#and i hesitated on answering this but i figured it was worth a shot throwing my thoughts out there in the VOID of tumblr

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : established relationship, threat, confrontation, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k

you had always known that your ex was trouble, but you never expected him to show up at your doorstep after all this time. it had been months since you’d broken things off, and you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, finding peace in your life. but all of that was shattered the moment you opened your door and found him standing there, his familiar smirk making your stomach churn.

“miss me?” he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he had every right to be there.

you stiffened, your hand tightening around the edge of the door. “what do you want?”

he shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious. “i’ve been thinking about you. figured i’d drop by, see how you’ve been.”

the audacity of his words made your blood boil. after everything he’d put you through - the lies, the manipulation, the constant mind games - he had the nerve to act like you were just another one of his conquests he could revisit whenever he felt like it.

“i’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. “you need to leave.”

his smirk widened, as if your resistance only amused him. “come on baby, don’t be like that. we had some good times, didn’t we? no need to throw it all away.”

you felt a wave of panic rising in your chest. he was the same as ever, using that smooth, persuasive tone to try and worm his way back into your life. but you weren’t the same person you were when you’d been with him. you were stronger now, more sure of what you wanted - and more certain that he wasn’t it.

“i said leave,” you repeated, but he only took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as his expression turned from playful to dangerous.

“don’t act like you don’t want this,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “i know you. you’ll come around, just like always.”

before you could respond, a shadow fell over the doorway, and your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t even heard logan approach, but suddenly, he was there, stepping up behind you with a presence that seemed to fill the entire space.

“you heard her,” logan said, his voice low and deadly. “she’s not interested. now get lost.”

your ex’s bravado faltered for a split second as he looked up at logan, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there. he took in logan’s tall, muscular frame, the sharp glint in his eyes, and the way he carried himself with a confidence that screamed don’t mess with me.

“and who the hell are you?” your ex sneered, trying to regain his composure.

logan didn’t so much as flinch. “someone who’s not gonna ask again. walk away now, before i make you.”

the threat in logan’s voice was unmistakable, and you could see the hesitation in your ex’s eyes. he wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like logan, who looked like he could break him in half without even trying.

“this is between me and her,” your ex said, though his voice lacked the earlier confidence. “it’s none of your business.”

logan took a step forward, his stance aggressive, and you felt a surge of relief and gratitude wash over you. “it became my business the second you showed up uninvited. so, i’ll say it one more time - leave. now.”

there was a long, tense moment where it seemed like your ex was considering whether or not to push his luck. but whatever he saw in logan’s eyes must have convinced him that it wasn’t worth it. he scoffed, taking a step back.

“fine,” he spat, his bravado crumbling as he realised he was outmatched. “but don’t think this is over.”

“it is,” logan said coldly. “you show up here again, you’ll regret it.”

your ex shot you one last look, a twisted mix of anger and disdain, before turning on his heel and stalking off down the street. you watched him go, your heart still racing, but as the distance between you grew, so did your sense of relief.

once he was out of sight, you let out a shaky breath, your whole body trembling with the adrenaline of the encounter. logan, still standing protectively by your side, turned to you, his expression softening.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, so different from the cold, threatening tone he’d used with your ex.

you nodded, but the emotions of the moment were overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself leaning into logan, seeking the comfort of his solid presence. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and the warmth and strength of his embrace was exactly what you needed.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

logan pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he said firmly. “i won’t let him hurt you.”

you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude. “you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

logan’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “of course i did. i care about you, and ‘m not gonna let anyone treat you like that.”

your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache with affection. logan had always been protective, always looking out for you in his own gruff way, but this was different. this was him showing just how much he cared, how much he was willing to do to keep you safe.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor yourself to him.

logan smiled, a rare, soft smile that he seemed to reserve just for you. “you don’t have to do anything. ‘m here because i want to be.”

he leaned down and kissed you, a slow, lingering kiss that felt like a promise - a promise that he’d always be there for you, no matter what. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek.

“you’re safe with me,” he whispered, and you knew, without a doubt, that he meant it.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realised that with logan by your side, you didn’t have to be afraid of anything - or anyone - ever again.

[mikeswheeler]

how in the hell is mileven healthy or wholesome - they’re extremely dependent on each other (even though they only knew each other for a week??) and eleven doesn’t even have a solid grasp on living like a normal person yet, much less having a healthy romantic relationship. they need to develop first

there’s a lot of things i want to unpack in this message and i don’t know where to even BEGIN... 

i mean, first off, “only knew each for a week” like I GUESS ??? THAT CAN BE A POINT TO MAKE ???? but also, what’s the minimum time requirement of knowing someone in order to say that you feel a connection with them (sometimes it happens faster for others - just because you haven’t experienced a bond to form so quickly with someone, doesn’t mean it’s impossible / unrealistic /shrugs/)

secondly, i don’t necessarily think their dependency on one another is ~unhealthy~ so to speak. i think their high emotions regarding one another’s safety makes sense considering a) mike literally witnessed eleven disappear into thin air right before his very eyes, there was NO closure whatsoever regarding if she was still out there or DEAD and b) eleven was forced to stay away from mike for a WHOLE YEAR... all while witnessing him try to reach out to her, but not being able to do anything about it... both these circumstances are pretty fucking painful, so i think the whole not wanting to lose you again scene in episode 9 makes sense when you think about what they’ve been through to reunite, only for eleven to have to go off and RISK HER LIFE AGAIN FOR THEM ??? they just really care about each other ??? 

while yes, it’s evident just how much they love one another and how it effects them being apart for so long, if it was truly unhealthy i feel like it would’ve been written in a sense of that’s all they focus on ! that’s all their character is for ! ONLY focusing on eleven / mike ! that’s it ! but it’s very clear in this season that they are able to focus on OTHER aspects of their life as well (eleven wondering about her backstory and where she came from, looking for her mother, seeking out kali // mike being primarily focused on will, concerned about his well being, sleeping over at his place and staying by his side in the hospital, a lot of his energy was actually put towards will this season if you think about it)  

all characters are due for some development, especially the kids because well, they’re kids. i think it kind of sucks though that people assume mike and eleven can’t do that while still maintaining a type of relationship with one another. to be fair, we haven’t even seen a storyline of them while canonically ‘together-together’ so i don’t know if it’s really fair to say ‘well, they’re unable to develop as people if they’re together’ ??? i also just feel like this is reducing them / simplifying their characters (ESPECIALLY eleven, oh my god, y’all seriously infantilize her sometimes) like i think they’re more complex than that my dude but to each their own !

ALTHOUGH I WILL SAY, i can see this issue and how it arises when talking about the fandom and how they interpret their characters but not so much the canon story. like, sometimes all i see from people when writing eleven is “she likes eggos and she likes mike, that’s it” or when writing mike “he has heart eyes for el, that’s it” there’s more depth to them, people ! 

in short, keep this opinion. be against mileven. whatever. it’s your life, i don’t really care. but these were my thoughts on the topic ! and there were many more but i didn’t know how to coherently include them so HAVE THIS MESS THAT I TRIED TO ORGANIZE INSTEAD ta-dah ! thank you for your time ! 

[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn���t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

[fevertowrite]

Of Nicknames and Anger

Summary: Raph doesn’t let his temper get the best of him, or he tries to at least. (Rise universe!) 

A/N: I usually don’t write Rottmnt, but I’ve been wanting to for some years. Hopefully none of the characters are OOC, but I do appreciate some feedback.

x

Sometimes, Raph hates being the oldest. He hates the attention and the pressure his Pops put on him. But, in a few years, he would officially be the leader. 

But he's sparred before; he knows if they had belts like kids on the TV, he would probably be around a blue belt. So, he isn't the best, but he's good and crafted, and Donnie's good too. 

 It's just the two of them on the mats; Donnie's saying stupid things to tick him off; he's twirling his wooden bo, weapons they got about a year ago, and is smack talking him. Splinter sees this and lets him continue to say it because he doesn't stop him. 

 "Come on, Raphael," he twirls his bo, both circling each other, waiting on someone to make a move. "Don't be a baby; come hit me."

 Donnie's only seven, but he already knows how to push someone's buttons, maybe not as much as Leo, but enough to start an argument. He keeps his fingers tightly wrapped around the staff, a little hesitant to attack, waiting on his oldest brother to launch at him. But he doesn't, and Donnie's growing a little bit bored. 

 "I'm not a baby," Raph says in defense, his Sais between his fingers. They've all called him a baby for a week, and Raph's sick of it. Just because he struggles to ask Splinter for a new pair of Sais, since his Pops would probably lecture his ear off about keeping their weapons in good condition (and likely earn a smacking or two), he now earned the name baby. It's stupid, and he knows, but the eight-year-old has been hearing it for days. 

 The name lights up Leo's and Mikey's enthusiasm, and they perk up. "Yeah, Raph!" Loudmouth Leo starts, "don't be a baby; hit him!" Mikey watches them quietly, being on the inside joke too, but he doesn't rile up his eldest brother; his two brothers got that.

 He still grins and howls at his brother, "hit him!" 

But Raph acts unfazed: "Your little smack talk isn't gonna work, you guys." 

Donnie stops circling Raph and shrugs, "it was worth a shot… you guys heard it himself; nothing can get through, baby Raphael." 

"Aww," Leo joins in, "did someone hurt baby Raph's feelings?" 

"Stop it!" Raph yells, and he looks over at Splinter for help. 

 "Children," Splinter begins but stops, he doesn't know why they keep calling Raphael a baby, but he's too tired to figure it out, "eh, just spar Red." 

 "Raphael," Leo says, and Donnie smiles, "you're just proving everyone in this room right; you may be the oldest, but you act like a baby." 

 Raph shakes his head, his eyes narrow, and his footsteps are heavy. Raph may be the biggest, but he knows better to stomp.  All he sees is red, whatever taunts is being thrown at him he can’t hear.

 Donnie notices his brothers heavy breathing and backs off with the taunting. “Raph?”

 Raph doesn’t say anything, he points his Sai at his brother and then rolls into a summersault, and despite being a foot bigger, he can do it seamlessly. He draws his Sai to the bo and takes control of the bo by twisting it out of Donnie's hands. 

 For once, Donnie hesitates. It only lasts a second though when Raph throws a punch and Donnie roll away. He's more flexible than his brothers due to his shell, unlike his brother's hard shell. He throws in a few kicks, but Raph doesn’t even flinch.

 Raph tosses the bo behind him, his body blocking Donnie's way to get it, and Donnie notices, but Pops taught him more hand-to-hand combat since his bo breaks all the time. However, Donnie rarely worries, but he was worrying just a tad bit.

 “You okay there, bud?”

 No answer, so Donnie throws a bunch of kicks and punches at Raph, but Raph's able to block all the attacks and then catches the kick mid-air. Donnie visibly gulps, and Raph twists his leg around, so Donnie's shell is facing him. He pushes his brother forward to have space, and Donnie loses his footing. 

 Raph's smiles grow, "Am I a baby now, Donnie?" He charges midway, turns to a jump, fist out. 

 By the time Donnie regains his footing, it's a little bit too late. He barely turns, hearing Leo and Mikey warn him off at the corner and feels a sharp white pain on his shell. 

 x

 The ground rattles, and there's smoke all over the dojo, or that's how Raph sees after throwing that punch. Sure, he still hasn't asked Pops about the new Sais, but this will teach Donnie a lesson. 

 "Donnie!" 

The moments short-lived, everyone's gathered around a downed Donnie, and he can't see Donnie from the gathering. He's a little confused; they should be rooting for him. 

 "Dude, what were you thinking?" Leo's the first to ask, standing up and pointing a finger at him. "You know he's a softshell."

Raph backs up, his hands up in defense; he feels like his breath is cut short. "I didn't mean to, he, you heard what he was saying." 

 "Yeah, and I was saying it too, it doesn't mean beat the crap out of the guy!" Raph doesn't think he beat the crap out of Donnie; it was one punch! But, of course, Donnie was throwing a bunch earlier, so he doesn't know where this is coming from. 

 "I didn't –" 

 "Look at him." 

 Raph does, and the guilt swirls around his stomach before dropping like stone. Splinter and Mikey are crouched, aiding an unconscious Donnie.

 Before Raph can even begin to apologize, Splinter speaks up. "Leonardo, Michelangelo, take Donatello to his room; I will be there shortly." 

 Leo gives a firm nod, while Mikey collects Donnie by his legs and Leo supports him by his upper body. The two silently look over at a now distress Raph and leave the dojo in a matter of seconds.

x

Raph and Splinters alone, and Raph shifts uncomfortably.

 "I didn't mean to hurt him." 

 "I understand Raphael," Raph hates when Splinter uses his real name, but Raph avoids eye contact now; the eight-year-old focuses mainly on his toes. "You must learn your body and know when to pull back. You are the strongest amongst your brothers and can-do harm if not under control." Splinter puts a paw on his bicep, and his eldest son looks at him with tears. 

 "I know," He lets his voice crack and furiously scrubs his tears away. But Donnie was being stupid and saying stupid things to tick him off, and he must have thrown a punch with all his effort to shut him up and – 

 "You must not let anger control you," Splinter places a paw on Raph's bicep, "it seems there was a joke amongst you and your brothers; what was it about?"

 Raph visibly slouches: he feels so stupid now that he's telling his dad. And when he does tell him, about how he just needed some new Sais and didn’t want to get lectured, all Splinter does is sigh.

 “You’re not mad?”

 “No,” Splinter says, almost disappointed, “I wish you would have told me sooner.”

 “I was afraid – “

 “The Sais do not matter; this nickname does not matter. You are to protect your brothers not hurt them.” He physically sighs again, “I am going to check on Purple.”

 And Raph nods as he watches Splinter leaves with a heavy heart and his head aching.

 x

 Raph always tries to protect his brothers, from their adventures in the sewers to their silly little games. And now he was waiting by Donnie’s room for his brother to wake up.

 It’s a stupid situation and a stupid reason to be in this mess. He got mad at his brother and punched him into unconsciousness? How is he going to be a leader if he nearly killed his brother and for what? To no longer be called a baby? It would be no surprise if his brothers call him a jerk. He deserves it.

 “You really done it this time, Raph.” Leo says as he approaches him with a mug on his hands.

 “Stop.” Raph pleads, the intrusive thoughts of him being a monster has plagued him for hours. He’s always been scared to hurt them, and it turns out to be true. He is a monster. The flashback of the incident keeps replaying in his head, and he vows to never hurt them again, and vows to always protect them like he’s promised.

 x

 Donnie wakes up with a migraine, and an icepack for his shell. He’s bitter, but fine, probably bedridden for a few days.

 Raph apologizes and Donnie accepts it because he’s at fault too.

 A few weeks later, Donnie starts to walk around with a prosthetic shell. Raph’s guilt starts eating him up again, feeling like Donnie made that shell ‘cause of him. No matter what, the feeling of being a monster doesn’t go away.

[damn-stark]

Ch.11: Out of the shadows

Chapter 11 of Cherry

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy the chapter 😏

Warning- ANGST, LONG CHAPTER!, Talks of loss, violence, fluff, swearing, SLOWBURN.

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader,

Episodes- 3x38-3x39

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Is she still out there?”

Sasha looks out the big glass window and nods her head to confirm your wandering question. Albeit she doesn’t linger behind to worry over Historia like you were.

For days now, ever since arriving at the secluded cabin, Historia has liked to go outside a few minutes before the sun set to sit on the grass all by herself. She never asks for company, or explains why she does; mainly because she rarely speaks, but nevertheless she just sits outside all by herself and doesn’t return inside until the night has completely taken over the bright sky.

Except for today. Historia was outside, but there was no sunset to admire. The sky was invaded with dark clouds that brought rain to patter down onto the earth, making the air smell bitter and yet sweet, but not allowing the sky to give any clear indication when day transitioned into night. Not like Historia seemed to mind as she stayed under the rain, letting you build the courage to go speak to her. Even if it meant with you'd get dirty and soaked.

“Mind if I bring some light?” You ask her quietly as you set the lamp down beside her.

Historia slowly drags her eyes up to your face and right away notices the hesitance on your face. She doesn’t speak about it and instead shakes her head to answer your question before returning her gaze to nothing in particular.

“Okay,” you breathe out as you painfully sit down on the ground beside her. “Nice night, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Historia shrugs gloomily.

You smile softly and lift your hand to watch the raindrops collect on your palm. “I love the sound of rain.” You ball your hand and turn it around to then open your fist and let the rain drip down from your hand. “Especially when I’m reading, I like to sit by a window, with tea and a book. It’s very comforting.” You blink to look back at her, seeing that your words went through one ear and left through the other. Her wavered attention didn't discourage you, it should have, but you stayed prominent to your spot and goal—“You know,” you continued in a much softer voice. “When I miss someone who’s gone, I like to wear something that belonged to them. It doesn’t smell like them anymore, but knowing that they used to wear it brings me comfort.” You sigh deeply and look down at your hands on your lap.

Historia finally pulls her attention from the dark horizon ahead and shifts her eyes to look at you. She stays quiet and let’s the sound of the rain falling on the roof of the cabin, and on the ground play uninterrupted for a few minutes as the meaning behind your words processed in her mind. She thought of not answering and being content with your suggestion in silence, but she needed to ask. Just once. “Do you miss him?”

You lift your head and turn your eyes to meet her blue ones that gleamed brighter by the tears welled in her eyes, and the light of the lamp in between you both. “Who?” You question cluelessly.

“Reiner.” She shares, making you grow stiff. “I mean I just saw the way he looked at you, the way he treated you. Were you guys dating?”

You shake your head and mindlessly begin fiddling with your fingers as you choose to answer her with the truth to one of her questions. “No we weren’t dating.” You pause and swallow thickly, taking note of your habit and instead tucking your hands into your sleeves to wipe the rain off your face. “It was just a fling, nothing to it. Plus,” you exhale deeply as your voice softens. “There's no room in my heart for traitors.”

“Was Ymir a traitor?” Historia asks bluntly, once again making you grow rigid with her very straightforward questions. This time instead of answering right away you wait and think of your words very carefully. You didn’t lie to her, or avoid answering, there was no need to with this question.

“No,” you shake your head, “she was different then the other two.” You shift around where you sat to be able to fully face her, while you kept ignoring the pouring rain that made your clothes stick to your body, and brought your body temperature down to an uncomfortable level. “When I was with them, after they took us, the one thing she was sure of was protecting you. She cares about you. She didn’t betray you. She wouldn't.”

Historia’s lip trembles before she drops her head to hide her emotions expressed on her face. Emotions she failed to contain and let out as quiet sobs that caused her whole body to tremble with cold and emotions. You wanted to comfort her, grab her shoulders or rub her back but she shot up and began to cry out what she had contained since Ymir left. “I can’t stand it! Why? She chose them over me?!” Her eyes snap up to meet your bewildered expression. “She said we’d live for our own sakes. But now she’s left me behind.” She falls down to sit on her knees, letting out a shaking breath and dropping her head again, letting the rain shower over her hunched body. “Just like everyone else did. My father, my mother—Ymir left me.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you could offer in a broken voice as your own eyes fell, and filled with similar glum emotions. “I can’t offer you a clear explanation as to why Ymir left, but I can offer you some comfort.” You look up at the same time she does. “As to your parents, just know you’re not alone. My father left me too. My mother…well,” you shrug, “I don’t remember her. Not even a bit, so I don’t think she was a good person worth remembering.” You offer her an assuring smile while you wipe off the water that dripped down your nose. “It hurts. I know, trust me, but you said that you and Ymir would live for your sakes right? Well, do it. No matter what.”

Historia’s eyes flicker up to you and she wipes the tears and raindrops off her cheeks. Her lips maintained her frown, not giving any indication if she would take the advice, but she did nod stiffly, letting you know that she was at least listening to you.

——

“I’m done cleaning upstairs!” You exclaim as you rush in the kitchen. “It took forever since no one helped,” you look at Connie. “But,” you sigh in relief, “It’s spotless.” You pull the mask off your mouth and let it hang around your neck, seeing Eren look back at you to address your comment.

“Good. Captain Levi is almost here. We just need this area here before we’re done.”

You swipe the bandana off your head and can’t help but smile sadly at a passing memory of Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo in a similar cleaning situation. It’s something you couldn’t help but share out loud. “You know what this reminds me of?” You direct to Eren. “Cleaning with the Levi squad. The first one.”

“Yeah,” Eren nods slowly as his eyes fall back to what he was sweeping. His shoulders dropped but he hid what he felt with annoyance. “Only they knew how to clean.” His hands clench tighter around the broomstick and he begins to grumble. “Now it feels like we’re the only ones doing all the work.”

Connie shoots his head up and glares at Eren. “Hey man! Am I painted on the wall or something?”

You smirk and throw the bandana on the dirty pile basket. “You have room to learn.” Before he could add a snarky remark the door opens and Sasha, Jean and Armin walk back inside with the boxes of rations that had arrived.

“Hey!” Eren exclaims to the group, “did you guys wipe the dust and dirt off your shoes before you came in?”

“Huh?” Jean questions as he looks up at Eren whilst he sets the sacks of food down. “No, we didn’t. Can't you see all the stuff we’re carrying?”

You scoff at Jean’s comment and grab the canister from Armins hands to put it on the table whilst you watch Eren march towards Jean to complain further. “Do you seriously think that attitude will satisfy Captain Levi?”

You peek over at the duo and pretend to do something around the kitchen to continue listening to the argument—“If I hadn’t personally made your bed this morning—” Eren argues, making you snort.

Jean hears you and looks to you with a widened and almost horrified expression before his eyes snapped back to Eren to shout at him out of embarrassment. “Shut up! Quit nagging! Who are you, my mom?”

“We’re back.” Mikasa announced as her and Historia finally rejoined the group inside.

“Wait,” Armin protested, “were you just chopping firewood?”

You tilt your head and narrow your eyes on her. “I thought I told you no heavy lifting, and to tell me when you were leaving.”

“Gotta stay in shape.” She quips.

“You got grabbed by a Titan!” Armin shouted as he stepped towards her. “You should be in bed.”

“I try to stop her, but she won’t listen,” Eren interjects in a grumble. “I saw her doing sit ups earlier!”

You sigh and watch Armin follow after her to continue scolding her in his own gentle way before Sasha interjected. “It’s almost like we’re back in the Cadet Corps.”

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Why do you figure we were chosen for the new Levi Squad, though?” Armin can’t help but ask. “Protecting Eren and Historia is such an important mission.”

That was a good question, and one with many different possibilities, but only one you could think of, and Sasha said that for you. “Because we’re talented, I assume.” Albeit she didn’t say it in your exact words. Regardless, as she was answering Armin, she quickly shoved something in her bag that caught your immediate attention.

“Sasha,” you grimace, “what did you just put in your bag?” You turn to face her with a fuming and intimidating glare, but all Sasha does is slowly look up at you with an unaffected expression to lie to your face.

“Nothing bread-related.”

“Why, you!” Jean cut in as well whilst he stormed towards her.

You move towards her and snap back. “Give it back.” “Hey, focus!” Eren interrupts, “we gotta finish cleaning before the Captain gets back!” However no one really listened as you all tried to fight Sasha to put the bread back before said man you were trying to avoid getting upset, walked in.

“What’s the commotion about?” Levi broke the tension, creating a much thicker one as he walked towards the table, causing your shoulders to stiffen, and your angry expression to fall while you met Erens matching concerned gaze. And as Levi swept his hand under the table and dust and dirt fell from the wood, that concern turned to slight fear. Even more so as he lifted his hand and faced the group to address the situation. “I’m quite sure I gave you enough time.” Levi grabs his cloth from his pocket inside his coat and cleans off the dust and dirt collected on his fingers. “Anyways, we’ll discuss your lax cleaning job another time. Eren, Hange is itching to get the experiment started.”

As far as experiments went, you thought it went rather well for the first two hours. Eren listened well to instructions while in his Titan form, he performed all his given tasks well too and you couldn’t deny that he was impressive; he could write, he couldn’t speak because of the shape of his mouth, he could last a pretty long time, but only transform a few times before he seemed to go groggy and lose memory as his consciousness dwindled. The one thing he couldn’t do was harden himself like everyone wanted him to. It was weird, but there was an explanation, there always was.

——

“Huh? What was that?” Levi asks Hange after they and their squad walk into the small cabin, with their face contorted into distress and a hint of sadness.

“He’s dead…” they announce once more. “Pastor Nick. He was murdered. This morning, in the Trost District barracks.”

Levi’s face grows even more serious as the thoughts in his mind begin to churn, he hums and shows no remorse like Hange was. Instead he guided everyone to sit around the table and the couch beside it so Hange could explain in more depth what they and Moblit had seen, and what their thoughts were behind the bloody scene. And as they talked you grabbed the pot of tea you had made and served Levi, Hange and rest of the older Scouts before you walked back to sit on your seat. Albeit before you could serve yourself, Connie pushes his empty cup towards you, and quietly, and discreetly points to it so you could get the hint to serve him first. You smile kindly and grab the cups you set on the table to serve everyone but him.

Now you weren’t being petty, or anything. Not even because he was assigned to clean the table and didn’t clean it well the other day, causing you and the rest of your friends to get a long cleaning speech. No that’s not it.

Regardless you sat down beside Jean and across from Eren, feeling your mood go down as Hange continued with the heavy topic. “I figured the Church would want to deal with Nick since he was cooperating with the Scouts.” Hange explains, “that’s why I hid his identity and had him stay in the barracks, but….to think they would use soldiers to kill him. I was too careless. It’s entirely my fault.”

The room goes quiet for a minute, growing the tension thick enough that it felt as if you were carrying it on your shoulders. You tried to ease the tension, but such a grim topic was hard to brush off, especially as Armin decided to add onto the weight of the tension. “The military police…did they torture Pastor Nick just to find out what information he spilled to us?”

Levi sets his cup down and answers Armin in the same serious and unaffected voice. “Most likely. But it was the Interior Military Police, which means there’s something more behind it. So,” he turns and looks to Hange. “How many nails did Nick have ripped off?”

“Huh?”

“You saw, right? How many?” Levi asks, making you swallow thickly and tighten your hold around your teacup.

“I only caught a glimpse of him,” they answer, “but all the nails that I could see.”

“People that talk, talk after one.” Levi explains, “if they don’t, peeling more won’t make a difference.” Levi looks away from Hange, but continues, not noticing how you began to quickly tap the side of your cup out of uneasiness of the gruesome conversation. Perhaps it was something you needed to get used to, but fighting and killing Titans was one thing, talking of hurting human beings was something else completely. It was never part of your job, nor anyone else’s in the Scout Regiment.—“Pastor Nick…I thought he was an idiot, but. He didn’t turn away from what he believed, all the way til the end. In other words, they have no idea we’ve caught wind of the Reiss family. Though, someone in the government is up to no good, and their eyes are fixed on us.”

Right as Levi finishes, the front door opens and a soldier named Nifa, from Hanges squad, walks in and heads directly towards Levi to hand him a note from Commander Erwin. “I went to tell him about Pastor Nick, but he sent me off with this.” She shares while Levi reads the words on the small paper that made his eyes narrow deeper, and his shoulders stiffen much tighter. Once he finishes reading the note he looks up and urgently addresses the whole room.

“Everyone, out. We leave now.” Levi announces while he stands from his chair. “Leave no trace we were here.”

There was no moment of hesitance after Levi’s announcement, what little you all brought was packed in your personal bags. After that a blood pumping rush ran through everyone as you escaped the cabin to get to higher ground, and deeper into the forest where you could only hope no one was in. With the adrenaline that rushed through your veins you didn’t feel the chilly evening air, nor really catch that you had walked far until everyone stopped on a hill that overlooked the cabin getting raided by military police.

“That was close,” you breathe out while you tear your eyes from the scene down below.

“If we hadn’t left right then, what would’ve happened to us?” Connie asks with his eyes peeled back widely, expressing the shock and slight fear that ran through him.

You glance at Connie to answer his wondering question. “We would’ve been caught, Eren and Historia would’ve been taken and they probably would’ve left us for dead after beating us up.” You’ve seen it happen once when you lived underground, you weren’t supposed to see the Military police beat up a couple of young teens trying to take some food, or whatever it was they had taken, but Furlan, nor Levi managed to pull you away from witnessing the scene in time.

Nonetheless, Connie's head slowly shifts to you with his eyes expressing more horror after your words. His lips part, but all he does is inhale a small breath of air before you turn to check out the small patch of woods in front of you—you couldn’t apologize for your honesty that he hadn’t witnessed before, that he was blind to due to where he grew up. He had to know, those who didn’t know before had to know too. The world was a beautiful place, but life inside the walls also had their own monsters.

“But why?” Armin inquires, “what would make Commander Erwin…?”

“New orders came from the government.” Levi revealed. “There’s been a freeze on all Scout Regiment activity outside the wall. They’re telling us to hand over Eren and Historia.” At Levi’s words, you once again turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, feeling yourself full with buzzing curiosity at the new piece of news that just kept piling on.

“By the way,” Nifa interjected, “right after he gave me the message, the Military Police came for him.”

“They’re treating him like some sort of criminal!” Hange exclaimed bitterly.

“Someone’s not working from the shadows anymore,” Levi continued, “they’re moving for all eyes to see.”

“To go far to protect the wall's secrets.” Hange added while she faced Levi. “What’s more, why do they want us to hand over Eren and Historia? Not to kill, but for them to obtain?”

You clench onto the rifle in your hands and suggest, “Control?” You turn around and continue to add your thoughts out loud. “Whoever is deciding to finally come out and play, is no lowlife scum.”

Levi glances at you and nods, “you’re right. But,” he says as he looks away. “Who knows? Anyways it’s clear the enemy is after these two. Loitering around here is dangerous. We’re moving her and Eren to Trost District.”

“Why?” Moblit protests. “That’s the same place Pastor Nick was killed.”

“It’s worse to head towards the interior. With Trost in a panic, it should be easy to slip in,” Levi says, “and if somehow it comes down to it, we can use these in the city.” He pulls a side of his cloak and looks to his odm gear. “Plus, not knowing the enemy puts us in a tough spot. We need to find out who’s behind this.” he looks to Hange. “Hange, lend me some of your squad.”

“Of course,” they don’t hesitate to answer while they tap their chin and glance down for a brief moment, before once again facing the group. “All right, I’m going after Erwin.” They continue to turn to the man beside them. “Moblit with me. The rest of you will follow Levi.”

“Roger!”

As Hange climbs on their horse, Eren calls to them and hurries after them. “Hange! Here.” He hands them a folded up paper. “I remembered a conversation between Ymir and Bertholdt. Didn’t get to tell you, but it’s here.”

“All right,” Hange says as they grab the note and stuff it in their pocket while they climb onto the horse. “I’ll take a look at it later.”

“Be careful,” you wave at them, making them shoot you a faint smile before they ride off with Moblit. The rest of you being left having to walk through the forest as the sun set further by each passing second.

Levi led the squad, leaving you behind to eye the shadows that lurked in the forest that surrounded you. You wanted to distract yourself by thinking that running from the Military Police, and being seen as some criminal must be nostalgic to Levi since he left the underground to escape that life, but now it seemed it followed him here. Just like it also followed you, something he had wanted to avoid when he thought of making a life above ground. It’s funny how that works.

Regardless, the sun disappeared completely, taking away the security of its bright light and leaving you in a freighenting darkness that lamps couldn’t ease its eerie presence, making you walk closer to one of the people that could bring comfort to this traumatizing situation, Jean. “Why is it that we always have to move in the dark?” You grumble.

Jean glances at you and answers. “Because it’s better to hide in the dark. We aren’t as easily spotted.”

“I know,” you sigh deeply, “it was a rhetorical question.” Your eyes flicker over to him and right as you were going to meet his gaze you look up at the hat on his head, and you can’t help but smile. “I—”

“Don’t laugh,” he grimaces bitterly.

“I wasn’t,” you lift your hands whilst you meet his gaze. “Honestly. I was going to say that I like your hat. I think it looks nice. It gives off, uhmm,” you tap your chin and look ahead. “Cowboy type of vibes, or,” you clap, catching the brief attention of Armin and Eren in front of you, “some sort of a gangster.” You look at Jean again and tilt your head, noticing he seemed to be holding his breath and that his eyes had lost their intimidation. “Maybe that’d work better with a suit though, so cowboy it is.” You grin but he’s quick to look away. “It’s a nice look on you, Jean.”

Unlike Eren, Armin's eyes stayed on Jean and you for a moment longer to study your gestures, and hear the words coming out of your mouths. He could think nothing of it, after all he thought of Jean and you as a weird pair of friends. But he was quick enough to catch Jean’s flustered expression hidden under the hat he had on, and that set off a new curiosity within him that he wanted to further explore.

“Whatever,” Jean brushes you off with his head completely facing away from you, and his expression hidden by his hat.

You scoff lightheartedly and roll your eyes. “It still looks pretty ridiculous at night though.”

“It’s so they don’t recognize me,” Jean snaps.

Your eyebrows furrow and you snort. “Who's going to recognize you out here at night? The shadow man? A ghost? Or maybe a raccoon?”

Jean slowly turns his head to glare at you. “You’re about to become unrecognizable.”

“Oh,” you smirk, “I’d love to see you try.” You look to the front of the group and point to Levi with your eyes. Jean scoffs and leans closer to you to whisper. “Yeah, consider yourself lucky. For now.” He squints his eyes, “but watch your back. Cherry.” He mocks.

Your smirk deepens and you lean in closer to him too, holding his gaze intently and licking your lips as they tug to a smile. “Again. I’d like to see you try. Jean-boy.” Your eyes linger on his for a while, noticing that his lips turned to a smirk as he held his confidence high, not letting show the feelings that he felt fluttering inside. A tension rose between the little gap between you, but you were oblivious to it, unlike him. But he did nothing to point it out and make it clear to you, all he did was watch you blink and look away. After that you proceeded to part away from him and fall at Levi’s side. “Hey, Levi, so how are we planning to sneak into Trost with Eren and Historia? A big group will attract attention, and what if there's some dressed up Military police members in the crowds already expecting us?”

Levi glances at you before he looks at Jean and Armin over his shoulder to simply say, “I have a plan.”

——

“This is so, so stupid.” Jean grumbles beside you.

You shoot him a side glanced glare and nudge his arm. “Shush.” Your eyes return to the streets you’re marching through and they scan every stand open as you pass them, they lift to the roofs and catch the flags that hang from roof to roof sporting bright colors, your eyes search the crowd that is unusually big and clustered, falling from person to person no matter how young or old they are. One just couldn’t be too careful, you needed to look over your shoulder….it needed to become second nature no matter how bad that sounded. You needed to think as if every person that wasn't the Scouts, your friends and family was hostile, even if you hated to think that way of people.

Every person was against you until proven otherwise. Or at least that’s what Levi says in a time and mission like this. But it was so hard to think that way, especially when you saw the hungry and homeless people on the streets asking for food, or money after the destruction created in the city. And it seemed now there were a lot of those around, cities above ground were beginning to look like the underground, it was hard to see their sad and angry faces. So you had to put your hood over your head to avoid searching for those hallowed faces.

“So what, I can’t complain now?” Jean snaps in a sharp whisper. “He does that a lot.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “and it’s annoying. So shut up.”

Jean shoots you a brief glare before he picks up his pace to leave your side. And if it wasn’t for his undercut and his tall figure, from behind his wig would fool you into believing he was the boy he was pretending to be. Not the front though, you could pick him out in a crowd even with the wig on, he….had a very long one of a kind face.

“Try not to walk in a cluster.” Levi repeated to the group, “we’ll stand out. Eren and Historia, just walk normal.”

If he kept talking like that every ten minutes, someone would notice, no matter how far apart you’re all spread out.

“Why is the royal family’s flag hanging everywhere?” Connie asked as his eyes roamed the colorful flags overhead.

“Oh! Today must be the anniversary of the King's coronation.” Sasha answered, making your eyes return to look at the flags over your heads. “Once a year, they hand out a haul of rations.”

A man begins to announce what Sasha had pointed out, but your attention goes to the flower stand you walk by and your eyes get lost on the big, beautiful bright yellow sunflowers decorating the front of the stand. A soft smile tugs on your lips and a gleam sparkles in your eyes. You’re tempted to walk to it and buy some since they were your favorite, but you hold yourself back…as hard that was. It was such a brief moment that you didn’t think anyone would catch you, but someone did, they just didn’t say anything and instead admired your smile as your eyes remained on the yellow petals. When you pass the stand, you pull your eyes off the flowers and notice your group came to a stop, and before you could bump into Connie, you stop in your tracks and listen to what Sasha commented over the man’s announcement.

“What a king! He sure is generous!”

You scoff at her comment and before you could remark something, Levi beats you to it. “He’s got more than he knows what to do with. People are weak, especially when baited with food.”

“I have an idea,” you scoff, “they could take some of those rations underground. There's a lot of people who really need it down there.” You glare at the announcer as if he was the King in charge.

“We’re considered riff raff down there,” Levi replied to your bitter comment. “Or don’t you remember? They didn’t care about us, they still don’t care about them.”

“Yeah,” you huff out after you return your gaze to the path ahead. “I remember.”

The walk after that talk is quiet, uncomfortable and nerve wracking as no one knew when someone was going to attack your group and take Jean and Armin, or should you say, “Eren and Historia.”. Everyone had to keep looking over their shoulders and keep their guard up, only making yourselves more suspicious. Part of you believed you would get away without getting attacked, but you needed to for the plan to work. And it did happen as Levi had planned—“Watch out! Behind us!” Levi bellowed after he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Before you could look back, you heard the speeding carriage racing your way that he had warned you about. As it sped past you, you jumped out of the way and had to hold back from fighting their attempts as you watched them take “Eren and Historia”. Yet you couldn’t help yourself from screaming out their names. “Je—Eren!” Sasha seemed to have the same trouble as she yelled out for Armin, but soon corrected herself and called out for who they were pretending to be. And even if you were going to save them regardless, the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen and you had to fight the urge not to instantly catch up to them. Really just run after Jean.

*A FEW MINUTES LATER*

“Calm down Cherry,” Levi assured you from behind you. “You reek of anxiety. We’re going to save them.”

You gnaw at your cuticles and take a deep breath. “This plan is shit. I can’t stand not knowing what they could be going through.” You lift your eyes and pull your thumb away to stand up as Mikasa joins you on the roof. “So?” You instantly ask her impatiently. “How is it going inside?”

“If we don’t hurry, they’ll see through Armin's disguise.” Mikasa informs Levi and you before looking away from your worried gaze. “And I feel bad for him.” She lowers her head.

Shit—you lift your finger to your lips and begin gnawing once more as you sink down on the roof, hearing Levi respond with a simple, “I see.”

“How is your leg?” Mikasa looks back at him. “Any better?”

You look over your shoulder, seeing Levi peek over his own before grabbing his knee and answering. “I can move well enough. It’s not bad, thanks to the things Cherry made for me.” He looks back at the streets below. “More importantly, these kidnappers…they’re nothing but amateurs. Why would they be using guys like this?” He stands up and takes a step forward, letting your eyes, like Mikasa’s, watch him carefully. “You both can handle the rest on your own. I’m heading for Eren. Once you’ve dealt with the trash, come and meet up with me.” He keeps walking ahead, assuring himself with the short comprehensive answer Mikasa gave him. “One more thing,” he stops at the edge of the roof and looks back. “I’ll tell you, just in case. Tell Armin and others, too. From now our enemy won’t only be Titans,” he pauses and looks away. “But other humans too.”

Your eyes widen and it feels as if all the wind had been knocked out of your lungs. You part your lips to argue, to interject with anything against his comment, but there was nothing you could say, even if you could, Levi left before you could think of anything. After that you tried to look at Mikasa, to see if she was struggling like you were, but she remained expressionless, and cold, or at least that’s what she wanted you to believe. You didn’t know what she was really thinking. She was a lot like Levi in that way.

Nonetheless, there’s a silence that falls over after his comment where you feel your whole body stiffen, and your heart sink to your stomach. Your body grows cold and a grim feeling takes over your anxious state for a brief moment where the silence feels deafening, and the question of “can I really do this?” Begins to linger in your head, making you nauseous. That question was brief before your mind was overridden by instincts that told you that you could and it was the right thing if it came to it, but your conscience told you otherwise. It turns you gloom and makes you stiff as your instinct, and your conscience battled with one another to have a winner.

Neither of them won. Mikasa interrupted you before the battle could be decided. “Let’s go.” She stands up to fly back to the other roof, but stops once you’re behind her to scold you. “And stop eating at your hands. You’ll ruin your cuticles.”

“Right,” you whisper as you pull your hand away and then follow her to the other roof to fall in your assigned position. When you hear the deep voices inside, you peek your head inside the open window, and prepare your fighting stance as you watch the floor and Mikasa down below. In the center of it all, you could see Jean and Armin tied up with their disguises still intact, which was something that should bring you comfort since they hadn’t been discovered, but seeing them in that position made you uneasy.

Regardless, their disguises were beginning to be questioned by the man leading the small group that walked in the storage room. “You’re sure, without a doubt, it’s Krista and Eren?”

“Yes,” another man nods, “they match the description.”

Yeah sure they do. Armin perhaps resembles Historia in some way, but Jean was not even close. They all sucked ass—you think to yourself, scoffing and rolling your eyes before taking a step closer to the window and meeting Mikasa’s dark eyes after they looked up to quietly signal you.

“Huh? Where’s the guard?” With that question uttered, just as Mikasa moves forward, you jump down the window whilst you take your cloak off and let it float down, while you land on the ground and look up at the tall startled man with a cocky smirk. He tries to reach for his gun, but before his fingers could even touch its cold metal, you jump to your feet and roundhouse kick him to the ground, instantly knocking him unconscious after a single impact to his face.

The other two men who had been up front freeze from the shock, and watch Mikasa and you wide eyed out of fear. They try to reach for their guns, but before they could think of shooting, and without a single word uttered between Mikasa and you, you both sprint towards them. She jumps off the floor and you slide down past her body almost as if the moves were rehearsed; she kicks a man with red hair, while you swiftly get up and swing your leg to kick the other man to the floor. He intended to move after, but he couldn’t even catch your fleeting figure before you pin him to the ground and twist his arm to his back, causing him to groan.

A faint proud smirk tugs on your lips once the thought of what you did registers in your mind, but it’s fleeting before you grow serious again. Instead of thinking too much into what you did, you look back, noticing Jean and Armin were tying up the other two men, leaving you to look up to a window on the roof to address the boy you knew was waiting by it. “Connie! Is it really just the four of them?!”

Said boy pokes his head through the window and confirms your question. “Yeah, that’s it! Nobody else in the area!” Connie finishes, keeping your eyes on him and not letting you pay attention to the man reaching for the gun he had dropped. Not until you heard the whiz of Sashas arrow impact the ground just inches away from your hand, and pinning the gun to the ground before he could try to shoot you. The crash made your head snap to the arrow, and made your eyes widened out of shock.

“If you move again, who knows where I’ll hit?” Sasha threatened the man whilst your heart pounded in your ears.

“H-hey!” Jean began to exclaim in an angry tone. “What if you hit Y/N with that!”

“It’s Y/N’s fault for taking her eye off the prey.” Sasha countered.

You nod and look back to the man under you. “Yeah, no, you’re right,” you interject. “Sorry! I should’ve known better!” You stand up and pull the guy up with you.

“All right!” Mikasa yelled out, “first, we tie these guys up, then we meet up with the captain.”

Armin looks at her and questions her command. “What do you mean?”

“Captain's orders, and he sends a message, too.” She shares with your friends what Levi had told the both of you, and they react in the same speechless disbelief as you. This time though, you fought with yourself not to think about it further. Instead you focus on tying up the man in your hold, before you place him with others in a deafening silence that had set in the storage room.

That was until you were done and spotted Jean with the wig still on his head behind you—“Eren,” you say seriously. “Are you okay?” You stifle a laugh.

“Huh?!” Jean exclaims. “What did you just call me?!”

You turn with your eyebrows furrowed in concern to continue with your act as seriously as you can manage. Which was going surprisingly well. “Oh, it’s you Jean. I forgot, you know with the wig,” you point, “you fooled me.” You shrug. “Sorry.”

His eyes narrow to a piercing glare and a venom laces in his voice. “You’re not funny, you know that?” He snatches the wig off his head and throws it to the ground, before he turns sharply on his heels to storm past you and leave the storage room with his chest puffed out in anger. His reaction makes you giggle and you have to run to catch up to him.

“Jean, come on, I was only joking. Just trying to ease the tension.” You smirk and try to meet his burning glare.

Jean scoffs. “Yeah, just be quiet, I'm not talking to you.”

You snicker and grab his arm, making him go instantly stiff. “Come on, don't be a jackass. I was joking. Of course I knew it was you.” You scoff. “I mean anyone with eyes would know you’re not Eren, even with the wig on.” You look away from him to look at the upcoming large doors, whilst you begin to list what comes to mind. “I mean, you’re much taller, your eyes are brown and his eyes are green, you're more muscular than he is. You’re—” you suddnely cut yourself off and feel your cheeks burn hot after you catch what you had been saying.

You glance at him nervously and pull your hands from his arm, missing the smirk on his lips that had swept away any anger he had felt. “Yeah,” you nod and swallow thickly and pretend not to be affected by the tension you felt fall over you as you look away. “It was obvious.” You clear your throat and begin to fiddle with your fingers as you change the subject. “Anyway.” Your eyes flicker up to steal a glance at him. “How are you feeling over what Levi said? I mean, I know I was just joking around, but I’m being serious now.” You throw the doors open and you both walk out the storage room with Sasha, and Connie in tow.

Jean exhales deeply and pulls his eyes away from you to look ahead at Armin and Mikasa. “I don’t know. For the first time, I really don’t know how to feel yet. I mean,” he pauses, and unfolds his arms to clench his fists at his sides and furrow his eyebrows to glare at the dirt ground. “They’re people…that’s not what I signed up for.”

“Yeah,” you sigh and drop your hands to your sides. “I understand.” You lift your eyes to the sky, managing to catch two brown birds flying past your head. “We signed up to save humanity. Not to fight them. I don’t know what to feel either. I wish I could. I wish I could talk…” you pause, and return your eyes to look ahead and watch Mikasa use her ODM gear to fly to a roof that overlooks the street. You follow Armin and her, and don’t finish what you had thought of saying. Was it obvious that you dropped your comment so abruptly? Yes. But you couldn’t finish it. “I understand.” You end up saying. Your eyes flicker to Jean and you offer him a faint assuring smile.

Albeit Jean didn’t miss what you said. He didn’t return your assuring smile, or nod to say he understood, he stopped you after you walked past him on the roof. “Wait. Talk to who?”

You instinctively want to reach for your wings of freedom patch, but stop when you remember that you weren’t wearing your uniform. It saddened you, especially because even if he was gone, his patch brought solace to your aching heart—“We’ll talk about that later, yeah?” You brush Jean off. “Just don’t give up on us, okay?” You peek over your shoulder and meet his eyes filled with confusion.

Jean answers with silence; no nod, no verbal answer as short as it could’ve been. Nothing but silence as he tried to understand the thoughts running through his head. He was assured that you at least understood his struggle of morals…he knew everyone else did too, but he was assured more with the fact that you did.

——

“Gunshots!” You heard Sasha warn. After you hear her, you look to the roof she landed on with Connie and Armin, and follow where her finger pointed to. “I heard a bunch of shots!”

“You two think something happened?” Jean asks Mikasa and you beside him, while the three of you watch the streets ahead.

“Most likely,” Mikasa answers much more bluntly, before she runs forward to jump off the roof before either of you could protest against her quick actions. It causes Jean, and you to share a quick look that spoke hundreds of words neither of you spoke aloud before he, you, and others followed the sounds of gunshots alongside Mikasa.

Finding the commotion didn’t take long as you flew the sky, Connie was quick to spot Eren and Historia, passed out in their newly styled carriage. Following after them, you spotted Levi—“it’s Levi!” You point out with short lived relief, because after you spotted him, and you and everyone else began to change courses to follow him, some thug flew past and shot at Levi. The thug of course missed, letting Levi pierce his grapple hook in the man’s chest to pull him forward, so he could also fly forward to swiftly slice the man’s stomach.

You were left speechless, stunned, and wide eyed after witnessing the bloody scene, but you kept yourself focused on the chaos you were now in the middle of. You had to.

“Chase the wagon!” Levi instructed the squad once you all got close enough. Albeit, Mikasa is the only one who answered right away—“listen up!” Levi continues after Mikasa. “They’re used to fighting other people! They already got three of ours. If we’re gonna get those two back, you can't hesitate! If you get the chance, you kill! Got it?”

“Roger!” Mikasa answered with inspiring determination.

Yet you couldn’t muster the will to answer like she did. You knew what you had to do, what the right thing was to avoid being shot, but you couldn’t wrap your head around killing other people. Mikasa seemed to be so okay with it, she didn’t hesitate to agree and do what needs to be done. And you admired that, envied her ability to not let her conscience get in the way when it came down to it. It would be easy if you were like that too.

“Armin, Jean! Secure the wagon! We’ll cover you!” Levi’s instruction pulled you from your train of thought, causing your eyes to slide over to watch Armin do as he was told, while Jean hesitated for a few seconds, eventually following orders, but just hesitating after witnessing another person being killed. And even if your stomach churned with the speeding thoughts of potentially having to kill someone, you kept flying forward with your blades slightly trembling in your hands, and your eyes bouncing from the carriage and your surroundings. And in that last moment your eyes fell on the carriage, you caught Jean on the floor and a woman pointing her gun at him as he sat paralyzed with fear and hesitation.

Instinct hit you then, like lightning striking the earth. There was no hesitation, your instinct shot straight through the battle of moral debate. Your eyes determinedly set on the pair, as your mind hit you with the possible outcome of what could happen to Jean paralyzed on the floor. And those thoughts didn’t let you fret to speed forward. “Jean!” Fear and panic laced in your voice, just like they vividly expressed in your face. Mikasa seemed to have the same thought in trying to save Jean, since you caught her also swooping down below. But just before either of you could swing your blades, you both heard a shot that made you both gasp and fly past the carriage.

The loud explosion that came from the gun made your heart stop, and your breath catch in your throat. You turned in the sky to face the scene, but you averted your gaze to avoid looking at the carriage where Jean had been. You didn’t want to look out of fear of what you'd see, you let the sound of the wind howling in your ears sound over your cracking heart. You wanted to turn away and avoid looking, avoid potential heartbreak in seeing yet another of one of your friends dead, but you forced yourself to look so you could witness the outcome.

Luckily heartbreak didn’t come this time though. Armin had been the one that shot first. It left Mikasa, you, and even Armin stunned for a few seconds, more so it left Jean alive and in disbelief. Not like you could rejoice over that fact because three thugs then flew overhead with their guns trained on the two in the carriage. They flew in fast and determined, having Levi get Jean out of the way, whilst Sasha picked up Armin just in time before the thugs could shoot aimlessly and manage to hijack the carriage.

However, determined to not let Eren leave, Mikasa began to follow them. Or at least tried with all her might, because after more thugs began to follow the carriage out of the city, Levi stopped her. “Don’t do it! Fall back!”

“But,” you protested as your legs twitched to move. “We can’t let them take Eren and Historia.”

Levi continued to struggle to fight Mikasa’s attempts to follow after Eren, as fear and panic had struck her heart like it had happened with you only mere moments ago. But unlike you, she couldn’t find instant relief in seeing he was okay, or getting him back to her, she had to stay with those emotions aching her heart, only being able to express them out in a loud cry. “Eren!”

It was a cry that made your feet move forward to try and chase after them. Albeit you also got stopped. “Y/N.” Levi called to you too. “Stop. We have to let them go.”

——

“…it’s okay now. That guy is tied up, and after today you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Jean’s voice sounded through the echoing silence in the storage room. He had been talking to Armin for some time now; in a soft and low voice that you were surprised you could hear. While Armin had tears welled up in his eyes and his words barely came out in soft chokes. You didn’t exactly know word by word what they were sharing to each other, but you knew the context of their conversation, and it involved something a sick guy that had been guarding him and Jean had done to Armin.

It was upsetting to hear Armin so upset and affected by what happened, it made you want to help comfort him, but with your mind in shambles over the news you were all told, you weren’t a good person to talk to at the moment. You couldn’t provide what he needed, but it seemed Jean was patient, and sweet enough to try and comfort Armin. He was the only one.

“I’m sorry it happened, Armin. I am.” Jean continued. “He’s not going to do anything anymore, and I promise he’ll pay for what he did, for what he said to you.”

At the sound of Jean’s words you look away from the plate in your hands and look up at him to steal a brief glance. Noticing his softened, and worried gaze by the bright yellow light of the lamp sitting in the middle of the group, and seeing his hand gently grabbing Armin’s shoulder. And you didn’t know why, but you caught yourself smiling softly at the sweet interaction. Yes, you’ve seen him act kind before, he may act tough, but if you pressed the right buttons he could be soft, but seeing that now made your heart flutter.

The feeling was sudden, but you did feel it, and it was…weird? Yeah….Weird, but also not unwelcomed or wrong. Just weird because you felt it happen with Jean.

Moreover, while you struggled to understand what you had felt, you were caught off guard and got caught looking as Jean’s eyes flickered over to you. You of course proceeded to look away as fast as humanly possible, and instead foolishly looked down at the food in your bowl in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But you werent blind, or dumb, he obviously met your eyes for that quick second before you could look away—fucking embarrassing that’s what that is.

“Are you going to eat? Or are you going to watch your food get cold?” Levi startled you.

“No.” You snap your eyes up to meet his gaze.

“No, what?” He deadpanned.

You shake your head. “No. I’ll eat.” You return your gaze to your food and scoop some up, but just before you could bring the spoon up to your mouth, you drop a hold of the wooden spoon and once again meet Levi’s gaze to ask him a serious question. “Levi, is it,” you pause and sigh, dropping your eyes to your bowl once more. “…is it right to kill people? I mean we’re supposed to save humanity, not kill them. So is what we’re doing, right?”

Even if you were willing to…kill someone in order to save Jean, in that moment your mind and your body were fueled by this instinct. It was only because at that time your mind wasn’t a clustered mess filled with overthinking, guilt and hesitation, your mind was abundantly clear with what you needed to do. But now that you were sitting, the confusing mess in your head returned and doubled in size. You just wanted to clear your mind again, but in a different way with actual answers to assure yourself with. Even if those questions made Levi have to think of a clear answer.

He exhaled deeply and tried to answer your heavy question, but how could he give you a clear answer when he didn’t even know? He could lie and say it was so you wouldn't hesitate and end up the one dead, but he couldn’t lie to you, or any of his squad members. He promised you the truth ever since you were a little girl, he’s lived to that promise even when things got too difficult for you to comprehend. But he’s always had the truth even if he did sometimes avoid saying it. The only difference now was that he didn’t know what that truth was. There was nothing to avoid, there was just a disappointing answer he could give you.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, and heard you exhale deeply with discontent. He wished he had the answer, but he didn’t.

You nod. “Okay.” You then sit in silence while you eat your food, not paying attention anymore to what happened around you until Levi broke the deafening silence moments later.

“What’s wrong? This grimy place kill your appetite?” Levi directed at Armin.

“No.” Said boy shook his head. “Jean, there’s something I don’t understand.”

Jean lifts his head and queries. “What’s that?”

“When I shot that gun to save you. I honestly thought I didn't make it in time.” Armin shared, “sorry, but why was I the one who shot first?”

You lift your head and lift your eyes to look at Jean, seeing him lower his head, and squeeze his eyes shut as his breath trembled while he remembered what happened. “That’s…”

“Because the other person hesitated,” Levi interjected. “It’s true.”

Jean’s eyes flew open and widened from the disbelief he felt at the sound of Levi’s words. He was quick to lose the surprise and instead grow serious. Even if you caught the falter in his voice. “Armin, I’m sorry…I should’ve done what I had to do.”

“I know what it is,” Armin spoke glumly. “The person that I killed…I bet they were a nice person. Someone that was much more human than I am. I pulled the trigger so easily…I did…I’m—”

“Armin,” Levi cut him off. “You’ve got blood on your hands now. You can’t go back to who you were.”

“Why would you say that?” Mikasa remarked.

“Embrace the new you.” Levi continued, “just think, if your hands were still clean…Jean wouldn't be here right now.” He paused for a moment to let silence fill the space so Armin and everyone else would understand his words. “I’ll tell you why you pulled the trigger…Because your comrade was about to die. Armin. Thanks to you getting blood on your hands, nobody on our squad ended up dead. Thank you.”

“Captain Levi.” Jean chimes in after, his eyes facing the light before him and his eyebrows furrowing and losing the uneasiness that were expressed in his face before. “I thought it was wrong to be fighting other humans. And wrong for you to order us to do it. I was afraid to be hurting other people. But…I’m the one who was wrong. Next time. I’ll shoot.”

“I never said anything about who was right, or wrong.” Levi countered, making your eyes drift over to him. “I don’t even know myself. Are you really the one in the wrong?” Levi briefly met Jean’s gaze that proceeded to widen right as he let out a shocked gasp. Neither of them said anything else on the matter, Levi left it at that before he stood up. “Now then, it’s about time we hear what he has to say.” Levi refers to the man you had taken down earlier today, a man you caught now, was Dimo Reeves.

Albeit before you could listen to the rest of the interrogation, Sasha returned inside and tapped your shoulder to gain your attention, “your turn. It should be quiet since the sun is setting.”

“Right.” You sigh and turn to head out. “I saved you some soup I made.” You point to the shitty dented pot on a box. “Eat up.”

Sasha grinned and then sped off past you to do as you said without an ounce of hesitation, letting you proceed to walk off outside and take your guarding post in silence.

Even if you knew time in this place was going to come to an end soon, Levi didn’t want to take any risks and be suddenly attacked, so he assigned a guardwatch outside the storage doors. And honestly even if you were out alone, whilst the sun left and the darkness of the night came, you didn’t mind being outside, it left you with time to think.

What's wrong?—you look up to the beautiful, fierce orange and yellow painted sky, and lean your head back on the brick wall—what’s right? I wish there was a clear answer, or at least something besides “I don’t know.”—It’s not as simple as what you wanted, but it would be something you could wrap your head around and understand.

It would be something.

You exhale deeply and drop your head to look at the dirt ground below your feet. Finding solace in the silence under the evening sky, until your peaceful silence was broken by a sudden long, and sharp whistle that sounded from an alleyway across from you.

“Hey, look at you.” A husky voice then broke through, causing you to snap your head up and look at the alley way. Spotting no one. Yet. “You’ve grown, baby Uri.”

Your eyes narrow on a figure that formed now that it was closer, and your hands wrapped around your hilts. “Now, now.” The voice scoffs. “Has that runt of yours not told you not to bring blades to a gunfight?”A bright gleam shines in the alleyway after the light of a nearby lamp hits the shotguns in the person's hands.

Under the light, you could also distinguish the figure stopping just at the end of the alleyway. You recognized that it was a tall, slim, intimidating old man with a hat on his long hair, and his eyes focused on you while his lips turned to a smirk. You intended to step back, but he pointed his gun at you before you could think of running to get Levi.

“Go in, or shout and I’ll tell my comrades to jump in and kill everyone inside. Be a good girl and stay quiet.” The man threatened.

Instead of showing fear; something you deeply felt in your bones at the moment, you instead narrow your gaze to a glare and lower your voice to a cold, intimidating tone. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man stepped forward and snickered, shaking his head and the shotgun in his hand. “Tsk. Now is that any way to talk to your papa?”

Your attempts at being intimidating, cold and unbothered dropped as everything went completely still and quiet. All except for the sound of your in disbelief grumble. “What?”

.

.

.

Tagged- @expectoscamander @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 @avocadopoosae @romancried @victor-criss-bish @moo-moo-meadow

[fanfictiondreamscape]

Alternate Endings (Pt. 2)

Title: Alternate Endings (Pt. 2) 

Genre: more angst, possibly more than the last part. this is your warning. 

Pairing: Victor Nikiforov x GN!Reader

Notes: This is a part 2 to the previous part, and I still used the angst prompt list from the aforementioned previous parts to form this piece.

With that said, I think that this will be the only part following the first unless I can find some way to continue the storyline. I intend to keep the ending somewhat depressing and sad, so I guess proceed with caution due to such. 

If you want something similar to this for any other character, please let me know, though! I may also mention that this went from a drabble, to a scenario, and now borders on an imagine - I can’t help that I got caught up! 

Part 1

Below the cut! 

You practically fell off the face of the Earth as soon as you left. 

Harboring all of the money you saved and deciding upon negotiations to make with your employer, you left Russia. You left Japan. You just...left. 

Travelling became a huge part of your life afterwards, and though many people had tried to regain contact with you, you ignored most of them - save for a few. Only Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuko Nishigori were available to your whims, but they were still advised to stay as quiet as possible regarding your whereabouts. 

You changed your whole appearance, changed your mindset, and even changed something as generally miniscule as your wardrobe. Still, as much as you did change and throw away, you couldn’t rid yourself of the many frivolous gifts that Victor had given you over the years. 

Some things you just can’t give up, but you knew that it would be fine. At the very least, you had something that would never let you forget about him. 

Victor, on the other hand, fell off the deep end. 

He had come across the note you’d slipped under his hotel room door and for the first time in a long time, he cried. A true mess was what Yuuri had come across, and as many times that he was able to help him through unconventional methods, this was nearly impossible. 

Victor didn’t leave Japan, but he did become so reclusive that even Yakov was extremely worried upon finding out about the occurrence from an offhand comment that Yurio made when talking to Yuuko over the phone before practice. 

Everyone around him saw the typically extravagant man become so dulled by misery that it became painful to watch. 

He didn’t even know where to start since he’d already tried to find you - looking everywhere that he knew you loved, everywhere that he knew you were often obligated to be at - but had failed to do so. 

It wasn’t until, when Yurio was free, that he overheard him and Yuuko talking at the front desk of the rink as Yuuri was warming up and he was getting his skates on. 

“Yeah, they’re in America right now. They just got a raise, actually - they were even thinking of dropping in when they get enough saved up,” Yuuko recollected, excitement dripping from her tone. 

“Well, they’d have to come by when Victor isn’t here. That would also mean that I’d be gone, but at least you could update me,” Yurio responded. He seemed more nonchalant about the whole thing, but Victor became hysterical. 

Granted, he did suppress what he could to eavesdrop further. 

“Of course! I am still a little worried about them, though - you remember how Victor had gone crazy trying to find them?” Yurio grunted in response. “Well, what if he decides to do something impulsive again and leave mid-competition?” 

The light-blonde teenager in front of Yuuko flinched at the thought. “That’s a good point...but we’ll never know unless it happens when it does.” 

A solemn chill fell upon the two, but the conversation split onto Yurio’s next routine and Victor left it to them. He stared wide-eyed, in pure disbelief, at the wall of lockers in front of him. 

“So they’re...(Y/n)’s in America....”

Ideas began to run through his head as the room became eerily quiet. Even Yuuri, who was sat in the corner and preferred a calm and quiet atmosphere, was perturbed by the sudden shift. 

“I know what I’ll do! Yuuri, skate if you want - I’m going to be out for a while,” Victor announced, generally resembling the flamboyant figure skating icon that everyone knew. 

He took his skates off and capped the blades, putting them into his bag and reaching for his cell phone and scrolling through listings. Katsuki was left dumbstruck, but he went on about what he was doing and decided to run through his routine a few times. 

Yurio had left by this point, and Yuuko was too far in the back to catch the tall man’s outburst. 

It wasn’t until the next day that he was extremely prepared and anyone who understood his issue was suspicious. Victor had hunted for every listing to America from Japan, and memorized the closest ones. Yuuko was the one person who was going to be there that he had to ask. 

“Yuuko, I must ask you something! Would you mind?” was Victor’s burning introduction, shocking the normally upbeat mother. She was a little taken aback at the bold attention grabber. 

“Mmm, yeah?” She tried to be as ‘typical’ as possible, considering that her suspicions were up now. She knew what was going on, she knew what Victor was burning for. 

“You said that you’ve been in contact with (Y/n), yes?” 

Yuuko deadpanned, eyes blank and dropping the facade that she was going to attempt to maintain. “I knew it. Listen, I know that you’ve been troubled since they left, and that they have been as well, but please - give them some more time.” 

Victor visibly deflated. He didn’t think it would work, really, but it was worth a shot. Maybe, just maybe, though.... “How about a hint? Is it hot? Cold? What is a landmark?” 

“No, Victor. Sorry.”

And he was back to his dejected being by the next hour. 

Victor was willing to annoy both her and Yurio, but gave up once they stood their ground with firm hold. “No. (Y/n) is fine, and they will come when they want.” It was always the answer, no matter who he asked. 

Daily, Yuuri would keep him company and skate to the best of his ability. It seemed to quench his troubles just a little bit before the up and coming competition season. 

Eventually, the Grand Prix rolled around again. Yurio was competing, as well as Yuuri, and Victor was there to maintain support for his ever-promising prodigy. 

Amongst the drama that had ensued, the two of them decided to take a break romantically and focus on the practice rather than devote too much issue to their worryingly stagnant relationship. 

It wasn’t until Yurio had pulled Yuuri aside when Victor was getting changed that he was let in on soem information that, had Victor heard, would send him into a frenzy. 

“(Y/n) wanted to me wish you good luck and let you know that they are here to watch. If you wanna talk, they’ll be waiting in the lobby.”

Yuuri almost faltered and told Victor, but decided against it. Your wishes were still high up, even if you two weren’t amazingly close. 

Sadly, Victor was still shaken and hurried. It was a large competition, and as much as he wanted to focus on the task at hand, you never left his mind. 

Over the year that you had fallen out of reach, he began to realize where he screwed up. Maybe he did like you at one time, but he let his own fears get the best of him and he fell to putting more of an interest to Yuuri. 

He truly loves Yuuri, but he truly loved you (romantically) at one point, and you slipped from his reach before he could manage to comprehend anything. 

So, upon making eye contact with a familiar pair of (e/c) eyes and an eerie copy of a blazer that he had given you as a birthday gift years ago, he was left idle. 

“(Y/n)?”

You sucked in a breath and shrugged, sighing afterwards and shaking your head. “Yep, it’s me. Hello, again, Victor.” 

Tears flooded his eyes as he ran to you, arms open and tight as his hug enveloped your frame. You didn’t reciprocate, not immediately at least. With obvious hesitance, you returned the hug, but pushed him away only a couple seconds later. 

“You’ve got a skater to support. We can talk later, okay?” 

“But, you’ve come back and-” 

“Victor. Go support Yuuri.”

He bit his lip, but nodded nonetheless and embarked to the rink. 

After the free skate, the next day’s events were prepared and everyone was sent out for the day. Yurio had caught up with you before heading to his hotel room, and Yuuri had popped in before he changed out of his costume, but Victor was most eager to meet you.

Upon seeing each other, yet again, in the lobby, the two of you parted ways but decided to meet at a restaurant in town. Yuuri would be dining with Phichit and some other competitors, and Yurio was with Otabek going sightseeing, so this was a prime opportunity. 

Silence loomed over the two of you, slow walking and sounds of nature overwhelming your senses. 

“So, you’re probably curious as to where I’ve been,” you began, breaking the tension as calmly as possible. You could have sworn that your heart was going to burst out of your chest if you let the quiet settle any longer. 

“Yes, (Y/n). I really have been.” Victor, for once in the time that you have known him, was quiet. He was never really afraid to speak to you about anything, but the way he was acting now let some of the more obvious pain show. 

“I’ve also been extremely worried. I never realized that you felt like that.”

You stopped upon the sentence, eyeing a nearby bench. Victor followed suit and looked down at you, eye contact being maintained. His gorgeous blue eyes were glassy and he appeared on the verge of tears. 

“(Y/n), darling, I never realized how much you actually meant to me. I was stupid. I- I really, truly did love you. I always thought that you were too good for me, though, so I tried to make the ideas disappear. It worked, but only for a while. I love you, (Y/n). Honestly, I really do, and...

“I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.” 

Your brows furrowed at his proclamation. The thought had never really crossed your mind, but you had always been drawn to his personality and how driven he was. You knew that he would do this, though, as he could also be notably daft regarding certain things. 

“Victor, I-.... Listen, I loved you at one point, but you found Yuuri. You found your match. You made your decision. Out of respect for you and him, I left. But I also did it to respect myself.

“I know my habits. I know that I can fixate, so I needed to get out of your hair if I wanted to feel better. So I did. I’m engaged now, Victor, and the person that I met is amazing. I thought that could have been you. But it wasn’t, and I’m okay with that now.” 

“You- you’re engaged?”

“Yes, yes I am. We haven’t planned our wedding date quite yet, but it is being discussed. The fact of the matter is simple: I knew what would happen if I were to stay, and as much as I love you, - platonically - staying here wouldn’t do me any good. Life comes, things change, and sometimes we just gotta give up.”

Silence fell on you two yet again, but it was interrupted by the slight sniffling coming from the tall Russian. 

“Victor, I came back not because I wanted to fight for your affection, but because I’ve been worried about you. I just want you to know that...I still do care for you, and I have still supported you and Yuuri. But what you want, what I wanted...that’s not possible anymore.” 

Pausing, you thought over your next words. Nothing was ever going to completely repair what was broken, but at the very least, you could try. 

“How about this? Here’s my new number,” you handed him a small slip of paper with the nine digits printed on it in your handwriting. “Let’s start talking again, and you can meet my fiancee sometime. Sound good?”

His mood nearly took a 180, but his demeanor was still sullen and sad. A weak smile crossed his face, and he responded in kind, “Of course. How about we go back to the group and enjoy dinner, though? You’re here again, and it’s more than I could ask for - but we have a lot of catching up to do.” 

[petertingle-yipyip]

SIN MIEDO - BUCKY BARNES (THREE)

EPISODE THREE : POWER BROKER

series tags: @calums-betch​​ // SM masterlist // another madripoor gif bc i loved those scenes

Pairing: Stark!Reader x Bucky Barnes (platonic/flirty)

Word Count: 9,209

Summary: Leaving John Walker in the dust, Y/N had to follow Barnes to a shifty contact. That leads them to Madripoor and an unexpected, and suspicious, ally. Juggling her grief, her control, her own doubts, the pressure of Walker on their tail, and a school girl crush, can she handle the fight?

The next day, the three of you found yourselves in Berlin. You weren’t surprised how easy it was to get through security. Flashing a smile and an ID with Stark on it opened pretty much any door. Surely it had nothing to do with Sam working with the Air Force again.

“Last time I was in Germany, we weren’t on the same side.” You commented nostalgically as you three followed the security guard. “How the tables have turned.”

“I’m gonna go in alone.” Barnes said as you all approached the last corridor.

“Not a chance.” You laughed as Sam said “Why?”

“You’re Avengers..” Barnes reasoned. “You know how he feels about that.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolicking in the sun together.” Sam mocked.

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history. Trust me, I got it.” Barnes assured before turning to leave. When Sam didn’t stop him, you did.

Quickly you reached out and grabbed his wrist. You made no effort to pull him back and he didn’t exactly pull away from you. He looked back at you with a stern expression, that he wasn’t going to cave.

“You’re not going alone, Barnes.” You said seriously, tightening your grip on his wrist slightly.

“Y/N-“ He tried.

“No.” You cut in. “I don’t care. I can do this all day.” You offered with a slight smirk.

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before caving. He nodded slightly, his expression betraying that he was slightly impressed. “Fine. Hurry up.” He said, nodding for you to follow.

“Yessir, Sergeant Barnes.” You chuckled as you followed behind Barnes. The comment earned you an eye roll and a scoff, but nothing was said.

“You sure you want to do this?” You checked as you two waited for security to let you in. “I can handle it on my own..”

“I can do it.” He nodded as you approached the cell.

“I’m sure you can.” You shrugged casually. “It was more about if you wanted to.”

You stayed a couple steps behind Barnes, using the shadows to stay mostly out of sight. You didn’t want to talk to Zemo, let alone be in the room. But part of you wanted to make sure that nothing happened. You didn’t know if you could stop Barnes if Zemo triggered the Winter Soldier, but you probably had the best shot.

You watched Barnes’ body language carefully. From your angle, you could see the look on his face. The tension of his shoulders. The hand you could see was in a tight fist. There was a certain fear in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched. You could tell that a part of him, even if it was a small part, was scared that Zemo would send him back to the Winter Soldier.

Zemo tried the trigger words but earned no reaction from Barnes. You let out a breath of relief and saw Barnes’ shoulders relax as that tension left him. You didn’t doubt that Barnes had control, that his time in Wakanda was enough to rid his mind of HYDRA’s influence, but you also knew Zemo was crafty. You didn’t trust that he didn’t have a couple tricks up his sleeve. But then again… So did you.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Zemo said, catching your attention. “It was never personal.”

“Seemed kinda personal.” You muttered to yourself. You were anxious, shifting your weight between your feet. You wondered what Sam was feeling back in the hallway but you couldn’t go back. The tension in your body was begging for a release, seemingly burning it’s way through your skin. There was a crackle of electricity between your fingers, a skill you hardly had a grip on. You only figured out how to use it in quick bursts or it would build itself up in moments of high tension.

“You brought a friend?” Zemo questioned, his eyes turning to you. You sunk deeper into the shadows.

“Someone recreated the super soldier serum.” Barnes said to redirect his attention. There was more control in his tone and it settled something anxious in the pit of your stomach. “I need to find out who.”

“You’re assuming HYDRA has something to do with this.” Zemo said simply, studying Barnes as he spoke. The expression Zemo held, the way he was looking at Barnes like an experiment, tempted you to reveal yourself. Something about it made your skin crawl, but you knew you had to refrain. You needed the info. “Which is why you came to me, which means you’re desperate…” A smug tone laced his voice and made you want to gag. “Lucky for you, and your friend in the shadows, I know where to begin.”

“And in exchange?” You finally spoke, stepping into the small sliver of light and taking your place beside Barnes. “What’s it going to take?”

His sly smile made you instantly regret the question.

Without explaining anything to Sam, you and Barnes led him to a series of tunnels underground. You opted to remain silent through the endeavor, knowing you wouldn’t be able to explain it right. While Sam pestered Barnes about the plan, you were busy finding the best route.

You kept one hand against the concrete wall, tapping your fingers to feel the vibrations. The tunnels were empty save for you three. They lead to a basement where you stopped for Barnes to walk Sam through a “hypothetical”.

“Please tell me this is an actual hypothetical.” Sam looked to you. In the meantime, you were toying with balls of air in your palm. You were balancing on them in a handstand.

“Yeah.” You lied. “It’s a hypothetical.”

Barnes continued to explain everything while you purposefully distracted yourself. You weren’t a huge fan of this plan, but Barnes had a point. Zemo offered a starting point. Walker had nothing. You guys had nothing. Though you’d never admit it, you needed Zemo.

“Speak of the devil.” You commented when you felt his footsteps approaching. You landed back on your feet as Zemo entered the room.

“You’re going back to prison.” Sam insisted.

“If I may-“ Zemo tried.

“No!” Sam and Barnes yelled simultaneously.

“Sorry.” You said with a shrug, bringing your forearms up and slamming them together. The movement called walls of earth to rise and trap Zemo in a thick rock casing. “It’s nothing personal.”

“When Steve refused to sign the Accords, you backed him.” Barnes countered.

“You broke the law and stuck your neck out for him.” You added.

“I distinctly remember you-“ Sam pointed to you. “-were on the other side.”

“My name’s not anywhere on that document.” You corrected. “I was a minor. Wouldn’t have been legally binding.”

“I’m asking you to do it again.” Barnes tried.

“I really think I’m invaluable-“ Zemo began again.

“Shut up!” You groaned, lifting the rock to meet his chin. “I will go all the way up.” You threatened before turning your attention back to the boys. “I’m with Barnes. I know it’s crazy but it’s the best shot we got. And we gotta move fast cause Walker is working on this too.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed finally. You dropped the rock prison and looked to the boys. “You don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair.” Zemo nodded.

“Otherwise, you deal with me.” You said simply. His eyebrows raised in interest, a slight challenge glinting in his eyes. You lifted your hand in front of your face, palm to the side. As you lowered your hand, you angled it so your fingertips pointed at Zemo. You saw his muscles tighten as he struggled but gave in to your control and went down to his knees.

“Dad once said the best weapon was the weapon you only had to fire once.” You said as if you were contemplating the words. “Let’s hope he was right.” You released Zemo before Sam spoke up.

“So where do we start?” He asked.

While Zemo was collecting his things from one of the cars, he explained where to start. He mentioned a woman named Selby as a starting point.

“This whole time you were rich?” Sam asked wildly as you approached a private jet.

“I’m a Baron, Sam.” Zemo answered in a matter of fact tone. “My family was royalty until you destroyed my country.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “The Stark jet is nicer.”

You sat across from Barnes while Sam sat across from Zemo. You weren’t too interested in conversation. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you really care. The sudden movement of Barnes made you snap to attention.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Barnes threatened lowly with a hand at Zemo’s throat.

“At ease, soldier.” You reached over to tug on Barnes’ jacket. After a moment’s hesitation, he came and sat back down.

“I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo said with a solemn nod. He gestured between you and Barnes. “What I don’t understand is the relationship here. Are you two… involved?”

“Don’t push it.” Barnes muttered angrily as you simply rolled your eyes.

Sam talked about the book, that it used to be Steve’s. He bragged about how he suggested something for Steve to write in it. You remembered you had suggested some things for him to look into too, your favorite had been all the horror movies you got him to add.

Sam and Barnes then bickered about the Troubleman soundtrack, to which Zemo chimed in. You groaned slightly, throwing your head back and staring at the ceiling. The conversation quickly shifted to Steve and super soldiers, mildly peaking your interest.

“Cities fly. Innocent people die.” Zemo carried on.

“You forget who you’re talking to.” You laughed in disbelief.

“Pardon?”

“You’re talking about Sokovia… I was there. And my dad nearly died - yet again - trying to save the world… Trying to fix his mistake but no one cared about that part, right?.”

“Only nearly..” He agreed. “I think it’s fair to say the Avengers, none of you were really innocent.”

“And he actually did die to bring back half the universe so excuse me if I don’t share your bitterness.”

“It seems that you do, Y/N.” He analyzed, watching the response your eyes gave away.

“Shut it.” You rolled your eyes.

Conversation quickly shifted to Madripoor. Zemo and Barnes explained what it’s like, what it was. It sounded like a place out of a book, but given that your career was fighting A.I. powered robots and a giant genocidal purple lunatic, nothing was surprising anymore.

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo told Barnes.

A solemn expression came over Barnes. You couldn’t tell if it was regret, remorse, or something else. You leaned forward, resting elbows on your knees. You nodded to motion Barnes to come closer. He leaned forward in the same way.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” You asked quietly. “We can find another way, or we can do this witho-“

“I’m not sitting out.” He cut in. “I’ll be fine. Why do you keep trying to sideline me?”

“You won’t be alone.” You offered genuinely. “Sam and I got your back.”

Later that night, you walked the bridge that led to Madripoor. 

“So who am I supposed to be, exactly?” You asked after Zemo had explained Sam’s character for the night.

“Rosalinda Calvillo Del Santos.” He said, showing you a picture of the girl. “Heiress to a huge cartel ring out of Mexico City.”

“Woah, she’s hot.” You nodded, slightly impressed. “And this dress… Seems like it perfectly matches her style.”

You motioned to the dress you wore. It was a tight, short black silk dress with a 4 inch slit up the right side that showed off your body beautifully. The chest of the dress hung perfectly to keep you covered but still catch attention. The straps were silver jewels in a halter style while additional pieces of thin black silk stretched across your back in a criss cross pattern. 

“She's also a bit sadistic.” Zemo added nonchalantly. “But I’m sure you’ll play that just fine.”

“Fun.” You nodded.

“She kinda does look like you.” Sam commented as he leaned over to see the picture while he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket.

“She can’t be that hot then.” Bucky said sarcastically.

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you pushed Barnes slightly. “You’re just used to girls in the 40’s and the whole modest look, huh?”

“Yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “You ever gonna retire the old man jokes?”

“Maybe, but you have to admit how good I look.” You countered.

“Not a chance, little lady.” He smiled and shot a wink your way as he opened the car door for you.

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, what a gentleman.” You said sarcastically, holding a hand to your chest. “I’m so flattered.” You patted his chest as you sat down, scooting to sit in the middle.

The car ride was quick, although the motorcycles that surrounded your vehicle put you on edge a bit. The cold feeling of Barnes’ vibranium arm pressing against your own arm was the only thing that managed to keep you from burning through the car.

“The bracelet needs to come off.” Zemo pointed out on your walk to the bar.

“Excuse me?” You answered quickly, your opposite hand moving quickly to defend the metal cuff.

“Rosalinda only wears gold. She’s never been seen with anything else.”

“But this bracelet is-“

“Hideous” Zemo cut in.

“No! It’s from my dad, jackass!” You argued and stopped your steps.

“Here, let me have it.” Barnes held his hand out, to which you simply took a step away from him. “Y/N, come on.”

“No, I- I can’t take it off.”

Barnes sighed slightly before sliding two fingers under the collar of his shirt to pull a small chain out. He reached behind his neck to unclasp it before offering it to you. “Put your bracelet on here. Nothing’s going to happen to it.” Barnes explained.

“What are…” You asked softly as you reached for the chain. Your fingers grazed the small metal shapes dangling at the end, turning them so you could read the inscriptions. “James Buchanan Barnes..” You read silently. “These are your tags.. Barnes, I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Y/N..” Sam tried gently. “It won’t be that long, I promise.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed reluctantly. You handed Barnes back his chain before reaching for your cuff. You put two fingers together above the metal cuff, focusing on separating it enough to slide your wrist out. Your eyes lingered on the band of lighter skin that was hidden by the cuff, proving to everyone around you that you never took it off. Once you freed your wrist, the cuff circled the fingers you used to open it. You glided it to hook over Barnes’ chain, connecting your fingers again to reconnect the metal. “Please don’t lose it.. It means everything to me.”

“Trust me.” He nodded as he reclasped his chain around his neck. He tucked the tags and your bracelet under his shirt and patted it lightly. You smiled gently in thanks before turning back to the door.

“Good. Now, escort her in.” Zemo instructed Bucky. Barnes held out an arm for you to take so you looped yours through his, making Zemo click his tongue at you. “Other side.”

“What difference does it make?” You asked in annoyance.

“The Del Santos family -especially Rosalinda- loves to show power.” He explained. “Having the Winter Soldier makes you powerful, but being on that side-“ He pointed to Barnes’ metal arm. “-shows it off… They also know how to barter for that power, if you know what I mean.” He gave you a pointed look and nodded towards Barnes, assuming you would understand what he meant. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but you understood.

“So treat him like a trophy?” You replied with a raised brow as you stepped around to switch sides. “Easy enough.”

“Oh god.” Barnes mumbled under his breath. “Don’t abuse this.”

“I think you’ll like being shown off a little.” You smirked slightly, keeping your head high as you followed Barnes’ lead into the building. “I’ll try not to go too far.”

Like flipping a switch, you fell into character once you stepped into the crowd and instantly made a statement.

“Listo para cumplir, Soldado de Invierno?” You said simply, keeping your head high and shoulders back as you followed Barnes through the crowd.

You heard the whispers, asking if that was really the Winter Soldier. You had to admit, it gave you a feeling of pride in your chest to see everyone look at you in awe. The respect in their eyes when they met yours was interesting. It was different from the respect you got as Y/N Stark. There was an underlying tone of fear in the looks as well.

Your small group stayed at the bar, Barnes kept his head on a swivel while you leaned your elbows on the bar top behind you. You lazily turned your head to check on Sam but saw the bartender slicing open a snake.

“Al menos no tengo que hacer nada que… asqueroso.” You said to Barnes before chuckling. He made a small sound of agreement, the tiniest hint of a smile toying with his features. “Vamos. Diviértete, soldado.”

“Mi misión es protegerte.” He replied in a flat, monotonous voice.

“Ay, díos.” You groaned, turning to face the bartender. “Señor? Bourbon, neat. Please.”

“Since when do you drink, Santos?” He nodded in amusement as he poured your drink.

“Well, it’s been a rough week.” You sighed, lifting the glass in thanks. “Put it on my friend’s tab.” You winked at Zemo before turning back to look at the busy crowd.

“You lot aren’t welcome here.” A bald man came up to Zemo.

“We have no business with the Power Broker.” Zemo started. “But if he insists…”

“He can come and talk to me.” You cut in, resting a hand on Barnes’ shoulder and sipping your drink. “Or bring Selby for a chat.” You shrugged.

“What do you know about the Power Broker?” Sam asked when the man was out of earshot.

“Here he is judge, jury, and executioner.” Zemo said quickly.

“We’ve got company.” You said into your drink. You set the cup down and cleared your throat. “Soldado de Invierno, hora de ir a trabajar.”

The man reached a hand for your shoulder but was instantly snatched by Barnes. You had to give it to him. He was a very convincing actor. It seemed easy for him to slip back into that person, to become the Winter Soldier. You knew it wasn’t really him, but the violent scene in front of you was hard to deny.

Sam saw it too. He looked to you in concern, hearing the same click of the guns that you did. You easily took the few steps to stand between him and Zemo.

“Don’t worry.” You said simply, maintaining the cocky smirk you wore as Barnes did his work. “He’s got this.. But that’s not what that look is about, is it?” You glanced at Sam and saw the expression on his face. It held concern for Barnes but also the flash of a memory when the Winter Soldier attacked you all after the UN bombing.

“You break character and this whole bar is against us.” You used your glass to cover your lips while you spoke. “I don't like this either but-

Before you finished your sentence, Barnes slammed a man on the bar top by his throat. You instantly slipped back into character to respond.

“Buen trabajo, querido soldado.” You giggled with a pat on his chest. He let the man go as the bartender told you Selby was ready. You swallowed the rest of your drink before putting the cup back on the bar.

“Vamos.” You nodded. Barnes held an arm out for you to take, which you quickly did. 

“You okay?” Sam asked Barnes quietly as you followed Zemo to Selby. A sharp nod was the only response Sam got.

You let Zemo talk to Selby since you had no idea who the woman was. You stayed towards the back of the room with Sam and Barnes, your arms still linked. The cold metal against your arm was the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames.

It was easy enough to be Rosalinda. Confident, powerful, demanding respect, beautiful and a little flirty. It mildly shocked you that you could play into her sadism. You didn’t know where you pulled that from. Maybe Nat taught you better than you thought. Outside of that, Rosalinda was close enough to a Stark that you didn’t feel like you were pretending too much. And lucky for you, you learned Spanish as a child. It was the people that knew her that worried you. One wrong mannerism, one wrong saying, and the whole thing was blown.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked after an attempted flirt with Sam. You caught Zemo’s signal, a silent attempt to tell you it was your turn. 

“I suppose it’s more my offer.” You spoke up.

“I didn’t know Calvillos travelled this far.” Selby smiled mischievously. 

“Well I heard you like to play hard ball.” You said with a sly smile. “Del Santos can play too. My offer is him. The Winter Soldier, el soldado de invierno.” You offered confidently, walking a small circle around Barnes. “And the words to control him, of course.”

You traced your fingers along his shoulders, across his back and down his metal arm. You felt him tense under your touch, but his demeanor never faltered. “He will do anything you want.” You added, facing Barnes and gently running your hands down his arms. “I’m sorry.” You whispered honestly. Your expression reset to a playful pride as you spun to take your original place beside Barnes and watched for Selby’s reaction.

“This is a fun surprise. I’m glad I didn’t kill you all immediately.” She said happily.

“You have information I want.” You stepped in front of Barnes, blocking him from her line of sight. “You give me everything I need and I give you him.”

She bit her lower lip as she smiled. Her eyes looked Barnes up and down, and it made you want to gag.

“Hello? Are we going to do business or are you going to ogle him all night?” You asked in annoyance as you crossed your arms.

“A bit testy tonight.” She said with an entertained smirk and your pulse jumped. “You were right to come to me.” She said with a nod. “The serum is here, in Madripoor. You’re gonna want to talk to Dr. Wilfred Nagel. Power Broker had him work on it but it didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still here?”

“Crumbs for free but the bakery will cost you.” She wagged a finger at you. “And before you get cute, you can’t find Nagel with me.”

Before either you or Zemo could offer a rebuttal, Sam’s phone went off. You felt in your bones that it wasn’t going to work out well if he answered that call.

As Sam was on the phone, which Selby made him answer on speaker, she circled you and Barnes. You nodded towards Sam, allowing Barnes to take a few steps away from you.

Before you knew it, your cover was blown and the shot rang out. Selby was dead and the boys easily took down the other two guys in the room.

“This is going to come back to us.” You said as you stood on the other side of the room, as far from her body as you could be.

“Just drop the weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo said, trying to gain control of the situation.

Without other options, you all followed Zemo out and through the streets of Madripoor. Every turn you took, you felt more and more eyes upon you. Phones buzzed every second and you could only assume it was word spreading of Selby’s death.

“I don’t like this.” You muttered.

As soon as the words left your mouth, gun shots sounded. Barnes grabbed your hand and began running with you following close behind. You ducked the shots and grabbed Barnes’ hand a little tighter. You turned to see Sam struggling to keep up.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled.

“Try running in stilettos and a mini skirt.” You replied in annoyance.

“You want to stop them?” Barnes tried.

“I can’t really focus right now.” You answered with an eye roll. You were going to stop and try lifting a rock wall behind you or creating a gust to push them back or even try to summon a quick lightning burst.

Shots came from a high window and took out the two men behind you before you tried to fight back. Zemo came out from behind a dumpster and made a stupid comment about a guardian angel.

“What a coward.” You sneered, Barnes holding you back when you made a move to slap the Baron.

“This is too perfect.” A familiar voice came from the shadows. You pulled away from Barnes and called a small flame to your palm. “Drop it, Zemo.”

“Sharon?” Barnes asked. 

“You cost me everything.” She ignored you guys. You didn’t let the fire go out. 

“Wait, Sharon.” Sam tried. “Someone recreated the super soldier serum. Zemo had a lead.”

“That explains why you guys are here and why Selby’s dead.”

“Why are you here?” You asked carefully.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She scoffed. “And I took the wings for your ass-“ She pointed her gun at Sam. “-so you could save his ass-“ Her gun pointed to Barnes. “-from his ass.” Her gun landed on Zemo. “I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m in Madripoor.”

Sam tried reasoning with Sharon but got nowhere.

“We need your help.” You tried and let the flame in your palm die out. “Please. We- We didn’t have any other options…”

With a heavy sigh, Sharon told you all to follow her. You were the first to follow her footsteps. After a second, the other three came behind you. You were questioning the timing of Sharon’s reveal, but overall you were grateful she showed up. Things weren’t looking great up until then.

“Seems like being on the run treated you better than it treated Sam.” You commented as you looked around at Sharon’s place. 

“If I was going to be a hustler, I was gonna live like one.” She said, a hint of pride in her tone.

The three boys then talked about the art, and whether it was real or fake. Sam didn’t believe them until a quick google search told him the truth. Sharon made you all change your clothes, pulling out a whole rack of clothes for the boys to look through and letting you sift through her closet.

You decided on a fitted maroon wrap-style dress. It was a soft material, fitting the curves of your body perfectly. The spaghetti straps criss-crossed behind your neck. You kept your same black heels and made your way back to the group and took a seat with Barnes on the couch.

Sam and Sharon talked a bit, ridiculing the idea of heroes. She called it hypocrisy, claiming that’s why Sam gave up the shield.

“Wow.” You teased as you sat. “You clean up nice, Barnes.”

He smiled slightly at you. “Hey, I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” He said simply.

“Huh?” His statement took you by surprise. It wasn’t the response you expected. “Right. Yeah, I learned it when I was a kid. Dad tried to teach me French but Spanish was more natural cause my mom's side of the family.”

“You look good too, by the way.” He added and gave you a slight nudge. “Cause I know that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your face.” He said simply. “You give away a lot of emotions in your face.”

“I do not!” You insisted quietly with a chuckle, smacking his arm.

“Yes, you do.” He laughed with a nod.

“Wait a second…” You paused, crossing your legs and leaning towards him. “Were you just nice to me?” You teased with a wide smile.

“Don’t push it.” He chuckled.

“Hey... I’m sorry about using you as bait with Selby. I figured that’s what Zemo was hinting at… It didn’t seem like there was any room for me to say no.” You said honesty. The look in his eyes when you dangled him in front of Selby, you could tell it brought back so much of his trauma. That inability to say ‘no’. You truly had felt wrong for doing it. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Y/N.” Barnes said and put a hand on your leg. Your words were cut off instantly. “It’s alright.. It was for the mission.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” You said softly. “You’re not just an asset or a trophy. You’re my friend.”

“How is the new Cap, by the way?” Sharon asked, drawing your attention.

“Don’t even get me started.” Barnes shook his head.

You dropped your head back to look at her over the back of the couch. “He thought he could bail me out of jail and we’d be best friends.”

“He really thought you needed bail money? ” She laughed as she came around to sit with you two. “And you. You were Mr. America before you were his pet psychopath.” She told Barnes. “Cap’s best friend.”

“She’s kind of awful now.” Barnes said to you.

“She was always kinda awful.” You mumbled while Sam refocused everyone.

“You guys shouldn’t be involved in this.” She said, as if she was warning you. “For your own safety.”

“We got a name.” You added, not leaving any room for discussion. Something about the way Sharon talked to you led you to hold suspicions. “Wilfred Nagel.”

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” She explained.

“I can get your name cleared, Sharon. But we need your help.” Sam tried.

“I don’t buy that.”

“They cleared the bionic staring machine and he killed almost everyone he met.”

“I heard that.” Barnes said, which drew a small laugh from you.

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon countered.

“Let’s call it a deal then.” Sam offered.

“Fine.” She shook Sam’s hand. “Lay low. Enjoy the party. And stay out of trouble.”

“I do like a good party.” You smiled as you stood. You held a hand out to Barnes, who groaned before pushing himself up.

He held an arm out to you but before you took it, you turned to face him straight on. You casually adjusted his suit jacket before your hands moved across his chest. Your hands went to his neck while he watched your hands carefully. You slid both pointer fingers under the collar of his shirt and he tensed slightly. You pulled his chain out and held it with one hand and used the other to release your bracelet. You fit the metal cuff back to its rightful place on your wrist with a proud smile. 

“Didn’t give anything away that time, did I, James?” You said quietly, shooting him a quick wink.

“Shall we?” You asked happily, turning to face Zemo and Sam.

Even though you had a point in being in Madripoor and it definitely wasn’t a party, you were excited for the party. It would be nice to relax, not feel any guilt over your father. Any grief over Nat. Any anger at John Walker. And stress about being an Avenger. You could just be a twenty one year old kid and have fun for the first time in what felt like ever.

You lost the boys in the crowd rather quickly. But it wasn’t a heavy thought in your mind to stay with them. What seemed to bounce around in your brain were your interactions with Barnes through the day. You couldn’t quite figure out if you were flirting with him intentionally or just habitually.

You brushed it off temporarily as your personality. You were a Stark after all. And Starks tend to flirt with anyone… Right?

Regardless, you weaved through the crowd and let yourself enjoy the party for a moment. You enjoyed the music, letting your body sway and spin with the vibrations. It was hard for you to tell where anyone was through the vibrations of the floor with the vibrations from the speakers, but you told yourself that wasn’t your problem. Barnes and Sam would be fine for a little while. You weren’t sure how long you had been dancing when you heard the boy beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” A boy said from your side.

Turning, you were met by a very beautiful boy. He was a bit taller than you, dark brown curly hair that fell messily across his forehead. You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, only that they were looking at you with admiration. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m just passing through.” You answered vaguely. Given your previous escapades through Madripoor, you wanted to be as discreet as you could until you were able to leave.

“You come with anyone?”

“Just a few friends..”

“No boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?” You repeated with a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Girlfriend?” He tried.

“No.” You laughed slightly. “I’ve been out of the dating game for a few years, actually.” You snapped your fingers to show what you meant.

“You’re too pretty to be at a party alone.” He shamelessly flirted.

“Well I’m not alone.” You corrected. “This is actually a friend’s party.”

“Your friends with the Power Broker?”

Before you could voice a response, a hand found your arm. You quickly looked over and saw Barnes at your side, only his eyes weren’t on you. They were on the new guy.

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?” The boy said nervously.

“Come on, Sarge.” You chuckled, noticing the staring and tense shoulders resembled jealousy. But for Barnes, distrust and suspicion was a more likely reaction. “It was nice to meet you.” You told the kid before pushing Barnes to move.

You couldn’t help but wonder… If the party was the Power Broker’s, but Sharon was hosting like it was her party.. Could Sharon be the Power Broker? Or closer involved than she led you to believe at least?

The next morning, you were all walking through an old shipping yard. Sharon was smart enough to grab you a more practical outfit, a skinny fit pair of black pants and a fitted light blue long sleeve and better shoes. You followed Sharon’s lead to crate. While she stayed for lookout, your group of four went in.

You knocked with one hand and felt the vibrations change at the end. You nodded towards the back of the container so Zemo went to take a look and exposed a secret door.

Sam and Barnes went in first, you behind them, and Zemo behind you. The guys tried to get you to take a gun but you adamantly refused, telling them you were a terrible shot and you had weapons of your own. Sam tried talking to Nagel, but he tried to run instead. Instantly, Nagel froze when he saw Barnes.

“You know who he is, right?” You chuckled, something intimidating dancing in your words. It was something you normally didn’t hear in your voice. You usually weren’t the intimidating type but things were different…You were different. “There’s Baron Zemo and me… Well, you’ll see.”

“How about a counter proposal?” Nagel tried. You ignored Sharon’s warnings in your ear. “Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”

“Your life isn’t enough?” Your brows raised as you challenged him. You nodded slightly before raising your hand. Your fingers lazily pointed straight up as you grabbed hold of Nagel’s blood. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, do you?”

“Maybe she’s the intimidating one.” Zemo said, an odd respect in his voice.

You forced Nagel to his knees while Sam kept his gun pointed at him. “I can manipulate air too… I wonder if I could pull it from your lungs since you refuse to talk.”

“Okay, okay!” Nagel broke and told you the whole story after you released him. You were getting good at your new blood trick, and that mildly worried you but you had to push it to the back of your mind. Parts of his story included Siberia, an American who you could only assume was Isaiah Bradley, the Snap, and the Power Broker.

You caught the name Donya Madani, committing it to memory. If she was someone Karli wanted to help, she was someone that could lead you to her.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Barnes asked. When Nagel didn’t answer, he pressed the gun to the man’s temple.

“No!” He said quickly. “But would she-“ He gestured to you. “-be incredible with it.”

“Thanks, but that’s a question I don’t need answered.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall behind you.

“The pure power you hold..” He continued and let out a devious chuckle. “You’re not at all curious?”

“I’m not the kind of person who deserves it.. Trust me. There’s probably as much blood on my hands as his.” You nodded to Barnes. “Just different motives.”

“Aren’t you tired of depending on them to help you? To save you?”

“I know my value. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”

The rest happened too fast to process in that moment. Sharon burst in. Zemo shot Nagel and that drew an interesting reaction from Sharon. And an explosion went off. Barnes had pulled you out of the way before you could get caught up in the blast. 

Your head spun mildly from the quick movement and your ears rang violently. You tried to shake it off but that seemed to only make it worse. You felt a warm stream down the side of your head and realized a loose piece of shrapnel had sliced your forehead.

“You alright?” Barnes asked, helping you to your feet. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded, mildly disoriented. Looking around, you saw the smoke gathering in the room. You put a hand above your head, using it to keep the smoke at the top of the room.

“Ah shit.” He muttered, pushing the loose hair out of your face. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hand away. “We gotta go. These chemicals are going to go off any second and I doubt I can save us from that.”

You got Sharon to her feet while Barnes got Sam. Sam asked about Zemo, but that was the least of your concerns. You four had to get out of there before you were trapped.

You tried using your powers to move the shipping containers or pull a piece of the wall apart but it was too heavy to do in such a hectic environment. There was too much going on for you to really focus. Once you were out, the boys started arguing about whose fault it was. 

“Not the time!” You shouted at them, your back against one of the fallen containers. “We’re blocked in and you three are out of bullets. So either I can try to handle this or we stay here and get caught. Either way, you need to zip it so one of us can come up with something.”

“Just use your pow-“ Barnes tried.

“I can’t do anything when you’re this loud!” You snapped. “Besides, the containers are too heavy. I’m not strong enough.”

You thought out loud to yourself. “I could try a concrete wall but I don’t know how long I can hold it if I’m worried about getting shot.” You chewed your lower lip in contemplation. “I’m too far to try the blood thing… They’re firing too many bullets for me to redirect back… What if I…”

It was so much easier when you had your dad to talk things out with. When you had someone smarter than you and could see a different angle, who could run the numbers and tell you your best chance, everything was so much easier.

“How are you going to handle it then?” Sharon challenged with an eye roll.

“You really don’t know a thing about me, do you?” You laughed in disbelief.

Before she could offer a rebuttal, there was another explosion. A smirk found its way to your face as you got an idea. You quickly hopped the barricade your group was stuck behind, despite the protests from Barnes and Sam. You slid under a hanging metal beam and popped up by the explosion. You shaped the flames away from you four and pushed it towards the people shooting at you. You used what was left as a wall to give you cover for you to get away.

“That’s how I’m going to handle it.” You said with your trademark Stark pride as you met back up with the group.

“You could've got yourself killed.” Sam reprimanded as you four had to duck into a separate container after a gunshot nicked your shoulder. Barnes launched a metal pole through one of the shooters’ shoulders like a javelin before shutting the door behind him.

“Okay.” You groaned, lighting a flame on two fingers. “That could've got me killed.” You ran the flame gingerly along the graze in an attempt to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

“You’re an idiot.” Barnes grumbled.

“Who just saved your ass, huh?” You challenged as he opened the door when the shooting stopped.

“When are you gonna realize you’re not indestructible?”

“When are you gonna realize who you’re talking to?”

The heavy roar of an engine drew your attention and interrupted the sudden tension. The tension and attitude dissipated as soon as it came but you could tell it wasn’t going to be the last time that grievance was brought up.

“Supercharged.” Zemo said proudly as he pulled up in a sleek black car.

You let out a low whistle and nodded in approval. “She is a beaut.” You commented with an amused laugh. “Would it be wrong if I kept her after this?”

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told him. “And you-“ He told you. “-aren’t keeping the car.”

“You’re no fun... Shut up and get in then.” You rolled your eyes. As Barnes climbed into the front seat, you went to the driver’s side - as if proving a point that you didn’t want to sit behind Barnes - and hopped over and into the backseat. “We still need him.”

Sam got in on the other side and after a quick conversation with Sharon, you were ready to go.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked.

“No.” Barnes said simply. You rolled your eyes at his childish antics. You leaned forward and tugged his sleeve to get his attention.

“Move your seat up.” You insisted.

“I’m not gonna move my seat.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t move his seat for me so I’m not-“

“Solo tienes que mover el maldito asiento, Barnes.”

“No me voy a mover“

“Venga, muévete.”

“Por qué debería?“

“Cállate y mueve el maldito asiento. Hmm?” You patted his chest before leaning back. Barnes scoffed, but slid forward slightly.

“Okay…” Sam started, leaning closer to you to speak quietly. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m fluent in Spanish.” You shrugged as you leaned to the middle and spoke in the same hushed tone. “Dad taught me when I was eight-ish. I use it for fun or when I’m trying to prove a point, hence the conversation you just saw. Why?”

“Not that… That.” He gestured to you with one hand and to Barnes with the other. “You guys have been flirting since-“

“Nope.” You shook your head and sat back again. “I’m not talking about that.”

“But you were! Why else would he listen to you?”

“What are you guys talking about back there?” Barnes tried.

“It’s above your pay grade, Barnes.” You answered without thought. “Anyways, Sam.” You turned back to Sam. “I’m a Stark. If there was any flirting, it’s harmless. Starks flirt with everyone.” You shrugged innocently.

“Mhmm.” Sam said unconvinced. “If you guys end up together and-“

“If we end up together I’ll be just as shocked as you.” You laughed. “But it’s not gonna happen. I’m pretty sure he hates me, deep down. You saw how he snapped at me a few minutes ago.”

“So just right now and the other day before Walker showed up, right? That’s what you’re basing this on?” Sam asked, gesturing a small circle in reference to the current scenario. You pressed your lips together in a line while you nodded. “But didn’t he make sure you didn’t make it worse after you got arrested?”

“Sure but-“

“Before we ran into Sharon, he reached for you, right?”

“Okay but wait-“

“And he pulled you out of the way of that blast?”

“I see what you’re saying but-“

“And he only seems to get mad at you when you get yourself hurt!”

“It’s coincidental!” You reasoned quickly with your hands up in surrender. “If he’s gonna like anyone, I highly doubt it’s gonna be me. Wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me.” Sam laughed.

“Cause I push every button I can with him.” You explained. “I annoy him and I talk shit to him and I don’t listen to him. I purposefully see what I can get away with. I’m his annoying roommate/best friend.”

“Right… Because that gimmick never leads to anything…” He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Whatever you say, Mini Stark.” He chuckled.

On the flight back, Sam and Barnes sat opposite each other while they talked. You opted to lay on the ground between them after healing your shoulder and other small scrapes, wanting something flat to let your back relax. As soon as you laid down, you felt your spine pop and practically reposition itself.

Your mind wandered back to the same thoughts it kept coming back to, with the newest additions to your messy brain. Your dad, and if you were doing right by him. Steve, and if you lived up to his expectations. Nat, and how she’d be proud to see you utilizing the skills she taught you. The boy at the party, his unintentional implications of Sharon and the Power Broker. And Barnes… Sam’s suggestion that you were purposefully flirting with Barnes had made you rethink your last interactions with him.

There were comments slipped in here or there, sure. You had played a bit when you took your bracelet back, sure. But were you flirting? Did you.. Did you have a crush on Barnes? No, no it was all in good fun. You didn’t really know him. Why would you flirt with someone you didn’t know? Right?

“Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.” Sam said, which instantly caught your attention.

“That shield represents a lot of things to a lot of people, including me.” Barnes said quickly.

“Yeah, me too.” You agreed from the floor. “My grandfather made that shield… It holds a special place in my heart, kinda the only physical thing from Howard...”

“The world is upside down and needs a new Cap.” Barnes started.

“And it’s not gonna be Walker.” You added.

“Before you destroy it, I’m going to take it from him myself.” He finished.

“Count me in, Barnes.” You said, sitting up when Zemo came down the aisle. You moved to sit by the side of Barnes’ chair and looked up at him. “In it together?” You asked, holding up a fist.

“Together.” He smiled slightly as he gave you the fist bump you waited for.

“Thanks, by the way.” You added softly as Zemo muttered something. “For keeping this safe-“ You shook your wrist. “-and for getting me out the way of that blast. I could’ve died but you didn’t let me.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you die, Y/N.” He nodded. “You trust me yet?”

“Hmm, getting there.” You pondered playfully. “You’re making good progress, but it depends on if you’re still mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You yelled at me..” You realized how silly it was once you said it.

“You could've gotten hurt or even killed and I- I can’t have your blood on my hands too..”

“I know I’m not invincible…” You admitted heavily as you looked between Sam and Barnes. You knew Sam worried about you too, but he and Barnes had different ways of showing it. “I know I’m not Iron Man, but… But that’s the way I’ve always fought. It’s how I learned to fight. One time Steve told us ‘If you get hurt, hurt them back. And if you die, walk it off’.”

“Of course he did.” Barnes chuckled as Sam smiled fondly. 

“It’s what I've always followed. So yeah, I’m a little reckless but I can heal myself so I never worried… But I guess I can try to be more strategic if it would make you guys feel better.” You offered with a small smile.

It was nice to know you had people watching your back, two people by your side that would seemingly burn down the world if it took you. You felt safer than you had with anyone since your dad.

“Why do you call him Barnes?” Zemo asked suddenly. “I thought you were all friends.”

“Wait. Does it bother you?” You wondered honestly, looking to Barnes.

“No, just a little different.” He answered with a small shrug.

“Dad always called him Barnes. Not James, or even Bucky. Guess I picked it up from him. I never really thought about it, in all honesty.” You shrugged. 

“Yes, but that’s very business.” Zemo continued. “It’s so impersonal. If you two have a good relationship like you claim, or the type of relationship you two display… Shouldn’t you call him something more intimate?”

Using your powers, you plucked one of the ice cubes out of Zemo’s drink and flicked it towards his forehead. It smacked the center and left a wet square on his skin before plopping back in the cup. You smiled in amusement and looked to Barnes, who also enjoyed your little trick.

“Mind your business.” You chuckled, leaning your back against Barnes’ seat. You tilted your head back against the seat too, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh.

“Hey.” Barnes tapped a finger against your forehead. “Don’t sleep on the floor.”

“Stark?” Sam laughed from the other side of the aisle. “Get up, kid. There’s an open seat right here.”

“With the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep on the floor of my dad’s lab or in a desk chair leaning on a lab table or even on the lab table.” You laughed while you stayed in your spot. “This doesn’t bother me.”

“Get your ass up.” Barnes tried again.

“Too late!” You announced, dropping to the ground. “Good night.”

You woke up when you all landed. Even though you had napped on the floor, you didn’t wake feeling stiff or uncomfortable. You followed the boys out of the jet and through the Latvian streets.

It was a beautiful country, as many European countries were. Cobblestone streets that carried vibrations perfectly. Intricate stone buildings that were tall but not towering. Simple painted doors to break monotony.

“I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?” Zemo asked, referencing the memorial for Sokovia.

“I did..” You said softly, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

“Did you?” Zemo was honestly surprised.

“After my dad’s funeral, when I moved out… There was a gap between leaving and moving in with Barnes. I didn’t know where else to go or who I was without Tony Stark. So I went to the memorial… It didn’t make anything clearer but it reminded me of a lot.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” Zemo said. You swore you heard sympathy playing in his voice. “He had his flaws but he was a good man.”

“Yeah, thanks, you and the rest of the world are sorry.” You said, somewhat bitterly. “He was the only permanent family I had. No one cared about me like he did.” You felt Sam and Barnes shoot you a look of confusion but you didn’t acknowledge it.

“What about the Avengers?”

“Yeah, they were great.” You shrugged slightly. “It just wasn’t quite the same. I was the most important thing to him, you know? Whenever I was feeling off, he was always there with something fun to distract me. Granted, that something fun was usually a new piece of tech he wanted to test, but it always worked to cheer me up. The world misses and mourns Iron Man, the CEO of Stark Industries and Earth’s best defender. No one other than me mourns my dad.” You explained as you noticed a change in Barnes’ demeanor.

“I’m gonna go for a walk.” He announced.

“You good?” Sam tried.

“Yeah. See you in a bit.” He nodded before taking off.

You lingered outside while Zemo went in. Sam turned in the doorway when he realized you hadn’t moved.

“Little Stark?” Sam asked. “You coming?”

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” You commented, pointing in the direction Barnes went. 

“Yeah but he’s weird.” Sam chuckled. “You know that…. Oh! I see what this is.”

“It’s not that.” You shook your head with an annoyed sigh.

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“Seriously? He’s our friend.”

“You don’t see me chasing after him.” Sam shrugged. “He’s a grown man, Y/N. If he wants to brood and take a walk, let him.”

“You didn’t see it.. Something caught his attention and made him leave.”

“Well I don’t just stare at him so no, I didn’t see anything.”

“Nat taught me to constantly watch my surroundings. To keep my head on a swivel… He saw something I didn’t, but I saw him see it. I just don’t know what exactly he saw.”

“Just come inside.” He sighed. “You can interrogate him when he comes back.”

“ Or I just go check on him… Cause I’m grown too and don’t have to listen to you.” You said carefully, hurrying after Barnes. You heard protests from Sam but none made you turn.

You made it to the alley where Barnes turned. You knelt at the corner, feeling the ground and knocking your knuckles against the stone. You closed your eyes to focus, picturing Barnes and an incoming familiar figure. With an amused smile, you turned the corner.

“Ayo.” You said happily. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“You followed me.” Barnes said, moderately annoyed.

“You made it easy enough.” You muttered before turning to the Dora.

“What brings you to Latvia?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Y/N.” She greeted respectfully. “I’m here for Zemo.” 

[escapewithbts]

hiii I love your writing! It’s so good! So I was wondering if you could write one with Jin (he’s my bias, I love him 🥺) where y/n and him are in a LDR and it’s hard and she thinks he’s going to break up with her but it has a happy ending? They work it out somehow? I am an international army and think this would be so sweet. Thank you! xxx ^^

The Inevitable - Seokjin

Ahh I loved this request! Thank you! Hope you enjoy :)

————————————————

You sighed as yet another call to your boyfriend lead straight to his voicemail. Despite the fact that you both had agreed on this time of day to call, he didn’t answer. You knew he had work today, probably finishing around 7pm as usual, but the time difference was killer for your relationship. You were on your way to work yourself; busy at your job for a solid 8-10 hours after that. Lately Seokjin had been going to the studio in the afternoons, sometimes staying as late as 12 or 1am, then crashing immediately when he got back home. He was busy, you were busy, and it was proving more difficult to find time for each other.

Long distance really sucked.

As you pulled into the parking lot of your work building, your phone’s FaceTime ringer went off.

“Hey, jagiya.” A tired looking Seokjin appeared on your screen as you accepted the call.

“Hi.” You responded curtly, turning off your car.

“How are you today?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He instantly noticed your short replies and sullen facial expression.

“What’s wrong, jagi?”

You couldn’t help but notice his tone sounded more annoyed than concerned.

You rolled your eyes.

“We were supposed to talk half an hour ago, Jin. I have to go into work now.”

Did you sound needy and dramatic? Maybe. But this was how it had been so often recently. You couldn’t even recall the last time the two of you spoke for more than 5 minutes.

He sighed and ran a hand through his dark black hair.

“I know, (y/n), but what do you want me to do? Practice went over again. I can’t exactly stop everyone else just to call my girlfriend.”

His words stung; making you sound so unimportant. You know he didn’t mean it like that, but you still didn’t like to hear it.

“I know you can’t, Jin. I would never ask that of you.”

He continued,

“It’s not easy. I have six other people that rely on me, and all the staff. I can’t just ask to get away randomly. It’s a lot harder for me than you. I’m important.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“I know, Jin, you’re an idol, you’re in the biggest band in world right now, the show can’t go on without you. The world revolves around Kim Seokjin.”

You cringed internally after those words slipped out.

Jin shut his eyes tightly and put a pair of crooked fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not what I meant, (y/n), come on.”

You let out a deep breath and stared into his chocolate brown eyes. They looked sad and defeated.

“I know. I’m sorry.” you paused then went on softly, “I just feel like this time difference has really been messing with us the past few months. We’re both busy.”

Jin rested his head in his palm.

“Yeah.”

Then his head shot back up.

“Hey, maybe you can come visit soon! I’ll have some time off in a few weeks.”

You frowned and shook your head at him, glancing over at your workplace.

“I can’t just take random vacations. I have a job too, you know.”

He cocked his head.

“Yeah, a job you hate,” he retaliated.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“So not the point, Jin.”

All of a sudden you heard a door open and close on Jin’s end of the call.

“Jin-hyung! There you are!”

You immediately recognized the cheerful voice of Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, are you on the phone? Who is it? Is it (y/n)?”

His wide heart-shaped smile and bleach blonde hair popped into view from the side of your screen next to Jin. He waved at you.

“Hiiiii (y/n)-ah!!!! We miss you so much!”

You grinned at sweet j-hope.

“Hi Hoba. I miss you guys, too.”

“Come visit soon, okay??”

You nodded.

“I promise.”

“Did you need something from me, j-hope-ssi?” Jin spoke in Korean to his fellow member.

“We have dinner with Bang PD in a few minutes, I came to get you. The other members are waiting.”

Jin threw his head back.

“Aiiishh, I forgot that was today.”

You watched as more people shuffled into your work building.

“I have to go into work now anyway. Have a good dinner with your boss.”

Jin looked back down at you.

“And have a good day at work. We… will talk later, okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay.”

He gave you a small smike.

“Bye, jagiya.”

You smiled back weakly.

“Bye, Jin. I love y-“

But before you could finish, his face disappeared and all you heard were the beeps of the call ending.

~

Later that night the sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a deep slumber. You groaned and picked it up off your nightstand to see who was calling at such an ungodly hour.

It was Jin.

You sat up and turned on the lamp next to your bed. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. The clock read 2:24am.

“Jin?” you croaked out, your voice raspy from sleep.

“(Y/n)… I’m sorry to call so late.”

You yawned.

“Is everything okay?”

Jin hesitated.

“Yes. Well, no. Not exactly. We need… to talk.”

Immediately your heart started pounding in your chest, you breathing getting more rapid. You swung your legs over the edge of your bed. You felt wide awake now.

You knew this was it. You couldn’t say you didn’t see this coming. It had been weird between you two lately, you both knew this. A break up was inevitable.

Still, you weren’t ready. Couldn’t you at least try to work it out? You loved Jin. Didn’t he love you, too?

Your mind was already going a mile a minute.

“O-okay.” You squeaked out.

Jin sighed.

“This is hard. Us being apart.”

Tears started to prick the corner of yours eyes.

“Mmhmm” was all you could muster out.

Jin went on,

“I’ve been thinking of how to fix it, make it easier on us so there isn’t so much stress from not being in the same place.”

“And?”

“I thought and thought… coming up with no answers.”

You held your breath, hot tears falling down your cheeks now.

He sighed again.

“There seemed to be only one solution.”

You were full on crying now, little sobs escaping your chest.

“Jinnie…” you whimpered, grabbing your pillow and holding it to your chest.

“(Y/n)… I think… you should move here. With me.”

WHAT.

You instantly stopped crying.

“Wait… what?”

“Jagiya, hear me out before you say no! Just imagine, we could come home to each other everyday, I can cook you sooo many dinners, we would see each other all the time… no more trying to figure out times to talk! And I could hold you every single day. And I know you don’t like your job, so this would give you the opportunity to find something else here that you love, or not, I don’t mind supporting you, I just… I need you here.”

You burst into tears again, tiredness mixed with this emotional roller coaster taking over.

“(Y/n)-ah? Are you crying? Wh-why are you crying?”

“Jin!” you exclaimed, throwing your free hand in the air, “I thought you were breaking up with me!”

You couldn’t see him, but you could tell both his eyes and mouth widened in shock.

“What?? Shit, Jagi, no! I’m trying to do the opposite! I want you closer to me! Did you really think that’s why I was calling??”

You nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

“Yes. I was terrified, Jinnie.”

Jin inhaled a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. But why would you think that? Do you-do you want to break up?”

You heard the worry in his tone.

“No! No not at all,” you quickly reassured, “it’s just… our conversations have been so short lately and I feel like I annoy you sometimes and-and you didn’t… say I love you after our call earlier today…”you mumbled the last part, slightly ashamed you knew now it was probably just something you were overthinking.

“Aiishh, no, I didn’t say it because Hoba was in the room. You know I’m weird about that stuff. I’m… bad at being cheesy and I get embarrassed easily.”

Relief washed over you.

“And you don’t annoy me. I think our lack of being able to talk a lot has been annoying me. I miss you, (y/n).”

You sniffled.

“I miss you, too Seokjinnie.”

“Which is why I asked you to move here!” He suddenly exclaimed, “So we can be with each other all the time! I know, you have your job and your family and everything, and I know I’m asking a lot I just thought-“

“Jinnie,” you interrupted him, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to. I want to move to Korea. To be with you.”

“Ohwaaa, really?”

You stood up from your bed out of excitement.

“Yes! I’m tired of this, too. No more scheduling calls or short conversations. I miss you, I want to be with you together, in the same place. And I am miserable at my job, you’re right. It’s not worth it anymore. Being with you will be worth it. And I can start a new career there. I’ll figure it out.” you took in a deep breath, “is this… for real, Jinnie?”

You could hear his smile as he spoke.

“It’s real, jagi. Yah I’m so happy. I love you.”

Your face hurt from smiling.

“And I love you, Jin.”

Then you paused and looked around your room.

“Sooo is it too early to start packing?”

[intoduskoutofdawn]

Jessy needs a favor (part 1)

Jessy, Phil x MC piece

| So this is(not the first I have written) but the first one, that was ready enough. ;) English is not my first language, so there might be mistakes. This could have one or two other parts, I am just not sure yet. Thank you Everbyte for the Inspiration!|

Warnings: swearing, smoking, a hardly tracable naughtiness (?)

________

„Arrgh!“ you growl angry at the mirror, as your hair just keeps refusing your will. You sigh and just stuff it into a bun. Doesn't matter now anyway since you are already late for your first course. You run into the kitchen to get your sweater and knock over your coffee cup as you reach over the table. Great job, MC! Cursing yourself, you hurry to wipe up the mess. As you put your sweater half way on your phone starts buzzing, you run to get the call as you see Jessys name on the display.

“Hey Jess...Ouch!”

“Good morning, MC. Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just stumbled over my shoes. I'm having a hell of a morning here...So what's up?”

“Sorry to hear about your morning. Are you on your way out?”

“Yeah, college...” Jessy paused and you already suspect, that she needed to ask you a favor and you instantly have to smile as she starts -

“MC, I have to ask you something. I think I did something...stupid”

“What is it, Jess?”

“Well I promised my brother that I would help him at the bar tonight, since it's gonna be busy there. But now I realized, that we get a delivery at the garage early in the morning and I can't leave Richy hanging.” She paused again. Too bad, but you also know her well enough to know that there is more to that.

“As I told Phil that I couldn't help him out, I felt so bad and I kinda told him that I am gonna ask you to take the shift at the Aurora...” It takes you a moment to follow her but as soon as you understand you sigh...

“Oh Jessy, I don't know...”

“Please MC, you see I didn't want Phil to get upset with me again and when I told him, I would ask you, he was suddenly on board right away.” She kept talking fast, as she always did when she was trying to convince you. “And why not actually? Maybe a shift at the bar would be some welcome distraction for you? You are way too busy all the time, MC!... And you would really help me out here.” You take a deep, helpless breath of defeat. It's just not possible to say no to Jessy. “Alright, I will do it. Maybe you're right and it will be good for me.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the best, MC”

“You know it!” You say ironically and say your goodbyes. Geez, now I'm really late. You just grab your things in a haste and rush out of the door.

A few hours later you walk down the road back from the college, you are making some notes on a paper you carry with you, not paying attention to your surroundings as a car slows down next to you. “Well well, if you speak of the devil...if that isn't our Miss MC.” Miss MC, there is only one person in Duskwood who calls you that. Phil looked smiling out of the car window, an unlit cigarette in his mouth looking at you over his sunglasses. Apparently he was talking on the phone. You stick your pen in your hair bun and walk over to the car, you can hear Phil saying into his phone: “Yeah, well she is here now... cya, Sis!” He looks at you with a wide smile. “So I hear you will work for me tonight?” You bend down a little to meet his eyes and say with a smirk “Well as I see it, I am saving your ass tonight, Hawkins” He laughs and shakes his head, with a gesture he offers you to get in the car, throwing his jacket on the back seat. “Wait a sec, I give you a ride home.”

For a brief moment you hesitate, as you look down on your sleeve where you had ink stains from the pen, you brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. I'm a real mess today! You frown a bit helpless as you walk around the car, stuff the paper in your bag and finally let yourself fall on the passenger seat. Phil gives you an enquiring look, his eyes rest on your face for a while.

“You look exhausted, MC. You sure you're up for work today?” he asks with honest concern. You shrug and look out of the side window. “Just a weird day, but I guess it can only get better...And I couldn't say no to your sister anyway. She has her ways, you know.” Phil lights his cigarette and drives off. “Well obviously we don't have that in common, since you said no to me several times already. “ He smiles and winks at you. With a grin you realize that he actually does have the same smile as Jessy with that charming little dimple in the right corner of the mouth. You always found Phil attractive...somehow, you just never put a lot of thought to it. His movements and his posture always had elegance and a calm confidence - which was in this moment infuriating for you, since it made you feel so insecure about yourself. Usually you are not like that at all but the man next to you, looking so effortlessly good, makes you think about your messy hair and you hide your ink stained sleeve in your lab. You let your gaze wander over to his hand on the wheel holding the cigarette - he had beautiful hands with those long slender fingers, to be touched by those hands must be really... “What are you thinking over there?” his question tears you violently out of your thoughts and you feel yourself blushing, quickly turning your face away. “Um...I...was looking at the cigarette, I just quit smoking, you know.” Saved it!

“Sorry, I didn't mean to tempt you, Miss MC.” he says, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray. The irony of that sentence makes you blush even more, letting slip a giggle about your silly self. You just shake your head as he gives you a questioning look. “So Phil..." You start a conversation to stop your thoughts from wandering in that direction again. "...you never told me how it is to own a bar.” He gives you a quick look just to assure himself that you are asking seriously. “Well, it sure is a lot of work but it feels really good to have your own business, standing on your own feet.” He pauses and seems to be thinking further about it. “You know, I had a crappy relationship with my stepfather, he always tried to control me, holding me back or even down somehow and after my mother just dumped us all here in Duskwood, I had to deal with a lot of anger inside of me. I couldn't wait to finally make my own decisions and start something all by and for myself. Insofar the Aurora meant new found freedom for me.” You nod slowly - understanding and impressed by the serious honesty of his answer. You can't even remember having a conversation like that with Phil ever before. Usually he was just flirting with you or making small talk and because of his reputation with women you took it as casual without any deeper meaning, always assuming that is all there is to know about Phil Hawkins. Well, I was wrong about that. It felt like you got to know him a lot better during the last minutes. You tell him a bit about your family and though your experiences were different from his, you feel like you understand each other when it comes to family affairs and how they affect your own life.

Phil pulls over in front of your house and you rummage around in your bag for your keys. “Thank you for the ride, Phil. It was nice talking to you.” You add that with an open and honest smile. Phil lets his eyes rest on your face again with an expression on his own face that you couldn't quite figure out. “It really was...” he answers with a trace of surprise in his voice before his usual charming smile returned and his eyes shot you a cheeky look as he reaches over and pulls the pen out of your hair. “Okay, Miss MC, I see you behind the counter later and don't be late – your boss is waiting for you and he can't handle rejection very well.” You grab the pen out of his hand and push the door open laughing. After you got out of the car you turn around and look at him through the window. “Don't you forget, Hawkins, I'm just saving your ass as a favor.” He winks and counters: ”Well, I'm sure you looked at my ass often enough to know that it's worth being saved.” As the car drives off you stand there watching it moving away for a while - deep in thoughts. Finally you pull yourself around and walk up to the door. You have to get all the ink stains off before your bar shift.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Señorita

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: S.M.U.T., language.

Synopsis: You finally get out of the city to spend a week in a beachside paradise - you’re entitled to a little getaway, you think, with your birthday coming up. When a handsome stranger hits on you at the bar, along with your birthday, some other things might come as well.   A/N: This was random? Came out of nowhere. Enjoy & let me know what you think x

Gif not mine

Timid waves crushed softly against the shoreline, white sand turning concrete gray at their touch. The warm breeze carried around a song you thought you recognised, but couldn’t remember from where. The beach-side bar basked in a gentle blush glow, so typical for the evenings here at Mallorca… You’d only arrived a couple of days ago, but already you couldn’t picture yourself anywhere else - just sitting here, at the bar by the turquoise sea, sipping on your Pina Colada in the shadow of the palm-branched roof. The wind brushed through your salt-stained hair from the entire day spent rolling around on the beach; mindful sun caressing your thighs, peaking from behind the slit in your deep emerald dress.

Tonight was relatively calm, you thought, twirling the straw in your cocktail absentmindedly. Ever since the English rugby team packed up their balls and other attributes and set out to sea, the place became peaceful.

You were glad. The entire point of this trip was to get out of the busy city for a while, enjoy the calm. If you wanted a testosterone-filled party for your birthday, you would have stayed in New York - Karen would throw a rave that would make Coachella look like a kindergarten gathering.

But that is exactly what drove you out of America and into this seaside paradise. If there was one thing you had trouble doing, it was working a crowd of people you barely saw in your everyday life, who only came for booze and dancing. Karen said she understood, and that the party would have been a small yet tasteful affair… you still fled.

Here’s to hoping that Karen wasn’t pissed at you for bailing, you silently prayed, throwing the straw on the bar and taking a gulp directly from the glass. Judging from the text Karen sent you earlier today, saying something about getting together for a celebratory meal when you got back to the city, you figured she wasn’t mad. She did say something about introducing her to a friend of Frank’s again, and having thrown the Karen plan for the party out of the window, you had to budge.

It’d been so long it had become a running joke between you two - Karen wanting to introduce you to that “handsome hunk”, with whom Frank had served. She was especially lyrical about his manners, his big heart and his beautiful smile.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Karen was head over heels for the guy.

Every time Karen made plans for a Sunday brunch or Saturday night drinks at Castle’s place with the sole purpose of introducing you to the Hunk, you always found an excuse to ditch. Sometimes it was an urgency at work, sometimes it was about something funny you ate the night before… You must have been dodging these “introductory date” attempts for at least five months now - and it all looked like after this get-away vacation, you’d have to face the music.

Well, it was worth it. A week of doing nothing, reading sappy novels and drinking high-end cocktails, that was what you craved for, and if you had to pretend to be interested in some nonsense a guy was trying to charm you with for a couple of hours, it was a small price to pay. With that thought, you finished off your Pina Colada and motioned for the sunburnt brown bartender to get you another one.

“Hola señorita.”

The voice was unexpected. Low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of power.

“Disculpe, ¿este asiento está ocupado?”

Slightly frowning, you turned your head to the right.  

Ever since the English rugby team settled in one of the villas, the women in the hotel found themselves outnumbered. It just so happened - what a coincidence - that you turned out to be their neighbour, your villa closest to theirs. Everytime you’d walk out of your temporary home to hit the bar or the beach, you’d spot at least three young men hanging outside of their quarters, their faces illuminating the minute they saw you. You’d give them a cursory smile back - you weren’t that cruel - but everytime one of them tried to approach you, you shot him down - often with a look, rarely with a verbal warning. Ever since they left, you was relishing the feeling of tranquillity - until he decided to burst your happy little bubble.

The first thing you noticed about him is that he wasn’t Spanish, despite the lack of accent. He had beautiful dark, almost black eyes, the colour of a freshly brewed espresso, that myriad of black and chocolate tones swirling in a whirlpool of tender curiosity. They held your depreciating stare well. The sun obviously loved him - those razor-sharp cheekbones glowed bronze as he tilted his head to the side a little bit. The wind caressed his dark hair, playing with the longer strands at the top.

Something about him was so familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on the beach before? You did stay at the same hotel after all…

Not in a slightest bit confused at your lack of answer, the man smiled.

His smile held a sort of a gentle surprise in it, like a summer day in a middle of October.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Je suis désolée,” you finally uttered, forcing your eyes to focus on his eyes again instead of his lips. “Je ne parle pas espagnol”.

His smile grew wider, much to your surprise. Instead of getting red in the face, stammering out some random apology as you expected him to, he nodded and motioned to the chair next to you with one hand, sliding the other one across the surface of the bar.

Despite your better judgement and against your utter dislike of aimless flirting, you found herself shrugging as you accepted her second drink from the bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please.”

Ah-ha. He’s from New York.

You sipped on your cocktail directly from the glass, ignoring the brand-new straw the bartender supplied you with in order to hide your smirk. As the man held two aristocratic, impossibly long fingers in the air, making his order, you took the time to study him.

He was tall, much taller than you. The plain white t-shirt that he wore betrayed the solid stomach muscles hidden under the cotton - the short sleeves strained as he gripped the back of the chair and slowly lowered himself onto it.

“Thank you,” he finally said to the bartender with a nod, gripping his glass with those downright pornographic fingers. Slightly pursuing his lips, the man turned his full attention back to you. When you arched an eyebrow at his antics, he flashed you a mischievous yet understanding look. “Ça tombe bien. Je me sens plus à l’aise en parlant français”.

That cheeky bastard.

Your first reaction was that of a sincere surprise. You were pretty sure that for a second there, your eyebrows almost reached your hairline. Upon catching the satisfied glint in these already all too familiar eyes, you wanted to feel irritated at the nerve of him, at the fact that he just happened to beat you at your own game. But you didn’t.

Biting hard on your bottom lip in order not to laugh, you took your glass and sipped, hard.

“While I’d love to know how many more languages the lady speaks, I would much rather learn her name”, he dropped nonchalantly, whirling his whiskey gently, the ice cubes cluttering against the glass.

The first comeback that crossed your mind was so filthy you couldn’t possibly go with it. The second one, however, was efficient and succinct.

“Diana, here’s a lady’s name.”

With a low chuckle, he let his head drop down for a moment. When he raised his eyes to face you again, your chest felt a little too tight and a little too fragile under his poignant stare - that of amusement, want and a clean cut awe.

His eyes had told you that this was more than a drifting attraction, that he was interested in so much more than your name…

You saw it, and for some nonsensical reason, chose to believe it.

“I don’t care about names,” there was such a determination to your voice that it surprised you. It didn’t startle him, though - he caught your every word as his eyes travelled from your fluttering eyelashes to the soft curve of your lips. “When there are so many more interesting things to talk about. Don’t you agree?”

As you turned away from him and took another sip of your drink, you heard him chuckle yet again, and saw him press a hesitant finger against his lips.

This was obviously new to him. This small treacherous gesture led you to believe that maybe he wasn’t one to pick women at bars, that, just like you, he felt that thrill of surrendering to the strange sort of attraction encircling you both.

“In fact, enough talking. Let’s focus on doing.”

What was it so special about him that made you decide? It’s not like there’s been no men before him, very much willing to break through your iron-clad facade, wanting you to take a leap of faith. Some of them had the potential to make you feel good, you were aware of that. Still, you didn’t want them.

What made him so different? A certain familiarity of his voice, his features, maybe? Or maybe you should just slow down, cut down on the alcohol, drink a glass of water and go back to your villa, alone.

The way his eyes skimmed your naked shoulders, a barely there sigh leaving his half-open lips sealed the deal.

You didn’t want to slow down.

Not with him.

“Here’s to doing then”, his Adam apple bobbed as he gulped down, his eyes darkening. He raised his glass towards you - a figurative shake of hands on the deal they just made.

“Here’s to doing”, you agreed, clinking your glass to his.

His villa was located at the outskirts of the hotel beach, backed by the rocks. It was a ten-minute walk from the bar, feet in the warm sand, the star-sprangled night sky over your heads.

Despite the silence surrounding you, save for the occasional gust of breeze carrying on the sound of music from the bar you just left, you didn’t feel awkward. A soft smile ghosted over your lips as you felt his careful touch at the small of your back - those fingers sliding down to the base of your spine, feather-like. He strode forward, adapting his pace so you could keep up - you weren’t even sure he was aware of that, the change in him so spontaneous, as if it were a force of habit. Like this wasn’t the first time you walked side by side.

You would blame it on the booze, but you drank a total of two cocktails.

He only had one whiskey before they took off.

The villa he chose to stay in was slightly more spacious than yours, and provided a lot more privacy - this told you a lot about the man you were about to sleep with. He was most certainly well off, for starters. He also came here to get his share of peace and quiet, much like yourself.

Guiding you through the doors, he turned the lights on behind you, his other hand never leaving your back.

The best way to describe the interior would be neat or crisp, with a large, perfectly made bed in the center of the space, surrounded by a bar, a hanging chair, a shuttered armoire, and a desk, that could be used both as a kitchen table and a bureau. It smelled faintly of vanilla and musk, with a sea-salt aftertaste.

“Make yourself at home”, he murmured into your ear, still standing behind you, his hand gripping your hip hard for a fleeting second. When the realization of his touch had settled in, and you were finally able to react, he was already at the bar, serving himself a whiskey.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He busied himself with the bottle for a moment; then he produced another glass from behind the bar, waiting on your answer. When you didn’t speak, he turned to face you again.

You did as you were told - kicking off your shoes, you stepped onto the soft wool rug. With your back to him, you slowly made your way to his bed. One you reached it, you couldn’t resist trailing your fingertips along its surface - the sheets were creamy and silk, smooth to the touch.

You stopped short of the head of the bed, throwing a look over your shoulder. He caught your gaze, frozen in place, wetting his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.  

“Why don’t you choose for me?” you offered, slowly lowering yourself on the bed, crossing your legs. “What do you usually serve them?”

The way his eyes narrowed at you ever so slightly almost made you smile. It looked like you’d struck a nerve.

Good.

“I wouldn’t know how to answer that question”, he said, his voice levelled, his stare unblinking. “I’ve never had an urge like that before”.

Well, fuck.

How many more times this man was going to run counter to your expectations?

And on top of everything, damn, he was good. A quick-thinker or a natural good-talker? Would you remain clear-headed for long enough to find out?

“What else would you like to know?” his voice grew huskier as he pushed the glass away from himself. He left it at the bar as he started your way, his pupils blown to hell.

“That all I’ve been thinking about ever since I saw you at the bar is how soft your breasts would feel pressed against my chest? That I’ve been hard ever since you opened that sassy mouth of yours? Or that I would have jerked off to the memory of you for weeks if you hadn’t come here with me?”

God.

The tightness that had long since made home in your chest moved lower, lower, lower, until it sank into the pit of your stomach. At his words, involuntary, your thighs clenched together, restless energy buzzing in between your legs, your toes curling.

“Stand up”.

When your eyes focused back on your surroundings, you saw him standing a couple of steps away, his strong jaw clenching as he gazed at you, his arms folded on his chest. Breath catching in your throat, you pushed off the bed. Feeling dizzy all of the sudden, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, beautiful.”

Again, you did as you were told - you met his gaze head-on, and almost instantly regretted it. He was staring down at you with those black bottomless eyes, raw emotion flowing through him, filling the air around them, charging it to the brim. His hands fell down his sides now - so tense, the veins budged on his forearms.

It’s like he was pacing himself, keeping himself from touching you.

“Take off your dress,” he requested after a moment, watching you like a hawk.

Slowly, squeezing your thighs harder, harder still, you brought your hands to the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, before pushing them off completely.

The dress landed in a heap on the floor, leaving you in nothing but lacy panties - almost utterly naked under his stare.

You heard the softest groan escape his mouth as his hand snaked across his thighs and up to that bulge in his pants. When he squeezed his hand around it, his abdominal muscles flexing as he exhaled, you felt the moisture spread down your inner thighs.

With your heart pounding in your throat, you made a step towards him with your hand stretched out. Almost immediately you heard a low strangled noise, and saw the nah shining bright in his dark eyes.

“Not yet, beautiful,” he growled, taking his t-shirt off in one elegant motion. He then undid the belt on his pants, his eyes savouring every inch of your naked skin. “Play with your tits for me. With both hands.”

Your own touch burned as you carefully squeezed your nipples with your fingers. Throwing your head back, you moaned loud, unwillingly pushing your hips forward.

“That’s it, beautiful, just like that.”

His words seemed to lift some sort of barrier, as you started to tug and pull harder at the nipples, alternating the movements with firm grasps around the swell of your breasts.

You were going to come.

You were going to come and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Now slide one of those hands down those panties. Rub that pretty pussy. Tell me how wet you are”.

You made peace with the fact that he was a talker - but now he had surely sat out to break her. His voice washed all over your body, sending goosebumps down your spine as you slid one of your hands under the underwear.

“I’m so fucking wet”, you gasped, staring at him. “Fucking dripping”.

His moan made your thighs tremble, your fingers slowly circling around your clit. Before you let your eyes roll to the back of your head, you saw him with one of his hands hidden in his pants, slowly jerking himself off, with slow, aborted motions.

“That’s it, caress that pussy for me. But go slow - tease it”.

You nearly growled at that. You knew you were close - there was a bundle of sensation, like a ball of electricity, building inside of you - two quick flicks of your index finger, and you’d be done for.  

“Jesus, please”, you stuttered out before you could realize you were actually begging. “I’m so fucking close, please…”

You rubbed slowly over the nerves, your fingers wet and slippery. Panting, you realized his name would have come in handy just now - if he had some sort of a praise kink, you could maybe easily get the release you yearned for.

“You are so beautiful, fucking yourself like that. Wish those were my hands. Or my mouth”.

Something flared at the very end of your clit, softly spreading all over her pussy. You moaned loud and unapologetic, your fingers moving faster as you tried to chase that sensation. You needed to grasp it, to ride it out, you fucking needed it!…

“Put a finger inside, beautiful”.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Pumping fast and hard, you could feel your knees bending, your flesh begging for release.

“Come for me. Now.”

As if by command, the orgasm finally hit you - everywhere at once. It made your entire body shake as you screamed out, pussy clenching around your fingers. You barely registered you were falling down on your knees, when strong hands caught you at your hipbones, pushing you upright.

He was on you before you could come down from your high. His mouth hot and bruising against yours, you moaned, instinctively jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his feverish body.

His scent assaulted you - a clean, musky scent made your inside muscles clench, so you wiggled against him, wanting more.

He was so painfully hard against your core, you whimpered, pushing your hips against his, needing more friction, like an addict craving for a dose.

Sensing your need, feeling you, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and stepped onto the bed, setting you down on that same wooden headboard of the bed you’d almost stroke with your fingers.

Pushing your legs apart, he settled in between them. Before you knew it, his tongue lapped at your wetness, sliding up the length of your slit. Whimpering and moaning, you arched your back, burying your fingers in his hair, tugging hard. That made him growl, adding a slight vibration as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. He slammed his fingers - those fucking fingers - into you, and it took exactly two pumps for your second orgasm to roll over you. With your eyes squeezed shut, you moaned into the ceiling with everything you had.

Helping you slide down onto the bed with his hands guiding your hips, he gave you a piercing stare. The one that made you whimper, even though your eye-side was still fuzzy at the edges.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before he distanced himself from you - to take off his pants.

“I’m going to fuck you now - I’ll be gentle next time, right now… Right now I just need to bury myself in that pretty pussy of yours”.

“Fuck”, you moaned, propping yourself on the elbows, closing your eyes as you threw your head back. You didn’t know if you could handle more, but Jesus, did you want it. His cock stretching you wide.

You would not have been able to tell where he took a condom from - you didn’t even have time to contemplate on it. All you registered was a slight discomfort in between your legs before his huge cock pushed inside of you, inch by glorious inch. The stretch was almost too much, and you coughed out half a breath, half a moan as you tried to adjust to his size. Whatever sound you were about to let out next, as he slid out of you and pushed back in, to the hilt this time, it got lost in between your lips, as he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss.

Your nails scratched on his ripped back as he fucked into you shallowly, your teeth biting into the skin on his neck. As if not getting enough of you, he grabbed one of your thighs, flexing it, so he could thrust deeper.

The change of the angle had you swearing under your breath, and his mouth was there to silence you again, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

The third orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere - there was no gradual built, no buzzing feeling in your lower stomach - it crashed on you like a bucket full of ice, having you arching your back, clenching around his cock so fiercely, it snatched an orgasm out of him, as well.

“Fuuuuuck”, he breathed out, his hips slamming sloppily into yours. “So fucking good, fucking…”

Before he could continue, you rolled forward and put your mouth on him, swallowing his words. With his palm cupping your cheek, he deepened the kiss as his cock drained itself into the latex.

The kiss grew soft, your noses touching ever so slightly as you both slowed down, a mess of tangled limbs. Smearing his wet mouth against your nipples, he pushed up from you, sliding his cock out.

“I’d take that drink now if you don’t mind”, you told him, a lazy smile illuminating your features.

A low chuckle he let out echoed in your lower stomach.

“Sure, beautiful. How does a whiskey sound?” he offered, standing up in all his naked glory.

You hummed in approval as you leaned higher against the headboard. Biting your lip, you checked out his ass unashamedly, as he made his way to the bar, throwing the used condom into the garbage bin.

“I know there are some things that we’ve agreed on, but I’d much appreciate calling you by your name instead of beautiful when going down on you next time. What do you say?”

You heard whiskey splash against the walls of your soon-to-be glass. Your inner muscles clenched at the sight of him, naked, serving you a drink.

“It’s Y/N”, you said with a small smile.

“Billy”, he responded, making his way to you. As you reached out to take your glass of whiskey from him, he pulled his hands backwards, using your position to land his lips on yours in a stinging kiss instead. You responded hungrily, grabbing his head with both of your hands.

The night was still young, after all.

“Okay, so would you rather spent your life partying with rich assholes you barely know, still seeing your family and friends, or get stuck on a desert island with no opportunity to see anyone at all?”

You turned your head ever so slightly, feeling his muscles clench as Billy huffed out a breath.

You both laid naked on his bed, him propped against the headboard, you - with your head settled comfortably on his stomach. A half empty bottle of whiskey was getting warm against your bare thigh, both of your glasses laying empty next to it.

You had lost count of the times you came with his name a word of ecstasy on your lips. You were surely going to sport some hickeys on your neck tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

You had never felt so at ease with a man before. Granted, no man had ever managed to make you come three times in a row, but that wasn’t the point. Billy made you question your “no dating” rule, and not just because he fucked like his life depended on it. He just got you - whether it was your discomfort in big crowds, fear of subway, weird addiction to macarons or love-hate relationship with Paris. You just clicked - it was hard to believe you met mere hours ago.

Or maybe the fact that you only just met was the reason why you clicked. It certainly wouldn’t be the same in the long run. The rose-goggles period only lasted so long. When routine kicked in, it tended to crash everything in its wake.

“That’s a tough one”, he said, biting on the inside of his cheeks. “If I could invite people on my desert island, I’d definitely go with the second option.”

“Well, you can’t”, you smirked at him, and then stared back into the ceiling. “It’s either being constantly surrounded, or seeing no one at all”.

He hummed, considering the options.

“I can’t imagine being alone 24/7, even though you might have guessed already, I love being alone sometimes”, his fingers slowly caressed the soft skin under your breasts, as he voiced his thoughts out loud. “It’s funny how your mind works though”, you could hear a smile in his tone now. “With you, it’s either all or nothing.”

You thought for a moment, interlacing your fingers with his. Then you shrugged:

“Sometimes, I just want to get away, you know? See no one, speak to no one… I sometimes push people away, thinking it would do me good. But it doesn’t always have that desirable effect.”

When you stole a glance at Billy again, you saw him nod.

“I know what you mean”, he spoke quietly. “And I’m glad you didn’t push me away tonight”.

“Oh, I tried,” you assured him with a smirk. “You’re hard to shake off”, you let go of his fingers and pushed yourself up on your hands, so that your eyes were on the same level.

Billy chuckled, his lips stretching in that warm and wonderful smile.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be hard. Again. Point blank.”

You laughed quietly, dropping your gaze, your eyes traveling down his stomach and to that massive cock between his legs.

He was getting hard again alright.  

“What time is it?” you suddenly remembered, snapping your gaze around, searching for a clock.

“Quarter to four, why would you ask?” he told you, after checking his wristwatch.

You closed her eyes.

“It’s my birthday”, you said before you blinked at him in surprise.

In between all that dirty sex and orgasms, you lost track of time and completely forgot. Were you coming when the clock struck midnight? The thought made you giggle.

“Really?” Billy stared at you in disbelief before his dark cocoa eyes softened, and his voice dropped an octave. “Come here”.

Warmth spread all over your body at his words, your core the center of the growing tingling sensation. Billy used his hot hands to pull you closer, help you settle in his lap, your legs on each side of his hips. With his left hand he reached for the bedside table, pulling out yet another condom out.

“Would you like to put it on?” He whispered against the skin behind your ear, making your pussy tense. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, taking the foil packet from his hand. Tearing it up with your teeth, you slid the latex onto his throbbing cock, pumping him a couple of times for a good mesure. The noises Billy made were downright pornographic. You licked your lips.

With both of your hands on his naked shoulders, you slowly lowered yourself all the way down onto him, the sensation making you both moan this time.

“Just like that, beautiful”, he whispered softly in your ear, thrusting up into you.

You rode him slowly, arching your back, leveraging yourself on his shoulders. The position was so damn intense, and not only because that way Billy could thrust deeper, up to his balls. There was a strange sort of intimacy as he gripped your hips, helping you bounce slowly on his rock-hard cock - his cocoa eyes held a sort of intensity as he fucked into you. It made your heart ache.

“I fucking can’t get enough of you”, he confessed hoarsely. “Of that tight, wet, perfect pussy. Of your beautiful, smart mouth. All of you. Every fucking inch of you.”

His revelation combined with his soft, yet methodic thrusts was what toppled you over the edge. You came hard, your body protesting against all those orgasms Billy’s cock had already wrestled out of it. Speaking of him, he wasn’t too far behind either, gripping your hips and holding you down as he came.

His lips seemed to hold some kind of a promise as he kissed you gently.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful”, he whispered against your lips, his hot and ragged breath fanning over your skin.

You managed a tired smile, surging up to kiss him again, relishing the feeling of him inside of you still….

Surprisingly, New York welcomed you back with cloudless sky. It was still as busy as you remembered it, but something had changed. People seemed friendlier, streets - sunnier, summer - hotter. You caught yourself enjoying the city again now that you had come back well-rested from your week-long vacation.

Well-rested might have been a wrong word for it. More like satisfied. And taken care of.

After that night, you spent the two remaining days of her getaway at Billy’s villa - no strings attached. You two barely left the place. Never had you enjoyed a man’s company this much. You cooked together, swam together, made love together… Until it was over and done, and you had to go back to the real life again, tiptoeing on your way out so he wouldn’t wake up.

You stopped cold for a moment, a plat of appetisers freezing in your hands.

Did you just think made love? Well that was a slip of epic proportions…

“Daydreaming about your boy-toy again?” Karen teased her with a smirk, walking into the kitchen. “He must have been quite something”.

Oh that, he was. You couldn’t help but sigh as you put the plate on the table.

How many people Karen was expecting for the dinner exactly? It looked like Frank and her had cooked enough for the entire goddamn naval infantry.

“It’s been a week,” you said, shaking your head as if trying to make the thoughts about him fall out. “I guess I need some time to turn that page”.

“Who said that page needs turning?” Karen reasoned, putting two bottles of champagne on the table. “Didn’t you say he was from New York? You could keep on seeing each other?”

You didn’t even take a moment to think it over.

“Nah,” you shook your head, tugging at your silk top. “We didn’t talk much about our respective jobs, but he made it obvious he travels a lot, so…”

Catching Karen’s sceptic stare, you threw both of your hands into the air, waving them.

“I’ll see him when I’ll see him, and if I don’t…” you shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be then”.

You turned to face Karen again only to find out that her expression hadn’t changed.

“Uh huh,” the noise she made was her other way of saying bullshit. “Well, you do what you gotta do, but please play nice with Russo. I swear he is a perfect guy for you”.

You let out a chuckle.

“You know, I heard it so many times I’m actually starting to believe it”, you said.

As if on cue, you heard men’s voices in the corridor.

“So how was your getaway, then?” Frank asked casually, stepping first into the kitchen. “Wow, that looks amazing, ladies,” he commented on the table, winking at Karen.

Page blushed in response, making you roll your eyes.

You was about to make a side comment to your best friend, when your mind suddenly went blank upon hearing the stranger’s voice.

“It was great, perfect actually…”

A designer-shoes-clad foot appeared in the room.

“I just feel like I left a part of me there, I’m going to need some time to rea…”

…djust, your mind supplied as you stared at Billy, her Billy, standing across the room from you - fully dressed this time.

“Oh my God,” you barely whispered, your eyes big in your face, your chest feeling like it was going to collapse on itself.

Billy’s lips slowly parted in the widest smile you’d ever seen - he just stood there, like a man on whom the greatest happiness had been bestowed, and it rendered him speechless.

Karen looked at them both in confusion, until…

Until realisation dawned on her, and she chortled, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her mouth.

“What’s… What’s going on?” Frank frowned, looking back and forth between Billy and you. “You guys know each other?”

“Hell yeah,” Billy finally spoke, his eyes never quitting yours as he closed the distance between you in four decisive strides.

Before you could even speak, he gripped your cheeks and dropped his lips on yours, as hot and burning as the sun back in Mallorca.

You moaned like you didn’t have a care in the world, pushing onto your toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you, beautiful”, Billy uttered between the kisses, his forehead pressed to yours. “You ain’t getting away so easily this time”.

You let out a soft laugh, inhaling his scent, and moved to kiss his lips again. 

[sisterofsomeone]

花吐き病 - Part 1 – The Beginnings of Cherry Blossom

- Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader

- Masterlist

- Warnings: Angst, minor character death, swearing,

- Summary: Iwaizumi and Oikawa had been your friends since childhood. Sure you had feelings for Iwa-chan, but they wouldn't be the death of you, right?

———————

I'm not her. I wish I were, maybe then it wouldn't be so painful.

The sky was grey, overcast, and dreary as you stared across the courtyard. You saw some of your friends huddled under the bike shed to avoid the rain, but you were already caught right in the middle of the downpour. It was cold, a chill running through you as you trudged towards the entrance of your school, white shirt almost completely transparent now. This is exactly what you needed on your first day of senior year.

"Oi y/n, you're gonna get sick." He said throwing his jacket over your shaking shoulders and pulling you under his umbrella. "You're an idiot, you know that right?" You nodded silently. Words were always hard when it came to him. You dared to look up at him, his eyes cold and jaw tight. You thought he was mad until a smirk crawled across his face. "Enjoying the view?" You flushed, darting your eyes back to the ground while he chuckled softly above you. His hand guided you forwards as your legs grew still next to him. “Hurry it or I’ll leave you out here in the rain.” He barked out, causing you to rush to be beside him again. He was warm and smelled of cinnamon and birthday cake. All your friends would snicker whenever you said something like that, but it was true to you, the only way to describe Iwaizumi correctly, as abstract as it was. His hair was dark like the bark of an oak tree, hands calloused but firm against your back, pushing you ever forwards. You had kissed him once at a party in middle school. His lips were soft, movements strong at first before the boys started to poke fun at the two of you. He grew hesitant and eventually pulled away, leaving you stunned and flustered. It was a stupid dare he said as he wiped his mouth and smiled at the boys, but to you it meant everything. He tasted of sunlight and summer; a warm, buzzing feeling spreading through your chest, intoxicating you. Now you know, that was when it took root.

Iwaizumi ushered you to the nurse’s office, telling her you had been caught in the dreadful rain and she took you in without hesitation. Iwaizumi left with a silent nod in your direction as the nurse instructed you to undress and swap into some dry clothes, she had some spare and laid them on the bed for you before pulling the curtains shut. You did as you were told, undressing, and handing her your wet clothes. His jacket hung loosely across the back of the chair you had placed it on, but you enjoyed it being there. Iwaizumi always looked after you, and had done so ever since your mother passed three years ago, but he was a good friend to you even before all that. Your father had told you about your mother’s death over dinner, rather callously, saying that she had not been strong enough to survive the operation. You excused yourself from the table and ran all the way to Iwaizumi's house without shedding a single tear. His father opened the door, welcoming you in with a smile and shouting for Iwaizumi to come down and say hello. You silently followed him up the stairs, the news hadn’t reached them yet, so he was absentmindedly mumbling about some new move he learnt at practise that day. He kicked his bedroom door open and motioned for you to sit down. His room was messy, clothes scattered around the floor and dirty plates stacked on his desk. He caught your eyes and pulled you into his chest. “What’s wrong? You’re not okay.” That’s when you broke down, allowing yourself to finally cry for your loss. You felt all that pain, and he was right there with you through it all.

“Hey? You okay darling?” You blinked, not realising you’d been staring at the jacket.

“Y-yeah, just cold.” The nurse nodded and closed the curtain again to give you your privacy back while she went to turn up the radiator. You pulled the scratchy grey jumper over your head and shimmied into the black skirt she’d left on the bed for you before finally putting his jacket back on your shoulders. It was warm, Iwaizumi had brought it when you two went shopping a year ago, saying he looked like a shoujo-romance-manga-guy. You’d scoffed at the time, but you couldn’t help the fluttering of your heart. Your chest was aching as you watched him observe himself in the changing room mirrors, seeing him fix his hair and smile stupidly at his reflection. He was beaming when you shot him a weak smile back, exclaiming that this was the jacket he was gonna buy. You’d tried to remind him that it was more than he had said he’d wanted to spend but he dismissed you by saying that if you liked it, it was worth the extra money.

“Thank you for the spare uniform, I’m gonna head to class now. I’ll be back for my clothes at the end of the day if they’re not dry beforehand.”

“Okay darling, just be careful now, and don’t go back out into the rain without an umbrella!” She was smiling at you, but her tone was laced with worry as you rushed out of the little office.

The class had begun as you pulled back the door.

“Nice to finally see you today.”

“Sorry I’m late-“

“Miss, Iwa-chan did tell you that he took y/n to the nurse’s office.” Oikawa said as he waved at you. You smiled softly at him, and the teacher muttered something about rudeness or tardiness. You took no mind as you rushed to your seat beside the setter.

“So, see-through shirt trick hey?” He nudged you with his elbow and you flicked his forehead.

“More like I didn’t look at the weather forecast and left my umbrella and coat at home today. No trick. I don’t even think there is a trick that would get him to notice me.” You dropped your head onto your desk and heard a sigh leave the boy next to you.

“You never know until you try!” His sing-song lilt always annoyed the hell out of you.

“I can’t even speak to him, let alone pull off flirting with him.” You sneered back as Oikawa chuckled softly beside you.

“Well, you better figure it out fast. I hear she’s gonna confess to him today under the cherry blossom tree in the school garden.” The emphasis was apparent, and the word dripped with disdain as it left his lips. Oikawa hated Aoi almost as much as you did, but the two of you seemed to be the only one’s immune to her charms – sadly, that included Iwaizumi.

“It’s only a rumour, so you may be lucky. But I wouldn’t count on it sadly.” You lifted your head to meet his gaze. He was staring at you so intently, looking for any sign of distress in your face, but he didn’t find any. You were good at hiding your feelings.

“Good for her, I just hope she’s good to him.” You forced a smile, sitting up and finally paying attention to the teacher and the grammar lesson she was attempting to teach.

Oikawa continued to try to get your attention all morning, but you ignored him, opting to throw yourself into boring lesson after boring lesson, pretending to be okay with the idea of Iwaizumi falling for anyone but you. Your chest ached, lungs burnt, but you just pushed all the pain down and faked a smile, answering any questions thrown your way easily. He threw paper at you; pens poked your sides making you yelp and have to fake sneezes to cover the sounds.

“Fucking stop it Toru.”

“Oh, first name? I must be in trouble.” He smirked, throwing more paper your way while the teacher’s back was turned.

“You are. I’m so gonna kill you for this.”

“Then admit you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m not upset. Iwa-chan isn’t mine to be possessive over.” Your chest ached at this admission, your body reacting to the idea of losing something that was never quite yours to begin with. Oikawa raised his eyebrow at you quizzically.

“That’s such a lie.”

“No, it’s not. He is free to date whoever he wants.” Your chest didn’t seem to agree, the tightness growing and your lungs burning. “And so am I.” You beamed at the setter, seemingly unfazed but he didn’t buy it.

“Like you would date anyone else.”

“I could!”

“Could not.”

“Could so!”

“Could-“ There was a loud bang as the board eraser collided with Oikawa’s shoulder, covering you both in a cloud of chalk dust. You recoiled, spluttering, and gasping for air.

“If you two are quite finished arguing in my lesson!” The teacher shouted. Oikawa protested for a moment, before the threat of another eraser being thrown at his head this time shut him up for good. Finally, some peace and quiet before lunch.

Oikawa’s girls had always hated you, but now they were easily planning your death, figuring out how to make it look like an accident. He had followed you at the start of lunch like a lost puppy. You headed to your usual area bento in hand, towards the bench beside the volleyball gym, and when you went to sit down he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap. That’s how you ended up like this, with Iwaizumi looking very uncomfortable sitting next to you two.

“So, this is new.”

“Oh, this? Nah, you just never see this side of y/n.” Oikawa teased, wiggling his eyebrows as he placed his hands on your hips. You yelped and glared at the brunette underneath you.

“O-Oikawa…” You stuttered out, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. You turned to look at him, your face red and body shaking softly.

“Aww y/n! Don’t be like that! You love sitting on my lap, don’t you? You love it when we’re alone at least.” Oikawa purred into your ear, but obviously loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear.

“Okay shitty-kawa, leave the poor girl alone.” He said, wrapping his hand around your arm and pulling you off of the brunette and onto the bench beside him.

“Aw, you’re such a buzz kill.” Oikawa poked his tongue out, pulling his eyelid as well and Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up dipshit.” He said laughing softly. It was a nice noise.

“You would think after ten years of us, she’d get bored you know?”

“Oh yeah, all your other girls ran off within a few months max.” Oikawa threw a bit of his omelette at Iwaizumi, narrowly missing his friend. They shared a laugh across you, the sounds already calming you.

“You’d think you’d stop getting handsy with y/n after she so obviously turned you down last year.” Iwaizumi teased.

“Hey! She didn’t turn me down. We agreed we would be better as friends – mutually!” Oikawa pouted as you stifled a giggle. Iwaizumi glanced down at you, a smile spreading across his face when he saw you fully relaxed again. This was how you loved spending time with the two of them, just joking around and having fun. It wasn’t long before you were all separated again and had to rush off to class for the afternoon. But soon you’d be able to watch them practise after school like always, and that was the highlight of your day.

He was late. Iwaizumi was never late, but here it was 20 minutes into practice, and he wasn’t there. You had checked the changing rooms, running field, even his classrooms, but he wasn’t anywhere. You walked slowly back to the gym through the gardens, thinking about calling him, when you heard it.

“I like you. I like like you, Iwaizumi.” Silence. You hid behind the stone wall in the garden, just out of sight of the pair.

“Aoi I-“

“You don’t need to answer me now, just tell me there’s no one else.”

“Look, I’ve told you I’m single-“

“But you haven’t told me if there’s anyone you like yet, Iwa-chan.” It sounded wrong coming from her, the nickname sickly sweet, almost heavy in your ears.

“Aoi, -“

“Tell me there’s a chance for me Iwa.” You could almost hear the pathetic fluttering of her eyelashes from your hiding place. He would never.

“There’s a chance. But I want to get to know you first, okay?”

That’s when you felt it for the first time. The clawing at the back of your throat. You rushed to the bathroom, gasping, and struggling for air as your chest tightened. Throwing open the bathroom stall you retched into the toilet bowl, eyes watering and body shivering. Then you saw them through the tears streaming down your cheeks. Cherry blossoms were lying in the toilet bowl. You coughed and spluttered, bringing up more of the pale pink petals. They fluttered momentarily, before hitting the water and settling. That’s when you knew you couldn’t ever love anyone else, and you couldn’t survive without Iwaizumi loving you back.

- Tags: @haikyuu-cafe @sassyglassesbunny @cuddlesslut @daphnxy @bakugouswh0r3 @playboygeniusphilanthropist

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 23

Word Count: 4,542

POV: Starts with the Reader then switches to Sid’s

Warngings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Sorry this is so late tonight, but well you know life, but here it is finally. Last when we saw these two, Sid had screwed up when he tried to apologize to (Y/N) and accused (Y/N) of flying back to Pittsburgh and sleeping with another man, his teammate. Now let’s find out what happened. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading! Let me know what you guys think.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

READER'S POV

 "Are you ok?" Matt asked, throwing an arm around you as your head hung low in your hands. You could tell by his soft voice he wasn't sure if you were crying or not. Oh, you could that was for sure, but not from sadness, it was out of anger.

"No," you mumbled, then stood up and started to pace the floor. "I'm pissed off."

 "I can tell," Cully answered as he watched you move around the great room.

 "Who does he think he is?" It was a rhetorical question, so Matt stayed quiet. "I can't believe he has the nerve to think that I would just fly home to Pittsburgh and just jump in bed with someone. And that for him to think that I would sleep with you!" That came out a bit harsher than you intended. "Not that you're not hot or anything, but you're Dad, you know, and then there's Bridget and…"

 "I get it, (Y/N)." Matt chimed in saving you from further embarrassment.

 "He's just so fucking frustrating." You plopped back down on the couch next to Matt. "He never asked me to move in, you know. He just thinks I'm a mind reader or something. I mean sure I would've loved to move in, had he asked, but did he? NO!" You fought the urge to jump off of the sofa and start pacing again. There was so much tension and frustration that was bundled up inside you, that you just needed to get this nervous energy out of your system. Instead, you reached for the carton of sweet and sour chicken you'd order and shoved a piece in your mouth. It tasted like the cardboard it came in, but that had nothing to do with the quality of the food and everything to do with the nasty after-taste your conversation with Sid had left in your mouth. "I don't really think I'm being unreasonable here…do you?"

 By the look on Matt's face, he was still trying to figure out what you'd said as you hadn't even swallowed the chicken before rambling again. He finished chewing his egg roll, like any normal civilized human being would, though at the moment you didn't feel normal or polite before he answered you. "First off, you're right he should've asked you about moving in." Matt could tell you were about to interrupt him, so he quickly continued. "And you're right about him jumping to a big conclusion about you sleeping with someone, though honestly, I'm quite a catch, just ask Bridget I'm sure she'll tell you that."

 "You are," you said giving him a little wink, even though you'd never looked at him that way.

 "Thank you, now as I was saying, and I'm not trying to make excuses for him here…"

 "I feel like there's a big but coming."

 "But," there it was, you saw it coming a mile away. "I've played with Sid for a year, but I've known him longer than that. You're like the first woman he's ever really had a relationship with. I just don't think he knows how to act." That couldn't be right, you thought. "I mean sure he's gone out on dates and taken someone to an event here or there but nothing like what the two of you have."

 You'd known that he'd been hesitant to get involved with you because he thought it would interfere with hockey but you hadn't really given much thought to him not having experience in a relationship, but what Cully was saying made some sense. "I mean think about it, (Y/N). Hockey has been his whole life until you walked in. He went from being this amazingly talented kid to a superstar center and he's had no chance to experience the stuff that went in between with it. And do you know why that is?"

 You shook your head no, wanting to hear what Cully's assessment was. "Because he's been afraid." Your brows knitted together as you tried to take in that concept. Sid wasn't afraid of anything that you knew of. Thankfully, Matt continued to explain this abstract notion to you. "He's afraid that he'll fail at it. With hockey he can control it, he can work at it. He can go out on the ice and shoot five hundred pucks until he gets that shot right. But this," Matt said, waving his hand in the air then back at you. "This thing he has with you. He has no control over it and that scares the hell out of him. There's no manual on how to be the perfect boyfriend or what to do when you have an argument, and he certainly can't go out to a rink and practice how to do it. He's afraid he'll make the wrong move, probably like he just did, and well…you'll be gone."

 Fuck. That was the only word echoing through your brain. You'd never looked at any of this through Sid's eyes, but you knew that Cully was right. You tossed your head back on the sofa cushion, looking up the ceiling for some sort of divine intervention on what you should do next. "He still shouldn't have said I was sleeping with you."

 "No, he shouldn't have." Matt attempted. "I guess the question is what do you want to do? Is what you have with Sid worth working things out? Are you brave enough to navigate the waters so to speak, where no one else has; helping him along?" You closed your eyes already knowing what you were going to do, but still thinking all your options out. "I remember a certain someone," he jabbed his elbow lightly into your ribs. "Being a bit insecure herself about dating a famous athlete not too long ago."

 You looked over at Matt, head still firmly planted into the headrest of the couch, and rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and Sid reassured me about everything." Now it was your turn to reassure him you supposed.

 "It's up to you what you want to do. The ball, or puck in your case, is in your rink so to speak."

 "I'm still mad at him," you told Cully, finally sitting upright on the couch.

 "Rightly so."

 "Which means he can stew a little bit longer."

 "Bridget would agree with you." You had to laugh at that because you had a feeling Matt's wife had left him in the dog house a time or two before he was actually forgiven.

 Blowing out a long breath, you'd come to your decision. "But I will forgive him."

 "That's my girl," Cully said then handed back over your Chinese carton to continue eating. "Now that that's settled. Can we finish eating?"

 It was a couple hours later before Matt left for the evening. "Promise me you won't let him wait forever before talking to him."

 "I won't." Though you did want him to suffer just a bit longer.

 "Good, because I have a feeling he'll be blowing up my phone until you talk to him." You walked Matt to the door.

 "Sorry, you got dragged into this mess."

 Matt leaned in and kissed your head like any dutiful dad would that was helping his daughter. "Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

 "Night, and thanks again."

 SID'S POV

 You turned over for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour and looked at the clock. Which literally read twelve minutes after three. Exactly seven minutes from the last time you'd looked at it. Why hadn't she called already? Was she going to? She probably hated you and she had every right to. You were so fucking stupid accusing her of sleeping with someone when all you wanted to do was apologize for the first fuck up you'd made the night before. Instead, you'd gone and made things a million times worth.

 The tone of her voice said it all. (Y/N) was pissed beyond words at the accusation and you knew that had she been standing in front of you she probably would've smacked you across the face; deservingly so. There was no point in laying in bed and staring at four walls so you got up and went to blow off some steam by working out, though it didn't help.

 You were a walking zombie by the time training practice rolled around though you put every ounce of effort you had into it, at least when you weren't checking your phone to see if (Y/N) had called. She hadn't. Physically, you were exhausted and it was only six o'clock at night. Nate suggested going out for dinner but you couldn't stomach the thought of eating a nice meal knowing that your relationship was barely hanging on by a thread, so you opted out and instead just grabbed some takeout at home.

 You'd spoken to Matt a couple times, though all he would say was to give (Y/N) time. How much time though? That was the real question. Should you be jumping on a plane and flying down to Pittsburgh at this very moment or would that make this worse? You'd really made a mess of things and had no clue how to fix it.

 Sleep evaded you again that night, even though you were both mentally and physically exhausted. You finally fell asleep around four-thirty in the morning only to have the alarm go off at six. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed off to train, hoping that it would take your mind off things.

 "You look like shit, man," Nate told you as soon as you walked into the building. "You sure you want to be here today."

 "What else am I going to do?"

 Nate shrugged not having an answer of his own for you. "Have you at least talked to (Y/N)?"

 "No, I haven't called her. I'm trying to give her time."

 Nate looked you up and down a few times assessing you and weighing his words before he spoke again. "I know you're trying to give her space, but maybe you should go see her. I've never seen you like this man."

 "I want to." All you wanted to do was get on a plane and head straight to her. "I'm just not sure it won't make things worse."

 "I know she wanted you to stay and train, but honestly Sid, neither one of us is going to be pushing hard when you're completely exhausted. I'm not saying to fly back and stay in Pittsburgh. Just go there and work things out with her." Nate clapped you on the back. "For both our sakes."

 Maybe he was right. You could just fly down for the day and come right back. All you needed to do was call and get a plane. "You're right. As soon as we're done today, I'm going to call and get it all set up. I've got to win her back."

 "That's the spirit."

 Training went a little better as you formulated a plan to win back (Y/N). You were even smiling some at the end of the day. "So as soon as we get that Tim Horton's shoot done, I'm flying out. Think we can get it done by four tomorrow afternoon?" You asked Nate as you grabbed your bag and headed out of the facility. "The plane can be ready by five, so that gives me an hour to get to the airport. Think that's enough time?"

 You were looking at your schedule on your phone making sure that you could fit everything in before flying and not paying attention when you heard Nate say, "I don't think you have to worry about making that plane." You looked up at Nate not knowing why he would say such a thing when he was the one that suggested you go to Pittsburgh in the first place. He nodded his head pointing in the direction of your Suburban. There stood (Y/N) leaning up against your car.  

 You blinked once and then repeated the action, not believing that she was really there. It had to be some sort of dream. Were you hallucinating? Lack of sleep could do that to a person. But as you drew near, it became evident that she was standing there in the flesh and blood. She looked stunning, wearing a plain belted t-shirt dress; her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, with little wisps framing her face. God, you'd missed her.

 "Hey (Y/N)." Nate's voice brought you out of your musing and you shook yourself, trying to regain your composure.

 "Hi Nate," she waved back, before pushing off the vehicle.

 "Good luck," Nate told then took off for his own car.

 You were too busy staring at the woman in front of you though to pay any attention to Nate. "Hi," you whispered in a small voice, one that was shaky and unsure of how to proceed.

 "Hi, Sidney." You found yourself frown at her use of your name. It wasn't Sid, or babe, or hun, or any of the other million nicknames she called you. "Can we talk?" You wanted to, that was your whole point of planning to go to Pittsburgh for a whirlwind of twelve to sixteen hours, but now that (Y/N) was standing here, you had no idea what to say.

 "Yeah," was the only word that came out of your mouth and you wanted to kick yourself for not saying anything more.

 "Not here," she said motioning to the parking lot.

 No, this wasn't exactly an ideal place to have an intimate conversation about your relationship. "Did you want to go back to the house?" Oh god, maybe that was a bad suggestion. "Or we could go grab something to eat?" Even though that was the last thing you wanted to do.

 "The house is fine." She opened the passenger door and then crawled inside the car before you could say anything else. It took you a minute to gather yourself and walk around to the driver's side. You'd planned on coming up with a whole speech to say to her while you were on the plane. Now you had exactly nine and half minutes, if there was traffic, to think of how you were going to apologize to the woman you loved.

 The ride was silent except for the radio playing in the background. It was weird to drive like this with her. Normally your hands would be interlaced resting on the console in the middle of the car as you drove with your free hand, but as you glanced over you saw that she was sitting on hers. A clear sign that you were not supposed to touch her. It killed you and so your hands remained at ten and two on the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip as you fought the urge not to reach over and grab her.

 You glanced every so often at her, wondering what was going through her mind. It killed you that she wasn't saying anything. "How was your flight?" you finally blurted out when you were halfway home.

 "It was good. Had a bit of a layover in Philly. So not as good as flying privately with you."

 That flight was one you wouldn't forget. It was the first time you'd been thirty thousand feet in the air and buried deep inside (Y/N). Definitely an experience you'd thought you'd be repeating again. You hadn't expected that you'd be in the car with her now wondering if you still had a relationship.

 By the time you pulled into the driveway, your nerves were shot, wondering if (Y/N) had flown all the way just to break up with you. You tried to think logically and tell yourself that if she wanted to do that, she would've done it on the phone, but knowing (Y/N), she would have to tell you that in person and not take the cowardly way out. She followed you into the house, where you sat your bag down at the door before Sammy came wondering up for her nightly pats. "Hey Sammy, how are you sweet girl?" (Y/N) said bending down to show your dog more affection than she'd shown you.

 You coughed trying to work the lump that was in your throat out. "Can I get you something to drink?"

 "A water would be great." You grabbed two bottles out of the fridge, opening hers like you always did, before handing it over to her, both of you taking a drink.

 "(Y/N), I'm…" you started to say right as (Y/N) said "Sid, I…" The two of you laughed, even though it was hollow, it still broke the tension.

 "Do you mind if I go first?" (Y/N) asked though she didn't really need to as you'd gladly give her anything as long as she didn't say she never wanted to see you again. "I hope you know that I would never, not in a million years, cheat on you. I'm not sure how you jumped to that conclusion but I'm not that kind of person, Sid. If I wanted to be with someone else, I'd be upfront with you and tell you. I wouldn't go running off and sneak behind your back."

 When she took a breath, you jumped in. "I know that (Y/N). I truly do. I don't have an excuse for why I said that other than to say that I was jealous and upset, but I'm truly sorry for saying it. I don't know how I can make it up to you."

 "I just don't understand why you think that. Have I ever given you a reason to believe that I would do something like that?"

 "NO!" You shouted, not really yelling at her but wanting her to know it wasn't her fault. "I'm just stupid. Stupid and crazy in love with you, and sometimes…" you blew out a breath. "I'm just so worried I'm going to lose you or you won't love me anymore. I'm not good at this (Y/N). I've never had a relationship last over a couple weeks. I'm afraid I'll do something wrong and push you away, but that's what I did anyhow."

 "Sid," (Y/N) said taking your hands in hers. You relished even that small contact. "You're not going to lose me or do something wrong." She moved a step closer to you, and you breathed in the intoxicating fragrance that was (Y/N). "I love you silly, and yes I was upset that you didn't see my point about staying here, and we both did stupid things, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you." Her hand came up and cupped your cheek and you found yourself melting into her touch. "We both need to learn to communicate better. No more running away, for either of us." You were surprised she was including herself in this part, but you supposed she considered taking an earlier flight to Pittsburgh running away as well. "Do you think we can do that?"

 "Of course, if you think you can forgive me for being a selfish jerk and wanting you with me all the time."

 She rocked her head from side to side a small little smile playing across her lips. "I think I can do that. Besides, I kind of like that you want me around all the time."

 You pulled her close, so that no distance separated the two of you, as you wrapped your arms around her waist. "You do huh?"

 "MmmHmm." It was then that she leaned up and captured your lips. God, she tasted like heaven. It had been almost four days since you'd kissed her, yet it felt like four million years. You poured all your love into the kiss hoping to show her how much you not only loved her but how sorry you were for everything that you had done.

 When the two of you finally came up for air, you asked her, "So when are you flying back? Tell me that there won't be a car here in fifteen minutes to pick you up."

 "It's actually thirty."

 "That would've been so much more convincing if you weren't smirking the entire time," you told her giving her hips a little squeeze.

 "You're stuck with me until Sunday night. That is if I can stay?"

 "Are you crazy? Of course, you can stay, but where's your stuff?" You distinctly remember seeing her have only her purse with her when she was leaning against the car.

 "Oh, well. I stashed it in the garage before I had the car drop me off at the rink."

 "So, you mean to tell me you planned on forgiving me all along?"

 "I had some very good advice from a mutual friend, that lead me here." She had to be referring to Cully. You definitely owed him when you got back in town.

 "Well, I'll be sure to thank him." You dropped a kiss to her lips again, just needing to touch her in any way possible. "Did you want to go out for dinner? I can change and be ready in ten minutes."

 Her arms tightened around your neck, as your hands moved up and down her sides. "I'd rather just stay in and order if you don't mind."

 "Not at all," you answered with a raise of your eyebrows. "Though there is something I have to ask you." She pulled back slightly and cocked her head to the side in question. "I was stupid before to assume that you'd just move in with me. So now, this is me asking. (Y/N), I know I can be extremely difficult and stupid at times, but there's nothing I want more than to go to sleep every night lying beside you and to have you wake up next to me every morning. Any chance of making this happen?"

 You could see her thinking it over and you weren't sure if she was trying to be cute and make you wait for an answer or if she truly had concerns. "I would love to, on one condition." It was your turn to give her that questioning look. "If it becomes too much, you know being with each other at home and at work; you'll tell me so I can move back to my place."

 "Babe, it's not going to be too much. I don't want you six feet from me now. That's not going to change."

 "I know but if it does…"

 "If it does, we'll talk about it. Like mature adults. I will not storm out of the house and go stay with Geno." She laughed then, the sound music to your ears.

 "Well, then Mr. Crosby it looks like you just got yourself a roommate."

 "And a pretty one at that," you said kissing her soundly on the lips. "Now, what would you like for dinner?"

 "Maybe we should skip that and go straight for dessert?" (Y/N) was peppering you with kisses and making it hard to concentrate. This was your first fight and you weren't sure if you should just give in and go all out for makeup sex or take things slow and continue to talk things over at dinner. The last thing you needed was to make another mistake that's for sure.

 Pulling back ever so slightly from the embrace, you gazed at (Y/N). "Are you sure about skipping dinner?"

 (Y/N)'s hand slid down to your crotch where she cupped your ever-growing erection. "Yes, I missed you." You didn't ask anything more, knowing that you could always order a pizza later. Instead, your lips captured hers, stealing her breath away before you scooped her up in your arms and headed upstairs. One kiss melted into another and then to another until you were laying her down on the bed that you'd shared only days ago. The same one that had felt too big without her lying beside you.

 The two of you were a mess of tangled limbs and you weren't sure who was removing what clothing. All you knew is that neither one of you could be naked fast enough. Your lips traveled down her neck until you sucked on her nipples. Her body arching into your mouth greedily. One hand slid down her stomach, parting her thighs, leaving her open and wanting for you, as your lips started to travel the same path. (Y/N) stopped you though, her hands cradling your cheeks. "I need you inside me." As much as you wanted to feast on her pussy, the pleading tone in her voice had you giving in to not only her wants but yours as well.

 You settled yourself between her legs, grabbing her hips and edging her just that inch or two closer. You could feel the heat radiating off her body even before your cock slid between her folds. She was deliciously wet, and being inside her felt like coming home after a two-week road trip. (Y/N) was everything. She was your shelter from the worst storm. The light when only darkness surrounded you. There was no other woman in the world that was made for you like she was, and with every thrust of your hips and every kiss from your lips, you tried to tell her that. You would articulate it all into words for her later when you were holding her in your arms, but for now, you let your body speak them for you.

 Her legs started to tremble, and you could feel her fluttering around your cock, as she took you in deeper and deeper. You knew she was close and with a few more thrust, you felt her lose control. "I love you," she cried out, right as she hit that peak, and it was those words that sent you spiraling over the edge with her. Your own declaration of love spilling from your lips.

 The two of you laid there for some time. Soft kisses being exchanged here and there as your breathing returned to normal. "I don't ever want to fight with you again," you told her, as your fingers trailed up and down her heated flesh.

 "Me either." She agreed before kissing you soundly. "Though the makeup sex, was kind of fun."

 You shook your head at her, a soft chuckle escaping you. Sex with (Y/N) was always great. "While that was pretty amazing, I'd rather not have you absent from my life and my bed for four days. I was a mess without you." Just then your stomach growled. "I haven't eaten a decent meal since this whole thing went down."

 "Well then, we better feed you before you wither away to nothing." She reached over and grabbed her phone. "I'll cook for you tomorrow. Tonight, you're getting takeout and then after that, I plan on making up for lost time."

 "Sounds good, but I also plan on stocking up for our days apart." You wrapped your arms around her tightly, hating the thought that she'd be leaving in just a few short days, but you knew that when you finally got back in Pittsburgh, she would be there waiting for you, this time ready to build a home with you.  

[nctsworld]

no filters (just you)

✩ johnny x reader | pining | fluff | photographer au | 1.7k 

→ summary: in which you finally steal a peek at your best friend’s camera gallery and are surprised to find countless photos of you throughout it all.   → warnings: some drinking, few swear words, kissing

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

The bustling of the joyous occasion surrounds you. String lights glow under the summer night sky. They encompass the white linen tables topped with delicate flowers and ornaments, alongside all the dressed up people dancing, sitting, laughing, and overall having a great time. 

You’re one of the people sitting at a table, indulging yourself with a glass of champagne in one hand. However, you aren’t alone. Johnny, your best friend, is the photographer for the wedding and was allowed to bring a guest. Not much persuasion was needed when free food and drinks were involved. 

Taking a sip of your drink, you watch your towering friend finish taking a picture of people on the dance floor before he heads straight towards you. His camera sways lightly with his cool walk and when he finally reaches you, he feigns an exhausted sigh and sinks into the chair next to you.

“Man, photography just takes so much out of me,” he shakes his head while loosening his tie. 

“Does it really, though?” you cock an eyebrow, then flash him your signature smile. He reflects your expression, grabs your glass, and takes a sip. Actually, more than a sip, since he finishes all the bubbly without hesitation.

“I thought you don’t drink on the job.” 

Setting the thin vessel down, he shakes his head defensively, “I never said that. I said I don’t get drunk on the job. There’s a difference.” 

You snatch your empty glass back and begin to refill it as Johnny carefully removes the camera strap from his body prior to gently placing the camera on the table. He leaves a hand on it, giving him a sense of security over his prized possession (and because it’s the reason why he’s getting paid tonight). 

Johnny looks back and forth between the floor and the table when he says, “Sorry I couldn’t really be with you tonight.”

In the midst of a sip, you immediately refute his apology. “No, don’t apologize, Johnny. You’re working, and you know I can’t complain.” You gesture towards all the food and drinks. 

“But...” you play with the stem of the glass. “Can I at least see some of the pictures?” 

“No, you cannot,” he quickly answers, shutting you down like he usually does. You pout. 

“You know I couldn’t give two shits if you take pictures of naked girls in your spare time, right?” Sarcasm oozes from your accusation, but anyone walking by and hearing it wouldn’t know otherwise. 

“Oh, my God,” he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head from your lack of shame. You notice his cheeks start to colour, but you’re unsure if that’s from the drink or embarrassment. 

“Firstly, all the pictures of the naked girls I take are on my other camera,” he begins to count on his fingers, responding against your banter. “And secondly, I’m working on a secret photography project. Once I’m done, then you can see it.” 

“You promise?” you hold your pinky out. 

He chuckles. “I promise.” 

His pinky finger curls around yours, then both of you angle your hand a bit upward to have your thumbs touch. After the promise is sealed, the two of you have some fun on the dance floor until midnight rolls around and guests trickle more and more away. Johnny deals with the last bit of his job before he begins to drive you home. 

You relax into the passenger seat, looking at all the things that pass by in the middle of the night. Johnny’s music softly plays in the background and almost lulls you to sleep until he mentions he has to stop for gas. 

“I’m gonna pick up some snacks. Do you want any?”

A few come to mind, so you list them for him to pick up on your behalf. He smiles, jokingly tells you not to go anywhere, and heads into the gas station’s convenience store as he’s done filling his tank. While you watch him make his way towards the store, a lightbulb goes off in your head. Without thinking, your hand reaches in the back seat of his car and grasps onto his camera; you couldn’t help but jump at the chance to rummage through his camera gallery. 

The camera’s screen glares at you in the darkness of the car. It’s a bit painful, but you persist and smile back at all the people enjoying themselves in the wedding photos. 

Whenever you see Johnny’s shots, they never fail to amaze you. He has the ability to capture a moment in its purest essence. If a picture is worth a thousand words, Johnny’s pictures were worth double.

Suddenly, you notice a photo of yourself sitting at the table, glancing off to one side. You think to yourself that Johnny caught you in such a picture-perfect moment, he probably couldn’t help himself. 

You scroll further through the wedding photos, but realization gradually dawns on you when you notice that there are more photos of you than there should be at an event that wasn’t even your own. 

Hastily, you go to the master gallery page to view several photos at once. The camera almost drops from your hands as your fingers fumble with the back button to view photos that date back from weeks and months ago at mutual friends’ gatherings. 

Earlier in the summer for Taeyong’s birthday, you see glimpses of you in various shots. Laughing, smiling, wincing. You didn’t even know you had such facial expressions. 

There’s shots of your back peering at a sunset, looking off the balcony of Taeil’s new apartment from his housewarming.

Before then, there’s shots of you at a dinner party celebrating Mark’s promotion at work. 

Johnny’s taken so many photos of you without you ever knowing. How did you not realize? 

You hold the camera’s screen close to your body for a second, wondering if you’re simply Johnny’s artistic muse for a mere project or if there is something actually more to all this. 

Did Johnny really see you as more than friends? 

Did he view you the way you silently yearn for him, or did he only like you through a camera lens?

Turning your head, you see Johnny strolling out of the store with snacks in his arms. Faster than the speed of light, you ensure the camera roll is back to the last wedding photo taken and almost throw it against the back seat. You seethe, knowing Johnny would kill you if he knew you did that, but you maintain composure. You pull your phone out, playing cool just in time as he opens the door. 

During the rest of the ride, you try your hardest to pretend nothing’s wrong. Even when silent, Johnny’s known you long enough to know something’s off. He doesn’t say anything until he pulls up in front of your place. When he does, the suited figure turns off the engine, but leaves the music playing still. 

“Hey,” he whispers your name in the night air. It’s tender, but worrisome. Not a common thing you hear from him. “You okay?” 

You lie, barely nodding, and glance down with a slight grip on the snacks he bought you. The crinkle of the bags are a loud intrusion to the background music and silent air. 

“I…” You’re searching for what to say, deciding if you should continue to lie or not. 

“I may have went through your camera.” The truth croaks out of you, and you’re shaking your head because on top of your confusion, you’re feeling waves of guilt from intruding your best friend’s privacy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” 

From your peripheral vision, you catch Johnny’s hand grip a little tighter on the steering wheel, then his grip relaxes and he rubs his thumb delicately against it. 

“Can I just say,” he speaks after a few passing moments that feel like eternity, into the tension still present in the air. “I’m not a stalker or creeper, I swear.” 

A beat passes. 

You cut the thick tension with a small laugh. He follows and begins to laugh along with you.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” you sarcastically add and look over at him. 

“Hey, you know I need to cover my grounds. I don’t need my best friend suing my ass.” 

Hearing the term “best friend” lingers and sits with both of you strangely in the air.

“Do you…” you begin to ask the question that may hurt the most, so you elect to ask a less loaded question. “Are you actually doing a photography project using my pictures?” 

He nods with the dim street light shining on him. He’s tired, you can tell, and you feel more guilt for keeping him up any longer than you should. Despite his wariness, Johnny still looks gorgeous, especially with the perfect lighting. Sometimes, he jokes that life is a runway for him, but in this moment, you begin to understand and agree with him. 

“Yeah, it’s a project on something that I consider beautiful,” Johnny glances over to you as the last word rolls off his tongue, and you’re smiling softly at his compliment. “I’m supposed to present it later this week. I was going to figure out a way to break it to you afterwards.” 

Hearing Johnny call you beautiful has your heart fluttering. You just want to jump out of the car, squeal so much that the neighbours would wake up, then you would run into your home and call it a night.

Instead, your body takes control and courage courses through your veins when you reach for the end of his tie. You daintily roll the tip of it between your fingers and let the haunting question free, ready for whatever follows.   

“Do you like me? As more than a friend?” 

You’re suddenly conscious of how hard you’re breathing and your heart flutters become hard knocks against your chest. Johnny’s face is now a few inches away from yours. At this point, you’re unsure if you’re playing with his tie out of nervousness or desiring for something more, or perhaps both. Your eyes attempt to lock with his and you note how he’s breathing just as hard as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Johnny this nervous before. 

“Yeah,” he exhales with a nod. You smell a small hint of the champagne scent against your face from his breath, along with the scent of his faded cologne. Johnny finally manages to match your gaze. “Do you?” 

Without a word, you answer his question by practically yanking his tie closer to you, meeting his lips with yours. 

The night ends with you two kissing breathlessly in the backseat until hues of orange and yellow begin to stain the horizon. 

[qslovebot]

Doubt, Denial, and Fucking Destiny: Raymond Wadsworth

Summary: After reconnecting with Raymond when he returns to town, he finds it hard to believe that he was your childhood crush due to the many years he spent believing he was unlovable. Your crush on him never left, it was simply buried, so you prove that you did like him and maybe still do?

Pairing: Raymond Wadsworth x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: alcohol presence, mention of past verbal abuse and bullying, mention of weight loss, self-doubt, low self-esteem, kissing.

Raymond Wadsworth never thought himself deserving of any sort of proper love.

He grew up in a home where every day his stuck-up father pointed out his mental and physical flaws, his wrong choices, and his past and present failures with no hesitation or apology. Constantly under scrutiny and judgement at home, school wasn't much better. It may have even been worse.

The kids would poke fun at Raymond for his looks, his weight being the main target of most of the insults and he dug himself deeper by eating his feelings away.

To top it all off, he spent his childhood believing that he could see and communicate with the dead. With ghosts, to be more specific. And his father called him crazy for it all. You heard whispers of it around the school.

Raymond's childhood was hard, you knew that then as you knew it now, watching him prepare to drink himself away as you watched him down chocolate milk after a beating by older kids in the park years earlier. Many... years earlier. Too many- was this even Raymond?

He was taller now, maybe 6'1, nearly 6'2? He was much thinner now, but he looked decently healthy and his hair was still just as unruly as it had been all the way back then. He was, in fact here and he was also very very very attractive. To you, maybe. He'd always been attractive, even before he became who he was before he returned to the town.

Being about four years younger than him, you had admired him endlessly and achingly as a child. To be frank, he never took notice of you that way, only seeing you as the annoying little brat with the pigtails who chased him around the playground back then.

It was stupid that your heart skipped a beat the moment you knew it was truly him. It had been decades since you last saw him and you'd had many unlasting relationships since then. Here was your crush from when you were merely five and your heart fluttered? Stupid. Ahead of yourself.

But you wandered over to him anyway, sitting down next to him on the barstool. "I thought you had a blood pressure issue," you started, smiling as he froze the hand that held the shot he was about to throw back.

"Yeah... how did you know that?" He questioned before actually looking at you. The moment he lifted his head to get a glance at who was speaking to him, it was like all his organs stopped working at once. He choked on pure air at the sight of you. You couldn't help but smile.

He continued coughing and you laughed, "I don't think taking that shot is a good idea anyway... do you need water, Raymond?" You knowing his name set off a new round of coughing and you and the bartender nodded at each other as they placed a cup of water in front of Raymond.

You watched him try to recalibrate his respiratory system and eventually, he regained his breath, looking up at you through curls. "I'm sorry, uh, hot girls- they usually don't just walk up and talk to me."

"Aaand hot men usually don't choke on absolutely nothing when I approach them, so there's a first time for everything." You smiled, folding your hands and resting them under your chin. It seemed like it took him an extra second to process that you had just called him hot. He was just as shy-seeming as he was then. It seemed like he was also trying to place your face. "You don't remember me?"

"I think I do, I just can't place where..."

"I'll jog your memory," you suggested, immediately reaching to pull your hair into ponytails that stayed put with your fists. You lowered yourself a little and nodded, pulling your mouth to one side to mimic the way you looked so long ago and his jaw dropped.

"(Y/N)! No way! Oh my god, you're still 5'2!" He gasped, running a hand through his hair. So he did remember you after all. "-And you have boobs now, that's- that's great." His eyes drifted and you snapped to get his attention back up to your face. "You look- you look great, holy fuck."

"Thak you, so do you," you shook your hair out again and bit your lip. "You look so much happier."

"You can say skinnier," he shrugged.

"I would say skinnier if that's what I meant, Raymond, but I meant happier." He seemed a little bit surprised. "I see that you are but frankly it never mattered to me. I liked you anyway."

His eyebrows narrowed, "Liked me anyway? Weren't you like... five when we met? I was... nine-ish. And you... you would follow me around, was that a crush?"

"It was," you admit, a small smile tugging your lips again, eyes fluttering from his hands back up to Raymond, who looked baffled. It made sense that he thought nobody liked him back then. Your reveal to liking him then seemed to grip him with shock well enough. Wait until he understood just how long. "-And it lasted until I was thirteen and you were... seventeen. I think that's around when you went, wasn't it?"

He nodded, eyes drifting. You snapped again and his mind snapped back to where it should be. "Y-yeah. When did all this... happen, because when I left you were..."

"Conventionally unattractive." You finished. "Well there's one word to sum it up and it's puberty. It hit me, it hit you and now we are right back where we started and you seem just as likeable."

"And you're far less annoying..." he trailed off. "I cannot believe you're still here."

"I can't believe you're back." You grinned. You could see his interest in you as he sat there. Was he wearing pyjamas? It all seemed to add up. You were here, he was back, and your heart kept fluttering oddly. So you spewed it, "I think my crush for you is still here, oddly enough."

It was fun to see him joke on air again. "You still like... me?" He seemed so shocked to hear it. "Woah woah woah, no. You can't have my wallet. Or are you a prostitute now?"

"Not a prostitute, I was trying to hit on you while being sweet at the same time," I sighed, downing the shot Raymond had in front of him. He didn't seem to care much about it. He was swallowing hard now, sharp cheekbones flushed.

"Genuinely trying to hit on me?" He questioned again. He really didn't believe you, huh? But it made sense, what with his upbringing. The overweight kid who saw ghosts- the reputation didn't fare well. So you decided maybe,

"We should get out of here, Raymond. Those bitches over there are still picking on you and you can't really drink without your blood pressure killing you, so I say we just go for a walk." You suggested. His long fingers rested on the edge of the bar and you let your smaller hand close around his. "I've paid for my drinks and I will pay for yours." You slapped money down on the counter for the bartender.

"A walk?" Was all he could really say before you led him out of the bar and into the night. You could only imagine what was going on in his mind. An ugly annoying girl from his childhood was now hot and socially decent and now he finds that girl still likes him and always liked him, even at his worst... Must be exciting.

The breeze was cool outside, but the air around the flow was warm. You finally answered, once a few steps from the bar entrance. "Yes, a walk. Bar settings tense you up, look at how loose you are now. You don't even notice you're still holding my hand." You teased, giving his hand a squeeze before interlocking your fingers with his. He turned pink again and it could be seen even in the flickering lights of the street.

"I suppose I'm confused... You don't think I'm gay?"

You narrowed your eyes, "Are you?"

"NO!" He shouted back. "Why does everyone think that?"

What the fuck? "I never suspected you were but looking at you, maybe it's the ascot."

"The ascot?"

"The ascot." You replied with a small smile. "I don't think you look gay... I don't even think it's possible to look gay. You do look cute though. Maybe those other bitches who called you gay are gay."

He nodded, halfway through untying it. Both of you kept walking down the sidewalk. "Thank you." I could tell he was trying not to say too much now. He was doubting himself.

I sighed, swinging Raymond's arm over my shoulder, fingers never unlocking. I could feel his hand trembling a little. "Raymond, I know this was sprung on you, but I did and do like you. I have yet to properly figure who you are now, but I do." You made sure to look up at him so he knew you were serious.

His mouth was open as if he wanted to speak, but couldn't. Until he did. "Are you sure you're not a prostitute?"

Holy fucking shit. You began to rant, "No, Raymond! I'm just a girl. I'm just a girl and I like you and I want to maybe know you before you head off again. This whole town is a fucking gravity pit, a fucking black hole and I would like for once, for someone to want to talk to me. AND, I would like nothing more than for you to know that people are in fact capable of liking you romantically, despite everything your asshole father may have told you, or the kids at school who couldn't see your worth then or now and I-"

He spun you, fingers still intertwined and suddenly, his lips were on yours, and he wasn't particularly sweet or gentle. In fact, it was ravenous. He pushed you against the wall of the building you were passing. It seemed like the slightest bit of reassurance, the slightest bit of someone showing him how much he was worth, set him off. But you didn't really care.

Raymond's shaking hands slid into the roots of your hair, holding your face as he kissed you with great passion. With muffled 'mmmm's and wandering hands, you gripped him by the ascot, holding him down to your height.

But you couldn't kiss him much longer. "Raymond, I don't want to take advantage of your insecurities," You mumbled against his lips. You had been more confident earlier, but he had you practically unravelling. "I've always liked you, I have, and I'm so glad we just kissed, but-"

"My heart is beating too fast to properly hear, but I know you're sweet as hell and I really just want to pretend we're teenagers and make out for forty minutes nonstop, is that okay?" He interrupted with rambling, and it was more than clear what he wanted.

"How about forty-five, ghost boy?" You yanked him down by the ascot again and his hands went right back to either side of your face while he pulled you into the alleyway. He got his forty-five minutes and it ended sweetly, with him making you promise to come and see him tomorrow. You agreed, watching him go. He walked backward as to say goodbye, but tripped over a garbage can.

He was alright. There would be a conversation piece in the bruise he would probably get tomorrow. Call it fate or call it fucking destiny that he was back and your feelings were still there. All these years and you finally had what you'd wanted so long ago. Plus, it was only the beginning.

[mymedicine]

Alocasia

or, 7.5k words of blushy harry and sassy y/n

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - y/n doesn’t like people, but she likes harry—even though he keeps fucking this up

warnings - language, alcohol, mentions of sex (not explicit), lots of banter, excessive use of parentheses, umm... veganism?

notes - hiii! for once i don’t really have anything to say other than welcome, to a very fluffy and kind of chaotic one shot. hope you give her a chance and a reblog if you enjoy! <3

Upon moving into his charming downtown apartment, Harry was feeling a lot of things.

He was excited at the prospect of living there, of waking up in his cozy new bedroom, of flipping pancakes in the kitchen with a stunning view of the city skyline, and of lounging on his soft gray couch while watching reruns of Criminal Minds. He was also anxious, and a little annoyed. There were groceries to be bought, chores to be done, bills to be paid (Fuckin’ landlord was an ass for refusing to include utilities in the rent). The cabinets in the bathroom were a little creaky (Do I need some WD-40? Can I afford WD-40?!) He even had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to his door, a task which Harry was keen to count as his daily exercise.

Above all, Harry was lonely. Living alone was a blessing and a curse, he reckoned. He could lounge about without any clothes, dance in the kitchen to the sounds of Folklore (a guilty pleasure), and watch creepypasta videos on YouTube until three am (and consequently stay up til dawn, for fear of nightmares) without worrying about anyone but himself.

But after just two days in the new place, he was concerned that the cost of privacy may not be worth it. Loneliness and boredom weighed heavily on his conscience as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Not only did he live alone, but he also didn’t have any friends in the city yet. No one to see, nothing to do. Lost, he decided. No direction, no purpose…Only four walls and a bunch of empty cabinets.

And yet it wasn’t even social interaction he craved necessarily—it was purpose, company, and…perhaps some cuddles. He briefly considered the idea of a pet. Maybe a friendly little French bulldog to chase around and be responsible for? Or a fluffy Maine Coon kitty to scratch behind the ear and snuggle at night?

But the bills…the responsibility…The prudent adult deep within Harry knew he was hardly ready to support himself, let alone a helpless animal. He’d have to feed it and walk it and make sure it didn’t shit all over the floor—not to mention the landlord would raise hell if he found out.

Meanwhile, the soft, gentle, maybe a little naive man who dominated Harry’s conscience was craving a friend. Pets were a no for now, so what’s the next best thing? He grappled with the question…Surely, a person was the obvious answer. He wouldn’t mind a pretty body to warm his heart—or, at least, his bed.

Harry stretched his legs out over the arm of the couch—the only furniture he had at the moment aside from his mattress on the floor of the bedroom—and snuggled into his cozy corduroy blanket, craving warmth in the cold apartment. A rainbow cardigan adorned his chest today, draped over a plain white turtleneck that warmed his neck. He liked to keep it cold so he could be snuggly wrapped in his sweaters without sweating bullets. He dug around in the pocket of his cardigan for his phone, eager to receive affection from something other than his clothes.

In retrospect, Tinder had given Harry far more unfortunate encounters with other people (lots of younger girls just looking for a plug and toxic guys who left him on read) than pleasurable ones. But hindsight was always 20/20 and isolation had already planted the seed in his head.

He quickly examined his own profile. It consisted of two photos of him smirking softly (not too serious, but not too eager either), one with his sister and his mum (to show he’s a family man), and a group one with his mates (because sure, he was lonely, but he didn’t want people to know that). There were also one or two shirtless photos (thirst traps, according to Niall) that he’d sprinkled in between the tame ones even though it made him feel kind of icky. Weighing the odds, he’d decided that desperation for matches outweighed the cringey-ness of it all.

His very last photo was the only one where he felt like himself. He was smiling wide in it, wearing a baby blue sweater with a little chick popping out of its egg on the front that Mitch had teased him for back home. His bio, too, showcased his wholesome values.

Harry’s eyes widened as he observed on the first person he saw upon opening the home page—Y/N. She only had two photos—a shot of her perched on a car hood and smiling wide and one far away one with her figure drowning in a sea of…plants. Fittingly, her bio read: “I love plants and I hate people.”

She was beautiful and every bit as anti-social as himself. It was perfect.

Harry laughed softly to himself and swiped right immediately. He was giddy when the familiar It’s a match! popped up on the screen immediately. His thumbs hovered over the keypad, brow furrowed as he frowned at the screen. Matching was one thing, but actually starting a conversation was another entirely.

Ultimately, he decided honesty was the best policy:

you had me at ‘i hate people’ :D

Now what? Matching was one thing, starting a conversation was another, but having a whole conversation was another thing entirely. He hated the waiting, especially when he had absolutely nothing to busy himself with in the mean time, aside from fiddling with his fingers and doing laps around his living room.

Seven minutes later (not that he’s counting), a ding came through on his phone.

y/n: you had me at ‘treat people with kindness,’ mon petit :)

Harry smiled wide. He was pleased she’d noticed not only his bio, but also the sweater he was wearing in his favorite photo of himself. It was the perfect response from a perfect girl.

harry: so what do you do?

y/n: i work at a plant shop on Main

Figures, he thought. He imagined her carrying a watering pitcher, tending to a plant with gentle fingers. She’d be surrounded by them like she was in the photo on her profile, green on all sides. God, he thought. What a beautiful scene with a beautiful star.

harry: wanna go for drinks tonight and talk about plants?

y/n: sure ;)

Nightfall brought a chill to the air that made Harry desperately want to curl up into his warm bed and snuggle into his pillow. But here he was, shuffling his feet outside the crowded bar and absently wearing another tiny hole in the sleeve of his striped sweater. It was a decent bar in town. They didn’t water down the drinks and they kept the lights dim so she wouldn’t have to see him flushed beet red after one drink. That is, if she would show up at all.

“Hey, you’re Harry?”

He turned quickly toward the sound of the voice, and there she was. And holy shit, he thought. That is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her two profile photos did not even begin to do her justice. The idea of a mere photo on a screen couldn’t even compare to the real thing. He would never be keen to look at a photo again, he reckoned. It wouldn’t make his heart bloom and flutter like the vision of her in front of him did. Was this love at first sight?

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, and not because the chilly night, “Y/N, right?”

Harry didn’t think he really believed in love—certainly not love at first sight, but this girl was throwing him into another world. Before, he couldn’t seem to stand still, but her presence in front him planted his feet firmly on the ground.

“Yep, that’s me!” She smiled wide, speaking cooly and confidently. It was obvious she knew how beautiful she was and, even more evident, how enamored Harry already was with her.

“I—you’re absolutely beautiful,” The words slipped out of his lips before he could catch them—not that he was really making any effort to hide his attraction for her. Still, he enjoyed the way her eyes brightened and teeth gently nibbled at her bottom lip in response to the compliment

And suddenly, the idea of merely kissing her soft flesh, tickling her sweet bud, and ultimately burying himself inside her tonight didn’t seem like enough. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to smell her hair and hear her laugh. He wanted to make her pancakes in the morning and kiss her lips, sweetened lightly with maple syrup. He wanted to love her.

No, he couldn’t possibly ruin his chance with a girl like this by fucking her on the couch in his cold, lonely apartment, never to see or hear from her again.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Of course.”

One hour and four and a half drinks later, (whiskey cokes for Y/N, vodka crans for Harry) the cramped bar was hot and they were floating on air. He’d learned that she worked at Main Street Nursery, usually by herself, sometimes with her cousin who owned the place. She was an avid vegan, but only because she hated meat and dairy made her sick. She’d learned that Harry was new in town and lived only a block away from Main. Also, Y/N managed to learn that Harry had no friends here and was very lonely in his new apartment, but only after his third vodka cran when the already weak filter in his throat began to crumble and embarrassing things spewed out of his lips like a spout.

“Let’s dance, H.” Y/N requested, gently caressing his bicep from where she sat beside him.

Oh god. No amount of alcohol would let him embarrass himself like that. “I don’t really… uh—“

But Y/N was having none of that. She thrust his half empty glass in his face, eyebrows raised in a pointed look. “Come on, baby!”

He hesitated for only a moment. Her fingers were soft and warm and distracting against his arm and it was very dark in the crowded bar, but he could easily see her bright eyes and the mischief dancing around in them. Somehow, she looked just as beautiful after putting away five whiskey cokes. Ah fuck. How could he possibly say no to her?

Harry tipped the glass against his lips, downed the bitter beverage, and finally let her tug him to the middle of the room.

A few people were dancing raunchily to the loud music, and the combination of the alcohol and the darkness and Y/N’s effortless beauty gave Harry the confidence to join them. He placed his hands gingerly around her waist, nearly flinching at the warm feeling of her skin against his. Y/N flashed him a blissful, slightly drunken grin and squeezed his bicep more firmly, relaxing in his hold.

Y/N led them in a giggly dance, letting her hands wander Harry’s body and ultimately settle around his neck. Brain foggy with an alcohol induced haze, she swayed her hips against his.

Minutes turned into an hour or so and Y/N had grown quite comfortable in the circle of Harry’s arms, fronts flushed together impossibly close.

“Wanna get out of here?” Her whisper in the shell of his ear was alluring, seductive, sweet, and almost irresistible. But Harry was on a mission—one that only included seeing her again after tonight and, ultimately, making her his. Five vodka crans weren’t quite enough to outweigh his desire for something more. No, this plan didn’t include fucking her. (At least, not tonight).

“Um, I think we should…er—slow down…”

“You don’t...you don’t wanna hookup?” She looked up at him with something like disappointment (or maybe anxiety? insecurity? He wasn’t sure) in her eyes.

“No, it’s just… I—I wanted to get to know you?”

Y/N subtly stepped away from him, just an inch or so, but more than enough for him to notice and consequently panic. “Oh um, It’s okay...I just thought—well, I didn’t think we’d really be getting to know each other…”

Ouch. She obviously was not on the same page as he was with the whole I WANT TO LOVE YOU thing he had going on at the moment. The alcohol thickened his skin a little, easing the sting of her words.

“But if I’m like...not pretty enough or nice enough I—uh...” she was rambling a little—and oh god, she must be wasted if she’s questioning her beauty. Harry’s heart hurt. How could she not see that she was perfect inside and out?

“No, Y/N! You’re perfect…it’s just—“

“I get it, um...”

“I’m sorry, you don’t understand!

“I understand, Harry…I guess I’ll just—go home now.”

Well, fuck. In an effort to prolong his time with her, he’d managed to cut it short and blow his shot to see her again at all. He kicked himself for hoping. Hope for the best, expect the worst, he reminded himself. He was just fine at the hoping part, but the disappointment in the aftermath bit even deeper than his desperate loneliness.

Back to square one.

I’m going for a plant…if Y/N happens to be there then…Harry thought as he approached Main Street, then Y/N will be there. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He tugged nervously at the sleeves of his sweater—this one white with a “my life is crap” graphic that he found quite funny—wearing another tiny hole in the fabric. He absently regretted not taking a shot or two before impulsively jogging across the block to the plant shop, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. I’m just here to get a plant.

Truthfully, he didn’t know shit about plants, but how hard could it be? Surely, all it took was a little water and a sunny spot. Optimistic, he wandered into the cute little shop. Upon entering, he found it wasn’t really indoors at all—just four walls of greenery with only a few wooden beams as a ceiling, allowing rays of mid-morning sunshine to illuminate the space quite beautifully. Harry couldn’t help but notice how one such ray shone directly on the most beautiful creature in the shop.

The scene was even more delightful than he’d imagined. She looked ethereal doing even the most mundane tasks, he thought. The way her skin glowed in the sunlight in front of a backdrop of lush greenery? Heavenly. He took a few more moments to absently admire her as she lifted a watering can above her head with skilled hands, squinting at the sun while reaching up to water a large, leafy looking plant that hung from one of the beams.

The plant was hanging just low enough to block her view of Harry, so when he gently cleared his throat to call her name, she leaped backward. A loud thud rang out and suddenly, the watering can was no longer grasped between her fingers and her pale pink apron was stained crimson—completely drenched.

“Oh my god!” they both screeched at the same time.

Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he ran over to her. “I’m so sorry angel,” he said, picking up the now leaking can from the floor. “I really didn’t mean to scare you, oh my god, are you okay?!”

She looked a mess, quite honestly. But even covered in water and sprawled out on the concrete floor, she was cute to him, like a little bud sprouting out of the pot. She looked up at him with a contemptuous stare.

“Harry!” She cried from the floor, “What are you doing?”

While he did appreciate how adorable she looked, Harry was horrified. He hadn’t known her long, but he’d never heard her stutter or seen her blush like that. Even in their brief text exchanges and one night together, she’d always seemed so confident, so effortlessly graceful and calm. “I’m so sorry love, I really didn’t mean to—“

“Why are you here?”

“I-I just...I just wanted a plant and—and… I know you love them, and I thought there wouldn’t be anywhere better to go...”

Y/N’s expression softened as he rambled. “Okay, well, feel free to look around,” She stumbled to her feet, murmuring as she went. She wiped her hands on her soaked apron, trying to clean them but actually just spreading the wetness. “And um…Let me know if you need anything.”

She pressed a tight lipped grin on and her voice went a tinge too high pitched. She was clearly putting herself in customer service mode, but Harry caught a playful glint behind her bright eyes.

Harry flushed red and turned away from her, kicking himself for being so clumsy. He craned his head around the shop, feeling hopelessly overwhelmed. He wanted to ask her for help or at least a gentle push in right direction, but he figured he’d already bothered her enough.

Even with his back to her, Y/N’s presence was distracting. He could hear her feet shuffling around softly, the light clang of the metal watering can against the counter, even the pinging sound from her phone as he wandered the store.

Harry made a few aimless circles around before particular plant caught his eye. It was a modest looking plant, no where near as big as some of the hanging vines and rubber trees that littered the store. It had large, dark green leaves with jagged looking edges and sat pretty in a terra cotta pot near the front of the store.

He decided this plant would suit his needs perfectly (what are those needs again? He asked himself, company? responsibility?). He ultimately ignored his thoughts and the fact that he wasn’t even himself clear on what he wanted and picked up the plant in both arms. He shivered upon realizing that Y/N was probably watching him the whole time as he brought the plant to the counter where she was waiting. Watching him struggle and make a fool out of himself, that is.

“Did you find everything okay?” she asked cordially.

Harry nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. “Mmhm.”

“Have you got others?” Y/N continued making conversation while punching some numbers into the cash register, smiling and avoiding his gaze.

Harry looked up at the same time she looked away from the register. He was a little startled by her question, not expecting her to actually speak to him after what he’d done earlier. “Uh, no. I just moved here, remember?”

“Oh, right—well, you know this is an alocasia?” she said it very gently, with a patient smile. He didn’t like that she was avoiding his gaze before, but now that she was staring at him unwaveringly, he felt like he was under a microscope. Heat rose is Harry’s cheeks. Did the name of the plant matter?

“Uh, yeah? I mean, uh—I had a few back in my old place…” Why Harry? Why is your first instinct to lie?

“So you know what to do with this kind of plant?’

“Um…yeah?” He stammered, speech as rushed and clumsy as the beating of his heart. His sweaty palms further confirmed the obvious—Y/N made him nervous. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was perfect. He felt desperately out of place in front of her here. How could he possibly impress her? After he’d already fucked up more than once?

“I, well—nevermind,” Y/N replied finally, shaking her head. She was still smiling, but now he felt like she was giggling to herself because she knew something he didn’t.

“Did you want to add some Miracle Potion to your purchase today?” she asked, back in customer service mode once again.

Harry did not know what the fuck Miracle Potion was, but it sounded like a rehearsed line she was required to say during every transaction. She was looking at him so pointedly though, and the brightness of her eyes was distracting. How could he say no when she was looking at him like that?

“Yeah, why not.”

And seeing her beam at him with that lovely smile was so worth the extra eight dollars.

Harry cradled his new plant—Franklin, he’d decided—in both arms, awkwardly body-slamming his apartment door to get it open without his hands. First order of business after setting Franklin down on the coffee table was to quench his thirst. He still hadn’t gone on a real grocery trip for the new place, so he’s been living off of trail mix and kombucha. Harry craved kombucha like plants craved water.

Which brought him to the second order of business: research. He sat on the couch with his trail mix, kombucha, and laptop, quickly opening up a search for “alocasia plant care”

And suddenly Y/N’s behavior made sense.

Of course, of every plant he could have chosen at random, Harry’d gone for one of the most difficult, demanding, and definitely-not-for-beginners house plants in the shop.

He had a funny feeling it wasn’t the last time his optimism would get him in trouble.

Harry was frustrated.

It’d been less than twenty four hours since he became a father, and his once green-leafed baby was already browning at the edges. He frowned, peering at Franklin’s crisp leaves as he meticulously sprayed the Miracle Potion into the soil. The once dry dirt was starting to look a little better, but—holy shit!

Harry leaped away from the table, dropping the spray and nearly knocking himself onto his ass. His eyes were wide and his heart was pounding. He felt betrayed and horrified. Y/N never mentioned that there’d be bugs crawling in the soil! But Harry could not unsee the tiny worm-ish looking guy slithering up from the depths of the pot and onto the base of Franklin’s stem.

This was a mistake. A huge mistake. Who has he kidding?

He couldn’t help himself. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing the plant shop’s number without a second thought.

“Hello, you’ve reached Main Street Nursery! We’re not available right now, please leave a message and we’ll call back as soon as possible.”

“Y/N! S’Harry and, oh my god there’s a bug in Franklin! I was sprayin’ the potion stuff on the soil like ya said to but then there was a big worm thing and I dunno what to do now? I’m scared Y/N, why didn’t ya tell me there’d be bugs?! Holy shit, Franklin’s gonna die, what the fu—“

A beep interrupted his ramblings, which Harry would later be grateful for. He was always a sort of ramble-y type, but adding a pretty girl and a bug-induced panic was more than enough to make him insufferably talkative.

He begrudgingly opened the Tinder app, his only other means of communicating with her. He typed out a lengthy message with rapid fingers, explaining the bug situation in between a series of colorful emojis.

thought you knew what you were doing? Y/N’s reply came in three and a half minutes later.

harry: I lied :(

(No use in lying now).

y/n: that’s alright bub. just relax, I’ll bring you some bug stickers

Bug stickers? What the fuck? He’d already made a fool of himself, so he might as well ask, he reasoned.

harry: why would I want a bug sticker?!!

y/n: just send me your address

He did as she asked, blushing profusely at the thought of her being in his apartment. Oh shit, he realized. She’s gonna be in my apartment. Realistically, he knew she probably wouldn’t even come past the front door. She’d just give him the damn stickers and then go off to whatever better things she had to do. But if Harry has any dominant personality trait, it’s optimism.

So he quickly started to tidy the living space—careful to avoid the coffee table where Franklin and his new worm-ish adversary sat. The plant aside, it’s a cute little place that screamed an unemployed single man lives here. Once the kombucha bottles and gum wrappers are thrown out, he puts way too much effort into swiping the trail mix crumbs off the couch and carefully arranging a throw blanket across the arm of it—she won’t even be coming near the couch, Harry, chill out.

When would she be coming? She hadn’t given him a time. She’d asked for his address…did that mean she was coming immediately? Maybe she’d asked for it to come by later? Or tomorrow?—

A loud knocking at the door interrupted his thoughts.

He should have expected this. Even after only meeting twice, he should’ve known she’d barge right into his living room, skirting right past him to find Franklin. The first thing he learned about her was that she owed plants and hated people.

“Um, hello love,” he said awkwardly, trailing behind her. “Thanks for coming over.”

Y/N looked up from where she was examining the plant’s leaves as if she’d just noticed him lurking behind her (very on brand for her, Harry noted to himself). He was taken with her sudden eye contact. Her eyes had that same sparkly glow as they did in the shop—they got that way when she talked about her veganism and her cousin and her plants.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, mister Harry Styles. You’re a liar.” she said plainly. She was frowning at him (Is that a playful frown? He hoped so) “You’re a liar and it almost cost Franklin’s life.”

Harry was, once again, horrified. If he hadn’t proper fucked it up the first two times they met, he’d surely done it now. Y/N loved plants more than she loved breathing, and he’d almost killed one. And he lied to her! Fuck you’re such an idiot Harry...get it together.

Y/N must’ve seen his turmoil, (how could she not? He always did wear his heart on his sleeve) for she cracked a happy grin and smacked him playfully on the arm. “I’m just kidding Harry, for gods sake!”

“But...but the plant—“

“—will be fine.”

“And the...the bug?”

Y/N turned back to the plant and squinted into the soil. She put her hands on her hips over the fabric of her wide pants (Palazzo? Harry wondered absently. They were like those gypsy looking pants that looked super comfy—like, one step above pajamas...and damn where could I get some of those?)

“Is the bug on my ass, H?”

“W-what?” He replied, snapping out of his reverie with wide eyes. No! He blubbered, tearing his eyes away from the yellow fabric to her face, where her lips were pursed and her eyebrows were raised accusingly. He didn’t even mean to be staring at her ass (though it did look cute and peachy in the palazzo pants, he couldn’t help but notice now), but, feeling caught, he blushed sheepishly anyway.

She dropped the accusatory glare, replacing it with a wide smile. “Only joking,” she interrupted his ramblings. “Still reckon you were lyin’ about the bug jus’ to get me over here, though.”

Harry sighed exasperatedly, heart racing as he meandered around the couch toward the table where she was leaning. She kept him on his toes and it was as exhausting as it was enticing.

He got right up behind her and peered over her shoulder at the soil. “There!” He cried, almost having another heart attack at the sight of the little black bug. In a rushed attempt to show her the worm so she could get rid of it, he’d probably put himself way closer to her than necessary. He could feel the fabric of her long pants brushing his toes and her sharp breath hitch against his chest.

“Oh Harry,” she laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of his apartment like beams of light. Looking away from the danger, he focused his attention on her instead. He couldn’t help but notice how her hair smelled like flowers and freshly mowed grass and ...honey? Something sweet and enticing and natural, like the earth. Like a sprawling meadow or rose garden or—

He’d been effectively distracted by her that he’d almost forgot the reason for his fear, the reason she was even here. That is, until the little bugger was out of the soil and crawling on her finger.

Harry screeched and leaped backward, and this time, he did fall on his ass. Right in front of the couch he’d cleaned for her while she giggled profusely. The gentle melody of her laughter and sweet little coos at the bug softened the sting of embarrassment—a little.

“Aw he’s so cute!” She prodded her other finger at the creature, which really was no bigger than her fingernail, but horrified Harry anyways. “Can’t believe Harry wanted me to come and kill you, sweet little thing.”

He was once again struck by how gentle and nurturing and sickened-sweet she got with plants and animals. Meanwhile she laughed at him and teased him ruthlessly for his dramatics.

“Here,” she said “Hold him.”

She thrust her finger into his hands from where she stood above him. Harry flinched away, but couldn’t move far enough from where he sat with his legs folded and feet planted on the ground. The worm fell into his palm. The tiny impact of it on his skin ignited an explosion of fear through him.

A millisecond passed and it crawled through the hole in the wrist of his sweater, causing his panic to quadruple.

He screamed out loud while Y/N continued laughing at him. “AH!” Harry screamed and flapped his wrists violently, throwing himself against the couch with wide eyes as he felt the horrible tickling of the creature crawling on his skin.

“Stop! Stop Harry, let me!” Y/N stepped closer, ducking between his outstretched legs. She shielded her face with one hand and desperately groped around for Harry’s wrist with the other. Finally, he paused to breathe and Y/N caught his arm in both of hers.

She wrestled his arm to still and calmly plucked the creature from his skin. “Thank God,” she sighed dramatically in relief, holding it on her finger between them. “The little fighter survived your temper tantrum!”

“No!” Harry cried, now shielding his own face from the wrath of the worm.

He watched her get up and drop the bug back into Franklin’s soil, all the while laughing at him.

“You’re such a baby, Harry,” she cooed as she turned back to where he was still sat on the floor, “And no wonder you’re so cold in here. You’ve got holes all in your sweater!”

“I’ve got holes in all my sweaters. My mum used to fix them f’me.” He frowned, missing her and his friends suddenly. Living alone was hard.

“You’re hopeless,” Y/N shook her head as she bent down to sit on the coffee table next to Franklin and sent him endeared smile. “I could fix them for you?”

Harry reeled back and blushed, “You—you could do that for me?”

Yes, living alone was hard and lonely and boring. Harry had been shamefully making excuses to see her for several days now, and yet he was completely oblivious to her doing the exact same thing.

“Sure! Come over tomorrow and bring all your sweaters.”

Harry saw absolutely no reason to object. He could never say no to her, anyways. “Okay, then.”

“In the meantime, take these…” She reached into her pocket and fished out four yellow squares of what looked like...tape?

“These are bug stickers,” she explained. “You tape them around Franklin’s stem and it’ll catch the gnats and aphids and stuff. Won’t kill your new little friend though.”

Despite her teasing tone and his lingering fear, Harry couldn’t help but smile at her while she demonstrated how to tape the bug sticker on. He’d deal with all the goddamn bugs in the world if it meant she’d be pleased with him.

She finished taping it on and turned back to him with an adorable little flourish, as if to say ta-da!

“Can I offer you some kombucha for your trouble?” Harry suddenly blurted.

What the fuck Harry? Who the fuck says ‘can I offer you—‘

“Ew, no!” She interrupted his self-loathing, face twisting in disgust, “Kombucha tastes like dish soap.”

Hurt, Harry reeled back again and a shocked expression graced his face, “You don’t like kombucha?! Don’t vegans like, live for that shit?!”

“This vegan has taste,” she replied with a snarky smirk. “And besides, I’ve got to get back to the shop for work like, now.”

“Oh, okay no problem.” Harry stuttered, “Thanks again.”

“Sure thing!”

And as quickly as she’d busted in, she was gone, leaving the apartment as cold and lonely as ever. Harry frowned, feeling as if he’d blown it once again. No ‘see you tomorrow’ or ‘thanks for having me.’ Chance after chance and still he made a fool out of himself. She hadn’t even told him where she lived! Maybe the offer to come over and get his sweaters fixed had been a pity invite and she actually wanted nothing to do with him ever again. The thought made his stomach churn. Where was his customary optimism when he needed it?

Grumbling, he grabbed a fresh kombucha from the fridge, wishing it was something stronger.

Franklin and his little worm friend’s (Harry didn’t think the bugger deserved a sweet name like the alocasia did—it was still a disgusting creature that made his skin crawl) company did little to satiate the aching loneliness he was feeling throughout the following day.

Finally, a message came through his phone from an unknown number.

unknown: hey harry, it’s y/n! did you still want to come over today?

harry: howd you get my number

Even through a screen, Harry managed to blurt out the first thing that popped into his head. Fuck. Shit. She’s gonna think he’s avoiding the question! He rapidly began composing a second message, but the three little dots appeared and interrupted his flying thumbs.

y/n: your message on the answering machine at work.

by the way, that was hilarious

harry: right, well. sorry for that

and yes, id love to come over.

y/n: no worries, i saved it to listen to when i need a laugh.

haha cool here’s my address

harry: should i bring food or wine or something?

A new wave of anxiety washed over him as he looked at the address she’d sent. Now what? What would they do? Would he just drop off his sweaters and leave? Or would she invite him in? What would he say then?

y/n: just bring yourself and your sweaters, mon petit!

Harry was speechless. Much like the shop she worked at, Y/N’s apartment could rival an actual jungle. Greenery of all different shapes and shades and sizes lined the walls, and while they had the exact same floor plan, it was an entirely different world than the one Harry was living in.

Y/N, meanwhile, effortlessly sauntered deeper into her space. She looked like she belonged there, obviously, but Harry felt like a fish out of water.

“They won’t bite, you know,” Y/N giggled, noticing his apprehension. She was watching him patiently with something like fondness in her eyes. Harry felt her careful gaze on him, but the magnificent green scene around him claimed his attention—but not for long.

Gently, Y/N took his fingers between hers and pulled him deeper into her space. Harry stumbled over his feet, craning his head to look at the plants hanging from the ceiling. How the hell did she even water those?

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. He looked adorable, like a child at Disneyland. She swore his eyes were actually twinkling as the greenery in the room made the color pop against his skin even more than usual.

“This is…incredible,” He said, finally turning back to meet her eyes with his own. “You’re incredible.” He set down his bag of sweaters on the floor by his feet. They could certainly wait.

Something about the praise and the way he was looking at her like she hung the moon was making Y/N absolutely swoon for the man. It was impossible not to notice how much he adored her. He looked at her the same way she looked at Delilah, at all the things she loved. Things. She wasn’t sure she’d ever actually loved a person before. But this man with the holes in his sweaters and the permanent flush in his cheeks was planting himself deep in her heart.

But she’d never let him see that.

“…I make lots of my clothes myself…” She was talking about how she learned to sew from where she was sitting on her couch. Harry noticed that she’d arranged her living room differently than he had. While he had a single gray couch in the middle of the room, her sofa was against the window, inviting the evening sunset to gently warm the pale pink cushions.

“Did ya make those pants you were wearing the other day?” He asked with genuine curiosity, continuing to poke around the plants and knitted blankets and woven fruit baskets that littered the entire space.

Harry turned to face her just in time to catch her flashing a knowing smile. “Yes. Should I make a pair for you as well?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m sure your ass will look great in them, too.”

“Ah—shut up!” Harry laughed, fiddling with the leaves of one of her hanging plants. He recognized this one.

An easy smile still graced his lips as he murmured “It’s a philodendron,” half to her and half to himself. Now that some of the extensive plant research he’d been doing over the past few days had indeed stuck, it was easy for him to identify by its telltale heart shaped leaves.

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, “That’s right,” she said, sounding impressed. “She’s called Delilah.”

Harry hummed, unable to focus on words when she was giving him her full attention like that.

“She’d be cute next to Franklin, don’t ya think?” She continued, tiptoeing closer to him. She stood behind him, peering over his shoulder at the plant much like she’d done to Franklin a few days earlier. The fabric of his brown sweater was soft against her fingers as she wrapped her arms around him. Harry tensed. He had longed to do the same thing to her when their positions had been reversed a few days ago, but chickened out. But as always, Y/N’s actions were confident and smooth. The thought of her face against his knit-clad back and the feeling of her soft hands around his middle made his head spin.

Yes, he thought, she’s cute next to everything. She’s fucking adorable…

And again, Harry was struck with the thought that he should have seen this coming. It was such a Y/N move—the way she confidently pressed on his shoulders to sit him on the couch and proceeded to smoothly kneel over his thighs. His heart raced as she sank to his eye level, straddling his lap.

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” Harry said almost absently, as if lost in them. Y/N looked kind of surprised that the words came out of his mouth. She’s sort of confused by him, by the way he makes her feel. He had this nervous, chaotic energy surrounding him, as if his mind was going a mile a minute at all times. It didn’t make any difference to him though—a racing heart didn’t stop him from enjoying the feeling of the insides of her thighs against his.

Y/N suddenly grabbed one of his flushed cheeks in her palm and turned his face to hers, letting him get a good look at her eyes. “Think so?” She grinned with a hint of her customary cockiness.

Harry nodded in response to the playful question, caught up in her smirk. He reckoned it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Once again, she proved him wrong when she licked her lip. She studied him seductively while his own eyes, of course, flicked down to where her tongue was swiping over her lips. Her tongue was pillowy, gentle, and…distracting…In the next instant, she’d pulled his face to hers and met his lips with her own.

Despite having been mentally begging for her to kiss him since the moment they’d met, he was still a little caught off guard. Quickly, he began to relish in the feeling of her warm hand holding his cheek and soft lips pressing tenderly on his. He kissed her back gently, but with urgency—as if he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He let his hands wander slowly from her knees up her thighs, her hips, settling comfortably on her waist. His heart skipped a beat when she pulled back a millimeter.

“Is this okay?” Harry let out a concerned whisper.

Y/N smiled effortlessly and nodded. Of course it was okay, it was better than okay.

“Thought I’d proper fucked up my chance with you ages ago,” he murmured against her lips. Now that he’d gotten a taste of her sweet lips, he was truly a fucking goner.

“I thought so too, frankly,” she laughed fondly at him, “But you reeled me in with your charm and wit...” She shook her head and furrowed her brows sarcastically, “...Your true gift for horticulture, your brilliant sewing skills, your excellent taste in beverages...” she continued lecturing him in between sweet pecks on the lips.

Harry giggled at her mock-compliments, tugging her impossibly closer by the waist. She relaxed her chest into his and easily wrapped her own arms around his neck.

“You’re an absolute pest you know?” Harry teased her, confidence growing as she caressed his skin, “I oughta get a buncha those damn bug stickers to catch you!”

“You sure about that?” She smiled bigger, eyes wide and innocent as sat back on his legs. She continued to feed him sweet words as she trailed her fingers down his sweater, the mock compliments melting into sincere ones. Harry’s own smile grew as she mumbled how she adored his soft hands and blushy cheeks and gentle disposition…

Her words were innocent, but her fingers began tracking a sinful course downward, and he twitched in his sweatpants as she cheekily palmed him through the fabric. He was putty in her hands, reduced to a pile of mush by her eyes that twinkled with playful innocence and mischief and unmistakeable lust. The soft hands and gentle, innocent praises falling from her lips were making his cock bloat and head spin. Just as he was getting into it—moaning and whimpering for her to please don’t stop…she shoved her arms between his body and the couch cushion and delivered a firm squeeze to his ass.

“That’s for calling me a pest, you pest!”

She roared with laughter and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight to her chest.

Harry’s desperate, high pitched whine quickly melted into joyous laughter. He couldn’t help it—she was so lovely and beautiful and playful and cheeky and of course, he should’ve seen a stunt like this coming. She was a pest indeed, but Harry had already decided to love her. Perhaps decided wasn’t the word—no, his love for her sprouted and grew like a strong and beautiful vine holding them together.

“Now how about I make you come for real and then fix the holes in those sweaters like you fixed the holes in my heart?”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

thank you for reading <3

talk to me about harry and y/n and franklin and delilah!

[etherrealoblivion]

Candy, Canes, and Caffeine

Summary: After Spencer is shot in the leg, Y/N finds it hard to hide her feelings.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Tags: fluff!!! (light smut). Reid-with-a-cane!!! gif by @imagining-in-the-margins​

A/N: fulfulling this request!

Rating: Mature(ish)

Words: 2,540

MASTERLIST

~

You didn’t even realize that it was Spencer on the ground when you arrived at the scene. At the sound of his squeaky voice shouting to help the shot man, your blood ran cold.

Forgetting all your FBI training, or, more accurately, throwing it out the window, you bolted onto the green lawn, collapsing by Spencer’s side and examining the wound just under his knee.

You didn’t even realize that he’d been talking until you felt his strangely cold hand on your cheek, lifting your gaze to him.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he assured you, looking far too calm for a man with a bullet in his leg. But, that was Spencer, always doing the opposite of what you expected.

Before you knew it they were wheeling him away to the hospital and you were left wondering why the hell your heart was beating so fast.

It didn’t take you long to figure out. In fact, precisely four days after Spencer’s return. It started rather simply: the team was out of town on a case and Spencer stayed behind to assist Garcia due to his injury. Which would have been fine! If not for the fact that they needed you to stay behind as well to assist the two of them.

In your opinion, it didn’t make any sense. They could have easily had someone else stay behind, but for some reason, Hotch had impressed upon you the necessity of having you there with Reid.

And Garcia! Of course.

It wasn’t like you were just there to babysit Reid. An idea that became more and more enticing as time passed.

“Hey, I’m gonna get coffee, do you want anything?”

Spencer glanced up at you from where he’d been rereading the case file, rubbing his eyes drearily. It was nearly nine p.m. and the two of you were the only ones still in the office.

“Oh, you don’t have to…. Here, I’ll come with,” he muttered, standing up and leaning on his cane to come with you.

“Spencer! You should be resting!”

“Actually, some studies have actually found that it’s better to use an injured muscle rather than slack off. For example—”

“Okay!” you laughed, hooking your arm around his as you walked to the kitchen. “Okay, I believe you. But at least let me make your cup for you?”

With a soft smile, he sat down at the little table, wincing as his weight left his leg.

“Does it hurt?” you cringed at the question. Of course, it hurt! A goddamn bullet went through it.

“Only when I stand on it. Or move it too much. Or too little.”

When you looked back to see if he was joking, you were pleased to find him smiling widely, scrunching his nose at you and tucking his hair behind his ears. God, his hair had gotten long.

Sticking out your tongue at him, you set the timer on the coffee maker and picked out a couple of mugs from the cabinet.

“Hey, are there any more of those little chocolates left? They go so well with coffee.”

You looked in the little tin Emily had brought in that used to contain an assortment of little dark chocolates. Sadly, it was empty.

“No luck. Although….” you reached up to the cupboard above the microwave, cheering when you saw an identical tin. “I knew she had an extra one!”

But, even standing on your tippy-toes, the shelf was too tall for you to reach on your own.

“Ugh, dammit!”

A soft hand snaked around your shoulders, softly pulling you toward the ground and you spun around, face to face with Spencer. You gasped softly at his proximity. He was so close, you could smell his shampoo. He smelled like green tea and autumn.

One hand on his cane, holding him upright carefully, the other hand reached up and fetched the tin effortlessly. You’d forgotten how tall he really was in the past week due to his frequent inclination to sitting.

“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly painfully aware of how close your lips were, or, more accurately, how far apart they were.

“Sure,” he whispered back.

It was dark in the kitchen. After seven o’clock, the lights get turned off so the only luminance you got was from the wide-awake city just outside the huge glass windows.

Spencer’s eyes were half-lidded, watching you very carefully, neither of you daring to move.

For a split second, it looked as though he was leaning in, but, oh so cruelly, the coffee timer went off and you flinched away, turning toward the machine. When you looked back, Spencer had sat down.

Oh well. It was probably wishful thinking, anyhow.

“Three sugars?” you teased as he proudly poured several packets into his mug. “How are you alive?”

“You know, I ask myself that more often than you might think,” he laughed, glancing down at his leg.

Unintentionally, he’d shifted the mood of the conversation and the questions you’d been holding back were daring to break free.

“Spencer, do you ever….”

“Do I ever what?” he prompted after you trailed off.

“I don’t know…. Do you ever feel like sometimes, it isn’t worth it?”

“No.”

He answered quicker than you’d expected and with a sureness you didn’t associate with him. At your shocked expression, he clarified.

“I mean, there are times when it doesn’t all work out, sure. But… every life we save… that makes it worth it.”

“Yeah,” you leaned back, taking a long sip of your coffee. “I guess I’m just worried about the lives we don’t save.”

He shrugged.

“Sadly, in our line of work, you have to separate yourself from the case. Don’t get attached.”

“What if it’s too late? What if you’re already attached and the person whose life doesn’t get saved is someone you lo—”

Stopping abruptly, you took a deep breath, glancing down at where your hand was tightly clutching your cup, letting the tension melt away. When did that happen?

“It’s very rare that an unsub comes after our loves ones,” it sounded like he was trying to sound calm about it but you felt the weight of his eyes boring into you.

“What if the person who gets hurt isn’t…. What if it’s someone who doesn’t know they’re loved?”

Spencer was looking at you but you didn’t dare to meet his gaze. If you did, you knew he would instantly understand what you were saying.

And yet, the pull of his eyes was too strong for you to not look. As expected, when you made eye-contact, his expression shifted to one of understanding. He was the first to look away.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you stood, clearing your throat and placing your cup in the sink.

When you turned back around, Spencer was there.

“Why would someone you love not know that they’re loved?”

He was closer than he’d been before, the air between you charged with the many outcomes the next few minutes held for you. When you spoke, it was barely audible but you knew he heard you.

“Because I haven’t told him.”

His hand moved to your cheek so, so slowly it felt like an hour passed. Once his skin met yours, you couldn’t help but lean into the feeling, eyes fluttering shut and pushing your face against his calloused palm.

Two little words was all it took to make you lose all sense of resolve. Two words that shattered the glass barrier between you that you hadn’t even known was there.

“He knows.”

Letting out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, you slid your hands slowly up the front of his suit jacket, resting on his shoulders. He was so tall.

“How do you know?”

He hesitated for a split second, glancing down at your lips and then back up at your eyes. But suddenly, he pulled back, a wince ghosting over his face and shifting on his feet.

“Sorry,” he muttered, glancing down at his cane reluctantly.

Your finger moved to his lips, silently telling him to be quiet as you walked forward, slowly backing him up until his legs hit the seat of his chair and he sat down in it, staring up at you. Now that he was sitting, you moved to stand between his legs, holding the eye-contact with every ounce of energy you could spare.

“Does it hurt?” you repeated, fingers danced lightly over his left knee, touching just softly enough to tickle but not nearly hard enough to hurt. He kept watching you the whole time.

“No.”

“Can I see?”

He clearly had not been expecting that. It took a bit of stuttering before he was able to form a coherent sentence.

“How-how would you…? I’m-I can’t-I’m not supposed to roll up my pant legs.”

His eyes followed your hands as they slowly made their way up his leg to his belt, hooking underneath it.

“Like this?” it was more a question than an answer. He looked at you like he couldn’t quite figure out what you were planning. There was a wariness he was trying to cover up. As if you’d pull down his pants and start laughing at him. Then, he seemed to realize your intentions were— for the most part— pure.

He nodded curtly and you got to work unbuckling his belt, slowly popping open the button and sliding his zipper down. He lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down his legs.

You had to stop yourself from gasping at the sight of his thick thighs. He was much more muscular than you’d been expecting. Normally, he looked so skinny under his tight work shirts, you’d thought there wouldn’t be a trace of muscle beneath.

Pulling the fabric down, you let it fall to the floor, exposing his bandaged knee. Your hand was drawn to the wrap like a magnet, hesitating before making any contact, eyeing him questioningly.

He nodded again, watching you intently the whole time.

Gently, oh, so gently, you stroked the soft skin of his knee, running your fingers everywhere but where you knew the bullet had gone.

The tension in the room had risen considerably and you felt the urge to break it.

“Must be a hassle, huh?” you laughed softly, resting your hand just above his knee at the end of his thigh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled back, “makes it really hard to do lots of stuff.”

You crooked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh? Like what?”

He seemed shocked by the question like he hadn’t actually thought about it.

“Just simple stuff. Mostly standing. Actually, it’s made it harder to use my right arm as well. Since I use it to hold my cane all day, it gets really tiring.”

“So you can’t really use your right arm? Aren’t you right-handed?”

He smiled sadly.

“I said it makes things harder.”

“Harder to brush your teeth and stuff?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking away and muttering, “and stuff, for sure.”

“What?”

“I have trouble…. Nothing, nevermind.” He shifted in his chair but his leg stayed still like he didn’t want to disturb your hand.

“Spencer, you can tell me! What, you can’t masturbate?” you joked, punching him playfully in the arm.

But his face went blank and his gaze snapped away from yours, cheeks turning a soft pink in the darkness.

Oh?

Ohhhhh.

You were suddenly painfully aware of how close your hand was to his….

Hmm.

Maybe?

No.

Well, it’s worth a shot.

“Spencer?” he reluctantly looked at you again, an embarrassed expression on his face. It didn’t stay that way for long, though, as your hand slowly inched its way further up his thigh and his eyes went wide, snapping to where your hand was.

“Do you want some help?”

He looked at you again, eyes slightly glazed over and you swore you could feel him shiver where your hand was placed on his inner thigh, inches from his underwear. When he realized what you meant, he softly gasped, looking around the room quickly.

“W-what did you say?”

Your fingers danced across the bottom hem of his boxers, coaxing a gasp from him as you trailed up to the waistband, hooking your fingers underneath and gently tugging. 

“Do you. Want. Some help?” with each word you slid your fingers deeper in his boxers. You weren’t going to touch him, though. Not yet. You needed permission.

“Spencer?”

All too quickly, his hand wove through your hair and yanked your face up to meet his lips, crashing together in a mix of teeth and tongues. He tasted like bitter chocolate and sugary coffee. It took you a moment to comprehend that this was even happening. Your hand was still halfway inside of his underwear, so close to touching his….

He pulled back and instantly began to apologize and backtrack but you weren’t having that.

“Shut up,” and you climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs, making sure to avoid his injury, dedication all of your energy towards pulling his long locks and placing his arms on your hips, gently urging him to move you. His boxers were so thin and your skirt had ridden up so your panties were pressed firmly against something hard. You didn’t think too much about that, more focused on deepening the tender kiss into something more.

But you had to pull back to look at him, lips plump, red, and thoroughly kissed, a glaze over his eyes and a dopey smile on his face.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Spencer,” you admitted, breath ghosting over his neck, a spattering of goosebumps appearing in the wake.

“Me too,” he mumbled against your lips, hands carefully roaming up and down your back as you arched into him. The movement jostled his leg and he sucked in air through his teeth.

You froze atop him, pulling back to ask, “Are you okay?”

He nodded tightly, eyes clenched shut and you smiled softly at him.

“I hate that it took you getting shot for this to happen,” you joked, sliding your hands across his stomach under his shirt, reveling in the way he shuddered.

“I don’t mind,” he chirped happily, clasping his hands behind your back and giving you a dazzling smile. 

“Listen, I know it’s late but… Do you maybe want to get a coffee? A proper one,” you added, nodding towards his discarded cup.

Clearly excited at the idea, he perked up a bit in his seat, wincing at the way your butt bumped his knee.

“I’d like that. One condition?”

You nodded.

“Help me up?”

Smiling, you stood up, pulled up his pants, slowly redid his belt, and held out a hand to help him stand. He picked up his cane from where it rested against the table.

“So long as you’re buying.”

He laughed, leaning on his cane and taking your hand in his, gently limping toward the elevator, you at his side.

“When don’t I?”

“Come on, moneybags,” you gently moved his arm so it was around your shoulders so that he could lean more of his weight onto you rather than the cane. “I think we’re gonna need lots of caffeine for the night I’ve got planned.”

“I can’t wait.”

~

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