommy to insult her, berate her, but he didn't. Instead, he apologized for everything. He apologized for high school, for not being a better friend, and asked if they could maybe try again.

And Stevie knew what it felt like to want to change, to want another chance, so maybe against her better judgment, she gave him a chance. And for a while, things seemed better. After a few months, Tommy even confessed his feeling for her, told her she was beautiful, asked her out, and she said yes. They went to a basketball game that night, and had the time of their life.

But it's been a year, and their relationship isn't perfect. It's hard and they have to work at it but Stevie was always willing to give Tommy another chance. To her friends though, they watched on as Tommy repeatively would slip into his old ways, and how he wasn't always the nicest to her. But she kept taking him back, and they didn't know why. Unbeknownst to them, though, she was desperate for someone to love her romantically and with how mean people could be to a transwoman, she convinced herself, this was her only chance.

That all changed one night. Eddie was at home, alone in the trailer, as Wayne was at work. It was raining hard, and thunder continuously shook the trailer. He had been watching some b-rated horror film, when a pound at the door nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. He wasn't expecting anyone.

He cautiously heads to the door and opens it, only to find Stevie standing in the rain, makeup running, and looking like she was about to break. Without thinking, he throws his arms around her, pulling her in close. She instinctively buries her head in the crook of his neck. He feels silent tears against his skin.

He pet her hair softly, wanting to know what has made his usually strong friend crumble. He had seen Stevie tear monsters in half, heard stories about how she endured the torment of the Russians, hell, she deals with terrible, mean people every day. And yet, here she is looking so hurt in his arms.

After a minute, Eddie pulls away slightly. "Hey, let's get you inside, princess. You're going to get sick." Eddie says gently, the pet name came out without a second thought.

This seems to snap Stevie out of it, pulling away. "Oh my God, Eds. I am so sorry, I don't know why I came here." Guilt starts to creep in over burdening Eddie with her problems. "I...um, I'm just going to go home." She starts to back down the steps. But she doesn't get far before Eddie has gently grabbed her wrist.

"No, Stevie. Come in, please?" Eddie gently implores, knowing how she keeps things bottled up, how she is always there for his problems, everyone's problems.

She wants to say no, but she is helpless against Eddie’s requests. She ignores the feeling in the back of her head that secretly wants more from Eddie, focuses on how good of a friend he is instead. She timidly nods her head, following Eddie in.

She stands shivering in the doorway, not wanting to sit down and get the furniture wet. She is drenched from standing in the rain. Eddie wonders how long she has been standing there before working up the courage to knock.

She doesn't say anything as Eddie walks to his bedroom, bringing back dry clothes a moment later. Luckily, he has the soft, pretty yellow cardigan she left here last time they smoked together. It is distinctly feminine, knowing that sometimes, when Stevie wears more traditionally masculine items, she gets in her own head and experiences a disconnect. Robin explained it as dysphoria once. The pretty sweater softens the plain oversized Metallica T-shirt and sweat pants he hands her. She shyly takes the clothing to the bathroom, where she changes, coming out minutes later.

When she does, Eddie is waiting on the couch. "Thanks." She says uncharacteristically soft, as she takes a seat next to Eddie on the couch.

"No problem." He tries to stay calm, trying not to get mad at whatever caused his favorite girl...his favorite person, to get so upset.

He twists his body, so they are both looking at each other. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Stevie looks away, embarrassment covering her face. "It's dumb."

"Stevie, I bet it's not. Whatever made you look like that couldn't be dumb." Eddie reassures.

"It's...um Tommy." She starts, and immediately Eddie sees red. He has watched as Tommy continuously let her down. But he has never seen it be this bad. He tries to not lose it.

"What did that piece of shit do?" He spits despite his best efforts.

"Eds..." She says gently.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just don't like how he treats you."

"I, um, agree, actually. I don't like how he treats me either. I think it's really over this time." She says, voice trying to sound confident but wavering anyway.

Eddie is not sure if he believes that. Tommy has hurt her before, and she has taken him back. But he does not let his doubt show on his face. "What happened?"

~~

She thought it was going to be a good day. Tommy had taken them to a Hoosier's game, one of Stevie's favorite teams. It was supposed to be fun. But when they got there, Tommy kept his distance. He barely talked to her, touched her, really did anything to indicate he knew her, let alone that they were dating. It made her feel terrible the entire game.

This was compounded by the fact that quite a few people around them made comments about her. She wasn't cis passing, not having the money to do anything medical, and not really wanting to yet. And she was fine with that. She still had felt beautiful today when she had pulled her hair up in a pink scrunchie and donned a floral crop top and jean shorts that Robin and Eddie had bought for her. She had pretty soft eyeshadow and a pink lip gloss, and was wearing the pair of purple earings Nancy gave her. But people around them, weren't so nice, made jokes and hateful remarks, calling her a tranny or faggot. And she was sadly used to this, knew how to bite back with bitchy words, but it hurt that Tommy didn't say anything, just pretended he did not know her. To top it off, a pretty blonde girl sitting nearby was flirting with him the entire game, and he didn't stop it, actually flirted back as Stevie watched.

After the game, in the car ride home, Stevie sat quietly stewing in her own anger and hurt until Tommy put his hand on her thigh and she pushed him away.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" He asks dumbly.

"Are you kidding me?" She snaps.

"What?" He feigns ignorance.

"You literally pretended like I did not exist the entire game! All those assholes were insulting me and you pretended you didn't know me! You were too busy flirting with that other girl! You wouldn’t even hold my hand and but you were all over her.

"Oh, come on, baby." He pleads as he drives. "You know what kind of attention you draw to yourself. Why don't you just wear your old clothes when we go out? People would just think we are just two guys hanging out."

The words cut deep, but Stevie tries not to show it, keeps up her best bitch face. "But we aren't two guys...I'm your girlfriend. And you said you liked my outfits."

"I do like your little outfits, you know I think you look sexy. But maybe they should just be between us, for when we are alone and can have some fun. " He tries to say smoothly.

Stevie's heart drops, she can't hide the agony, the pain in her voice. "Wait...is that all I am to you? The way I dress and look is just some weird fetish? Just for you to get off on?"

"It's not like that!" Tommy says defensively. "It just in public, it's embarrassing when you wear girls' clothes because it's not like you're a real..." He stops short, realizing what just came out of his mouth.

Stevie closes her eyes, trying to will away the tears that she felt coming on but it is useless. "Not a real what, Tommy?" She chokes out.

"That's not what I meant!" Tommy puts his hand up as he comes to a stop light now back in Hawkins.

"Come on just say what we both know you're thinking! Not a real woman!" Stevie is shouting now through her tears. The weather outside getting worse, rain starting to fall.

"Stevie, I didn’t mean it..." He says pathetically.

Stevie looks down, shakes her head. In a defeated voice, she whispers. "Yes, you did." Without a second thought she gets out his car, running in the rain away from him. She kept running until she was Eddie’s doorstep. Tommy didn't bother to go after her.

~~

Stevie finds herself in tears again as she finishes recounting what happened. Eddie is practically shaking, angry over what Tommy did to this beautiful, wonderful human being overtaking him.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" Eddie spits.

Suddenly, Stevie grabs his hand, holding it in her lap. "No, Eds. He isn't worth it, okay?"

He meets her eyes, his face softening when he sees all the pain dancing in her brown eyes, replacing the sparkle that usually takes refuge there. "Oh Stevie..." He says her name so reverently, like a prayer almost. He places his free hand on her cheek, she leaning into it. "You know what he said, isn't true, right?"

"I...I know." She lets out a sad sigh. "I just thought he was one of the people who actually saw me for who I really am, I thought he accepted me. For fuck sakes, we've been friends since we were 12. But I'm an idiot who was so desperate for someone to love me that I let him use me. And I am so fucking stupid to think someone would actually want to be with someone like me..."

Eddie’s feels a pang in his heart, hating to see how small Tommy made Stevie feel. He would never make her feel less than, make her feel small. "I don’t think you're stupid. Please don't say that..." He whispers, hand still resting against her face.

"Eddie..." That voice in the back of her head that always has wanted more, the voice she tries to ignore because she wasn't single and Eddie couldn't possibly feel the same way, is trying to push through.

"Stevie, can I ask you something?" His voice is gentle.

"Yea, anything."

"Why did you come here? Why didn’t you go home, crawl in Robin's bed and cry together?" Eddie feels invasive asking but the words already left his mouth.

Stevie pulls away, looking anywhere but at Eddie, a blush showing through her tear stained face. "I...I don't know. I didn't choose to, like...consciously. I just started running and my body brought me here...I'm sorry..." she is obviously embarrassed.

"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, kitten." The name elicits a deeper shade of pink on her face. She nervously looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes once again. He scoots closer, taking both of her hands in his, being gentler than he ever is. His loud over the top attitude replaced with a softness reserved only for Stevie. "I'm glad you came. How else would I have been able to tell you that if...if you would let me, I would never make you cry like this. You're much too pretty to have such ugly words thrown at you. Tommy doesn't know how much of an idiot he is because you're great, Stevie. I love everything about you, even when you make me watch some sports thing on TV. " He cracks a smile. Eddie knows he is taking a big risk, practically laying his heart out on the table for all to see. But how can he not when the prettiest girl in the world is sitting here in front of him, terrified that no one will love her.

A beat passes. Then two, before Stevie is smiling big, eyes still blood shot, but happiness shining through. "You really mean that, Eds?"

Eddie lets go of a breath he did not know he was holding. He lets out a little breathy laugh, smiling from ear to ear. "Cross my heart, princess. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yea, anything." She scoots closer, legs folded up underneath her practically touching Eddie's.

"I hated Tommy."

"Obviously. " Stevie cuts him off. "You literally named the villain of your last campaign "Thomas the Horrible." She giggles.

"Yea, I guess I wasn't so secretive about that." He pulls his hair across his blushing face. "But most of me hated him because of how he treated you, but another part of me, a big part of me, was jealous that he got the girl of my dreams."

Stevie is blushing even more before playfully hitting Eddie’s shoulder. "You're such a sap!"

"Yea, I am." Eddie readily admits.

"But it's okay... I like it. I like you, Eds. I've liked you since I saw you in the halls my freshmen year. And over the past year and half, since Vecna, since I thought I lost you for good, I realized that I love you. I just never thought you could see me like that."

"Like what?" Eddie whispers as he leans in, forehead resting against Stevie's.

"Like your girlfriend." Stevie admits.

"I would be the luckiest guy in the world to have you as my girlfriend, kitten." He puts his hands on either side of Stevie's face before pressing a his lips against hers. Stevie's lips are soft and warm, and feel great against his admittedly chapped lips. She tastes like strawberries.

"Love you too, Stevie." He says as they pull apart.

And it's like second nature as Stevie settles against him, cuddling together watching TV. It's like they were always meant to fit together. And for the first time in a long time, Stevie was content.

Thanks for reading! Feeling very gender dysphoric and need some fluff to feel better. Also I totally picture Stevie going to Eddie’s shows in a black leather mini skirt, and fishnets and a cropped Corroded Coffin shirt , just to get Eddie riled up while he was on stage.

[asherisawkward]

How do you think a "hero and villian are forced to work together" type of episode would have worked between Luz and Belos?

(Note, this is a rough outline of what season three could look like but without any focus on subplots.)

The intro would play the way it does in Thanks to Them, and we’d get some scenes of the Hexsquad adjusting to Earth while Luz is in school. She’d still be suffering from guilt, but it would be related to abandoning Camila without thinking about how that could affect her, especially with Manny’s death. Additionally, there would be a scene where Vee and Luz talk about what happened, and Vee apologizes for taking over Luz’s life and throwing out her things without permission. I think it’d be a good thing to give Vee some more time to develop and acknowledge her own mistake.

At school, we could have a few scenes of Luz trying to fit in and being shunned as evidence for why she was so eager to leave behind the Human Realm. We’d still have the scene of Flapjack finding the Codex and the Hexsquad deciding they’d go searching for the Titan’s Blood as a surprise for Luz. It would also be around this time that we see Gus and Hunter being Cosmic Frontier nerds. They’d get the scene of the group finding giraffes and getting terrified like in canon, and they meet Masha, who gives them a hand with the code.

It would then switch to follow Philip wandering about the Human Realm, possessing or feeding on animal corpses in an attempt to regain his strength. This would be an incredibly grim set of scenes focused on the difficulty Philip has with physical survival and regaining his strength after what the Collector did. A lot of his screentime would focus on the after effects Philip experiences after the Day of Unity. He’s falling apart and having a hard time becoming stable without a form to take over, and he would frequently be interrupted and distressed by various memories that Gus went through in King’s Tide coming back and tormenting him.

He’d start working up in forms until he got to a deer and get hit by a car just like in canon, and goop would get sprayed and spilled over the road, attracting Luz’ and Camila’s attention as they’re driving home with groceries. This is the point that Philip becomes a variable to the Hexsquad, and they start trying to plan around him.

Then, as the episode continued, each party would individually realize that the Collector is a threat to their respective goals (Luz’s goal being to save the Isles and Philip’s being to destroy them) along with the unwanted necessity of needing the other person in order to be able to stop the Collector from going on a rampage. Philip could help them make another portal if they gave him the right incentive with it. The group is rightfully conflicted on it, and Hunter is the most outspoken one on the Anti-Philip side of things for obvious reasons.

Philip would probably be more active about seeking Luz out because he’s more aware of her and the Hexsquad, while the latters are still putting pieces together about where he is and grappling with the fact that he may be an asset. Eventually, he’d move to digging up corpses and possessing them to get back his human form without actually hurting any humans before he forced himself into his human form briefly to get his clothes back and starts hauling himself to the Noceda household.

The scene of Philip knocking on the door of the house that the Hexsquad’s adopted would be very tense because, a) everyone is already there, so who’s knocking on the door, and, b) Philip is possessing a literal corpse to be here. Along with, you know, he’s Philip.

He wouldn’t ever say “I need your help to take down the Collector,” because he would not want to confess that he needs help and cannot take the Collector on alone. Instead, he makes it about how the Hexsquad needs him to make a stable portal and his magical expertise will be invaluable to them. Hell, he’ll even be generous and swear to not attack them while they’re teamed up. After a lot of debate and bargaining, they come to an agreement and start working together.

The rest of the episode is about how the various characters come to terms with having to be around the monster that tried to murder them all, and how Philip attempts to balance his recovery and creating the portal. On Halloween, they go out and have a bit of fun before they go to leave, and they still see the Tale of the Brothers Wittebane. The episode would end with the characters going through the portal, except for Vee, who stays behind how she does in canon. She’s been incredibly brave in facing and dealing with her abuser/captor, and I like that she’s not expected or forced to go along after that.

In For the Future, it would focus on King and the Collector for about half of it (with a little bit of Eda and Lilith) and the expanded Hexsquad for half of it.

On King’s side of things, he is dealing with a very sadistic and manipulative Collector (Shadow Collector, my beloved /j) They’re still playing Owl House with the Collector as Luz, but they’ve amped the stakes up. Instead of puppetifying everyone immediately, the Collector is forcing everyone to play their parts through intimidation, and if they mess up, then they start getting turned into a puppet slowly. It travels kind of like possession but slower, and the victims lose control and feeling of their limbs as the spell progresses. I’m thinking a horrifying situation that kind of goes, “my body is not my own.” Once someone is completely transformed, the spell is irreversible like petrification and basically becomes a corpse that is forced to move around and talk by the Collector. Eda, Hooty, and Lilith are set up by King as vital characters and are given a bit more leeway because King said they’re necessary for the game. Still, the Collector is becoming more violent as he starts to get bored with the game.

With the Hexsquad, Gus is quickly becoming one of the more important characters in the episode. The earring the at he took from Graye had a slice of Galderstone, which, contrary to popular belief, amplifies the complexity and scale of illusions that can be done. Using this knowledge, Gus makes and maintains an illusion as the Hexsquad walks that makes it seem as if there is nobody there without needing to hold breath the way they would with a glyph. He does a double-layered spell: one layer that has slight changes to the area around them and a couple animals to explain the noise they’re making, and another that just makes the group invisible to other eyes.

Willow and Amity will start talking properly about the way that things have changed over the past couple years and how just because Odalia and Alador made them stop being friends did not excuse the bullying that she did for years. Amity could properly acknowledge this and work to be better.

Camila is being a momma bear while also trying to adapt the way Luz did, and Luz finally gets to explain to her mother how she came to the Isles and how she fell in love with the place as a whole. It’s a really good bonding moment for the pair, and I think it could really help flesh out the way they interact as a family as a whole.

They’d stop at the Owl House and take a break, and Gus would have a moment where he talks to and connects with Philip. He explains his fascination and interest with humans and how he spent his childhood being enamored with them. He thought they were strange, amazing creatures that were good as a whole. Now, with what he’s seen in Philip’s memories, he feels disillusioned and hurt, like he’s lost a part of something integral to himself. How it that humans can be so horrible to people?

It would be really interesting to watch Philip and Gus to mourn their childhoods and the loss of that bright-eyed innocence about the world. After all, even if Philip believes humanity is good, he knows that there are bad people, and it can’t have been easy to learn that.

It would be a moment of genuine connection between the pair, and Philip could point out that there are good and bad people in every group, and that for every murderer or thief, there are doctors and authors and other amazing people who change the world. After listening to that, Gus pauses for a moment and says, “Have you ever considered that it’s the same way for witches, too?”

The pair stop talking after that.

Finally, finally, Luz and Philip get to talking about the way things are. Luz shares some of her concerns about being like him and how she’s a bad person for helping him meet the Collector. Philip roughly says, “You aren’t like me; you’re like Caleb.” Then we get a brief flashback scene as Philip explains a little bit of his childhood—being orphaned and dependent on Caleb with no one else in his life, the way he was all but destroyed when he saw his brother leave with Evelyn, how certain he was that Caleb wouldn’t abandon him, and everything else about his story.

At that point, Luz starts feeling awful about what happened with her mother and how scared she must have been when she found out that Luz wasn’t at summer camp and instead another realm. She wonders how she could be so thoughtless and what other ways she could have hurt the people she cares about. Philip points out that Camila is still alive and that there’s time to make things right between them. Hearing that, Luz runs off to go talk to her mother.

Camila is a bit surprised that her daughter comes to her suddenly and says that she needs to talk with her. They go into another room, and Luz pours her heart out about everything that happens and apologizes for leaving the way she did and not talking about things with her. Camila is gentle and comforts her, saying that she had been incredibly scared, but she’s proud of how much Luz has grown from her time in the Boiling Isles and how she could never ask her to leave someplace so dear to her forever.

Luz’s palisman wish in this is, “All I wanted is to feel like I belong somewhere,” because it still fits into her theme of being a weirdo and feeling misunderstood without putting pressure on her friends and family to bend over backwards to understand her even when they disagree. Stringbean is still her Palisman, but she’s just a snake as opposed to a snake-shifter.

Meanwhile, the Collector is becoming more and more suspicious of their “friend.” King goes away too often, and he’s always so secretive around Lilith and Eda! What if he’s planning something? What if he’s going to betray them the way Philip did? He begins preparing himself for King’s betrayal and spends some spies to follow the Titan. Eda, Lilith, Hooty, and King wander about in some of their limited time away from the Collector while they’re distracted or sleeping.

Eventually, the two groups meet up, and there’s a lot of joy for everyone as they reunite with each other, explain what’s been happening in the different realms, and introduce Eda, Lilith, and King to Camila. The Hexsquad is ecstatic to know that their loved ones are okay, as King confirms that he hasn’t seen any of them get puppetified (and King’s almost always there when that happens). However, once the shock has worn off, they realize that Philip is there, and they become incredibly suspicious about him. The situation is quickly explained, and the Eternal Oath between the two groups soothes them for now, but Lilith makes sure to tell Philip that she’s watching him for any suspicious business. The episode ends on the Collector, revealing that he’s seen the whole interaction.

In Watching and Dreaming, it would start shortly after Eda, Lilith, and Hooty were reunited with Luz and the rest of the Hexsquad. Philip is awkward and generally standing off to the side due to his mistreatment of both witches in the past and the growing realization that with the fight approaching, they will have to fight and either die or suffer, and Philip will have to turn against them in the end.

Eventually, the Collector would find the group and try to take King hostage for betraying him and working for his downfall. That would trigger an all out fight where everyone would scramble to get King free. Hunter would succeed by grabbing King and teleporting away after Amity restrains the Collector for a short period of time.

I’m not the best at describing fight scenes, but it would be a mess. Willow would be shooting vines at the Collector and making sure that everyone had the potential to get in range and get away if needed. Gus would be distracting, diverting, and attempting to visually overwhelm the Collector with his illusions. He might even try the bad memory thing again.

Amity would attack utilizing abomination matter and attempt to restrain the Collector’s movement. Hunter would have Flapjack and go about his usual teleportation-and-retreat based fighting style. King would use his Titan powers and Lilith would use potions (and Hooty) to destroy and hold back the puppet army. Eda and Camila would be doing their best to give the Collector hell while protecting their kids, and they’d be absolutely badass at it.

Philip would be fighting like the devil, and it’d be another opportunity to get a true sense and scale of his power. I’m thinking that because he’s the most durable and survived being liquified by the Collector, he jumps in to take most of the damage for the Hexsquad. Finally, Luz would be absolutely amazing with her glyph combinations now that Philip has had some time to teach her some of his combinations.

The fight would eventually end when Philip partially petrifies the Collector before Luz slams them with a glyph combination that nice again traps them in their prison. Then, the Hexsquad absolutely demolishes the tablet that’s used for the imprisoned and the real world to communicate.

There’s celebrations, laughing, crying, and hugging. People are hugging, and Amity and Luz kiss after the latter hugs her mother. Everyone’s celebrating, except for Philip. He’s standing off to the side and kind of staring at the scene before him. He’s seeing proof, actual proof, of the goodness of the witches and demons that he thought were evil. His entire life has been dedicated to a lie, and everything that he used to see as good is monstrous.

Philip is badly wounded, but he interrupts the festivities to attack the witches around him. Luz uses Stringbean to deflect the attack and begins fighting him back. With the wounds he has and the knowledge he’s been wrong his whole life, Philip is not fighting nearly as well as he does in his prime, making it easier for Luz to fight against him on more equal ground.

Luz asks him to stop, saying that there has to be some other way to resolve the situation. Now that she understands the situation and what caused it, maybe find another way. (Basically, she tries to pull a Steven Universe)

“How else could this have ended with how far I’ve gone?” Philip asks, continuing to fight. They continue to fight, the man getting more and more injured as they go on. Eventually, he’s too wounded to go on, and his body gives out beneath him. He passes on soon after. Luz is there when he dies, but she is not responsible for it. I want it to feel kind of somber, because he’s a pretty tragic character as a whole.

————

That’s my idea for Season Three if Philip and Luz had to team up. A lot of Thanks to Them comes from @chiconisroc’s “Was Not The Hero,” because it’s got the same sort of premise.

[erxxi3]

Can you do an angst/comfort Leon x reader where Reader is in a depressed state and while going on a walk, she bumps into Leon. They end up having a cute movie night at Leon’s house with cuddles and food?

I need some love from Leon. >~<

YES OFC I CAN!!

I haven’t done angst at all, so this is probably gonna suck ass atleast I tried though that is all that matters.

Anyways the angst part is about the fem! reader loosing her parents bc I couldn’t think of anything else I am very sorry!’ I didn’t know how to end it but I eventually thought of something.

— Restless Comfort

Pairings: ID! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: What the request said.

Cw. Angst to Fluff, death of parents, grieving /mourning of death, kissing, age-gap (The reader is like a couple years younger than him), Leon being shy/embarrassed, reader slowly falling in love w Leon, cuddling, waking up ontop of him, and Leon admitting he loves you and you do reciprocate back. :)

Character Count: 19.9k

On a cold September evening, you were walking arms crossed underneath your chest through the park. The sun had disappeared, leaving only a bitter layer of light in the sky behind the clouds. Your breath left small puffs of cloud in front of your face as you walked. It was getting darker now too. The park was empty except for you and the occasional bird that swooped by from time to time.

You sighed deeply as the cold air brushed against your cheeks, as you thought of attending your parents funeral today. They ’d been married nearly three years already, and yet the loss was still raw to you. They had always been so supportive when you needed it, but now you were alone in this world with no one to turn to, nothing to fall back on. Not for the first time, you wished you had someone at home to take care of you, someone who could make sure you took care of yourself.

Shaking your head, looking down at the pond you sat before. You were watching the ducks swim around lazily, their feathers brushing along each other every now and then, creating tiny waves beneath their surface. Your eyes drifted over them as you let out another deep sigh, the sound carrying off across the quiet of the area.

You decided it wouldn’t be best to attend, but you couldn’t bear to let yourself not say any words to them. After all, they were the people you would have to live with now until you found your place in life.

Besides, never getting to tell them how you been holding up these last few months is not an option either, you reasoned with yourself. So, instead, you turned, making your way toward the parking lot, which you bumped into a tall attractive looking man. As he stumbled backward, trying to regain his balance, you saw he also wore sunglasses. You frowned in confusion before he spoke. “Oh geez, I’m sorry ma’am. Are you alright?” He asked politely, reaching out for you, helping steady you.

“I’m fine thank you. I apologize too for bumping into you. I wasn't watching where I was going,” you apologized, giving him an apologetic smile. His gaze flickered meeting your eyes. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but pushed away from the uncomfortable and embarrassing moment. You cleared your throat before stepping away, you said, “Well…I’ll just get going now. Goodbye…”

Just as you turned to leave, you heard his voice calling after you, “Wait a minute.” Your eyes immediately shot up, and you saw that he was smiling. You didn’t know what to say as the silence stretched between the two of you. “What’s your name?” he asked finally, breaking the silence. Your stomach dropped at the question, and you felt the urge to run.

What the hell do you tell a stranger?

Should you even give him your real name, or just a fake one?

Oh no, this isn’t good at least not at this time.

You opened your mouth to respond to him, but he interrupted before you got the chance, saying quickly, “That’s okay! No need to answer if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for bothering you…I…uh…well…” you watched as he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “Never mind,” and turned on his heel, striding back towards his car that was parked some distance from yours. You watched, slightly dumbstruck as he climbed into his expensive looking car.

A couple minutes later and you heard the engine revving loudly and he drove off slowly, disappearing from view. You shook your head, laughing to yourself silently, amused at his strange behavior.

How did he get so flustered all of a sudden anyway?

Was there something about you that made him seem like a total idiot?

Maybe he was just really awkward?

Who knows, maybe you are just being dramatic, you thought, shaking your head again as you began to drive homewards.

The rest of the night flew by uneventfully, and before you knew it, tomorrow morning arrived and your family gathered in the parlor room, ready for their final viewing of your parents. You had cried during the whole ceremony, though you tried desperately to conceal that fact.

After the service, you sat in the living room, talking to some of your closest friends that had came. Jill and Claire were the one’s always there for you even when you were little, but this event that took place was not merely giving you guilt it was more so a grievance that would haunt you for the rest of your life. Your parents were murdered. You lost your mother, and your father. And yet somehow you managed to try and pull yourself together by going to live with Jill & Claire. It was hard for you to believe sometimes how far you'd come since then. But as you stood there next to one of your best friends, Claire told you she invited one of her friends to join them as well.

She had gone out to the lobby fetching him bringing him over to where you were, your eyes began to meet his once again. He seemed just as shocked to see you as you were to see him, but you simply smiled at him warmly. Claire introduced both of you to each other, but you weren’t really listening to them. Your focus was solely on the man you had met earlier, and who hadn’t looked quite as flustered anymore. In fact, he looked almost smug.

His eyes danced with amusement, and suddenly you found yourself unable to take your eyes off him as you continued to smile shyly. Finally, he broke the eye contact, shifting awkwardly, his eyes darting to the ground. You blinked several times wondering if you’d actually seen something pass through his blue eyes, like electricity sparking through the air. When your trance was broken, you tore your gaze away from the man, focusing instead on what Claire was saying.

You nodded absently at her explanation, not even realized what was happening in the conversation until it ended abruptly, Claire having noticed your distraction as well. You turned to look up at the man standing before you with distance once more, feeling a bit sheepish. He must have noticed your glance as he chuckled softly, glancing up briefly, giving you a wink. It was then that you realized that he was gazing at you. Noticing that he was taller than you, much taller than you, with broad shoulders and strong arms. You gulped, taking another quick glance at him, and you felt your body temperature raise.

It took all you had in you not to avert your eyes in his direction, embarrassed by your own reaction. You were supposed to be grieving but you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach that you felt as he looked at you.

Why do I feel this way?

Why am I falling for a complete stranger that happens to be handsome?

As if sensing your internal turmoil he smirked. He gave you one last lingering look before turning away and whispering something to Claire. She replied to him, giggling. You got up from your seat dusting your skirt off, telling them that you have to take a call and will be back soon, leaving the parlor. Walking to the closest room in the building, it was small, however, could possibly be a dressing room of some sort. Pulling your cell phone from your pocket, you hit speed dial 3 on speed dial, and waited patiently for someone to pick up on the other end.

‘Please pick up, please answer. Don’t hang up, please don’t...’ you kept repeating in your mind, the number didn’t answer. You paced in a circle trying to dual it again, but it was no hope. The door closed behind you, someone coming from behind you grabbing you hand over your mouth, so that you wouldn’t scream as you tried to fight against the person, tears filling your eyes.

They pulled their hand away from your face, letting out a sigh of relief once they saw that it was only you. ‘Thank god…’ you thought relieved, but the person who had grabbed you turned you to look at them. “Didn’t mean to make ya think I was gonna hurt ya..” you heard him mumble. You were still stunned at seeing him again after all you been trying to avoid him, but his apology made you relax. You didn’t trust yourself enough to talk at first as a blush spread across your cheeks. “It’s all right, I forgive you…” you whispered.

He let out a small chuckle before replying, “Good…” he trailed off staring at you intently. Your heart began beating fast as he moved closer to you. You gulped nervously as your breathing increased, “So um…who are you exactly?” You questioned nervously, your fingers rubbing against the fabric of your dress trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. He chuckled lightly before speaking.

“My name is Leon,” he said, “Leon Kennedy…”. At hearing his name you felt like something inside you clicked in understanding, “Oh! You must be Claire’s friend, right?” you asked. “Yeah…that’s me. Nice to meet you.” He responded, a grin plastered across his face. His hands rested lightly on his hips as he leaned down to speak with you, which gave you an unobstructed view of his chest, as well as his eyes. “I never caught your name earlier…I was trying to ask you, but I didn’t want to put pressure on you, you know?” he explained. You chuckled nervously, feeling your cheeks begin to flush red once more. “I see…my name is Y/N….”

.

“Nice to meet you once again.” he remarked. “What are you doing here anyways? I thought Claire told you it was my parents funeral before she invited you..” He could hear the worry break in your voice at the mention of Claire’s words. He sighed inwardly. “Yeah…I know, Claire mentioned something about that earlier.” He paused, “I guess I should have known that you’d be attending it, since it’s your parents….” He spoke softly, placing his hands around you bringing you into him for a hug. You froze up in his arms, unsure of what you were supposed to do.

For some reason, you felt safe in his arms, like you belonged there. You breathed a sigh of relief as you held onto him for what seemed like forever, enjoying his security.“I…I-“ You said hesitantly wrapped your arms around his middle hugging tightly to him, while letting your tears just come pouring down the sides of your cheeks.

You were grateful that he did not push you away, and you were content that he did not leave keeping you in comfort due to the loss.

Eventually, he gently eased you apart from him, looking straight into your eyes, wiping the remaining traces of your tears from your cheeks. “Better?” he asked. You sniffed nodding your head, “Yeah…thanks…” You said softly, he wiped a few stray tears from under your eyes, leaving you to feeling embarrassed.

There was silence between the two of you. He seemed hesitant to say anything else, but he finally decided to take matters into his own hands. “You know… I haven’t gotten the chance to thank you properly for inviting me to come here…” he said moving to stand directly in front of you.

You looked into his eyes, trying desperately to memorize every feature of his face, “Yea..” you murmured, as the corners of his lips upturned into a slight smirk. He placed one of his hands on your cheek pulling you close towards him, making you gulp nervously, his thumb softly stroking your cheekbone. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you sooner…” he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, “Don’t be sorry…” you said, “I’m glad Claire invited you and that you had even showed up…” you admitted quietly as the both of you stared at each other deeply. Your hands found their way to his chest, resting comfortably on his bare skin, and he gazed down at you as if you were everything he’d ever wanted, and more.

Suddenly, as if a switch had flipped somewhere deep inside of him, his body tensed. His dark eyes widened as a look of horror appeared on his face. You frowned in confusion, “What’s wrong?” you asked worried. He seemed as if he were struggling to breath. “Are you okay? What is it?” you questioned.

“it’s just that esrlier I was going to ask if I could get your number, but I think it is such a bad time this moment…” he muttered almost too low to be heard. His hands began to shake slightly, his knuckles turning white in a visible sign of panic. You narrowed your eyes at his behavior.

‘Why does he seem uneasy?

And why do I feel anxious?’ you wondered in frustration, clenching your fists tightly, ‘Why do I feel like something is going to happen?’ you continued to ponder on your thoughts, not noticing Leon standing beside you. You were too lost inside your own mind to notice the man standing next to you.

“Well..uhhh” you stuttered looking at the male in front of you, “You can have it if that makes it up…maybe we could go grab some coffee or see a movie?” you suggested.

He smiled at the offer, “Sure…that sounds perfect. I think it has been a long time since I went out to dinner anyway.” he said chuckling sheepishly. ‘A date?!’ your mind screamed in excitement, your body becoming lightheaded. ‘I have a date with my bestfriend’s friend?!.' you thought excitedly. “Let me get my keys and say goodbye to Claire so we can head out.” Leon stated, grabbing his keys out of his pockets and opening the door to walk out of the room followed by you back into the parlor.

Saying goodbye’s to your friends and family as well you stepped outside, waiting for Leon to open the car door for you. After saying goodbye to everyone you climbed into the passenger seat and waited for Leon to join you. As soon as he got into the car he started the engine, backing out of the driveway.

A few seconds later you couldn’t help but notice his hands were shaking again, his knuckles white from how hard he was squeezing the steering wheel. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern, deciding it would probably be better for him if you didn't say anything. Instead, you chose to focus your attention outside of the window instead, watching the scenery rush past you quickly. Leon cleared his throat breaking the tense silence. "Sorry, my hands are a little shaky." he apologized, "I've never been in this area before." he explained.

You knew this was a lie, so you just played along.

You nodded in acknowledgement before taking a glance over to him, you were surprised to find he was looking right at you, his blue eyes gazing at you intensely, causing goosebumps to form along your skin.

"Do you live nearby?" you asked, suddenly nervous when he turned his gaze away from you. He nodded, “Yes..in fact, my house is not far from here actually.” You hummed nodding in approval before returning your eyes back outside.

The only thing on your mind now was your upcoming date and whether or not Leon is going to remember you. “So uh…” you began awkwardly. “What exactly are we going to do when we get there?” you asked after awhile of staring out the window, hoping he might be able to give some sort of response to your question. “Well…I suppose I should tell you all about myself first then, huh?” He chuckled as he took one hand off the steering wheel to fix the hair that fell across his forehead. You rolled your eyes smiling fondly at him before answering, “Alright, shoot” you replied.

*

Your eyes trailed slowly over to the side of him, noticing that he was still holding his hand on the steering wheel. You grabbed your bag strap pulling it tighter against yourself. The air became tense. You didn’t like the way the atmosphere felt, like it was getting darker and darker. When you had arrived to his house, taking off your shoes before you came in. He went to make popcorn and started up the movie.

Once finished with that he walked over to the living table where you sat and set the bowl of popcorn, and drinks down in front of you sitting dowm.

After a few minutes into the movie you fell asleep resting your head against his shoulder, which woke you up once Leon had placed you carefully on the couch. “(Y/N), wake up…” He whispered softly rubbing your arm soothingly.

You blinked your eyes groggily before lifting up your head slightly to see Leon’s face, “mmhm…Just a few more minutes…” you would groan, yet he moved you laying a pillow on his lap as you slept with a blanket thrown over you, his arm on your back rubbing light circles helping you drift back to sleep. Once you were asleep he carried you to his bed placing you next to him, tucking you kissing your forehead gently, “Sleep well, princess.” before resting his eyes taking in some sleep next to you.

*****

It was late afternoon and you woke up half asleep finding yourself lying ontop of Leon’s chest and he was still fast asleep, but his arms wrapped around you. You felt comfortable in his strong hold and your dreams were filled with nothing except him.

When your eyes fluttered open, you realized that you hadn’t dreamed, and that you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. It was definitely a pleasant surprise though. You smiled lightly before shifting yourself to look up at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. That’s when he woke up. His face immediately turning red, as he shot his eyes open.

“Hey sleepy head…” you cooed at him teasingly, running your finger across his chest. He turned his gaze shyly “Good morning...I was beginning to wonder when you would awaken, but I had decided that you were uncomfortable on the couch so I brought you in my room to sleep….ending up falling asleep myself. How embarrassing am I right?” he muttered quickly, averting his gaze. You giggled, “You are so embarrassed. I find that cute!” you grinned letting out a small laugh.

“Oh no, please don’t tell anyone else, they will tease me.. .” he joked laughing at the same time, you rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay I won’t tell anyone…but, maybe you should let me stay with you more often.” you suggested jokingly. He raised an eyebrow at you, “Hmm…are you sure? Because I think Claire might get the wrong idea....” he teased. You gave him a stern look, “And if she does? She can’t do anything about what she doesn’t know….” you smirked, making him raise his eyebrows even higher. Your face turned pink when you realized what you had just implied. He stared into your (e/c) eyes for a while, a smile appearing on his lips, “Don’t worry I won’t push you to tell her about us if you prefer to keep our relationship under wraps.” That smile sent shivers down your spine and caused your heart to begin pounding in your chest, your palms starting to sweat slightly.

Before you had a chance to respond he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a second before moving his face closer to yours as your faces were inches apart, you opened your mouth to speak when he spoke. “I’ll always make sure our secret stays between the both of us…no matter what…” he breathed.

Your breath caught in your throat, the heat building up inside of you growing stronger than before. He pulled away, his face blushing slightly while you felt as if you were floating. He leaned back in closer and pressed another kiss against your forehead. Then finally closing the gap between your two faces, he kissed your lips tenderly, brushing them with your own. Feeling yourself melt into the kiss you parted your lips, allowing him entrance. This kiss wasn’t filled with passion but it was gentle and sweet. It was different from any other kiss that you had shared before.

He held onto the back of your neck, gently pushing you further into the kiss. He tasted of coffee and mint toothpaste as his tongue explored your mouth. This kiss was short lived however as the two of you pulled apart, gasping for air. A small chuckle escaped your lips as he laid your down gently onto the bed.

He laid down beside you wrapping his arm loosely around your waist, “I love you, Y/N” He mumbled quietly. “I love you too, Leon.” you responded, giving him a kiss on the lips. The rest of the night was filled with soft kisses and cuddles with his arm draped protectively over your waist. Neither one of you said anything, knowing that there wasn’t really needed to be.

All you could feel is pure happiness with him.

[briarpotter]

B-9: The man she is about to marry happens to already have a wife and three kids. (Modified slightly into past tense.)

Pain. That was all she felt. All over her body. "Somebody get her to St. Mungo's!" She heard. She groaned at the pain. She felt herself being moved before she blacked out.

"What happened?" She heard someone ask. She recognized the voice as Harry's; her fiancé. She smiled to herself. She felt him slump on a chair next to her bed.

"How is she?!" Someone rushed in the room, clearly panicked. "I don't know. I haven't got a chance to talk to the healer." Harry said. "I'll go get them!" He exclaimed. She thought it was Ron.

He went out the room, and someone else came in. Someone female, from the sound of their voice. Was it Hermione? "What about the kids?!" Harry asked, worried. "They're fine. They're with Molly." She responded. Ginny felt Harry nod next to her.

The kids? Whose kids? Must be Victoire. But why would Hermione have been taking care of them? She tried moving her arms and opening her eyes. She found that she couldn't do either.

"I found the healer." Ron announced. "Oh, thank merlin! How is Ginny?" Harry asked. "We've already conducted tests, and we've found out that she has slight amnesia." The healer said.

"What?!" Both Harry and Hermione exclaimed. "Wait, what's amnesia?" Ron asked. "It's when a person can't remember events in their life, particularly after a tragic accident, or trauma." The healer explained.

"You mean like her falling off her broom from 30 feet?!" Harry shouted. The healer nodded. "Yes." "Healer Mason, is there any way to cure it? Potions, or some medicine?" Ron asked. So his name was Healer Mason.

"Sadly, there is no known cure to amnesia. Muggle or Magical. But, once she wakes up, you must find out what she remembers, and find something that would trigger the memories she's lost." Mason said. "Alright." All three of the nodded.

"You have kids, right?" Healer Mason asked Harry. He nodded. "Yes, well, I would advise not letting her see them until you know exactly what she forgot."  "Alright." Harry nodded. "Can I use your floo?" He asked. Healer Mason nodded.

"Clevedon Court!" He called, throwing a pitch of floo powder into the fireplace. "Hello Molly! Um, listen, Ginny might have amnesia, so the healer advises not letting her see the kids, so could you make sure they're in their rooms by the time we're home? We'll be there in a few hours." He explained.

“Our kids are fine, Harry, stop worrying. You only have to worry about yours.” Ron said, grinning. “I love my nephews and my niece, but they’re definitely trouble, just like their parents.” He added. “I’m honestly surprised that you convinced your wife to have a 3rd kid with you, especially after her cursing at you for weeks after being in labor for hours.” Hermione said.

Harry chuckled. “I wore her down eventually.” What?! The man she was about to marry happened to already have a wife and three kids. She tried to open her eyes, and groaned at the effort. Harry heard this and rushed to her side. Her eyelids flew open with difficulty and she sat up painfully. “How dare you?!” She glared at Harry. “W-What?” He stuttered. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“You proposed to me, and now you already have a wife and 3 kids?!” She ranted. “Ginny, love, calm down, please.” He pleaded. “Calm down?! Calm down?! How dare you tell me to calm down?!” She screamed. “Ginny, if you just let me explain-” Harry began. “Yeah, sure, explain how you’ve been cheating on me!” She cut him off.

“You’re my wife!” Harry exclaimed, frustrated. “We have 3 kids together! We’ve been married for the past 15 years!” “Oh.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, Harry!” She apologized. “You didn’t deserve hearing all that.” She winced as she remembered what she had said. “I love you, okay? I’d never cheat on you.” She nodded and kissed him softly. Harry kissed her back, while Ron made gagging noises in the background, so Hermione glared at him to shut him up.

It proved effective, and she kissed him on the cheek. “Sorry, love, but you were being a bit annoying again.” Hermione explained. Ron chuckled and said, “I know.” He pecked her on the lips and smiled at Harry and Ginny. “We’ll take our leave, yeah? Take good care of her!” Ron stood up and head towards the door. Harry nodded. Hermione followed with a smile. “We’ll see you guys later to pick up our kids.” “Bye.” Harry said softly.

He turned back to face Ginny with a small smile on his face. “How you feelin’?” He asked. Ginny grinned. “Just fine.”

[oddlykilledghosts]

I Want You To Like Me - Rafe Cameron x reader (Part Three)

Summary: You're a pogue by choice, kook from birth. The friendship that you have with the other pogues is undeniable, no one questions their loyalty for you or your loyalty to them. So when a certain King of the Kooks takes interest in you, it's only right to turn him down. Right?

Apologies for the long wait! Had a lot of ways this chapter could’ve gone…but hopefully you guys like what I ended up on…I also ended with a little less Rafe than I had intended but that equals more parts for later on

Also do you guys want me to share my outer banks playlist I listen to while writing these fics? I also have one specifically for this series! Lemme know

p.s. I had Paramore’s “All I Wanted” on repeat while writing this particular part so do with that what you will

Word Count: 7k

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x reader, John B x Sarah Cameron, platonic!Pogues x reader

The phone call aftermath moved very quickly. You had taken a couple minutes too long, soaking up the air that had reached you in the wind from the ocean in a sore attempt to calm your flushed cheeks, and when you returned to the Chateau Pope was awake and Kie and John B had fallen into an argument that left your stomach heavy with added dread. At least, you thought to yourself, that this dread was familiar. Talking on the phone with Rafe Cameron while he was oh so casually “hitting balls” with Topper and Kelce at the country club most definitely did not fall into that category. Pope, who was using the same cereal bowl as you had been and had hopefully cleaned it before his own use, was sitting in the kitchen in a hungover daze looking like he wanted to step into the fight and use a few calming words but couldn’t quite make the leap there. The Chateau’s exterior door to the screened-in porch creaked on its hinges but the indoor entryway opened without noise when you walked in. This calmed your heart rate after hearing the voices inside get louder when you approached the house, not wanting to involve yourself too much in a fight when you had JJ’s hat to be dealt with. Neither of those things mattered though, because when you stood in the doorway debating how to get to your room without getting in the sight of either of the two bickering pogues, Kie spotted you, just as you deciphered what they were arguing about. Sarah. 

In these types of fights between the pogues, there were always sides, but there was also the essential knowledge that the fighting would eventually be resolved. In being the two girls in the group, you ended up sticking by Kie in a lot of times of need whether you agreed with her or not. JJ tended to pick John B. Pope was always the mediator. It was how things worked. And they worked well. This instance, however, was odd. 1) because JJ was out surfing, 2) You owed John B, and 3) because you needed John B’s help with Rafe that day too…which meant Kie was right AND was going to be left in the dust. Plus, a little bit of you also hated that Kie happened to be right that particular day about that particular (*cough* the Cameron’s) topic. Mostly because that very day you were going to go against almost every word she was saying.

Kie reached a hand out to you, urging you to show your alliance by standing physically next to her. If you went, you would be parallel to John B and crossing a line across the threshold. Her eyes poked holes in your heart, as if her gaze caused the blood to fall slowly out of it and pool around your feet in a painting of guilt. It was one argument. She would forgive you. Except that this small, meaningless fight meant more and you knew it. It meant sides. Sides that weren’t in this room. Sides that you and John B were taking. Were you willing to risk fighting for one kiss? That one kiss swam in your bones and it felt so warm, so similar to the sun hitting your skin. But this was wrong. “Y/N, you know I’m right, right?” Your hesitation caused Kie to falter. Normally, she would be full of confidence and show no mercy to her opponents, but as a friend you held her heart in your hands. Unfortunately, you were about to squeeze a little.

You eyed John B carefully but even he looked a little lost and frustrated as you met his gaze. His eyes wavered a bit just as you stepped a foot closer to his side of the room-

“Y/N kissed Rafe.” The room suddenly felt stiff with hot Outer Banks air as the words fell from John B’s mouth.

“WHAT?” Your head snapped immediately back to John B, while at the same time Kiara echoed your shock and your word and looked towards you. Pope munched on his cereal, still a little sleepy and a little bit scared to intervene until he has his wits about him. Luckily he had already gulped down Kiara’s concoction, as it was sitting empty next to his bowl, so he was sure to sober up faster than usual. 

“And he has JJ’s hat.” John B helpfully added to his last statement.

This time only Kiara spoke, “What the fuck, Y/N.” She placed a hand on her forehead and looked down at her feet which you noticed were a pair of vans that had originally belonged to you.

Heartbeat slowing a bit, you paused, looking between John B and Kiara. When your eyes glanced over John B his own eyes urged you to talk. To say something. You didn’t know what his game was. John B obviously had kept his relationship secret for some time now, only making a slip up the night before. Why couldn’t you? Why couldn’t you figure this out without judgment you knew was going to come from your friends? You thought John B understood this. He had forgiven you easily, but only because of his own indiscretions with the middle Cameron sibling. You knew how much this feud hurt Kie, you had been there when it happened. You couldn’t hurt her like this. 

But you already had. 

Kie stood still for a minute, staring at your silence, and finally after playing with the multiple friendship bracelets on her wrist she spoke again with an exasperated sigh, “Let’s go get the hat, Y/N.”

Then she walked out of the Chateau.

“You should probably follow her.” Pope said between munches, he had already poured himself another bowl. The solo cup that had been taped to his hand from the night before had been attacked and was hanging limply but was still unfortunately attached.

When you started towards the door, Pope added with a heavy amount of side eye towards the leader of the pogues, “Both of you.” John B, not wanting to cross Pope when he was probably right, pushed past you and followed Kie out towards the Twinkie. 

“You’ll talk to-” You said, stopping at the door.

“JJ. Yup.” Pope responded. You gave your friend a smile and he gave you one back, laughing a little cautiously as he added, “You know Rafe’s a dick, right?”

You shook your head, a little happy Pope didn’t seem as mad and a little disappointed in yourself that you were here in this situation at all. “Yeah. Just-”

“Talk to JJ. I know. I’ll distract him until you guys get back.”

When you went to leave you again stopped and turned back to Pope, “You don’t hate me, do you?”

Pope turned towards you with a light and soft smile on his face, “No, I don’t, Y/N. Now let me eat my third bowl of cereal. It’s brain-”

“-food. Blah blah. I’m leaving.”

_______________________

When you reached the cars (there were usually only two there, yours and the Twinkie, as well as JJ’s dirt bike) your car was missing and you assumed JJ had taken it down to his favorite surf spot, so Kie had already made herself comfortable in the front seat of the VW van. When you were close enough to see your friends through the windows, you could tell there had been a little spat before you got there because John B was sulking in the back. 

There were always signs that John B was actually upset, only this time you couldn’t even decipher his side profile. He looked more on edge than anything. You wished you could lend him JJ’s hat, as if transferring the magic again…but you’d have to get the hat first and that seemed like it would happen after Kie killed you both. If Kie was really about to blow up she might think to do it in the Twinkie driving 80 down the highway so no one could hear the lecture she was about to induce upon the two of you. The hat magic might cheer up you and John B after being totally eviscerated though.

You knocked on the driver’s side window, and Kiara, looking a little pissed but not fuming, rolled it down. “Yes?” 

The thing was it was weird you could never view Kiara as angry. Yes, she had a lot of anger towards kooks and the environmental damages people and corporations were doing to the planet, but to you she was easy going and carefree and liked to have fun. Her eyebrows being furrowed always submitted confusion first in your mind, not anger. Especially when it was targeted at you.

“I assume I am also in a backseat timeout?”

“Get in the passenger seat, Y/N/N.”

Nicknames were a good sign, so you followed suit and climbed into the passenger side of the Twinkie and hoped Kiara wasn’t planning on crashing the van in a crime of passion and narrowly escaping as the sole survivor.

At first the drive was very quiet. Neither you or John B spoke, but you did send back and forth worrying glances. It was easy to read John B when you knew him like you did, easier now that he was letting you in on his feelings. His eyes gave everything away, and once you got used to looking in them, more often or not it was hardly a feat to discover what his true purposes were. However, you also wanted to send daggers through John B. But as much as you were angry with him you trusted him. He rarely saved his own ass instead of his friends. If this was an attempt to leech all the anger Kiara had about kooks away from him and onto you, you would’ve been able to tell. And so far, there was no sign of that in his deep brown irises. 

Then finally, halfway across the Cut, Kiara started talking. Well, she was more likely demanding answers than plainly having a chat. It started with a question, “Is what John B said true?”

Both you and John B started speaking at the same time but John B was louder and cut you off, “I wouldn’t lie about-”

Kie snapped back quickly, still keeping her eyes on the road, “I was asking Y/N. So shut up.” John B opened his mouth once more to protest, but no words came out and he closed it just as fast.

You sighed as the Twinkie came to a red light, “Yes. I kissed Rafe last night. To be fair, I think I was drunk. But either way, I’m sorry.”

Kie let out a breath, “Is this an ongoing thing?”

You tried to hide the fact that it might be becoming one, but your hesitation with your answer cued Kie off. “...No.”

“But you like him.”

“Jury’s out on that one.”

John B piped up, “I have a feeling the Jury has its verdict.”

At the same time you reached back to hit him, Kiara again told John B to be quiet. Then she continued and peeked a soft glance at you while she was driving while occasionally looking back to the idle road, “You weren’t going to tell me?”

“Maybe not yet? I was very worried I was making the wrong move.”

She sighed and then pulled over onto the side of the street. “Y/N, yeah, I’m mad at you.” Then she took a deep breath in, and with a little more tension in her shoulders she continued, “But you deserve to figure things out. I’ve mostly figured my side of things out…but you came from that side of the island too. However, you are also a pogue, and you are also my best friend. I don’t want you to get hurt. And Rafe well…” Kiara’s voice was full of hard edges and warnings of being careful (and mostly not to cross her again) but you knew she was trying to be understanding. It wasn’t a full switch from how she had been fighting with John B at the Chateau but it was a kinder (in retrospect) approach.

“He’s quite an interesting choice.” John B piped up.

“Shut up John B.” You and Kie said at the same time, and you turned back to each other a smile tainting both of your lips. Connection. You felt this overwhelming urge to hug your friend. Like it was new and fresh, seeing her with clean eyes. It was refreshing to see that your assumptions about Kiara’s reaction had been wrong. That you were worried about this big explosion and the volcano had passed by nonthreateningly. She was still very much her assertive self, but it was recognizable and not seized with so much anger that you couldn’t move past it. That you had been right to trust your gut that Kie was not harboring anger for you, and she never had been. It would just take her time to understand if this was something you really wanted. It would take time for you to understand.

Although there was still anger there that you could clearly see underneath her civility and in her tone that you would be able to work through it at a later date. Maybe when this whole Rafe thing turned out to be a flitting desire and not something that would cause a bigger debacle. You were sure though, that if Kie had suspected it was just hooking up, she would’ve been less angry. It was one thing to have sex with a Kook and it was another to be thinking about having real feelings for one. Especially Rafe. 

“It’s not like I couldn’t see this coming, you have been in love with him since we were friends with Sarah.” Kie added, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as she showed off some of the facial expressions she had been holding back. 

“I have not been in love with him-” You protested, pouting a little that you had seemed that transparent.

Kie laughed a little and interrupted you, “Okay sure, recently you’ve said you hated him. Which was apparently a lie.”

“Lie my ass!” You protested again, pushing your friend playfully as she sat still at the wheel of the unmoving Twinkie.

“Well either you’re lying to us or yourself.” John B chided annoyingly as he purposefully messed up your hair and leaned up to where you and Kie were sitting. “I think it’s better I said something, look at you two as close as ever.” 

Which was exactly why John B spilled your stupid dirty laundry, you saw it plain and clear in his eyes and a little bit in that stupid smirk. You had figured it shortly into the drive, but John B didn’t want you to be in his position. Kiara was smart and fierce, but she was also stubborn. If you had wandered over to John B’s side and held your secret close to your chest, your friendship with your best friend might have never been the same. He was saving you from later fights. Because he was right, Rafe could end badly. You might need your best friend for that. Big John never said honesty was the best policy, but you liked to think that he would be proud of the pogues sticking together.

You stole a look at Kie and she nodded in confirmation, then you both used your hands to push John B back into the back of the Twinkie with force. He landed on the floor of the vehicle with a soft thud and a playful chuckle. “John B, you are a quarter forgiven. Don’t push your luck. You’re still dating my mortal enemy.” Kie said with a sharp tongue, throwing a dagger of a look towards your mutual friend. Somehow the incident with you had lightened her mood about Sarah, and you hoped she could also learn to forgive John B for keeping that a secret. You were ready just that morning to lay your life down for the same if not worse conditions.

“Does this mean I’m fully forgiven?” You asked, looking at Kiara and your similar chokers and shared shoes. There was a kinship there, in the things you shared as pogues. As if you were all connected. It showed in JJ’s shirts you found and ended up sleeping in. Or one of Pope’s button downs. But you and Kie shared the most, your styles intermingled and showed the bond. Kook turned pogue, mirror images. 

Kiara sighed and rolled her eyes, “I’m still deliberating. We still have to get the hat back.”

You checked your phone, it was eleven twenty a.m. you still had time to make it to Tannyhill. “Rafe said to meet him at Tannyhill at noon.”

In an attempt to not make things worse, you assumed Kiara elected to ignore that you had made plans to meet up with Rafe, whether it be for JJ’s hat or not. And you were glad she did. You needed your best friend.

“Gun it.” John B said with a smirk, still on the floor of the Twinkie. 

“This thing only goes so fast, Routledge.” Kiara retorted, but pulled back onto the road and hit the gas hard. 

___________________

You got to Tannyhill with ten minutes to spare, which was exceedingly lucky with how fast the Twinkie goes. When you arrived, you noticed that there were a few straggling cars from the night before that were still parked around the house and on the street. This time, rather than what you had thought the night before, you knew Ward would not approve this. He’s more of the kind of man that pretends to be friendly with neighbors and isn’t actually forgiving. But now with less people at the property, it was open enough to pull into the house’s driveway. You really hoped that Rafe was right and Sarah would not be home since everything was still fairly fresh with Kie. Seeing the two girls go head to head would be too much for one morning. 

When finally you made it close enough to the front door, Kiara put the Twinkie into park and looked around, as if a group of Kooks was about to ambush us. When she seemed to think it was all clear, she got out of the car. It was your turn to ask a question, “Where are you going?” you asked, a little afraid of what her answer would be because as soon as you asked it John B was already out of the car too (although a bit more comfortable with the house than Kie seemed to be).

Kie shrugged and motioned for you to come out, “We’re getting the hat, you coming Y/N/N?”

See, to you this could mean many things, and several of them went through your mind. The most common instance is that Kie would pummel Rafe. It was safer than sorry to follow your friends so you didn’t end up locked up after assaulting someone and Rafe claiming a B&E case.

You caught up quickly with your fellow pogues but started to protest that you should go in alone. That it was fine. You could get it and everything would be great. Both of your friends swatted your protests away as soon as you reached the front door. “You need backup,” Kie would say. “We get the hat, get out, it’ll be an adventure,” John B added, though you weren’t quite sure what adventure he was referring to that would land you at Tannyhill. Then Rafe opened the door, with you tugging on John B’s arm to turn back to the Twinkie, John B pulling you towards the door and Kiara’s arms crossed in a defensive pose. You froze with your hands locked around John B’s arm.

“Sarah’s not here.” Rafe said in a bored voice to John B, the door only open enough for his silhouette as if he were afraid all three of you would barge in if he opened it wider. His eyes subtly passed over you in a quick motion as he scanned the three of you and immediately you dropped John B’s arm. A sizable bit of embarrassment washed over you, but you let it go easily as you looked at Rafe in the doorway. Mostly because if anyone at all knew that you weren’t with John B, it would be the Cameron boy. 

Kiara spoke up in a stern voice, “We’re here for the hat, actually.”

Rafe’s eyebrows twitched, as if remembering Kie’s brashness for the first time, “Well, actually, I’m curious why you think I have a hat you would want.”

Kiara pointed towards you without breaking eye contact with Rafe, “This one,” she paused and smiled smugly. “Seems to think you do.”

Rafe looked back to you swiftly but his expression stayed bored and made of stone, and his eyes went quickly back to Kiara, “Then only they can come in.”

Kie crossed her arms and looked at John B as if asking him a question but he shrugged subtly and she went to look at you, “Okay. We’ll be waiting.”

You stepped forward and Rafe opened the door to just fit you through, although you had to duck underneath his arm to get through the threshold. He smelled nice, you’re sure like some expensive cologne he owned, and it wafted close to you as you passed him almost enveloping your senses.

When he shut the door you heard John B yell something through the door that sounded a lot like, “No funny business you two!” And then something like Kie smacking him on his head.

———————————

Rafe led you to the living room, to the same couch on which you had talked to him the night before. But he stayed standing, leaning himself against the wall watching you. You couldn’t tell if he wanted you to sit down so you stayed standing opposite him and crossed your arms in an act to do something with your limbs. It seemed like he was telling the truth about not drinking much, he had been up early to golf and seeing him now he had the same glow around him that came with Cameron sobriety.

“So…” You started, looking at him expectantly. 

“Why are your friends here?” He asked, looking stern and unmoving. The house was more quiet than you remembered in your past kook years and it unnerved you a bit. When you had been friends with Sarah there was always laughing, always the three of you, and the house didn’t seem so big. But occupying the new space there again was the feeling you had, pulling you towards Rafe Cameron, as if it filled the emptiness. It buzzed inside your bones and all of a sudden all you could think about was kissing him again as if this feeling was controlling your every thought. Because you wanted to. You wanted to forget about your friends outside and “kooks vs pogues” and just kiss Rafe Cameron because you could. Because you had, and you weren’t ready to give that up. 

You were staring at his lips when Rafe spoke again, causing you to jolt back up to his blue eyes. “I didn’t think one kiss would have you running off to your friends so fast, Y/N.”

There was a hint of familiarity in his words that awakened your senses back to normal, something that reminded you of the old Rafe when he would tease you and Sarah. You shrugged, “They just want the hat and then they’ll leave.”

“Will you leave?” Rafe prompted harshly, stepping a foot closer to you and away from the wall. His eyes were cloudy and you couldn’t see beyond his intentions. You wanted to believe that he wanted you there. That you could stay. Spend a real day with Rafe away from everyone. 

It took a second for you to decide on your words, but when you did they came out easily, “You invited me, I planned to stick around.” You crossed your arms again after you spoke, a little uneasy in standing your ground. “Now where’s JJ’s hat?”

“Always sticking up for Maybank, Y/N. It’s really hard for me to believe you don’t have a thing for him.” As he spoke he walked towards one of the linen closets and waved you towards it. His words, you knew, were an insult coming from his mouth, but it barely bothered you. JJ and you were very close, as you were with all the pogues. Even John B had once mentioned the two of you becoming a couple. But it was odd it was something Rafe noticed. Then he spoke again, nodding you towards the closet, “Kept it nice and pretty for you.” His tone was a little condescending, but otherwise not laced with malice like you had expected.

You made a face at Rafe and walked over to the closet and when you opened the door there it was. You didn’t want to admit that his comment of ‘Kept it nice and pretty’ was actually accurate as it rested nicely on some fresh white towels. No gasoline stains or smells and no tears in it (as your imagination had led you to believe). It was sitting plainly in the closet. “Why is it-” You started.

Rafe was by your side the minute you spoke, sparing little distance between the two of you. “Didn’t want anyone to see it.” There were doubts to this comment, but you didn’t poke at them. His friends were casually showing up at Tannyhill most days, and even Sarah would’ve asked questions about Rafe having JJ’s hat in his possession.

“And I assume you didn’t want JJ’s hat ‘tainting’ your perfect room. Pogue paraphernalia would never dare to disrupt the King of the Kook’s room.” These words dripped with sarcasm, a usual tone in the Chateau, and it alarmed you that you were making playful remarks at the kook in front of you instead of plainly insulting him. 

Rafe ignored your joke, and slight jeer at him, and glanced at your lips a little too quickly. “Is this a confession that you’ve been thinking of my room, Y/N?”

You stepped back, trying to keep your composure, “No,” You grabbed the hat and pushed through Rafe to make your way back to the front door. You spoke this time now facing away from the kook, and slightly waving him off with the hat in your hand, “According to you, I should be fantasizing about JJ’s room.” Then you added quickly, “If anything.”

Before Rafe could catch up with you, you had already opened the door. Kie and John B fell hard onto the entryway’s hardwood floors as you swung the door open. It was obvious they had been leaning against the door when it had been closed. Either listening or resting against the doorway. Probably listening. You let it go, since you figured they had a right to be a little nosey. When you had opened the door quickly, the two pogues had fallen with a thud and now opened their eyes to you looming over them. “Got the hat.” You said cheerfully to your friends laying on the floor, waving the hat from your fingertips into their view. 

It seemed too easy. Too nice of Rafe to not burn up JJ’s hat in anger at the pogues. They’ve had enough squabbles for that to be possible. But there it was in your hands, and here you were ready to get it back to its owner as if nothing had ever happened. 

A part of you hoped that maybe that hat hinted at something softer in Rafe. The Rafe who might have liked you. Seen you care, and then cared in tandem. It didn’t seem like something he would do, and yet you wanted to hope. 

Kiara grabbed it from your hands and sat up, leaving John B to nurse his head while still laying pathetically on the floor. “Mission accomplished,” Kiara praised, a little in spite of herself and then looked annoyingly down at John B. “Get up, JJ’s probably already at the Chateau.”

At first John B didn’t move but only offered up both of his hands, and after a round of Kiara calling him pathetic you both helped him up. He was a lot heavier than he looked and Kiara kept calling him names but eventually you both got the boy standing upright. Rafe stood watch as you and Kiara struggled, not offering any help because either he knew it wouldn’t be received or he didn’t want to. Both you and Kiara made sure to send an unpleasant face his way but he just shrugged and looked smug. It was quick going after that as you all knew JJ could stay out on the ocean all day, but he wouldn’t as he had a shift at the country club. So there was a small window of him noticing it was gone and your friends being able to retrieve it back to him. 

As John B and Kiara were making their exit they turned back to you, as you had stayed in the entrance to Tannyhill. Kiara called back encouragingly and a bit hopefully, “You coming, Y/N/N?” John B looked more like he knew your answer already and gave you a little nod back towards yourself, and additionally towards Rafe who he could see standing beyond you. You could feel it again, that buzzing, that pull…whatever it was. It was here. And you wanted it. You wanted to feel it. You wanted to fall into it. And as always, it was radiating off of Rafe who was standing a few feet behind you. And now that you were here you were more than aware of his presence.

“No I’m okay, tell JJ I had to go home for the day.” You looked back behind you, catching a glimpse of Rafe again leaning up against the wall and watching you. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You waved to your friends, although Kiara looked a little unconvinced of your safety at the Kook residence, but she got into the Twinkie all the same and drove away (mostly after John B gave her a little nudge and not after she gave Rafe the finger). 

You turned around and closed the door.

__________________________

The minute you closed the door, no longer supervised, you felt the pull become stronger. It felt odd to be alone with him. You hadn’t spent this much time with the Kook since your days of being friends with his sister. Him just standing a few feet from you  felt intimidating. A beat of silence passed between the two of you as Rafe took you in.

You prayed he couldn’t hear your quickened heart beat.

“About last night-” You started, playing with the choker Kie had let you borrow. 

Rafe was suddenly moving towards you until he was a couple inches away. Subconsciously he took a small step back, but not quite big enough to give you any actual space to have your own thoughts. His eyes were suddenly harsh but when he spoke it was rushed and quiet, “If you’re going to say it was a mistake-”

You opened up your mouth to speak but he interrupted you before you could. “I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

Part of you wanted to be truthful, that you agreed. That you wanted more of him. But when you opened your mouth again, something else came out. “What?” Nerves got the better of you. This Rafe wasn’t one you were familiar with yet. The one clear with his feelings. Clear with feelings towards you.

That step that he took to separate the two of you was a distance you wanted to sever. And now, subconsciously hating that distance, you took a step forward towards the boy so close to you, and yet it still felt too far. You could practically feel the heat from his body and the breath coming evenly from his mouth and nose on your cheeks. Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave yours. Didn’t even look down to check you out, though he easily could. “Do you want me to say it?” Rafe questioned, leaning towards you a little more, wanting clear in his eyes so locked with your own.

Heat flooded into your cheeks, and you knew he was pretending not to be pleased at the sight. You wanted desperately to kiss him. To stop this pathetic excuse of talking. But you also did want him to say it. To soothe your mind about his intentions. “A little,” you said, trying to keep your voice as even as his. 

“You don’t think I want you?” Rafe chided, turning his head slightly to the side with a smirk. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I think you do and you don’t want to admit it.”

And then, with Rafe’s face twisted slightly in confusion, you closed the gap between the two of your bodies and pulled him close to you. You didn’t want to hesitate anymore, you wanted to dive in. His body reacted, even in his small state of shock at your words, and he melted slightly into you as you kissed, his arms immediately wrapping around you and pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. It was wanting. Wanting each other. Wanting more. Wanting this. His body was warm, so much warmer than you were, and he felt sturdy. Safe somehow. More stern than other people you’d kissed. Your hands found their way up to his hair and it was unsurprisingly soft, you used it to pull him closer to you. He happily obliged to your touch.

You could tell he urged to touch you anywhere he could, but his hands stayed protectively on your back and waist as if holding you was enough for now. They felt nice there, as if you belonged in his embrace. There was something in him holding back and you wanted to let it loose. To scream that he could do what he wanted. You tried to urge that in the kiss, but you let it stay safe.

And then a breath of air, the two of you wanting to breathe but not wanting it to end. When you both detached your hands were on either of his face, cupping him there in a soft touch. And then there were his words, so easily misinterpreted, “Do you want to go up to my room?”

____________________

You had passed Rafe Cameron’s room many times. Laughing with Sarah as you gossiped in the hallway on your way to her room. Knocking on it to remind him to come down for dinner with his family when you were invited over. You remember exactly where it was, but you let Rafe guide you up the stairs with his hand in yours which felt so warm you wished you could bottle his warmth to keep with you when you were cold. His palm burned in your hand as it pulled you along.

The door was closed, just as you remembered, but he opened it easily as he pulled you back onto him and into the unfamiliar space. There was no time to observe what he put on his bedside table or what books he liked to read because Rafe was on you, springing you onto the bed and met you with another kiss there. This time, however, his hands moved along your body and slid along your curves. You were there with him, matching his energy as you urged to tug off the t-shirt he was wearing. 

Kie had been right. You had wanted this. For longer than you even let yourself believe. 

And suddenly you felt a little guilty that you hadn’t seen it before. That you doubted Kiara would support you. That you had waited this long. Because for a second, this felt overwhelmingly right. Right enough that all that time that had passed where this had not happened felt like a waste.

A short breath of air as Rafe pulled off his shirt and leaned down to kiss you again. The quick second he was away from you, the pull you had begun feeling reappeared but this time it was intoxicating and welcoming and pleasurable all at once, and it begged you to bring him back down for another long kiss.

“Wait-” You said, short of breath and flushed in your cheeks. 

Rafe stopped, even though you hadn’t expected him too, and loomed over you expectantly as his body heat encapsulated you in warmth, “What?” He replied, sounding a little annoyed.

“I just-” You paused, pushing a small lock of hair from his face and brushing your hand against his face. He seemed to suddenly freeze at your touch, as if it was too intimate for him. The world honestly could’ve stopped right there for you, just looking up at him. But then another thought came into your mind. “Is this what you had in mind for a date?” You questioned, confusion and annoyance mixing into one now that you remembered what he had said on your short phone call earlier in the day. 

Rafe rolled off of you and onto the bed that was unoccupied on your right and let out a small huff, “No.” Was all he said. He didn’t move to fetch his shirt that was now discarded on the floor. 

All you had to do was turn your head to look at him, so you did, and he was staring at his ceiling fan with his eyebrows knit together. His own face was also a little flushed and you wanted to touch his cheek again to see if his own warmth was magnified there. “I don’t want to be a hookup Rafe.” Was what you replied. 

Rafe turned his head, his face still stern and unreadable, while little strands of his hair falling into his eyes as he did so, and calmed a single piece inside of you that thought you were being played by the eldest Cameron, “We have a reservation at the Island Club this evening.”

“What?” A little shock went through you as you sat up at his confession. You were going to be seen in public while having dinner with Rafe Cameron. As your first date. An actual date. Did he bring every girl to the Island Club on their first date? You didn’t think he did, you’d never heard that before anyways. He was casual, you’d seen him date girls his dad wanted him to. But even when you were at the Island Club with your family, you’d never seen a girl on Rafe’s arm or at the Cameron’s table other than his sisters. This was something bigger, and here he was saying it.

“Do you not want to go?” Rafe asked, rubbing his eyes, still laying on his back.

You looked down at the boy, “I’m just surprised. I was about to have sex with you.”

“You were surprised you were going to have sex with me?” 

“No. Rafe. It’s just- This is all very confusing.”

That made Rafe sit up to meet your eyes at a clear level. “Y/N.”

“I was just about to go against everything and become a hookup and here you are saying we have this reservation-” You ached to touch him again, but the inches between the two of you on the bed felt like it was growing with each second. 

Rafe interrupted you, “Do you think it was Sarah’s idea to invite John B to the party last night?” 

This threw you off for a second. 

“Yes?” You phrased this as a question, but it seemed obvious to you that it was Sarah’s decision.

“When she asked, I told her she could invite him hoping his friends would come. Hoping you would come.” Rafe’s face stayed stoic and his chest moved evenly, but what he said didn’t sound confident like he usually did. It sounded like it was the truth, behind a wall he didn’t want to let down.

“But you hate pogues.” Rafe looked at you like you were stupid until you realized what he was saying, “You sat next to me on purpose.”

This time Rafe raised his eyebrows in annoyance, “It took awhile for Maybank to leave you the fuck alone, that’s for sure.”

A beat of silence as you went through the night before. 

“What if I didn’t come? What if I didn’t like you?” You wanted reassurance because you did like him. More than you wanted to admit. You wanted to ignore your differences and all of Rafe’s past shit and just be.  You wanted him to say it. 

Rafe dodged your questions with a response of his own, holding eye contact with you. “You aren’t a hookup, Y/N. Okay? Does that answer your question?”

For a split second you had to process. As if this was information you hadn’t quite gotten a hold of just yet. But there it was. Rafe Cameron actually liked you. He was closed off, sure, but this was his way of saying it. Of saying he would’ve tried harder. How many times had you seen him pick up food at The Wreck when you were there? Especially when you know he knows that it’s part pogue institution. Or out of the corner of your eye when you visited JJ at the Island Club? Or trying to talk to you at last year’s Midsummer's but Kiara kept butting in and pulling you away?

“Yes,” You said, moving a little closer to the boy. “It does.” Your heart was pounding. You did want to have sex with Rafe. Maybe not now. Maybe not even on your third date. But you wanted to. You wanted there to be a third date. You wanted to like him. 

You touched his face and moved on top of his lap, “Kiss me again.” You whispered close enough so only he could hear.

And he did.

☆taglist: @totallynotkaibiased @asimpwriter @kriss-harrington @parkershoco @sarahlizzie @craftyalmondghostflap @siriuslysmoking @igotmajordaddyissues @strngtsblog @fangirlfree @slvtherinseeker

[taomyou]

a sip of sunshine - chapter one (B)

!! minors dni !! pairing: levi ackerman/reader word count: 20,191 sypnosis: Life is not easy, and Levi’s made peace with the fact that it never will be. And, yet, as the days pass and he comes to enjoy the company of the baker across town, he learns that the sun will always continue to shine, no matter how unworthy he feels to bask in its warmth. - or, Levi learns to be okay with drinking shitty tea. tags: postcanon, canon universe, birthday, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, found family, survivor guilt, eventual romance, eventual smut, character study, grumpy/sunshine, hurt/comfort, bakery, tea, meet-cute, no y/n, pov levi ackerman, not beta read a/n: no smut in this chapter, will be in chapter two. also sorry this took a while to crosspost www. this chapter is also being broken up into two parts because it exceeds the text limit, this is the SECOND half (,,>﹏<,,) accompanying playlist || ao3

chapter one: white peony beauty, bashfulness | shame, apology

There’s not much said, only instructions from you to him.

“Could you hand me the butter? It’s at the back of the fridge, on the left.”

“Could you pass me the sugar?”

“Could you preheat the oven for me? 180, please.”

“Can you hold this for me? I’m sorry.”

The air is neither sociable nor somber, only still as he moves in tandem with you. He’s careful not to spill, not to slip, not to speak too harshly, and you keep your eyes downturned as you work, mixing and sifting and measuring.

You have a smile on your face whenever he glances over to look at you, but it doesn’t reach your eyes in the way he knows. 

After you put the batter into the oven and the ganache is in the fridge and Levi’s gathered all the sugar and water and butter and eggs and vanilla you need for the frosting, you and him are stood on opposite sides of the same counterspace, neither of you daring to look up.

Your eyes are kept down as you slowly pour hot sugar syrup onto egg yolks, arms tense as you mix, switching back and forth as you tire of the other. There’s the sound of the whisk hitting the sides of the bowl, a scraping of metal on metal, but the kitchenette is still dead silent as you start to add in cubes of butter and continue to mix.

It becomes too much for him, and he gets up, careful not to hit you as he sneaks behind you. He goes to the sink, full with bowls stained with chocolate and spatulas made of rubber, and he turns on the water. As the water continues to run and he continues to scrub at streaks of batter left behind, he hears the sound of metal on metal stop, and he looks over his shoulder to see you looking at him already, your hands still.

You smile at him, “Thank you for washing the dishes. You don’t have to.”

Of course he has to.

“I know that.”

“And you’re still doing them.”

He looks back down briefly and puts a sieve in the drying rack. “Yeah.”

Your smile reaches your eyes, finally, and you laugh, shaking your head as you look back down and mix slowly. “Sorry I’m so quiet, I don’t really know what to talk about.”

“That’s okay. Me neither.”

You hum and tap your whisk on the edge of the bowl, getting off the excess of buttercream. “What’s she like?”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

Levi quiets, going back to looking at the sink and watching how the water splashes against the metal basin. “Was like.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay.”

Another pause.

“Are you okay making a cake for a dead woman?”

“She’s still your mother, isn’t she?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then, there’s your answer.”

The oven beeps, telling you that the cake has finished baking, so you tap your whisk against the rim of the bowl and hand the dirtied utensil to Levi, who puts it into the sink. You put on a pair of cloth oven mitts, take out the cake, and set it on the counter to cool.

Levi rinses the leftover frosting from the whisk before bringing the sponge to it. “Did you still want to know about her?”

You take off the mitts and put them back in the crevice of the oven handles. “If you don’t mind telling me. If you don’t want to, I get it. I hardly know anything about you to begin with.”

“Yeah.” Levi holds the whisk under the water, washing the soap away. “I don’t know anything about you, either.”

“All the more reason to talk now, I guess,” you say, taking the bowl of cream you’d just made and opening the fridge to cool it alongside the cake and other parts. “I’m going to take a break on the couch. Sit with me?”

He knows he shouldn’t.

He knows he’s already in too deep, and that knowing you—you knowing him—is the last thing he needs.

But, looking over at the drying rack, full with kitchenware and other miscellaneous appliances he doesn’t know the names of, he thinks that…

Maybe, he can do it.

He can know you, and that will be enough.

To know you, in the moments you’re together, and to forget you when you’re not.

He’ll keep you away during the night, when he’s at home alone and sat at his dining table with nothing but a cup of his tea. He’ll keep you away during the mornings, when the sun has gone so deep into sleep that he has no choice but to see the darkness of the lives lived past.

The last two moons will not have gone by for naught—they’ll remind him to keep his distance, but in the ways his soul demands to be hidden.

He can allow himself this, at the very least.

To know you, in the moments you’re together.

He puts the whisk, now cleaned and glimmering underneath afternoon sunlight, onto the drying rack, letting it drip dry, and he nods, walking over to join you on your couch.

When he’s sat enough, the plush of the cushions flush against his skin, he clears his throat. “What do you want to know?”

“About you, or about your mother?”

Levi isn’t prepared to talk about himself.

“Her.”

“That’s not really up to me to decide,” you muse, stretching out your tired arms. “Whatever you have to say about her, I guess.”

He finds quickly that a lot about her, tells of him.

“Well, she’s dead.”

“I’ve gathered that much. I’m sorry, by the way. When did she pass?”

“I was a child when it happened. Don’t really remember much besides her face.”

And the feeling of sitting alone on the floor, waiting for her to wake up again.

And the feeling of putting her clothes over his, trying to feel her warmth again.

And the feeling of his hair, long and covering his eyes because she hadn’t gotten the chance to trim it sooner.

He doesn’t get much chance to think of her, but in spite of the years which’ve passed, he remembers too much.

Yet, still not enough.

“I’m sorry. Must’ve been hard growing up without her.”

“It was.”

. . .

“Is there anything else?”

“Not really,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Does that make me a bad son?”

“From the way you talk about her, I can tell you love her dearly. That’s more than enough.”

“Maybe.”

. . .

“You have her face, don’t you?” You ask after some pause.

His breath halts. “What?”

Where’s this coming from?

“I don’t know, you just seem like someone who’d look like their mother.” You shrug. 

Levi remembers his mother as far more graceful than he ever could be, so he can’t really be the judge of that.

Again, “maybe.”

. . .

“We’re not that great at talking.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

You chuckle, and Levi feels a greater shift in weight as you sink in further, bringing your legs up and putting your knees to your chest. “Okay, then. How about we take turns asking each other about things?"

Easy enough.

“I’m fine with that.”

“You can ask first. You already told me something.”

What is there to know?

“What’ve you been doing, since you aren’t running the bakery right now?”

“I have enough money saved up to get by for a while, so I’ve been taking a bit of a break before I get things back in order,” you muse. “Still baking, obviously. Don’t really know what else to do with my time.”

“No hobbies?”

“No, not really any time for that when you run a bakery. There’s a little field for all the tenants in the building, so I garden there when I can, but that’s about it. I’m pretty boring.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’m just as boring,” he says plainly. “Your turn.”

“You already told me, but do you really do nothing with your day?”

“Yeah. Just the normal shit like gardening, cooking, cleaning.” A pause. “I go out sometimes. Go to see old friends, or they’ll come to my place. Help out around the house, have dinner.”

“That sounds nice. You live in a house?”

“Yeah, on the other side of town.” Another pause. “How long have you lived here?”

“A long time. Fifteen years, give or take. I opened the bakery a year after. What about you? In your house, I mean.”

He counts. “Almost four years, not too long.”

“Not from here?”

“Something like that,” he says, looking over and out through the window. “Do you like it here?”

“It’s alright, I don’t really mind it. The people are nice, weather’s good,” you yawn, soaking in sun as you stretch lengthwise. “As long as I have my bakery, the rest is irrelevant.”

He won’t comment on the fact that, right now, underneath the two of you, there’s a barren eating area and display case that’s destroyed.

“Do you?” You ask.

“Do I what?”

“Do you like it here?”

 “It’s nice enough. Haven’t explored much, but I’m content.” He thinks of the sky, the sea, the earth. “I hate the birds, though.”

“Oh? How come?”

“...I just hate them.”

You giggle, bringing up your hand to your face. “Fair enough, they are pretty annoying. At least you’ve got a bakery you can frequent on the Wednesdays you feel like doing anything but nothing,” you tease, looking over at him. “Plus, no birds here.”

His eyes meet yours, and he feels a quiet bloom in his heart. “That, I do.”

｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

Along goes the rest of the afternoon, filled with mundane, meaningless questions as such.

It’s surprisingly easy—how conversation flows after the initial awkwardness, knowing that conversation is happening purely with the intention of knowing as much as possible, in as little time as possible. It’s a catching-up on lost time, and a surprising rekindling of the level of comfortability which’d existed and quietly bloomed in the months spanning before this.

It’s not a lot, but it’s enough.

He learns that you always have a cup of tea in the morning, never at night, because you know you’ll have to get up early and can’t afford to miss out on any sleep.

You learn that he refuses to let anyone else clean his bathroom, because he knows that they aren’t going to do a good enough job anyway, and it’s a waste of cleaning solution to have someone do it half-assed.

He learns of how your bakery came to be, how you’d struggled to find investors when you were younger and eventually just decided to take out a loan and hope for the best.

You learn of Gabi and Falco formally, and how they’d gotten dirt on the floorboards of his house yesterday because they were too eager to come inside and show him the centipede they’d caught from the garden.

At some point, you have to get back up on your feet to assemble and decorate the cake, and although there isn’t much that Levi can necessarily do to help, he stands on the other side of the counterspace and watches as you work.

“What kind of cake is this?” Levi asks, speaking softly to not disturb you as you make careful cuts along the lines you mark on the sponge.

“It’s called an opera cake.”

An opera cake? Like, those fancy singers?

He supposes it’s fitting. His mother used to sing him goodnight, all those years ago.

But, still, “I don’t think I’ve seen it before in your display.”

“I don’t sell it in the bakery,” you say, pulling away your knife and turning the sponge to get the next side. “I hate making it.”

“Then why are you making it right now?”

“...It’s the fanciest cake I could think of.”

“Go figure.”

“Well, I had to pull out all the stops.”

“And why is that?”

You close one of your eyes to get a more accurate look as you start the next cut. “Today is important to you, I can’t have you taking home any ordinary cake.”

. . .

“I appreciate that.”

“I know.” You open both your eyes again and slice a bit faster, still careful not to nip your fingers or chip the stone countertop. “Uh, my turn again. What’s your favorite drink?”

Well, he can’t say it’s tea. He’s gone this long without ever giving up on that white lie.

“Water.”

“How… health-conscious of you. Trying to make it to a thousand-and-one?”

“Shut up.”

You roll your eyes, and you put down your knife. You gently pull away the trimmings of the cake, and you hold out a piece for Levi to nibble on. “Here, tell me what you think.”

He takes it, and he takes a bite. “It’s good.”

“Aw, no ‘this is the greatest thing I’ve ever eaten in my life?’”

“Maybe when it’s put-together, but, for now, no.”

“I never knew you were such a critic,” you sass, turning around and opening the fridge to get something else. “It’s your turn, by the way.”

With your back turned to him, he sees the ribbon in your hair again, and it sways back and forth as you muse to yourself what you’re talking out of the fridge.

“Your ribbons,” he starts, “why do you…”

“Why do I use ribbons all the time?”

Levi nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“Personal question?”

“It’s personal?”

You chuckle slightly, and you turn back to him with the bowls of ganache, buttercream, and coffee in your hands. “It’s a bit of a long story, are you alright listening?”

Levi’s brows furrow.

How could the origin of this trait of yours be that personal?

Again, he nods slowly. “Only if you want to answer.”

“Might as well, right?” You hum, and you reach up to grab a cake board from one of your upper cabinets, and you set that down on some clear space on the counter. “Well, the short story is that my mother was a seamstress, and she’d always sew bows and ribbons onto my clothes when I was a kid because I thought they were pretty.”

“Was?”

“She was a seamstress when she was alive.”

Oh.

“You can ask about her later, if you want.”

Levi nods curtly. “Go on, then. With your… long story.”

You put the slab of cake onto your knife, and you transfer it to the board before turning to grab a spatula from the drying rack and a pastry brush from a drawer. “Long story being that my younger sister was a really sickly child. We were really close, but it was still really hard to see her so sick.”

“That’s tough.”

“Do you have a sister yourself?”

Isabel.

“Yeah.”

“I guess maybe you’ll understand, then,” you take a brush soaked with coffee and run it along the cake. “Anyway, our parents died when I was a teenager, so I had to take care of my sister by myself.

“And I remember her first birthday without them, I got a teddy bear for her. Got it all wrapped up in this huge box, put a ton of bows on it that I got from the store, and I gave it to her as soon as she woke up. I was so excited because I’d just gotten a job as a waitress at a nearby restaurant and finally had the money to do something extra for her.

“And, I don’t know why I didn’t consider it? Maybe because our parents never had the money to get us presents and I’d never really thought about it before, but she just… couldn’t open it. Like, she could peel off some of the tape, but her fingernails were really weak, and she was too drowsy from the medicine to handle a knife if I gave her one to cut it open.”

You grab hold of the spatula again, and  you take a dollop of cream and plop it onto the coffee-soaked layer. “I ended up opening it for her, and she was super happy to have a new friend, but I remember thinking about how my friends from school would talk about how great it was to open presents on their birthdays and tear at the paper, and I felt bad that my sister missed out on that feeling.

“I asked around afterwards to see if anyone had anything else I could try, and the lady who owned the restaurant I worked at showed me how she wrapped presents for her husband who lived in hospice. She’d put a ribbon on the box, and if you pulled on it, it’d just tear off the rest of the paper.

“I used that way of wrapping for my sister when I had the next excuse to get her something—it’s been so long that I don’t remember what day it even was, but she was so happy—and I guess it stuck? I was already kind of obsessed with ribbons to begin with, so I just learned all these ways to tie it, and I’d show her too.” You’ve finished spreading the cream evenly, and go on to put another layer of sponge.

“She died a few years later, I moved on with my life, and now it's just a habit.”

You awkwardly smile. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

It was.

“It’s fine,” Levi says. “Are you doing okay now?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time.” You take your brush again and put on more coffee. “It gets easier, too.”

“What does?”

“Living without people you love. Can you hold this bowl for me?”

“Sure,” he says, taking the bowl of ganache from you, and when you motion for him to tip it slightly, he does. You let a bit of it fall onto the coffee-soaked sponge, and Levi frowns. “Does it really? Get easier.”

“I think so,” you muse. “What other option is there? Being sad forever?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he says softly.

“Everyone’s different, so there’s not really any measure on that sort of thing. But it’s hard to move on if you’re always stuck in the past,” you hum.

What if he doesn’t want to move on?

““You can put that down, now. Thank you.”

“Okay.”

You transfer another layer of cake onto the stack, and then another level of coffee soak, and for the rest of the time you assemble the cake, neither of you speak. What else is there to say after learning something like that?

Though, the inner musings of your grief become louder when, after you take another break and chill the cake in the fridge before you send it off with Levi, you sit at the dining table and slowly unravel a spool of ribbon to start wrapping it up in a box. Levi sits across from you, watching as he usually does as your hands unravel the color and cut strands to lace through the slits.

There’s a faint sad smile that he’s never truly been able to understand before on your face as you carefully set down tape to keep everything in place.

“Oh, shoot! I forgot!” You tug on all the ribbons you’ve just put down, opening the box all over again, and you get up and rush to the fridge to grab something. Levi watches in confusion until you come back to the table with a piping bag, and you steady it in your hands. “Just ‘Happy Birthday,’ right?”

Levi nods, but right before you can put chocolate on chocolate, he interrupts again. “Could you write something else, too?”

“Of course!”

He tells you, and he sits up a bit straighter to peer over the edge of the box as you pipe out the cursive lettering.

Happy Birthday, Mommy

You repackage the box again, needing to cut a few more pieces of fresh tape, and you put it into a cloth bag. And, like those many weeks ago, you move around to the back of Levi’s wheelchair with the cake and a spool of ribbon, and you tie it up onto the handles and secure it in place for him.

You walk him down back through the door from which you’d both came, and after making sure that the cake absolutely will not fall on the commute back (and he's discreetly slipped the proper amount for a cake into the pocket of your apron), you stand up straighter again and hold the door open for yourself, waving goodbye to him.

“Come back again soon, I’ll be waiting for you!”

Can't exactly come back when the bakery isn't... open.

“How soon is ‘soon,’ exactly?”

You lean against the doorframe, looking off and down the street. “I should be open again by the end of the year, maybe?”

The end of the year?

“It’s only May, you need the rest of the year?”

“I guess that isn’t really ‘soon,’ huh?” You halfheartedly jest. “You saw when you passed through, everything's wrecked. Nothing I can really do to reopen quicker, I only have myself to get things back in order.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Huh?”

And with the musings of his heart, he watches as the sun reflects from your eyes, glassy and shining, and he speaks from his soul once more.

“You have me.”

It goes without saying that, to Levi, that means you'll only have him in the moments you're together—in the moments that he's able to give even half of himself to you—but you'll still have him, even if only to rebuild the bakery and the part of your soul that's asking for purpose in the same ways that his is.

He can only hope that it's enough.

｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

In the early summer, the days bleed together, unified only by the long stroke of orange and dandelion yellow across a sky that’s grander than the opera.

Levi, just as he had in the late winter and early spring, returns to the bakery every Wednesday.

Only, instead of coming to have a slice of cake and people-watch for hours on end, he wears shoes with thick soles so he can sweep away broken glass and step over broken wooden tables, and instead of you having a cup of tea next to him, you’re looking through catalogs of furniture to order new chairs and tile for the chipped floor.

And, unlike when he’d been with you in the bakery kitchen that one morning many moons ago, it’s not quiet. Between the crunching of plywood and the flipping of checkbook pages, he continues to learn more about you, and you him.

He learns that you cannot stand the look of white lights, and that you’d much rather work in darkness than be without muted yellow glow.

You learn that he’s very particular about the way he cleans windows, and that he always ties a cloth over the lower part of his face to keep from inhaling dust.

He learns that your nose is especially sensitive to sawdust, so he tries his best to sweep slowly to keep you from sneezing.

You learn he hates, among (many) other things, the smell of mulch and compost, but he tolerates it because Onyankopon insists that the plants need it to grow, and you tell him you can take out the trash at the end of the day while he gets ready to leave.

He learns that your favorite desserts are cannelés, but you hate making them so you don’t sell them in the store.

He’s never had one, nor can he really pronounce it correctly, but he tells you he’ll visit one of the other shitty bakeries in the area to find them for you one day.

You learn that his favorite flavor of the cakes from your bakery is lemon and mint.

You promise to always keep one in the display, just in case he decides to buy one out-of-the-blue when you reopen.

In earnest, it becomes easy for him to let himself fall into the dynamic once more, with even greater grace.

On this particular afternoon in the late summer, you’re standing up on top of a chair, using a paint roller to get the corners of the wall, and Levi’s holding the chair steady like his life depends on it.

“Can you hurry up? The longer you’re up there, the more likely you’re going to fall.”

“You don't think I'm scared of that right now too?! I’m trying, I don’t want it to look too patchy!”

“Who the fuck is going to care if the corner is the same shade of paint?!”

“Me!”

Levi sighs. “Okay, okay, whatever.”

After a bit more struggle from you, you get off your tip-toes and slowly bend down again to get off the chair. With a shaky hand, you try to find the back handle of the chair to hold onto, but Levi just holds his hand out to you to make it easier.

You take it, and he feels a spark.

He ignores it, but you don’t.

“Did you feel that?”

Levi clears his throat and lets go of your hand, as well as the chair leg he’d been gripping onto for dear life. “No.”

And though his heart seems to be stuck in place, you move on quickly and stretch upwards, now looking up at the spot from the ground, and you put down the paint roller onto the tray. “I think we’ve done enough for today.”

“All we did was repaint a singular wall and decide what tables to order,” Levi deadpans.

“Which, I think, is good enough!"

"You haven't even marked the order in your notebook yet. You're gonna forget."

You sigh wistfully. "I'll get to it eventually, just not right now."

“If you’re tired, I can keep cleaning down here. I don’t mind.”

He’d literally just gotten here an hour ago, he is not about to go home and do… whatever else it is that he has to do today.

“Actually,” you start, looking past him and at the door. “I was thinking we could go out and do something today.”

“Like…?”

“I made reservations at a restaurant, but other than that, we’re free to do whatever we’d like. Obviously, I won’t keep you too late, but I was hoping you'd come along."

A reservation?

Levi raises a brow. “What’s the occasion?”

"What're you talking about?"

"A reservation is a bit much for an 'impromptu' outing, so what's the occasion?"

“Today’s the summer solstice!”

Levi wasn't particularly aware, but the sun did seem to be up higher today than usual. “And that’s important because...?”

“What's unimportant about the longest day of the year?"

"Everything."

You laugh, and you go to grab the sunhat you'd brought down to the bakery today. Looking more closely now, you're dressed a bit more nicely than you normally are, in a long sundress and shoes not quite meant for fixing up a storefront still covered in sawdust. "Well, there hasn't really been much to celebrate lately, so we have to make unimportant days like this mean something."

"If you say so," he grumbles. Seriously, what's all that special about the solstice?

"Besides, if the sun is out longer, that means you can stay later than usual today!" By now, you've got your hand on the door, and you tilt your head towards the door. "Do you wanna come, or are you gonna stay and mull over what kind of wood the tables should be?"

"Yeah, yeah, one second," he sighs. "And you know I thought walnut was the best."

"You still had to go through the catalogue, like, three times, before agreeing with me on that!"

He grabs his cane, and he follows you out the door, the brightness of the afternoon assaulting his eyes and forcing him to narrow them for a second. "Whatever, let's just go."

｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

More or less, it's an... interesting time.

You drag him to a restaurant a few streets down, pointing out buildings to him as you pass them by and telling him what they're for. The place isn't all that crowded to begin with, so Levi hardly knows why you'd put in a reservation in the first place, but you seem to be having a decent enough time making small talk with the hostess as she leads you and Levi to a table by an upstairs window. Thank goodness Levi's dressed somewhat appropriately in a black turtleneck sweater and slacks; the people here, even if they look nice enough, are dressed pretty well, and it seems to be on the higher-end of luxury scaling.

It does faintly bring red to his ears to hear that you'd made the reservation for both you and him, being so confident in telling the hostess that the two of you were together. It tells him he's doing enough—enough that you're secure enough to be inviting him at all, and secure in the thought that you have him.

The hostess leaves two menus at the table booth, the two of you now seated across from each other. "Someone will come by to get your order soon!"

"Thank you!"

The both of you grab a menu for yourselves, and Levi frowns when he sees the prices. "Why is everything here so fucking expensive?"

You hum, flipping to the next page. "Don't worry about it, I got it covered."

"You paying for me is worse than us just running out before the bill comes."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Who said anything about that?"

"Great, so we really are going to run out on the bill," he sighs, bringing his menu back up to cover his face. Thank goodness he'd brought enough money with him.

After a few moments wherein you and him are reading through them, you pull down Levi's down to make eye contact with him. "And you can't just choose the cheapest thing on the menu and hope that I won't know that's what you're doing."

"You can't stop me from ordering the," he scans the page, "children's bowl of salad greens."

"Ha, ha, very funny, Levi. Pick anything but that."

"And what if I actually want that? How dare you deprive me of my," he looks back down at the menu, "artisanal assortment of seasonal vegetables, including but not limited to spinach, lettuce, kale, and cabbage."

"Come on, just get what you want! Really, I got it."

Levi sighs. At this point, he knows there's no point in questioning you, even if you aren't making any sense.

A waiter comes by to take your orders, and even though Levi's got no idea what you have cooking up, he orders whatever looks appetizing to him in the moment. The waiter takes away your menus, and you lace your fingers together underneath your chin, leaning forward and looking at him. "So, Levi?"

"What?"

"Do you have to get home early today, or do I get you all to myself until sundown?"

"I don't really have anything to do, so I guess the latter."

"You don't sound all that enthusiastic," you tease, playfully kicking his foot underneath the table. "Tired of me already?"

"I never said that," he deadpans. "You know how I talk by now, you know what I mean."

"Just poking fun at you," you smile. "Is there anything you wanna do for the rest of the day after we eat, then?"

"How should I know? I hardly ever go out."

"Would you mind following me around all day?"

No.

"Aren't you already dragging me around?"

You chuckle. "Yeah, you're right, sorry about that. I probably should've asked you earlier if you wanted to do anything today."

"It's fine, I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I trust that you know your way around this place better than I do, anyway."

"Probably, but I don't have any ideas of what to do for the rest of the day, so I guess we'll just go where the wind takes us."

"Sounds good enough."

The waiter returns with two glasses of water, and you tap your cup against his in cheers before taking a sip. "Got any plans for this week?"

This is a pretty routine question, with an equally routine response.

Levi shrugs, reaching over to pull his glass closer to him. "Nothing much. The wind has been a pain, so I have to redo some of the fencing around my house tomorrow."

"Aw, at least the heat hasn't been too bad this year, so it can't be that bad to be working outside. Are Gabi and Falco going to come over to help you?"

"Yeah, but I know they only wanna help so they can force me to get ice cream for them afterwards," he sighs.

You smile. "They're just kids, you can't blame them."

He rolls his eyes. "I can if they do a shit job."

"Well, if they don't do a shit job, I can show you this ice cream parlor down the road later! It's good, I used to go there a lot. Maybe you can take them there."

"Maybe," he takes a sip of water. "Is it expensive like everything else is around here?"

"It's a decent price, I wouldn't worry about it," you wave him off. "Doing anything else?"

"You know as well as I do that I'm boring as shit, so no. You?"

You hum, looking off and out the window. "I have to go and collect bank statements before the weekend, but that's about it."

"That's it?"

You roll your eyes with a smile. "Are you the only one allowed to be boring?"

"You just seem more productive than boring."

"Normally, you'd be right, but I can't bring myself to really get anything done right now."

He doesn't need to ask why that is, but he follows your gaze outside and hums in affirmation. "Not judging you."

"I know."

You and him sit in silence for the rest of the lunch spent, only making brief comments about the random happenings you can see through the window. There's a bird that chases after a teenager for a loaf of bread, a fountain that spits water in the center road, a couple of kids who fall into said fountain. When the food arrives, Levi feels slightly uneasy because you still haven't told him what's happening with the payment situation, but as soon as he takes his first bite of the dish, he just lets himself forget about what you're plotting because it's too good to be worrying himself over. You eat in similar quiet, only once asking if he likes his meal, but it's an easy quiet. One that's familiar, that'd been present in the simpler days where you and him would only spend time in each other's company people-watching.

The both of you finish your food with similar-enough speed, and the waiter takes away both your plates before you yawn and stretch out your arms and legs. "I'll be right back, going to the bathroom," you say, sliding out of your side of the booth.

Levi nods, and he looks down into his glass of water once you're out of view. The ice practically refuses to melt, clinking against the sides of the cup as he rocks it back and forth, but it isn't really all that long before you return. He raises a suspicious brow at you, really doubting that you'd gone to the bathroom at all, but before he can question it, there's a small ensemble of wait staff around your table, and a slice of cake is placed in front of him with a lit candle on it.

"Happy birthday, sir!" They all chorus.

"Happy birthday, Levi!" You cheer.

Levi blinks, looking dumbfoundedly at the candle that flickers in front of him. "What? It's not my birthday."

Levi then looks across the table at you, who's got your hands together in thanks, a grin plastered on your face. "Thank you! Sorry, he's just shy."

"No worries! We'd still love to give you a discount for this special day."

Is this your idea of getting the meal "taken care of?"

Good lord.

"Would you like to be sung to, sir?"

Fuck no.

"No, thank you."

You snicker from behind your hand, and after the wait staff (and the rest of the people in this fucking restaurant) wish him another happy birthday, Levi kicks your feet underneath the table again. You yelp, but you burst into laughter as he continues. 

He hisses your name under his breath. "I cannot believe you said it was my birthday!"

"Come on! It's all in good fun, and we get a discount!"

"How is this fun? What if I wanted to celebrate my actual birthday here someday?"

"Don't worry, I thought that through!"

He groans into his hands. "I don't even want to know, but I probably should."

"Well, this is practically the halfway point between your birthdays, so this is the perfect time for you to be pretending it actually is because the employees will have six months to forget!"

Ugh, he hates that that makes sense. "I'm never going anywhere with you again."

"You already agreed I get you for the day, so you can't really say that," you laugh. "You should probably blow out your candle before the wax melts into the cake, though."

He sighs, and he brings his hands away from his face to blow the flame. You clap excitedly, as does the table directly next to you, and Levi sinks back into his seat. "Let's get out of here."

"Not gonna enjoy your birthday treat?"

Levi rolls his eyes. "Why, do you want it?"

"I'm alright, I'm too full."

"Well, I doubt it's better than anything you could make, so I don't really want it either."

"Can I have it, mister?" A young boy from the table behind him asks, popping up from behind Levi's seat.

His parents shush him, but Levi just gently plucks off the burnt-out candle and hands the plate to the kid from over the divider. "Sure, happy birthday."

You smile as you watch the exchange, but before you can tease Levi for his soft spot, he gets up from his side of the booth and pulls you up to leave with him.

At least he gets the one-up on you when he forces you to let him to pay for the both of you himself, even if it isn't nowhere as much as it should be if it weren't "his birthday."

When you and him exit the restaurant and Levi's left once again at your mercy, the first order of business is you showing him all the ice cream shops up-and-down the streets. You pull him along as best as you both can go, which admittedly isn't all that fast, but Levi still feels a breeze as he walks alongside you and through crowds of people going about their day. Even though you'd said you only knew of one place, it turns out that the whole town is riddled with seasonal ice cream shops that are jumping at the chance to take advantage of the sunniest day of the year.

You sweet talk each and every one of those employees into giving you and Levi free samples far bigger than they should be (it certainly does help that you tell all of them that you're celebrating a birthday), but after the third time you pull it off, Levi just goes along with it and gently knocks at the back of your knees with his cane once you're safely away and onto the next parlor.

With the sun high in the sky and only a gentle zephyr to carry the scent of summer flowers, it feels like the perfect time to be having ice cream, and even if Levi doesn't really have the heart to tell you he doesn't have a favorite flavor for himself, he enjoys the flavors that you pick out for the two of you so that you can try to guess.

He also tries his best to ignore the twinkle in your eye when you inevitably change samples with him and indirectly kiss, but it's hard to miss the way your smile reaches your eyes as you walk merrily alongside him and muse your joy, completely obvious to the gentle sunshine reflecting from the ribbon in your hair.

At some point, though, the both of you tire of eating so much ice cream, and you find yourselves walking along a strip of small shops facing a stretch of sea he didn't know was even here, shadows following you and telling Levi it's been a few hours since having first gone out. You're at the edge of the town, neither of you having quite ventured so far before, so there's no sense of direction other than where the weathervane points.

"What's next to do?" Levi asks.

"What, you don't wanna try more ice cream?"

"You said you were tired of it not even three minutes ago."

"That's me! What if you wanted more?"

"I'm good, thanks," he says plainly. "And I doubt we'll come across any more shops. We've been at this for hours now."

"Don't say that, this is important!"

"Sure it is," he rolls his eyes. "But, still, where are we going? I have no idea where we are."

"You and me both," you hum. "I don't know, see anything interesting here?"

Levi looks up to see the overhanging signs, lined up neatly at the upper edge of his vision. There's what looks like clothing stores and other small shops, none of which catch his eye, but after a bit more walking, he hears a halt in your step next to him and turns to look back at your form still stood three steps behind.

In the window you're looking through is a cake, put up on display against the glass.

A kid with a chocolate roll in his hands runs past you and towards the other side of the street, drawing your attention to this bakery's doors where people come in and out, arms full with pastries and other things you'd also made when you were still opened. The smell of summer berries and brûléed vanilla sugar are carried by the now-strong summer wind, and Levi's eyes catch sight of yours looking at the sign hung from the awning. The skirt of your sundress billows in the breeze, the fabric undoubtedly irritating the skin around your ankles, but you remain standing there, half-stood between walking forward and backwards.

And he's filled with sadness, watching you as the sun overhead mockingly casts down light onto your figure.

It isn't a tragedy for there to be another bakery here, he knows that. It's a good distance away from yours, and there's hardly any reason to be upset that people are able to get their fill of sugar and spice. There's enough room for everyone to do well for themselves, and he knows the look in your eyes isn't that of jealousy, and the longing therein is not for the height of success this place seemingly has. Even if you'd been envious, he wouldn't blame you. He's competitive in his own right, and perhaps if it'd been under different circumstances, he'd scoff at you and tell you that there's no way this place has better scones than yours.

But the windows have no curtains, and the glass on them is whole. The door isn't locked shut, nor is there a sign hung on it saying it's unsure of when it'll open again. The display case is unshattered, there's a light illuminating whatever's in it. The chairs are filled with people, and the paint of the walls don't need to be redone. Whoever owns this place doesn't spend their afternoons sprawled out on a freshly-dusted table that's the only piece of unbroken furniture left, but, rather, with patrons who praise their craft and line their pockets with petty cash and loose coins.

And all those things together explain the frown that's settled on your features, out-of-place and pulling at the strings of his heart.

So, he does what he has to.

Levi grabs your hand, his cane held half-firmly in the palm of his other hand, and he pulls you away. He pulls you in the direction of the wind so your hair doesn't get caught in your eyes, and he takes you off-balance just enough to force you to follow his guide.

You ask where you're going.

He has no idea where he's going or how far he's going to travel, but all he knows is that he has to get you away from there. Again, it's not like he can move all that quickly, his legs not necessarily made for running, but he does his best, pain permitting.

So he keeps his mouth shut, only telling you that it's a surprise.

You ask what's wrong, why he's walking so fast.

He knows you aren't going to say anything to let on that you're upset or admit you need to be somewhere else, so he makes up some bullshit excuse about everything here being boring and needing to leave for something less mind-numbing.

You stop questioning things when Levi squeezes your hand, though. He probably should've thought to do that sooner.

The wind directs you both to a bench facing the water, faraway from the bakery and out of the breeze, and by the time and you've both caught your breath back and sat down, Levi's still got a hold on your hand, and you can only stare at the linking of warmth where they meet before looking up to his face.

He can see the overglaze in your eyes disappear as you blink and take in your new surroundings, looking past him now and around the area you've found yourselves in. He does the same, wanting to see the same things you're seeing.

The sky above the water is clear, only colored in the blue he's used to seeing on land. There's blinding glimmer from the sun above, and the sea is as clear as it is cloudy with sand. There's kids playing in the sand, burying their father underneath a layer that'd certainly break if he so much as moved a finger. The birds give Levi another reason to hate them (not that he needs any more, but it's nice to have more justification) because he can only watch in horror as they fly over and steal sandwiches from plates left unattended.

It certainly does look different when the sun is actually out.

He looks over at you occasionally, trying to figure out what the fuck he's meant to say after he's dragged you to this random ass bench in the seeming middle of nowhere for seemingly no reason, but you look content enough, your eyes only focused on where the sky kisses the sea, so he doesn't say anything. He looks down to where your hands are, still connected and with a grip gentle enough for either of you to pull away with easy, but when you don't make any movement away from him, he decides he doesn't want to either.

And the two of you sit like this for a while, just watching as the sun seems to endlessly light the world in front of you.

Yeah.

This is fine.

At some point, however many hours later, you pull your hand away to instinctively cover your mouth to yawn, and Levi knows then that it's about time to head back, no matter how sunny it is outside. He forces you to get up, poking you at the small of your back with his cane until you are awake enough to be aware of your surroundings, and you're suddenly back to yourself, teasing and smiling and walking alongside him with a smile on your face.

The two of you struggle with getting back to your apartment, only able to track yourselves using vague recollections of shop signs you'd both only seen once several hours ago, but after a lot of walking in circles (and a quick detour through a farmer's market to get things to make dinner), you finally find yourselves back at your home, Levi taking the opportunity to prove he's not totally inept in the kitchen. What comes as a result is a meal that you insist is fit for royalty, and you and him eat while speaking half-truths over two more cups of tea that go cold before you can drink one of them.

With nothing else to do but to wait for the full feeling in his stomach to pass, Levi finds himself slumped back on your sofa, his forearm over his eyes, you right next to him with a fresh cup of tea to keep yourself from falling asleep. You're quite tired for someone who always seems so energetic, but Levi supposes that a day like that would wear anyone down. He's still not penchant to sleep, though, even with all the movement of the day, but he does let himself close his eyes while he tries to give himself the energy to take himself home.

"You can just go to sleep, you don't have to stay awake," he says quietly, adjusting his legs to lay a bit more comfortably. "I'll lock the door on the way out, I'll leave soon."

You yawn. "I don't want to sleep yet, it's too early. You sure you don't just wanna stay over again? I won't wake you up at 3 in the morning again to make tea for me downstairs."

"I have to fix the fence with the kids tomorrow, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, forgot."

"I appreciate the offer, though."

"Yeah, of course. You're welcome anytime." You hum before stretching and getting up from the couch. "One second, I'm gonna get something real quick."

Levi nods, and he looks out your balcony's glass doors as he waits. There's still plenty of light out, but it's nearing what's supposed to be evening, so he really ought to go soon. Just as he's about to get up, though, his hands about to push himself up off the seat cushion, you're halfway leaned down in front of him with a cake in your hands.

The two of you make eye contact, and you freeze. Levi's eyes flicker back and forth between your face and the cake, a candle lit in the center. You're silent, stuck in place, so Levi takes it upon himself to break the sound barrier.

"Aren't you going to start singing? It's my birthday, you know."

You blink, and, suddenly, laughter sputters from you, and you tip your head back and look up at the ceiling, careful not to drop the cake. Levi rushes to get up, take the cake from you, and set it on the table, and you fall back onto the couch and cover your eyes from the overhead light with your forearm. The rise and fall of your chest as you laugh and try to catch your breath is too much for Levi to watch, so he looks away and stares at the flicker of the candle as it melts shorter.

"Oh, Levi! You're hilarious!"

"I'm really not," he deadpans. "What's this for, anyway? You know it's not my birthday."

You roll your eyes, leaning forward and turning the cake so that it's faced properly towards yourselves on the couch. "So conceited. Who said anything about it being your birthday?"

"You did, all day-" Levi pauses. He looks at the cake, and there, in icing, are the words Happy Birthday.

If it's not his birthday...

"Gonna sing for me, old man?"

. . .

"Today's your birthday?"

"Yep! What, you thought I'd take advantage of that restaurant without it actually being someone's birthday?"

He frowns. Why hadn't you said anything earlier? The entire day, you'd just gone around telling people that it was his birthday, not yours. It makes a lot more sense that you had a reservation for the restaurant, why you cared so much about the other happenings of today, why you wanted to do something different.

He could've done something. Not that he could've gotten you a cake, really, seeing as you're the one who he goes to when he needs that, but maybe he could've-

"I'm waiting," you singsong, leaning over to nudge his shoulder.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What, so you could get me a cake?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Ah, ah, ah," you wave your finger at him. "You know you aren't gonna win with me, so you can stop with that."

"You still should've told me," he barks. "For fucks sake, it's your birthday."

He's not meaningfully upset, and he knows you know that, but he can't understand why you wouldn't say anything until bringing out an entire fucking cake.

You raise a brow at him, leaning sideways deeper into the couch cushions. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who doesn't care about your birthday all that much, right?"

Okay, well, that might've been true regarding his own birthday, but he's really taken to celebrating for other people's lately, especially with the gradual shift in his attitudes of celebrating things in general. For fucks sake, he's bought, like, twenty cakes from you at this point. You, of all people, know this.

"Okay, and? It's still unfair you spent your day wasting time with me."

You lean your face into your hand. "And it's unfair you've been doing the same with me for the last couple weeks with me, so we're even."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

You roll your eyes. "Come on, Levi, just let me be selfish."

"No, really, what are you talking about? I-" Before he can continue, his eyes drift to the cake (more specifically, to the evershortening candle on it). "Your candle!"

"Oh, right." You tuck a front strand of hair behind your ear before leaning over the table, pausing for a second to make your wish, and you blow out the candle. Your eyes follow the stray smoke as it floats up and dissipates in the air. Levi, though still mildly distraught, claps for you, and you flash him a smile.

You then get up and bring back a knife, two plates, and two forks, and you kneel on the floor in front of the cake while turning it. You'd sat down a bit too quickly, so the ribbon in your hair was brought to the front of your head, so Levi leans forward to pull it back properly and make sure it doesn't get caught on any frosting.

At the feeling of his hands over your hair, you look back at him, and the abrupt movement undoes the ribbon, one end of it held onto by Levi's hand. Levi pauses, unsure of what to do with it, but you only smile at him again before going back to the cake. After a bit more staring at it, you lean to the side to let him see. "That look like a good piece?"

Honestly, he doesn't really know what constitutes a good piece in the first place, but it has a strawberry on it, so he nods, the ribbon still in his grasp. He's still unused to seeing you with your hair down, so he also doesn't really know what to say without sounding like a complete and utter idiot, but you luckily make it easy for him by thrusting a plate with a slice of strawberry cream cake into his hands.

You put down the knife after getting yourself a piece too, and you sink back into the couch happily with a fork between your lips. Levi takes a bite, too, and he wills himself awake to enjoy it properly. He makes no further comments regarding you keeping your birthday to yourself, but when you and him both finish eating, he gets up from the couch and steals your plate from you to do the dishes from this and dinner himself. You try to stop him to no avail, as he threatens to drop the plates to the floor if you try to take them away from him, but you quietly follow him to the kitchenette and sit at the dining table as he turns on the faucet and grabs a sponge, squeezing soap onto it.

He scrubs as quietly as he can, which isn't really all that quiet anyway because the running water is still far too loud, but when he's finally at the point where he can put the sponge down and just wash away bubbles, you yawn again and you look off wistfully, leaning further into your hand as you watch the sun set in the sky.

Well, not really, because it's still very bright outside and the sun is nowhere near actually setting, but it'd ordinarily be around this time anyway, so it feels like it should be.

"Thanks for coming along with me today, Levi. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, I know." He puts a plate onto the rack. "Still don't know why you didn't just tell me it was your birthday."

"I didn't want you to do anything special. You do enough for me as is."

Levi scoffs. "Like washing the dishes is that much work."

You chuckle. "It isn't, but you've been a lot of help. I don't really get much done in the bakery when you're not here."

"You don't?" He thought as much on the front that the storefront doesn't look all that different between the Wednesdays he comes, but he assumed you did other things during the rest of the week by yourself.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't lost sleep over the worry that you'd be alone in the mornings, the time only reminding you of when you used to wake up to start your day down at the bakery, though.

"You can probably read me as well as I read you, right?"

"I doubt it."

"I think you do, since you probably already know this," you muse. "I don't know, it's just hard to do anything on my own about it. It's really overwhelming to think about fixing everything."

"I can imagine," he says, frowning slightly.

There's a brief silence as you get up to get the cake and bring it back to the fridge, and you lean against it as you watch Levi get to wiping dry the rest of the kitchenware.

"Really, Levi. Thank you for coming over so often. I'm sorry I can't give you anything in return."

You think you don't give him anything?

You probably couldn't be any more wrong about that.

"Don't worry about it." He pauses, flicking off excess water on his hands into the sink. "I like being here."

The with you goes unspoken, but he doesn't know if he wants you to know that or not.

Levi turns to look back at you, far closer than he thought you were to him, and he tries his best to match the smile on your face with a softening of his gaze. "Happy birthday."

And maybe because he's already within reach or because you're too thankful for your own good or because the sun has decided he's deserving, you reach out and wrap him in a tight hug, your smile against the skin of his neck as you hold him.

For the first time today, the nagging at the back of his mind is there again, telling him that he's not meant to be held this way. That he's meant to be anywhere else, where the sun is down for as long as he's awake and the sky isn't painted in the same pink that's surely on his face right now.

But, for the thousandth time, he'll ignore that, if only, once more, he can be here with you, to do whatever it is that you wish for, wherever the wind takes you.

And, today, the wind took him to celebrate your birthday with you.

｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

The sweet months that became of the summertime fly by, as does the progression of repairing the bakery storefront, and in the autumn breeze, Levi’s heart soars alongside the leaves. 

Speaking of much, Wednesday is no longer the only day of the week which Levi returns. After that conversation on your birthday, he's found himself with you for far more days than just the meager third day in the week.

Whenever packages of tables and chairs and tile and floorboard get delivered, Levi comes.

Clear is the sound of delivery trucks which come through the road and drop off boxes much too heavy for the both of you alone, so days consist of dismantling parts, getting them inside, and haphazardly putting them back together. The floor's been repaired for a while now and all the debris is gone, so the two of you will sit on the floor with only a single wrench between the two of you to figure it out. It's not the hardest thing in the world to figure out, but between all the empty-hearted fights over who gets to read the instructions and who gets to use the tools, it takes its time to get completed. In the end, though, it's usually Levi with the wrench, you with the instruction manual, and a kiss to the sky to hope that you're both doing everything correctly. In the moments you have to switch roles and your knees start to hurt after having to get underneath the tables to screw in the bottom panels, Levi is quick to go to the kitchen and fetch you some ice before you're even starting to complain.

Whenever ceramics are set to arrive, Levi comes.

They get dropped off in wooden crates at the bakery's front door, and Levi brings them in on his way inside. You take them from him, hold the door open for him to come through, and the two of you fight over whether or not they deserve to be on display or actually used by customers. The rest of the day is either spent with two teacups between the two of you (always one untouched, but that's not necessarily any issue) and a new dessert you're thinking of putting on the menu, or with a newspaper that Levi brings from the market so you can take turns doing the crossword while the other unpacks the shipments of porcelain.

Whenever it's someone's birthday, Levi comes.

It's never quite sat well with him that he's been asking you to make something for everyone he deems deserving of a birthday cake, but after the first time he'd off-handedly mentioned having to attend a celebration, he just tells you because he'd rather you go ahead and have the cake ready than rush to send him off with something before the sun sets. He speaks very briefly about whomever it is that it's for, but you don't demand any information from him, so it goes without saying that it's just someone important, and you're better off just talking about the weather or how Gabi had made fun of (but still tried to copy) the way Levi'd held his tea-, sorry, water cup while they were out on the benches.

His friends have started to wonder where he gets all these cakes from, all ornately decorated and divine to the soul, but all he can say is that you're closed (for now, and that they should all come by when you're reopened to support you however they can; not that he's ever going to admit to bringing in more customers).

Sometimes, though, when the kids ask, he'll bring them with him, and they'll ask you dumb questions about your life over the cupcakes you make for them while Levi gets to putting up new light fixtures.

Levi's happy they seem to really like you.

Well, not really "seem;" they just do. They love asking him questions they're too shy to ask you in the moment when you're there, and even though Levi's usually quick to shut down any accusations of romance or intimacy beyond what's become of his relationship with you, he answers what he can.

Whenever there's too many bundles of carrots left over and he knows he can't eat them before they spoil, Levi comes.

With the summer warmth, there'd been a great harvest this year, and because all the petals had turned to fruit and vegetable in proper time, there were no issues with allergies to keep him from staying out in the open for too long. He's able to harvest more than enough for himself and whomever he can thrust crates of cabbages onto, but he doesn't really know what else to do with the rest besides bring it to you. You take the fruits and put them into tea syrups and cakes, and if he's brought vegetables, Levi, definitively the better cook between the two of you, will come up to your apartment and make dinners to last you until the next time he's planning to come and bring more squash. 

And, still, of course, when it's Wednesday, Levi comes.

There's always something that needs to be done, whether it be cleaning, counting up loose inventory, or finding a new supplier for powdered sugar, so he might as well just continue with the routine that he's not actually supposed to be following. When there's absolutely nothing else to do, Levi sits next to you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and he listens to you explain how the finances work and how the bookkeeping is maintained, two cups of tea in front of you that always go cold. Days spent like that remind Levi that he made the right decision in choosing a life of relative peace in his quaint little house because the stress of having to file every receipt he's ever received would've killed him before he even opened.

Though, he can't deny there's romance in catching you half-asleep and then rushing upstairs to grab a blanket to drape over you, and he can thank the endless rows and columns on numbers marked in your little notebook, written in with ink and doodled in the margins with the same color pen, for that.

But he holds himself steady in the life he's had for the last four years, in spite of the time he now chooses to spend with you.

He still gardens all the same, only real difference now being that he's not absolutely irritated out of his mind every time he has to put on his gloves. He'd almost forgotten the feeling entirely, save for the time when the pale yellow stitch came undone after a particularly lengthy day of raking out weeds, but you'd resewed the slit back together after he'd brought it back to you.

He still sees his friends, seemingly now more than ever with how often they regroup to celebrate birthdays and other anniversaries. Hange's birthday was just last week, and all the kids came together to hold a little gathering at a bar in memoriam, but more than that, they'd met plenty over the summer to exchange food and recounts of new experiences.

He still sleeps in his chair, waiting for the lull of sleep to take him and keep him away from his mind. His inner thoughts have become much quieter, much more muted, but they still haunt him in the ways they're etched into his skin and bone. It feels almost wrong sometimes, how at peace he is when he's done with his day and there's nothing that comes to mind other than what tasks he has for the following day, but he's done a pretty good job at just ignoring the part of himself that taunts him to think too deeply about anything at all.

He still has his tea, boring, bitter, the same as always. There's no desire to deviate in the slightest, even with how hot the summer wind is, and there's no wavering in the lie that he doesn't have tea anywhere but in the safety of his home, under the roof that's never quite felt like his.

But, nevermind the plainness of his life and the relationships therein.

Point being, Levi comes to the bakery often to do the same nothings that occupy the rest of his time.

But, today, it's none of those aforementioned days where there's a new piece of furniture to pick out of a magazine or a new shipment of vanilla sugar to move into containers or a new batch of squash that Levi needs to get rid of or the third day of the week.

When you reopen the bakery, Levi comes.

It's not a grandiose occasion, by any means. Levi comes in only a little earlier than usual (as in, he leaves his home as soon as there's enough sun to make it to you safely), and you let him in as soon as he's there so he can help around while you continue baking and making sure everything's ready for opening. He makes you a cup of white peony tea, only a little less strong than the cup he'd brewed for you his very first night in your kitchen, and you give him a blueberry muffin to snack on while he pours it out for you. He sits quietly, listening as you talk your head off about vanilla sugar and 

The week prior, the two of you had celebrated the final happenings of getting the storefront back together and better than it had been before all this ever happened, and along the ways back-and-forth to a restaurant neither of you care to remember the name of, you and him had plastered reopening flyers all over lampposts and bulletin boards; so, it goes without saying that you're expecting a lot of people to come through and see what's new.

What you hadn't expected, though, was for Levi to volunteer and man the register and front of the house while you kept at the baking and brewing in the kitchen. At this point in the late summer and after so many days spent sprawled out on the floor arguing over prices, Levi knows the menu like the back of his hand, and although he can't personally attest to the quality or flavor profiles of any of the teas, he forces you to accept the help because you're stressed enough just seeing the line outside.

The day goes about as Levi expects it to, though.

Far too many things are bought, far too many cups of tea are delivered to tables made of walnut wood, and far too many people come. He recognizes some of them, but he doesn't really have the time to remember whether or not they were regulars before you had to close because there's just too many people to tend to. The line dies down as the time ebbs and flows, but the kids that come by with their friends don't have enough money to get something for everyone, so Levi has to shoo them away after paying for their things himself.

Soon enough, though, after many hours spent wrapping up pastries and trying to make sure that he's as nice as humanely possible to avoid scaring away any customers, Levi's sat on the couch in your apartment while you answer the door, having just finished sharing a dinner he'd slipped away to make while you tidied up downstairs and counted up the day's earnings.

"Thank you so much! See you tomorrow!" You close the door, and Levi looks over at you now that you're coming back to him, holding a basket thinly veiled in colored cellophane.

"Who was it?"

You sit down next to him after putting the basket on the table in front of you, and you stretch upwards and touch the wall above the couch. "My landlady came by to give us a reopening gift."

"That's nice of her, but did you just say 'us?' As in, including me?"

"She knows you, why's that such a surprise?"

Levi raises a brow, leaning forward to try and look through the plastic wrapping. "She knows me?"

"Yes?"

"I only see her when you send me to the garden to get tomatoes and shit, how does she know me?"

"I tell her about you!"

His breath catches in his throat. "You do?"

"She asks about you sometimes, too."

His initial instinct is to assume that those questions are either deeply personal or deeply embarrassing, so he only sighs in muted exasperation.

You join him in looking at the basket, squinting your eyes to try and look past the cellophane. "I wonder what she got us, she didn't mention anything when she gave it to me."

"Why don't you just open it?"

"It's more fun to guess first!"

"It can't be that much of a mystery," Levi rolls his eyes. Looking more closely, he can't really make out anything, but there's a faint outline of some sort of bottle. "Do you drink?"

"Not really, no. You think it's alcohol?"

"You don't?"

"It could be a bottle of sauce or something. I ask her for cooking wine sometimes."

"So, alcohol?"

"You know it's not the same thing!"

"My point still stands."

"Maybe it's some other drink? Or something she'd just put into a bottle to throw us off?"

"I really doubt it, but just open it already."

"Ugh, you're no fun, but okay." There's a really tightly-pulled knot holding together the cellophane, so you get up to bring back a pair of scissors. You slip one of the blades underneath the ribbon, and you snip at it before peeling away at the plastic.

Lo and behold, it's a bottle of dark red liquid. Also inside the basket is two wine glasses and some small jars of assorted expensive spices and homemade jams, but it's more than obvious the primary gift is the drink.

"Huh, guess you were right. Don't know why she'd get this for me when she knows I don't really drink, though." You reach forward and carefully pull up the bottle from the mixed paper cushioning the it in the basket, and you bring it up closer to your face to read the label your landlady had attached to it. "Oh! She made it herself, it says it's pomegranate wine. Have you had that before?"

"No. Not really a much of a drinker myself, either."

"Here, you can read the label."

As you move to hand the bottle to him, Levi sees a little piece of paper attached to the underside of the bottle that he doesn't think you saw, so he points to it before you can pass it off. "What's that?"

You swiftly move your wrist to turn the bottle upside-down, and you gently peel it from the bottle and hold it up to your eyes. Your lips move as you silently read it to yourself, but you fold it and tuck it underneath your sleeve. Before he can ask what it'd said, you hold out the wine to him again with a soft smile and tell him. "Just a note from her to me."

He hesitantly nods, unsure of what that really means, but he takes the bottle from you anyway, and he looks down to read the sticker.

Homemade Pomegranate Wine. Store cold. Faintly earthy, slightly sour, sweet, it reads.

"Are you gonna open it?" Levi asks, putting it back on the table.

"I don't know, do you think I should?"

"I asked first."

"Well," you go to grab one of the two glasses in the basket. "I'd feel bad if I didn't have any, especially since she made it herself."

"Then what's stopping you?"

"I don't wanna pressure you into drinking just because I am."

"What? How old do you think I am, twelve?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you sass. "I was just trying to be considerate."

"You don't need to be, I'm not influenced so easily. Just open the damn bottle."

You roll your eyes. "You've really lost your tact over the last couple months, haven't you?"

"You want me to get it back?"

"No, no! I like you this way," you laugh. "I'm gonna go wash this, then."

You get up to rinse the glass, and he reaches forward to pull the basket closer to him, looking at all the little jars sent from your landlady. Going by the difference in lids (some being blue, some being yellow), he's meant to be the recipient of the spices.

You'd probably told her he's the better cook between the two of you.

The gentle clinking of glass against glass sounds sweet to him as he reads the labels on them, many of them listing herbs and spiced seeds he's never heard of before. It seems that there was a decent amount of effort in finding these exotic seasonings. The jams look nice, too, neatly arranged and filled to the brim with the sugared fruits. You'd mentioned once before that you'd wanted to try having your tea with jam instead of honey, and these seem like they'd paid well with the plethora of teas you have in your apartment cabinets.

You could probably make these jams all yourself, but he knows you think the thought is worth more than the practicality. You hate washing pots after making jam, anyway.

Looking between you and the other glass, Levi wonders to himself if it'd be worth the slight headache in the morning tomorrow to try some of the wine. Pomegranates are a pain to peel open so he seldom eats them, but in the rare occasions that he musters up the halfhearted willpower to do it, they're pretty good. One can only imagine how such a fruit would translate into wine, but him especially when he's only used to the hard-hitting liquors that those brats force onto him during Happy Hour.

You had to close the bakery a bit earlier than expected, running out of time to justify starting whole new batches of what was missing to sell, so despite summer coming to its end, it's still bright enough outside. There's more than enough time for him to make it home, even after having something to drink, and even if that weren't the case, he knows you'd have no problems with him staying over anyway. Ordinarily, he'd do everything he could to avoid that, but you'll have to get up early anyway to prep downstairs. It might be fun to go through that again, too, especially knowing that you'd be enjoying that feeling for the first time in months now.

He gets up and takes the glass with him to bring to your kitchenette, slipping past you as you dry yours. You look at him from over your shoulder, and you raise a brow. "I thought you weren't drinking?"

"Might as well try it."

"Will you be able to get home okay? If not, you can stay here for the night."

"It takes a lot to get me drunk, I'll be fine," Levi says. "And maybe. We'll see how it goes."

"I don't get drunk easily either, but I don't know what this exactly is gonna feel like."

"It's okay," he muses. "It's worth it to celebrate, anyway. You worked hard to reopen."

You smile. "Couldn't have done it without you, though," you tell him sincerely, pushing past his frame to hang the drying towel back on the hook on the wall. "But you're right, we should celebrate!"

After you leave and bring your glass back to the table to open the bottle, Levi turns the faucet on and grabs the sponge to scrub at whatever dust or grime might be on the cup. He can hear you grunting to yourself as you try to pry open the bottle with the blade of those scissors, sighing loudly when you lose grip of it. He rolls his eyes as you continue to struggle with it, and after he's finished washing his glass, he comes back to the couch to take the scissors and pull out the cork himself.

He gets it open quickly and without fuss, and you hold out your glass for him to pour a bit out to try. He does with steady hands, and you put your glass on the table before grabbing hold of the wine yourself and pouring some out for Levi. He nods in thanks, taking the glass, before he can bring it to his lips, he sees you looking at him expectantly, your own glass held out in-between the two of you.

Levi sighs. "Do we really have to?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?"

Levi halfheartedly rolls his eyes before adjusting his grip to be holding the glass by the neck and clinking the rim of his glass against yours, and you smile as he does. He takes a cautious sip at the same time you do, and while the initial sting of sour is sharp on his teeth, his taste buds are more than welcome to their helping of sweet silk. The burn of alcohol is hardly noticeable, and it tastes almost like a juice rather than a liquor.

Maybe he ought to add winemaking to his long list of nothings to do.

. . .

Well, not really, because the process sounds hellish enough from the little tidbits he knows about it, but it's the thought that counts.

"This is good," he mumbles over his glass, taking another sip.

You hum as you savor the taste on your tongue, leaning back into the seat and closing your eyes. "Yeah, I could drink the whole bottle."

"Don't fucking do that."

"You can't stop me," you joke lightheartedly, taking a dramatically long sip. "But don't worry, I won't."

You both make quick work of the wine already in your glasses, and you put your glasses back on the table to hold them steady while Levi pours another round. He's not all that opposed to keep drinking, partly because it tastes divine, partly because he wants to keep listening as you start to ramble about all the things that'd transpired while you were working by yourself during the earlier parts of the day. You're nowhere near drunk, only speaking more freely than usual with a tiny bit more laughter, and Levi lets you go on-and-on, only stopping you when your hand movements get too erratic and he has to steady the hand holding your glass.

"Thank you, Levi!" You tell him every time, completely oblivious to the way he looks at you as you speak nothings.

But, of course, because it's just the nature of an activity like this, inhibition slowly seeps from your souls, and about an hour after initially popping open the bottle, there's a call to unbridled honesty that Levi resists. It's hardly difficult, already knowing that he's not as effected by alcohol as the ordinary person, but you're not as staunchly tolerant as he is. You're just barely tipsy at this point, but, still, Levi puts the cork back in the bottle to keep you from drinking yourself into feeling sick the next morning. The sun is just barely out, but it's started to rain, so he's just decided he's going to leave tomorrow after helping you in the morning.

He tells you as much, and you swirl your glass, now only barely holding a sip left in it, and you tip it in Levi's direction with a lazy smile. "You really weren't lying when you said you don't get drunk, huh."

"Can't really say the same about you."

"I never claimed to be invincible," you grimace.

"Sure you didn't."

"Okay, maybe I did, but I'm still not drunk yet!"

"I know."

. . .

"So, you should open the bottle for me again." You grab the bottle from the table, and you hold it out for him with a big smile. "Please?"

Levi deadpans, unmoving.

"Come on! Just a little more, and then you can hold onto it for the rest of the night."

"If you want it so bad, you can open it yourself."

"If you say so." You reach for the scissors on the table, but Levi takes your hand and pulls it back. You lazily try to tug it away, but he holds it firm. Obviously, not enough to hurt you, but enough that you can't get back to the sharp object. "You just said to open it on my own," you whine.

Levi groans. "That was a joke, you're gonna hurt yourself holding those."

"Then you open it!"

"I already said 'no.' You're gonna feel like shit in the morning."

"I won't!" You hold out the bottle to him again, and when he doesn't take it, you groan, putting it back. "You hate me."

He glares at you. "I just don't want you to be hungover when you have to get up later."

"I know, I know, I'm just kidding." You fold your hands in your lap, looking at the room with seemingly newfound wonder (and as if you don't literally live here). "Do you really not hate me?"

"Do you think I do?"

. . .

"No."

"Then, there's your answer."

After a bit more silence where he lets the gentle buzz settle and you look between the ceiling, the wall, and the bottle of wine that's so far out of reach to you, you speak up again, eyes trained everywhere but on him. "Hey, Levi?"

"What?"

"If I can't have any more wine, can you make me some tea?"

. . .

A bit of an odd request, but sure. Beats out having to deal with a drunker version of you, even if you've proved to hold your alcohol well enough to stay yourself.

He nods, and after you tipsily cheer and throw your arms around him in a loose hug, he pries you off of him and gets up to brew you something. It's quiet again, the only noise being that of the running water, the kettle hum, the opening of a tea tin, and the clinking of porcelain as Levi opens and closes your teapot. You take your turn at looking through the things in the gift basket, careful not to make too much noise or break any of the glass jars, but Levi does hear the faint musings of joy when you see a jam you want to try later.

And maybe it's because he's halfway tipsy or because he's brewed that black tea that he drinks at home or because it's made exactly the way he likes it or because he's so used to the simple sight when it's the two of you, but he pours two cups, and he brings them both to the coffee table.

When you see that he's brought two of them, you tilt your head in confusion. "You didn't have to get me two cups."

"One's for me," he says curtly. Before you have to look down and guess which one he'd chosen to brew, he tells you that it's black tea.

He can be thankful that the faint tipsiness you feel makes you forget that he's been insistent on the fact he doesn't drink tea in the first place, because you just thank him and get up from the couch, slightly stumbling over air as you get yourself to the kitchen. "I'm gonna get some sugar to have with it."

He waits for you to come back, a bit of humming from you and the sound of shuffling feet and the ever-growing pitter-patter of the rain outside filling the space as you get a small dish and tip out a small jar you keep on the counter with sugar cubes. You come back and drop one into the cup on your side of the couch, and you hold out the dish for Levi. "Want one?"

He shakes his head 'no,' and you put it down on the table. Levi touches the side of his teacup, and because it's too hot to start drinking, he gently pulls your hand away when you try to pick yours up. You don't start any fuss about it, though, and you go back to looking in the basket, now at the jars with the blue lids.

You look over your shoulder and hold one up. "Have you used saffron before?"

"Don't think so, no."

"I think you'd like it," you tell him, putting it back in the basket. You pick up another jar, and you bring it up closer to your eyes to read it. "Imported nutmeg seeds? She sure put a lot of effort into this, I better make her something as thanks."

"The ones with blue lids are mine, right?"

"Yeah, I think so, and the yellow ones are mine. Unless you want," you count them, tapping their lids, "ten different jars of jams. This pear one looks like it'd be nice, if you want it."

"I'm good. You should have it, it'll taste good with those croissants you make." He looks out the window and out towards the rain, the shine of the fresh rainwater bright against the long leaves of the plants you leave on your balcony. "Did you tell her I cook?"

"Tell who?"

"Your landlady."

"It's come up before, yeah." After a pause and some more clinking of glass against glass, you continue with a chuckle. "She likes to tease me and say I'm lucky to have a man who can cook for me."

It goes over his head completely what the implication of that statement is, but although he'd been too apprehensive to ask earlier, he figures that this is his one chance to pester you for your opinion of him.

Neither of you are drunk to the point of actual misdirection. If anything, the alcohol has only made you both honest, so this is where he won't have to worry about you needlessly lying to preserve his feelings.

He's wanted to know you've felt about him for a while now. Whether or not that fact has been truly bespoken to him, he isn't sure, but right now, where the world is entirely quiet except for him and you, he decides he has to know.

"What else do you say about me?"

You put down the jar of peppercorns, and you look back at him from over your shoulder. "Hm? What do you mean?"

"You said you talk about me, right? What else do you say?"

"Gotta be more specific than that." You pull away from the table, and you adjust to be facing him on the couch, your side against the back of the cushions. "What do you wanna know?"

And though he'd ordinarily recoil in such an intimate setting, the wine in his veins gives him just enough bravery to watch as your eyes flicker with amusement. His body shifts to mirror yours, knees almost touching as Levi tries to get his side to mold into the plush. "I don't know, everything?"

You lean into your hand. "You think we have the time for that?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because I talk about you a lot."

. . .

"You do?"

. . .

"There's a lot to say about you, Levi."

. . .

"What's there to even say?"

. . .

"For starters, that you're practically live here now. My landlady keeps asking if I need to add your name to the lease."

Not off to the greatest start.

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose. "Seriously? And you let her keep asking?"

"She doesn't really mean it, she just likes to mess around," you laugh.

Reminds him of someone else who liked to meddle in his business.

"Good grief," he groans.

"But, really, what do you want to know?"

What does he want to know?

When he takes too long to think of an answer to give, you take the liberty of continuing however you'd wanted to, powered by only drunken stupor. "Well, you already know I told her that you cook."

"That, I do."

"Where'd you learn, by the way?"

"Just picked it up as the years went by, I guess."

"I'm jealous, you're so good at it, too," you sigh, leaning further into your hand.

Levi rolls his eyes. "As if I don't cook for you all the time."

"And, for that, I love you," you cheer, lazily pumping your first in the air.

And though Levi's heart stops for just barely a second, he knows you're only exaggerating.

Right?

"Hm, what else have I told her," you muse to yourself. "Ah! I've told her you live in a house."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say wistfully, turning around to take a glance at the kitchen. "I've never been there before, obviously, but I think I have enough of an image to have described it well-enough. I don't tell her all about it, but she probably has an idea in her head."

"How do you know what my house looks like, anyway?"

"You talk about it a lot more than you realize," you tease, smiling.

He raises a brow. "I do?"

"Yeah!" You beam. "Your garden's more of a field than a small plot of dirt, so I can't imagine that you have much directly around you. You don't complain about any neighbors, either, so you probably don't have any."

. . .

"You'd be correct."

"See? And you'd mentioned once that it's made of wood, and the interior is painted blue. I think you said something before about getting some new furniture, too. And you have one of those directional things on your roof, right? The horse?"

"My weathervane?"

You nod, now remembering the word. "That! You said you painted it black, which isn't really practical because it's meant to reflect in the sun, so either you're really stupid, or you have a horse that's that color. Or had, you haven't complained about having to clean up manure or anything, so I doubt you have any farm animals."

. . .

Levi nods. "The latter."

Your half-drunken rambling continues, your hands now moving in tandem with your mouth. "And you have a small, circle dining table," you make the same shape with your hands, giggling. "Well, not that small, but it only fits four people, and you refuse to get a bigger one, so you always have to move stuff around so you can make enough space for your friends to have dinner when they come over.

"In my head, you ask them to push the random tables and chairs together, but you always end up being the one to do it because you're too worried about the floor getting scratch marks," you laugh, tipping your head back. "And you take the phrase 'too many cooks in the kitchen' to heart. Can't get anything done if someone's nagging you while you cook, which is ironic considering I'm sure my kitchen is smaller than yours and you have no problem sharing it with me.

"Oh! And there's that loose floorboard in front of your bedroom door you used to complain about all the time. Did you ever get it fixed?"

. . .

"No."

"Oh. I think there's some leftover wood from when we redid the flooring, maybe you could use that?"

"It's alright, I've gotten used to the creaking." Levi kisses his teeth, and he adjusts to lay his arm against the top of the couch. "You really remember all that stuff I told you?"

"Why wouldn't I? We're friends, aren't we?"

His heart pauses again, this time for longer than a second.

Friends.

You consider him a friend?

He'd felt this same feeling before, hadn't he? Where he'd questioned how you could be friends with him in the first place.

But...

This feels different. The quiet tug in his chest isn't that of despair in the way it'd been before. The hurt shouldn't be there, but it's dull. 

Friends.

Is that the correct word for the two of you?

"Hello?" You interrupt him, waving your hand in front of his face.

Levi blinks quickly and clears his throat, and he nods. "Right. We are friends."

It feels wrong coming out of his mouth, but he can't place why. He's long left his guilt over occupying your time.

"I'm sorry, it's probably weird for me to be talking about you so much to someone you don't really know," you nervously smile, tapping your pointer against your cheek.

He raises a brow. "Is it?"

"Isn't that why you're asking me about it? To make sure I haven't said anything too embarrassing?"

"No."

It's weird. He can't quite place it, because even though he knows that the notion of somebody talking about him in any capacity would be irritating otherwise, he can't bring himself to really care in any negative light.

In fact, it makes him... happy. Happy to hear that he exists to you outside of the moments you're together.

And maybe he's selfish in that way—thinking that he's allowed to be happy about it, or that he's allowed to ask more about it.

"I just want to know."

"I suppose I'd be curious too if I were you," you hum. "Maybe, one day, I'll get to ask you what you tell Gabi and Falco about me."

"You could just ask them yourself if you wanted to."

"Bring them by again, by the way. Gabi asked that I show her how to make cookies."

"Okay, I will."

. . .

"Anything else you tell your landlady about my boring self?"  

. . .

"I guess that's something else I told her. That you think you're boring."

Back to square one.

"Do you think I am?"

"What? Boring?"

Levi nods, half-afraid you'll say "yes," half-afraid you'll say "no."

He knows it's immature to think that either answer is indicative of any particular shortcoming in your opinion of him. "Boring" is hardly a negative adjective for him to begin with; boring is routine, boring is stable. He knows there's more to life than chasing fun and distractions.

But if you say "no," you're disagreeing with him. Challenging his disposition about himself.

"I don't," you answer.

And, suddenly, he's afraid you think of him in ways beyond his own world.

What's wrong with him? He'd been happy to hear that you talked about him outside of when he'd existed in front of you, but now he's too scared to think about how anything could go beyond that.

But even if he can't understand why, he'll hope his sober self will remember the details of this night and allow him the grace to continue living as boldly as he is now.

Now's your chance, Levi.

"Then, what do you think of me?"

You look up at him from your hand, and Levi watches as you blink at him, and your eyes twinkle with whimsy. "What do I think of you?"

He swallows down a lump in his throat, and he nods.

"Well," you hum as you lean further into your hand once more, and you look beyond him, your eyes only flickering back to him to make sure he's listening. "I think you're...

"Beautiful."

. . .

Beautiful?

. . .

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," you giggle. You move your head so your hair ribbon falls over your shoulder, and you roll the satin between your fingers. "You just are."

Levi refuses to believe you mean that. You don't know what that word means right now. You're drunker than he thinks you are. "You're lying."

"Come on, Levi. You know I'm not."

Looking more closely at your face, the flush on your cheeks is only attributed to the slightly hot summer heat; devoid is significant affect of alcohol. The smile on your face, though small and reserved, still reaches your eyes in the same way he'd learned to love, and in them, he sees no dishonesty.

"I do," he bites the inside of his cheek. Better now, than never. "But why?"

"Why? Hm," you start, eyes turning down to look at your ribbon. "Well, you're hard-working."

"What the fuck does that have to do with beauty?"

"It's moving that you care so much about what you do with your time," you smile to yourself. "Gardening, taking care of your home, helping me around here."

He lights up in embarrassment, and he covers the lower half of his face with the palm of his hand. "I don't think I care that much," he grumbles.

"There's no shame in caring about things."

. . .

"I know that."

"Sure you do," you chuckle. "Well, continuing on, you're brave."

Okay, now you're actually losing him. Again, what's that got to do with beauty?

"How the fuck am I brave?"

"You put up the new chandelier downstairs all on your own!"

He deadpans. " That's your measure of courage?"

You furrow your brows, and you change from looking dazed to halfheartedly frowning. He's about to correct himself and comfort you, but you don't speak at all in the way you look. "It takes real guts to get on the ladder! I used to have to ask an installation company to do the light fixtures!"

"That still doesn't make sense. How does that make me," he hesitates in using the word, even if it's prompted by you to use it for him in the first place. "...That."

"It just does," you hum, now back to having a relaxed smile on your face. "Oh! And you're kind. That makes you beautiful, too."

"Do I even bother questioning why?" Levi sighs. "I don't even think I'm kind in the first place. I'd go as far as to say I'm un kind."

And that's the truth, isn't it?

He's grumpy.

He's needlessly straightforward.

He's hanging onto something that he should've given the grace to leave.

He-

"Well, I don't think a man who's unkind would help raise two children, no matter how well-behaved they are."

"Actually, they were decently rowdy when I first met them." He pauses. "Well, one of them. Falco's always been respectful."

. . .

"Wow, you really showed me, huh," you tease. 

"Shut it."

"I mean it! I really do think you are kind."

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

You groan. "Whatever, don't believe me, then. But you aren't changing my mind."

"Why are you so insistent on it, anyway?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I don't think I've met a person kinder than you in my life."

And that's finally enough to make him freeze.

Or maybe he melts; he hasn't been able to discern the feeling. All he knows is that he's caught off-guard, and he's begging you to clarify and set him straight again.

You don't seem to catch on, though, and you just continue, closing your eyes and speaking with a new melody which resonates something deep within his soul. "From the day I first met you, you've always been so nice. You didn't want to take anything for free from me, and you still wanted to buy out the entire display case.

"Even I can tell you're no sweet tooth, but you still came back to have a slice of cake every so often and get something to bring home for your friends. You let me talk your head off at the counter, and you let me awkwardly sit with you and drink tea."

"That's not special. It's just what anyone would do," he asserts quietly.

Right?

"Maybe, but not just anyone would spend their entire summer trying to rebuild a bakery that's, what? An hour's walk away from where they live? And you never asked for anything in return. You just... did it for me. Even though you didn't know me all that well yet, and you'd only learned I was closed that same day, you still promised to come back and help me.

"You came back, and you installed new lights for me. Read the instructions to me when we had to assemble the appliances. Sat with me while I did property paperwork. Let me drag you around and say it was your birthday when it was really mine."

From the corners of your eyes seeps tears, but even though Levi wants to rush in and wipe them away, you seem content in letting them settle there. Time stills as he watches you speak from your soul in the way he'd so desperately wished he could himself.

"And you didn't just help me.

"You came so often my apartment started feeling empty when you weren't here.

"You brought in your own vegetables and fruits from your garden and cooked for me. Hell, you even started leaving extra portions so I could keep eating your cooking on the days you were gone.

"You ate all the desserts I made out of boredom and brought them home to take them off my hands, too, only to come back and tell me how much everyone you gave some to enjoyed it.

"You let me talk about anything, everything, and nothing at all.

"Fuck, you even memorized the prices of everything so you could help me with reopening today."

And, from Levi's heart, something blooms. Like a peony, flowering in a gentle, autumn breeze, he feels something bloom.

"So, you're not allowed to call yourself unkind around me."

Your eyes remain closed, but you've stopped crying.

And, like a fool, Levi can't keep his mouth shut.

"I think the meaning is still lost on me," he says softly, reaching forward to wipe at the stray tears left on your cheeks with his right hand.

"What?"

"Is beauty not a physical attribute anymore? Last I heard, all those things you just described me as aren't physical."

You laugh, Levi feeling your face light up as he continues to swipe away water from your eyes with his thumb. "Even after all of that, it still doesn't make sense to you?"

. . .

"No."

You sniffle, and you keep laughing.

"What?"

"Beauty manifests itself in a lot of ways, you know that, right?"

"I really don't."

"You want me to prove it?"

"I doubt you could."

"Watch." You grab hold of his hand, already within reach, and you bring it down and hold it in your lap. His thumb is still wet with your tears, so you pull the sleeve of your dress a bit longer so you can dry it. "Remember when you asked me for my name?"

He dumbly nods, his eyes following downwards to watch as you hold his hand in yours.

You look down and rub at callouses on his palm, careful not to press too harshly against the flesh. "Even when I didn't know you, I knew you were a hard worker. I could feel your callouses through your gloves."

Flames licks at Levi's heart, and he's too nervous to speak again. Even faintly drunk, he can't do anything against the everpresent feeling of warmth that comes from you.

"Then I learned more about you, and that opinion just strengthened."

"And you think that's... beautiful?"

"Yeah," you drunkenly smile. "I guess that'd be right."

"Then how exactly does bravery translate into something felt?"

You laugh, and you let go of his hand, bringing your right hand back on the top of the sofa backing. "Well, that's a bit more superficial. I just like having someone who can do things on the ladder so I don't have to."

"Of course you do." He supposes there's a sort of appeal in having someone else who can do the things you can't—namely, manual labor—but it still doesn't make that much sense to him.

"And! And! You're brave enough to try all the things I make, so that's gotta count for something, right?"

"Right, because trying a new flavor of cake is so scary," he deadpans.

"You'd be surprised how many people stick to only one flavor," you hum. "But, for you, I guess what that translates to is you not really looking nervous. You look pretty attractive with your whole 'cool and collected' disposition, you know."

"If you say so," he sighs. "What's left, then? Kindness?"

"Sure, you want me to show you?"

"You can try," he scoffs. "I really doubt you could."

No way you'd be able to point anything out about his appearance that conveys that in any meaningful way. His body's worn down, and the only marks of physicality he has left are the absences thereof.

Hard-work?

Sure, that shows up in the way his hands are weathered. He could've figured that out for himself if he really wanted to.

Bravery?

Just as stupid, but it makes sense; he was a soldier before all this.

The ability to climb a ladder without screaming at the top of his lungs is apparently also something of an indicator of this trait in his physical being.

Kindness?

Yeah, no fucking way.

Then, suddenly, you reach outwards to push aside his bangs so you can see his face more clearly. At the touch of your fingers against his forehead, he burns hot red again. Your hand lingers there, pinning his hair to the side of his face.

Fuck, he can barely breathe with you in front of him like this.

"What're you doing?"

"They say eyes are the window to the soul," you say, looking into his.

Mesmerized by the swirl of care in your own orbs, he can't look elsewhere, and he can feel his heart beating even louder in his chest.

"And what about them?"

"You can tell me all you want that you aren't all these things. That you aren't caring, that you aren't courageous, that you aren't nice-"

"Didn't you just say I wasn't allowed to say any of that?" Levi asks abruptly.

You move your hand to gently pinch his cheek, lightly scolding him. "I know you're gonna say it anyway, so I can't stop you."

"I would've listened," he murmurs, putting his hand over yours on his cheek.

"No, you wouldn't have," you giggle.

. . .

Levi sighs. "You're probably right."

"You also didn't let me finish!"

Levi rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the rising burn coming from his chest. "Then finish."

"Well, now I've lost my train of thought. Um..."

"Something about me not being nice."

"Right, right," you hum, and your hand moves to lace itself in his hair.

And maybe it's because he's drunk, or maybe it's because he's waited for this moment for so long, or maybe it's because it's you, but he leans into your touch, begging to feel your warmth.

And with your next words, you give it to him.

"You could say any and all of that, and I'd never believe you.

"Because when I look in your eyes, all I see is someone kind. Someone beautiful.

"Someone who's you."

And, then and there, time stills completely.

The scent of familiar tea, the burn of your hand against his scalp, the feeling of his eyes locked with yours. All of it is so overwhelming that Levi can barely register you moving to straddle him, only to make it easier to hold his face with both your hands. He lets you, his hands moving to rest on your hips, and he stares up at you, a ring of light around your hair from the overhead lamp.

You lean in closer, looking at him with as much intensity as he is at you.

Maybe you really do believe all those things you'd said.

Maybe, through his eyes, you really can see him in the ways he can't see himself.

And, looking into your eyes, he thinks he sees you, too.

The fragment of light that'd always been there tells him what he'd already thought of you. All the ways he'd described you in his dreams could be rewritten into the way your eyes twinkle here, the way they shine. There's a tenderness in the way your gaze softens when you look at him, and it begs him to admit to himself that you're as beautiful as he'd always known you as. 

And, in your eyes, he thinks he finally sees the beauty in something as simple as sunshine.

"Is this okay?" You whisper in song, your lips hovering over his.

He nods slowly, his eyes fluttering closed, trying to burn the image of rosy cheeks and a breathless smile against his eyelids. But, although his heart wills him to lean further forward, to press skin to skin, it hits him all at once.

With the feeling of your breath hitting his, your fingers laced in his hair, his heart beating in sync with yours, he's sobered up again, his senses overwhelmed with the revelation that already came to him many moons ago. From the very beginning, when he'd only known you through the ghost of your touch through wrapped presents and lemon vanilla, he'd already known this.

He's not supposed to be here.

The feeling of his blood running cold comes quick, and it freezes him. You're still right in front of him, begging for affection to be returned with the confidence that you express in your touch, but long gone is the warmth of your hands all over him.

What’s even wrong with him right now?

His subconscious mind has been nagging him all this time to stop indulging in the simple company afforded to him by you, and now it demands that he give into it entirely? And, yet, he can't find it within himself to do even that. Even when he's meant to be at his most honest, his system flooded with liquid courage meant to give him the clarity to speak from his soul, nothing comes to him other than the taunting call of a sunless sky, telling him this;

If he were truly, wholly, deserving of this kind of love, wouldn't he be ready to receive it?

In this moment, he realizes there'd been love since he'd first crossed paths with you. His soul spoke for him and told him even your smile showed romance, and, still, nearly a whole year later, his heart still demands to be steeled and kept away from even himself.

His own heart isn't even his to give. He wants to believe that, if he had it, he would give it to you, but he can't know it enough to promise that to himself.

And, as if he'd had any control over it in the first place, the light in his soul is turned off, like a lamp with a bulb that's burned itself to the wire.

The only things that occupy his head presently are questions he wish he'd answered sooner, before all of this. He'd exhausted willpower to question all other beauty he'd encountered in this life, but the prospect of romance seemed so impossible, it hadn't ever been paramount enough to mull over completely.

Who is he to deserve compassion from someone else?

Someone so kind?

Someone so far away?

Someone who’s a friend?

Someone who’s halfway a lover?

Someone who’s as bright as the sun itself?

Someone who’s you?

He’s undeserving of a life like that. He can barely even muster up the courage to will himself to breathe now, the realization creeping up too quickly yet sucking him in with its familiar malice.

He should’ve known that the sun doesn’t shine for someone like him. It'd felt so easy to soak it in, to let himself fall, to find himself here, in the arms of someone so inviting. Even with how beautiful this life is and how much he’s come to own, he’s lost too much to consider himself any more than a shell of the person he was forced to be up until this point.

And you.

Even with how much he's tried, he can't even let you into his heart any more than he had when you'd first met. You've been prying at the cracks with your smile and the taunting second cup of tea you've always got in front of him, and, even right now, your touch is far too gentle, and the only way that it burns is in the way your soul threatens to see his.

But who are you to deserve someone so callous?

Someone so self-removed?

Someone who can't be present?

Someone who can't accept the love you give?

Someone who can't give you the love you deserve?

Someone who's him?

You're undeserving of a life like this.

He can't even will himself to talk of himself in ways any more meaningful than what can be prompted by the falling of the sun in the sky, how could he be anymore than a stranger to you? How could he let you be in the company of a man whose soul is weighted down by an island across the sea?

He can't give you the life in the sun that you want.

Sure, the sun exists in his world.

So does the sky, the sea, and all the other beautiful things that just happen to exist at the same time as him.

But none of those things belong to him, and all that is beautiful in this life is not his. All that belongs to him is a life is marred by the loss of all that he's ever held dear to him, and he knows he can't let you in. His life is tethered to the many pasts he doesn't let himself forget, and even though you try to pull him ahead with you, his heart is somewhere only it knows, close enough to allow him the same pain of heartbreak, but far enough to keep him from feeling it beat in his chest.

Flashes of his past lives lived flicker through in his mind, and they tell him, all along, that he was right to keep you away from his own world, and to only be with you in yours.

And they tell him he was wrong to believe that he would be okay with only that.

He can’t afford to lose you in this way, but this isn't about him anymore.

He can't let someone like you fall in love with someone like him.

All at once, he crumbles, just as your lips graze his and he feels a faint calling to the sun.

He doesn't have the heart to stay there for even a second, knowing that if his body had the chance to remember your touch in this way, he'd never forget it.

And, so, with hands made of ice and a soul as heavy as hand, he undoes his fingers from your hair, and though he wishes he had done that to cradle your face instead, he wills himself to gently push you away.

He wants to keep his eyes closed, but he knows he can't. No matter how badly he wants his last image of you to be that of wine-stained lips and the look of tranquility that graces your being, he knows he isn't allowed the luxury of loving remembrance.

He holds back a quiet sob, and he opens his eyes.

"I have to go," he breathes in broken song. "I'm sorry."

He forces himself to look at you, but though his soul etches the image of a broken heart into itself, he sees nothing.

It's as if the sun had already stopped shining, leaving him lonesome in a land without even the moon.

And he wishes he'd let himself be selfish, if only to remember you as love itself, but it's too late now.

From there, his body moves on its own, the only feeling being the burn that the ribbon in your hair leaves behind when it brushes his arm as he gets up to go, the satin branding shame onto his skin through

He thinks he's careful to avoid knocking anything over as he finds his shoes.

He thinks he puts them on correctly.

He thinks he's already grabbed his cane from the dining table.

He thinks he has everything he needs from here.

He thinks he knows the way home.

He thinks the rain isn't so bad.

All the while, you're calling after him, asking what's wrong, telling him that in his haste to get out the door, he's forgotten to tie his shoes.

Telling him that he's forgotten his cane at the dinner table he'd only mere hours ago set food on.

Telling him that he's forgotten to take his share of things from your landlady's reopening gift, namely the saffron you'd said he'd like.

Telling him that he's forgotten what direction to turn in to get himself downstairs.

Telling him that he's forgotten how harsh the downpour is tonight.

Telling him that he'd knocked over the cups of tea he was meant to share with you.

But he doesn't hear any of it.

What he does hear is you telling him that he doesn't have to leave. In the same way only his soul remembers how you'd looked, it's the same here. He has no idea what you're actually saying, only a dull ring in his ears that tells him he's being spoken to. Words travel through his ears, but never quite reach his head, only wounding his heart in the way his hand feels phantom pain.

But you're wrong anyway, no matter what it is that you're saying.

He does have to leave, and even if you don't know why, he can't let himself be here, in your world.

Because no matter how much his heart yearns to be let into the sun, to be bare without caution, the thought that chases after him remains.

He's not supposed to be here, and neither are you.

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next part coming soon! thank you for reading (ㅅ´ ˘ `)