#and i merely want to let people know of an opportunity to go 'wow nice number' with me

[hello-eeveev]

so i don't stalk my stats on ao3, but they interest me, right? and if i notice one of my fics is getting close to a milestone, i like to be able to catch it. like, all things and otnoa were sitting at 199 and 399 respectively for a hot second recently, so i was on round number watch for them bc that's exciting to me lol. esp bc i love those fics and it makes me happy to see so many people like them (same for all my fics but those two especially bc otnoa is so personal and all things is my series underdog. it didn't get as much attention as some of my other fics but it SLAPS, imo)

all this to say: hi! did you know that How to Rest is at 199 kudos? If any of you are like me and like round numbers and clicking the button to make them appear, and you like the fic, you could be the 200th! obviously please only read it if/when you feel like it, and give kudos if you want to, not because i'm excited about a number. i want the number to be earned; that's 90% of why it's so exciting. but if you were waiting for a reason to read it, maybe now’s the time!

[bitchlessdino]

another request because ofc!!! reader finds out seokmin is a virgin and wants to change that 🤭 bonus points if it starts out of pity because they actually don’t like each other but turns into actual desire 💃🏼 mwah

Pairing: virgin!seokmin x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.6k

tags: mention of alcohol, manhandling, oral (reader giving), pet names for seokmin, dry humping, heavy dirty talk, unprotected sex, swallowing

author note: hi mitchieeee, i hope you enjoy hehe

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha

“Wait, you’re a what?”

“Please don’t make a big deal out of this,” Seokmin whines seeing how hard you try to hold back your laughter.

“I can’t believe you’re a virgin. Wow, at your grown age.” You wipe away your unshed tears before setting a hand on his shoulder in a kinly manner. “Oh baby boy Minnie, you cannot just lay this on me and expect me not to do anything.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t trying to let you know.”

“Well, we’re going out tonight.”

You hadn’t known Seokmin for long, but as far as you can tell, he’s as good as these guys can get. It shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, but it was very hard to believe considering what a good guy he is. He’s such a textbook good guy that you had a hard time believing it. No one was that nice. He had you convinced he was two-faced at one point, but nope. Seokmin is merely just Seokmin. And maybe that was his problem.

“How about her?” you ask subtly nodding at a girl from across the bar.

“Are we really doing this?”

You tsk at the young man before asking sizing the girl up. Acting no better than a man, you pick apart mentally why she’d be a potential candidate. Eventually, you shake your head the moment you see she is being tended to by what looks to be a girlfriend of her own before you move on to the next available person with a heartbeat.

“Oh my god, wait, her! She’s perfect.” You clap to yourself momentarily and push him in her direction, reminding him what you’ve taught him. “Go, go. Compliment her shoes, or ask what she’s drinking!”

A look of discomfort is apparent on his face but he goes off in that direction anyway, stalking the target as you leisurely sipped your cosmo. It seemed to go well for a while–watching a smile on her face as they talk–but that mood takes a turn when she gets up to leave and not alongside Seokmin. When he returns to you, he’s unsure what went wrong but you reassure him the night is still young and there are plenty of opportunities for him to make a connection.

Encounter after encounter, drink after drink, none have stuck around and in the end, he retreats back to you all the same. You expel an exaggerated sigh as you cross your arms seeing him strike out a sixth time in a row. Even after all the rejection, he doesn’t seem too offended by it, leisurely sipping his watered-down cocktail. You narrow your eyes back at him, seeing him blink back like a lost lamb. “You’re not trying, are you?”

“I don’t want to even be here.”

You shake your head, pinching the skin between your eyebrows as you took a deep sigh. “I thought you wanted to know what it felt like.”

“Of course I do, but this isn’t it.” He pulls his stool from underneath him closer to you. He set his finished drink aside for the bartender to take and slouches his shoulders. “Let’s just go home. This is no way to do this.”

And like that, a lightbulb flickered in your head until it bursts with endless luminosity. “We should go home. Because you’re gonna do it with me.”

You drag him by the wrist and immediately go hail a taxi, flailing your arms like a psychopath until one was desperate enough for cash to take you.

“Are you drunk?” Seokmin asks in bemusement. “Why the hell would we of all people do that?”

“Why the hell not? I’m flexible. I can take my leg all the way up to my shoulder.”

Seokmin’s jaw slightly drops upon hearing that, picturing that, before shaking out the words from his head and realizing too late he’s joining you in a cab. “Not the point. Why are you willing to help me by going that far?”

You look at him with a stern face before shushing him with your free hand and turning to the driver with your address. You finally arrive back at your apartment, paying the driver before getting out of the car and dragging him up the flights of stairs. 

“You still haven’t answered me,” his voice echoes in the building fixtures, booming louder than usual. “And slow down, will you?”

“Walk faster.”

Entering your apartment, you realize this is the first time he’s been in here. You realize it’s the first time anyone’s been in here. You toss your keys aside and offer Seokmin a drink. He sounds off a decline and takes in the gravity of this situation as he’s scanning your residence. “Your place is nice.”

You grin, tugging him to your side again, and drag him to the couch to immediately straddle his lap abruptly. “Thank you. I like to think I’m settled in by now.”

“Are we actually doing this?”

You smooth your pal over his shoulders, your smile picking up from one side. “You don’t seem entirely against it.” You press down on the grown erection under you, a soft groan leaving his lips.

“Of course not, little Seokmin barely has a mind of his own—“

You squint. “You call him little Seokmin—“

“Besides the point, don’t listen to him. He’s only thinking of one thing.”

“Sounds like me and him are on the same page, now all we need is you. Tell me why we shouldn’t, Seokmin,” You say as you start grinding down on his toned, firm thigh. You watch his face contort in interest, submission, succumbing to your advances. Your hand trails over his cheek, noting how his breath hitches when your fingertips tap against his neck. “While I give every reason why we should.”

He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. “Y/n—shit, this is such a b-bad idea.”

“That’s not a reason, Seokmin.”

“I could do something wrong.”

“Which is why I’d teach you, baby.”

He blinks back at you frantically, his cock straining in his pants until it hurts. He looks so pliable and pretty, it takes everything in you to keep the pace slow. At a moment’s notice, your hand thread through his hair and pulls his head back. He softly whimpers, eyes struggling to stay on you as your lips made their way down his jaw, then his neck, before closing your lips around his adam’s apple. 

Seokmin holds down his pants to keep from poking you, and uses his shallows breath to distract him from your lewd gestures. He realizes how ineffective as your hips dip into his, pushing against his cock, and a groan leaves his lips like live pornography. It physically moves you to the point you’re determined to hear more.

“Tell me, Seok. What can I do to convince you?”

“Apparently, not much,” he mumbles with a harsh blush against his cheeks and ears, struggling underneath you, “Why do you want this?”

“Me?” You push his head back up to meet his eyes. “I just had a sudden hankering for virgin pretty boys. Is that a good enough reason?”

“...Ok, I-I think so–” and your lips meet his, pressing into his body and letting it naturally melt around him.

His hands claim home reluctantly around your body, feeling the soft texture of your back over your shirt before caressing it tenderly. His other arm loops around your hips, discovering how perfectly it hugs your body close to his as follows your languid movement in the kiss. It scratches a part of his brain to hear you moan the way you did, he feels himself kissing you deeper, needier. 

Seokmin’s body slouches underneath yours, gripping your thighs until he was squished at his waist and gradually his hips move on their own against you. His cock bumps against your throbbing cunt repeatedly until he’s practically drilling against you. Your voice, sultry yet delicate, burns in his ears, turning them a vibrant scarlet and suddenly he’s lifting you with your body tightly wound to him and pushed into the cushions of the couch.

You let out a startled gasp, not having predicted such action and his body is relentlessly against yours against you, digging into you, taunting you, ruining you. “You, t-tease.”

Seokmin acts as if he doesn’t hear, as if he can only focus on how good it feels for his cock to rub against you right now. His body rolls against you enough that you can feel the friction of the zipper on your clit, making you writhe underneath him.  His kisses grow hungrier, tongue traveling inside you like he’s starved for every morsel. It’s pure animal instinct. So pure and primal, he’s convinced he’ll cum right then and there, but practices self-restraint. If he’s learned one thing from satisfying his own urges, it’s patience. 

Your legs wrap around him, pushing him closer, the sensual noises you make only make him fall deeper, making him weaker.

“Put it in me…” you cry, “I want your cock fuck so deep inside me. Please, Seokmin…”

Seokmin finds the word “no” to be impossible at this point, but he can’t help but still feel anxious at the idea of it happening. “Hold on.” He procures his wallet from his back pocket before taking out the condom you planted earlier in there for him and sets it aside on the coffee table. “I’m sure you want your clothes off, yeah?”

His hand comes at the hem of his long sleeve before it over and off his body, revealing a body you’ve only ever seen in sports catalogs. You’re so stunned at the clear concaves and curves of his abs and pecs, you barely grasp that he’s helping you with your shirt off. His hand smooths over your frame as he’s kissing over your chest, moving against you again to distract you from your request moments ago.

He slips your pants between your bodies, hearing it hit the ground, and replicates that movement with his own pants, now only the barrier of your underwear stopping you. He swallows noticing the giant stain right where the center of your core is. “It’s so…wet.”

“Yeah, it’s what you’ve been doing to me.”

He ravels you like it's a delicate process, slipping down the sides of your panties until over your legs and off your body to have your bare pussy, glossy from all the arousal, twitching at the sight. It fuels something in him. “Shit…”

“Do it…put it in me…”

He swallows again, knowing his little Seokmin badly wants what you want, so what is he stalling for? He shut his eyes, taking in deep breaths. “Okay…”

“Don’t be scared…I’ll only bite if you want me to. Take out your cock for me.”

Just as slowly as he has done you, his briefs come down achingly slow, but reveal the perfectly big cock ready for the taking it. You marvel at it, drool forming at the corner of your lips, your clench and unclench your fist before darting for his girth. However, you are prevented from doing so by Seokmin himself, feeling the tremble in his hands. “I-I’ll do it. I just–”

“You don’t have to be nervous, Seokmin. It’s just me.”

“That’s exactly why I am nervous.”

“But why–ah, ah, shit.”

You feel him ease into you, the stretch of his cock was deafening with every mouth-watering inch. He takes light strokes as a test, plunging his fat cock into you like nothing while you bite your bottom lip, eyes flicking to the back of your skull. 

“Wait, shit, the condom.”

You shake your head. “Don’t bother. I rather we didn’t anyway. Fuck, you’re so big.”

“Am I?” He asks pumping in you in a concise rhythm. “That feel good? Am I doing it right?”

You softly moan, clenching around him as you absorb the soft, careful tone in his words. “Yes, Minnie, but deep for me, please. Do what feels natural. Use me like your toy.”

“O-okay.”

He takes your advice and down pushes in deeper, groaning at the sensation as he picks up the speed. “Fuck…”

“Shit, that’s unreal.” You whine, “Faster, Seok. I said to use me.”

He listens as he’s fucking you faster, harder. He clutches the flesh of your ass cheeks, spreading you open. Your body stiffens, hands over his knuckles as you follow him. “Yes, like that. Fuck.”

He’s barely comprehensible in his grunts, truly seeing you as a thing to fuck that he just knows will make him insufferable. “Your. Pussy’s. So. Good.”

“Yeah, you like that Minnie? You like splitting my raw pussy open with your fat fucking cock?”

He nods gingerly.“Yes. I. Do. Shit. Pussy’s. So. Wet. Good. Around. Cock.” He folds into you, pressing his chest against yours and kissing your lips to swallow your moans. “That. Feel. Good?”

“So good, baby. Give it to me more, baby.”

“More? More?”

He pounds you harder, biting your lips as his hand roams down to find your clit. You moan like a stupid slut at that but take a moment of bemusement to wonder where the hell that came from. “W-where? How?”

“Porn.”

He makes it so that you can move even an inch away from him, feeling your sweat mixes into each other until you don’t know where you start or he ends. He rubs your moisture around your clit while his thrusts remain an enigma, once so timid and careful, now leaving you breathless with every generous jerk every waking second. 

Eager to experiment more, Seokmin pulls you up from the couch and pressed your chest against the cool wooden coffee table, pulling your ass in the air. His cock reenters you from behind, now the sound of your ass slapping against his lap is so delectably wet and delicious, that everything else feels numb. 

You grip the edge of the table, legs elevated with curled toes. “Yes, fill me up please…you fuck me so fucking good…oh, Seokmin…a fucking natural…”

He finds your clit once more, going at it for what feels like forever, and enjoys you as if it's the last. He revels in your entirety contracting against him and he knows his patience can only take so much at this point.

“Seok, I’m cumming. I’m cumming. Just like that, please.”

He knows it's the beginning of the end the moment you open that dirty mouth of yours. He holds himself together, letting you come apart around him before he’s announcing he’s close with much trepidation. You nod back knowingly, a wide smile breaking out on your face. “Pull out, and put it in my mouth.”

He quickly obliges, seeing you getting on your knees and grasping at his shaft. You angle him at your lips, the slick force from your fingers milk every built-up tension from his cock and bursting it in your mouth in milky white. He memorializes how it hits your tongue, how big your smile is before you lick up every bit of it and suck his cock clean, and how much relief and pleasure he’s gotten from the whole ordeal. He’s overcome with a sense of gratitude.

“That was good. The student learns fast.”

“That was good,” he repeats.

“Amazing, actually.”

“Okay.” At this point, it was understandable to his brain had become mush, but he never knew it come to this extent.

You chuckle. “Your first time good?”

“Very.”

“Good, now I’m gonna teach you a little thing about aftercare. Lords knows how many guys go out fucking without knowing what is.” 

Before you begin getting up he pushes you back down, a fierce look of determination from his eyes. “Can I eat you out first?”

Your eyes shoot open in pleasant surprise, quickly maneuvering yourself to sit back on the coffee table with spread legs. “Looks like someone’s been doing his homework.”

That night you learn he wasn’t only natural with his dick he was a natural with his mouth too. it helped to have his pretty nose.

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

[justatypicalwizard]

Wants Within | S. Shinazugawa | Chapter 15

✦ Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au, reader is adult

✦ Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate event you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention.

✦ Word count: 2,1k

18+, minors do not interact

''Can we also stay in touch?'' He asked out of the blue.

''Huh?'' You were taken aback. Why did so many people want to be friends with you today? ''I mean, uh, I don't know what to say.'' You scratched your head in embarrassment and Zenitsu looked at his shoes, his cheeks bright red. ''Why would you want that? I'm a weird person, doing... weird, you know what I mean, things and you only met me like a few hours ago.''

He didn't look at you, instead he gave the sky a longing glance. You heard him inhale deeply and a wheezing sound came out as he exhaled.

''We, I mean me and my friends that you met, are also a bit weird.'' He was talking quietly. ''Maybe we don't look like that but... mmm, uh, I don't know. You just clicked.'' Zenitsu crossed his arms on his chest. ''I don't have a lot of friends and I don't want to miss the opportunity to find someone that... doesn't... make fun of... me.'' The last part was merely a whisper.

You looked at him, his stance was off, like he was trying to hide within himself. His cheeks were red, eyes averting your gaze and his breath heavy, it was obvious he was trying to keep his ventilation steady. He must have been very anxious.

''So you would want to be friends even after I tell you that I lied to Tanjiro about that exercise, that I used him to get to you just to talk to you?'' You didn't have the heart to lie to him.

''I wouldn't be brave enough to do something like that... but if I could I would do the same in your situation.'' The blonde finally looked at you and you saw no malice in his eyes.

''Wow, you're something!'' Feeling the air lighten you cracked a small smile.

Maybe keeping close to the group wouldn't be such a nuisance in the end. At least you would have an eye on them... and you could really make some new friends.

''If you'll really accept me like that, then why not. Let's give it a chance.'' You took out your hand for him. ''I'm Y/N L/N, nice to meet you.''

He shook your hand with a small smile and the two of you took off, chatting a bit before you went your way.

Little did you know that someone was watching you from the university window, wondering what the two of you could be talking about.

-

Later on you met with Shinazugawa. You came to his office and he closed the door behind you.

''And what?'' He didn't even say any 'hello'.

''I talked to him.'' You answered.

''... and?'' He was very impatient.

''And he said he won't tell anyone because it's not his business. You told me that in his opinion I don't get any university related benefits from... that, so he doesn't care what I do in my free time.''

Shinazugawa gave you a glance, leaning on the office desk. He sighed deeply, undoing yet another button of his shirt and grabbing a paper to fan himself. He obviously lost his cool here. You understanded him damn well. You could just change universities, he could lose his hard earned career.

''I will also stay in contact with these guys.'' You added after a moment of silence. ''I don't want to spy on them or anything like that, they seem cool and asked me out.''

The whitehaired gave you another, raised brow look.

''They asked you out? The only thing that you do is work and study.'' Ouch, that hurt.

''Well, yes, they did. Actually one dude asked for my phone number and the blonde one told me personally that he would like to know me.'' You started to defend your hurt ego.

You didn't know what was going on in Shinazugawa's head because he paused for a second, just looking at you. Then, he straightened out and came closer to you. His lips met your in a semi-passionate kiss. His body kept it cool, not particularly touching you but his tongue told otherwise. It was exploring your lips like the other night.

You were out of your mind, enjoying the moment way too much. He was just so absorbing, so handsome, well built and cocky. Placing your hands on his chest you felt his muscles. A moan escaped your lips and you jumped away from him in fear.

''Too loud!'' You whisper shouted, cupping your mouth.

''You idio... nevermind. The doors and walls are soundproof. Like in any other place at the university. If they weren't everyone would hear everyone else. Imagine writing a test like that.'' He said.

Oh, that makes sense.

You nodded your head feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. Once again you came out stupid in front of him.

''But I'm happy to see, you are concerned about the right things.'' Shinazugawa went back to his desk and sat on his chair motioning for you to do the same.

Taking the place in front of him, you looked him in the eye, not knowing what was going on.

''Was that a one-time thing?'' The whitehaired asked you in a serious tone.

''I... I don't know.'' You were honest with him, you had no idea.

''Okay, than what would you say if I told you that I wouldn't want it to be a one-time thing.'' He looked you dead in the eye.

Your breath got trapped in your throat as you processed what he just said. Your mind was screaming yes and no at the same time. You wanted it badly, your crush on him still painfully present, but the fear of getting caught...

''I'll give you time to think about it, you don't need to answer me now. I just wanted to tell you that if you want I can give you my personal phone number, you wouldn't have to be scared of writing. Also the New Year's Eve was unfortunate, but we could be... more careful next time.'' Something behind his eyes made you nod your head.

''But why?'' The question slipped out of your lips before you could think.

Yet it was so important to you. Why did he want to have such a relationship with you? He was a godly-looking young man with a great career and could have someone way better than a Patric the Starfish-looking, broke student.

He was about to say something but the door swung open. Professor Rengoku came in with a bright smile plastered on his face.

''Shinazugawa, may I ask about...'' He spotted you.

The two of you blinked a few times at each other.

''Well hello there young lady.'' He greeted you.

''Rengoku you don't have to be like that, and please, close the door.'' Shinazugawa sighed, the open, kinda tender side you saw just a moment before was long gone. ''He knows Miss Y/N.''

Your jaw dropped to the ground and you felt like Professor Rengoku's gaze changed. It was of course just your feeling because the energetic man didn't hold anything against the whole situation. Moreover, he was happy for his friend! You looked like such a nice and caring girl.

-

The blonde made his way through the university hallways, smiling at everyone. Students smiled back at him and greeted wherever he would go. He felt pure love for this place.

It was another beautiful sunny day, even though it was winter, there was literally no sun, and it was freezing cold outside. Nevertheless, the sun never set in Rengoku's heart! He loved his job, he loved the students, he loved his friends. He was a ball of good energy that rubbed on anyone he would encounter. Because of that the world treated him with the same amount of love, or at least that's what he would say to himself.

As he made his way around the campus, he saw a familiar figure. You were standing in front of a lecture room. Other people were standing in groups, chatting and laughing, but you were all alone. Your only company was the science book in your hand.

Rengoku felt as if someone hit him in the face. He was just about to go to you and ask if by any means your day wasn't absolutely fabulous, and if not, how could he help you change it, but someone stopped him.

A group of girls circled you and started ranting about something. You quickly caught up on the topic, smiling and laughing. After a short while you all waved you goodbyes and they went on, leaving you with the book again.

So you weren't all alone, you were just studying.

Another slap in the face, this time from a memory. He saw his best friend, sitting in the cafeteria alone, studying something as he was eating. He was always so serious and focused on his work, even though he was so much fun, at least for Rengoku. In Rengoku's mind you and Sanemi looked alike.

He felt his chest rise and an electric shock bolt through his spine. Right now, he knew what he had to do.

Maybe Shinazugawa wasn't the one to ask for help but that didn't mean he didn't need it. When the whitehaired asked Rengoku what he thought about the one-night stand with you he didn't think much about it. It was okay, why not, you were pretty. What really questioned him was, why Shinazugawa started to maintain a relationship with you. Rengoku had a feeling that the answer was quite obvious.

He decided that he would talk to Sanemi the very same day.

Later on Rengoku found his way to Shinazugawa's office and not expecting anyone in particular he slammed the door open.

''Shinazugawa, may I ask about...''

There you were, sitting beside Sanemi's desk, looking at Rengoku as if you saw a ghost. The only thing that the blonde wanted to do was to pat your head, hug you to his muscular chest and tell you that everything will be okay, that Professor Rengoku is here and will help you with whatever problem you've got so that the light in your heart never fades. But that would be called sexual harrasment so he restrained himself.

''Well hello there young lady.''

''Rengoku, you don't have to be like that, and please, close the door. He knows Miss Y/N.''

Now you looked like you saw two ghosts and it physically hurt Rengoku that he caused someone such distress.

''It's fine you lady, I'm so very happy to meet you finally.'' He thought to himself that maybe acting like he in fact didn't know would work.

''Uh, good evening... um.'' Much to Rengoku's displeasure the girl got up, packed her stuff and started to leave.

''I'll think about it and I promise to give you an answer soon, professor.'' With that you left.

Sanemi glanced at Rengoku furious for destroying the moment.

''What?'' The blonde asked.

''Why the fuck did you have to pop up at this exact moment. Why the fuck didn't you take the hint and leave.'' The whitehaired standed up, his palms gripping the desk.

''And why are you so angry about me destroying the moment?'' This threw Shinazugawa off the track. He plopped down on the seat with a shocked expression. It was a rare sight to see Sanemi so out of speech. ''Hm?'' Rengoku pursued.

''Nevermind.'' The whitehaired spat out, looking the other way.

''I actually think this is kind of important.'' The blonde smiled a wide grin. ''Tell me Sanemi, why do you risk your career to meet with a girl that you still refer to as only a one-night stand. That one night already passed, you should let it go. Unless, you werent honest when you said she is just a one-night stand. What is so special about her Sanemi?'' Rengoku purred, both of them sitting in Shinazugawa's office after you left. The snow falling in the dark behind the window. ''Does she have a magical vagina? If she does we should have a threesome, I want to see.''

''What?'' Shinazugawa sweatdropped. ''No, her vagina is nor... what are we even talking about!''

''Then why?''

Sanemi realised what game Rengoku was playing and it got on his nerves. Yet, he had to admit, it was something he was thinking about. Why did the thought of you disappearing after you got what you wanted hurt him?

''I don't know.'' The whitehaired sighed.

''Maybe you could use some advice?''

Shinazugawa only glanced from under his messy hair and rolled his eyes.

''Maybe you have a crush?'' The blonde asked.

''I'm not in love.'' Sanemi spat out.

''I don't say it's love. It may be just an innocent crush.'' Rebgoku spread his hands in the air. ''Next time you meet, don't just bang, talk to her.''

''How do you know we will meet next time? You actually came in the middle of her saying if she wants to or not.''

''Let's just say I have a feeling.'' 

SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@secretxchive @vesperazhier

[aronarchy]

all those “How To Be Nicer To Your Kids And Maybe Yell A Little Less While Still Getting The Same ‘Good Results’ Uwu” “classes” for parents (whose kids finally stopped being able to mask how fucking distressed they are all the damn time) :: all those “How To Not Abuse Your Partner” “programs” for partners who got called out for being abusive for the first times in their entire lives (but they’re still living with the other person and treat the whole thing like it’s a “journey” where they’re “learning” to “improve themself” & make it all about them)

like. if you need “how to not abuse other people” lessons maybe you should, yknow, stay away from them until you have it all down? because, like, these are the fucking basics if you want to interact with others? but no that’s not what ever happens, bc the entire point is that it only matters whether they know/don’t know if they already have access to victims they can abuse. but none of those nice uwu webinars can actually get the results we really need bc if they did then they would be telling the abusers to relinquish control of their victims but they don’t, bc they can only allow themselves to stretch the logics so far & fundamental assumptions/beliefs still remain the same.

the general idea of the above, and other liberal violence prevention projects in general, is that abusers are merely “mistaken” about what is/isn’t harmful (or “producing good results”), & that the problem is just they believe individual types of actions are ok and just need to be “taught” they’re actually not, and that things would all be fine if they just did enough one-by-one fine tunings of the above but that is an obviously incorrect theory when in reality various individual acts of abuse exist within a larger context and that larger context is fundamentally believing one person is entitled to control and violate another’s autonomy and giving one person the power to do so while the other is prevented from escaping/fighting back. i.e. that you should not be doing this in the first place and even if it did genuinely make it impossible for you to get the fantasy close-loving-relationship or successful-happy-productive-child-doll you want then you should still not do it bc that is not w/in your rights.

& when abusers do take such “classes” they tend to brag about all the new things they’ve been learning, omg I feel so enlightened wow why didn’t I know this before, wow shouldnt the whole world be proud of me i am Literally Becoming A Great Person &, like, that is not something to be proud of lol. & if you really wanted to stop violence then you would help victims be able to escape their abusers and not have to interact w/them again / be under their power. but no that’s too hard for the nonviolence crowd who want to peace & love & educate their way to a harm-free world.

if you’re really feeling sorry abt what you did bc you finally realized that your victim got fucked up then you have to commit to that. you have to completely & fundamentally relinquish your control and beliefs of entitlement to control. you have to not only change individual actions but also your beliefs about the ways in which you may interact w/other people. and you cannot treat it like it is just another opportunity for you to get what you want. and you have to be willing to let go and not throw tantrums if they want to leave/break off entirely and you have to constantly, consistently demonstrate that you are safe for them to say no to & set boundaries with & express discomfort around and that you will not retaliate when they do so. and you will have to keep this up, fully and without pause, for the rest of your life. and you need to stop acting like this is anything more than the absolute bare minimum.

alternatively you can simply decide that you will not again have the same kind of relationships of power that you had previously & which you carr(ied) fundamentally fucked up beliefs about. that’ll save everyone a lot of time and effort—maybe even you too.

and you better choose one or the other quick or else we’ll have to choose it for you. & you might not like the answer.

[sothera]

Things...change...habits, beliefs, all kinds of things....

People... change... sometimes in startling, unexpected ways, for different reasons.

People leave, too, also for different reasons...

Sometimes, they get left behind too...

For different reasons....

"Stop it..." Soth thought to himself "This is what you do when Joey isn't around to snap you out of it."

And the things you used to do to keep such thoughts under control are no longer helpful. Mere physicality doesn't work, and mediation eludes you because of the books.

Another kind of action is needed; direct connection, contact.... he'd let people slip away, that was going to change...

At that moment, Soth wished it was a Hide Behind; at least he could deal with that bare handed... Ryder's monster was a little more complicated.

It didn't help that it was gloomy here either.

This was one of three that Ryder's dad owned; Ryder spent his time here because he was mostly alone and could do things for David without being nagged by his dad. Soth went in through the 'people' entrance...

He wondered what The League would think; him, going in through the 'people' entrance.

Soth heard the "Bee-Bee" sound that announced his presence, but no one greeted him...

"Hello?...Ryder?..."

That whole thing about the Hide Behind was just a joke....

"Be right there!" came a familiar voice.

Soth relaxed; not everything was life or death, at least not up here...

...at least not in the way he was trained for it...

"Back here; just getting these two scanned and out." Ryder said. He shut off the links and both cars went silent.

"Should I come back there?" Soth asked

"No, just give me a second." Ryder said, putting the tool right back in place. He walked out to the holding room.

"Wow, check you out, you have a little color splash, and a belt, and actual pants, what's the special occasion?" Ryder asked.

"Coming to see you." Soth answered. "It's been a while, and some things have happened."

Soth filled Ryder in on the events of the last few days...

"So...there's a house for sale...cheap..." Ryder said.

"You did hear what I said about it, right?" Soth couldn't believe it...

"Yeah....but...you and those people made sure it was 'cleaned out', right?" Ryder asked

"Yes, but, once a house is tainted that way, it could attract, things..." Soth said.

"Yeah, but how likely is that here, on The Surface?" Ryder asked, "I mean, really, there are some books and movies about it, but really, if something happens, I have the best guy on any Earth to help, and that guy has a small army of people that can help him, right?"

"Yes, but...why now, why so fast, maybe you should take time to breathe, think..." Soth said, actually nervous now.

"Look....Soth....the reason I haven't been around lately is because my dad...gave me this building...along with enough money to run it for a year. He said it was about time to see if I could manage the business without him. I've been doubling up on my own degree; business management, I'm almost done." Ryder said.

"What...why so quick?" Soth asked.

"I think he wants to retire early; I don't know what he's going to do with the other two buildings; keep them, sell, I don't know, but this...all this...is mine now. I cleared out the top floor; I live there now, at least for now." Ryder said.

"Then there's Natalie; she's done, degree and all...I can't ask her to live above a garage, no matter how neat and clean it is....if I had a house..." Ryder said.

"You intend to...propose to her..." Soth asked

"Eventually: if I had a house...a home...at that price...I could furnish it and have it ready. No shacking up with the parents, no living above a garage..." Ryder said.

"This building could be repurposed, at least the top floor, into something nice..." Soth said.

"That house....it's too good an opportunity to pass up, although Nat will need an office..." Ryder said.

"Can you help me out?" Ryder asked

Soth looked at him; the first contact he'd had with someone on The Surface, who at first thought he might be harboring a monster...

... who helped him find food; the kind of 'food' he needed...

...then fed him actual food he bought for him...

...then stood up to Brann when he thought Brann was out of line...

...then took him to his house, let him bathe, had his old clothes washed when he returned...

...what else could he do?...

"I will help you however I can; just don't go too fast, Vala isn't here yet, she is the only one that can put your head back on if it explodes." Soth said, smiling.

"I know I've laid a lot of things out in front of you; I was going to come and let all of you know about the building, but now." Ryder said.

"It's okay; this is a very happy but busy time for you, I just wanted to know if you were okay with... everything." Soth said.

"Natalie's grandmother, strange to say, is the psychiatrist, or rather "counselor", so that would be another person who would have to know." Ryder said.

"Hmm...I'll talk to everyone tomorrow and see, in the meantime, let's talk like we used to..." Soth said.

"Okay..." Ryder said, smiling.

[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[mickey-henry]

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

pairing: bucky barnes (bookstore au) x reader

summary: eager to escape the heat, you find yourself in the presence of a mesmerizing bookstore and an irresistibly beautiful man.

word count: 2.3K

author’s note: hello! welcome to my third fic😊 I’m eager to share this with you all! I now have a taglist (the link is also in my bio) if you’re interested🥰 thank you to @certainaesthetic​ for helping me workshop this idea, @fuckandfluff​ for the grammar help, and @midnightf​ for hyping me up as I wrote it! likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! the header images are from pinterest and the divider is from here. I hope you like it! 💖

You’re desperate to escape the smoldering heat. It’s too hot to rest in the car; it’s been baking all day beneath the sweltering summer sun, parked just outside your place of work. If you attempt to sit in it now, you’d only be greeted with a wave of torrid air, stung with the touch of your seatbelt, and burnt from the searing leather of your steering wheel.

You’re off from work earlier than usual—the blinding sun is usually long beneath the horizon before you head home for the day. The pathetically small sun visor does nothing to shade your eyes from the blazing sunlight. Rather than driving half-blind, you decide to wait out the setting sun.

As you ponder how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you realize that now is an opportune time to visit the new bookstore, The Book Haven, that opened last month. After changing out of your uniform and throwing your work stuff in the trunk, you walk across the plaza to the shop entrance.

The bookstore greets you with the chime of a bell and a rush of cool air as you step in, a blissful contrast to the scorching outdoors. The welcoming scent of coffee grounds and the tangy aroma of old books accompany the refreshing breeze. You take a deep breath, appreciating the convivial atmosphere. The bookstore is a sublime sight; words almost can’t describe its charm.

Shelves like skyscrapers—stuffed to the brim with books, magazines, and comics—graze the ceiling. An intimate reading nook lies next to the door; an inviting window seat dwells beside a floor-to-ceiling window. Clear mosaic window clings cover the glass, casting beautiful rainbows throughout the store. Stringed vintage light bulbs illuminate the shelves; candle-lit sconces adorn the top corners of each one. Oriental rugs lay between the shelves, covering a dark mocha floor. Tucked in the back of the store is a small coffee cranny, hidden at first glance. Frank Sinatra’s charming, rich vocals travel through the air, tickling your ears. The owner clearly put the utmost time, energy, and love into the creation of their shop. It is unequivocally perfect and already one of your favorite places.

You wander to the classics section, enthralled by the exquisite covers. Sensing someone nearby, your eyes glance at movement caught in the corner of your eye. Your stomach somersaults at the stunning stranger. The instant you lay your eyes on him, you forget to breathe for a moment—your breath engulfs your throat. You’re astounded by the Adonis of a man before you.

Bristles of scruff grace his defined jawline—his low man-bun neatly styles his dark chestnut hair. A grey short-sleeve button-up shirt hugs his toned arms; a white tank top clings to his lean, fit frame; cuffed slim-fit khaki pants, help up by a bronze braided belt, embrace his thick thighs; and weathered, chunky brown leather shoes don his feet.

Through the rose-colored glasses that surround your heart, your soul imagines a life with a perfect stranger. The hopeless romantic in you can’t help but steal glances, hoping to catch a better glimpse of him. The moment he turns to walk away, your heart sinks to your stomach. You hope this isn’t the last time you see this gorgeous man.

A few minutes later, you’re mulling over a collectible edition of The Catcher in the Rye, attempting to justify purchasing yet another copy of your favorite book. A melodic voice interrupts your pondering. “That’s a pretty edition of The Catcher in the Rye you’ve got there.”

You turn towards the charming voice. Lo-and-behold, it’s the love of your life: the handsome stranger you’ve mentally lived a lifetime with. His beauty is even more profound up close: now you can see that his eyes are a lovely shade of blue. His eyes, haunted by a subtle sadness, draw you in, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself entranced in his sea-blue current; you could easily drown in his gaze. You attempt to hide your awestruck expression and converse with him like a normal human being. “I agree! I already own a copy though, do I really need a new one?”

“I think we both know the answer is always yes,” he assures.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I'll get it! Thank you for justifying my unnecessary purchase.”

Your words hang in the air, everything going quiet as you wait for the ravishing stranger to introduce himself. The two of you stare in silence at each other, the tension thickening as the seconds pass by. After a few moments, his face flashes in realization—you were waiting for his name.

“I’m Bucky,” he offers with an enchanting smile, extending his hand out to you. You share your name as the two of you shake hands. Your eyes stare down his veiny arm to his ring-studded fingers grasped around yours. You allow yourself to imagine for a few moments how amazing those fingers would feel tracing your arms, tangling your hair, and teasing your inner thigh. Your lustful reverie comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the book nestled inside the crook of his elbow: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, the bane of your existence. You scoff with furrowed brows; of course, Mr. Handsome Stranger would be interested in the one book you despise.

“Got something to say there, sweetheart?” he questions with an amused grin.

“Out of all the classic novels in this entire store, that’s the one you chose? The Metamorphosis?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he jives.

You pause for a second, debating whether it’s worth it to argue with a stranger. The pondering lasts only a few seconds; the exhaustion from your day disintegrates your filter. Besides, you loathe The Metamorphosis.

“What isn’t wrong with it? The dude wakes up thinking he’s an insect? The reader has to sit there throughout the entire book, wondering whether he’s a man or a bug? What the actual fuck? I didn’t appreciate the existential crisis that book gave me at fifteen; if I can help someone else avoid the suffering caused by that monstrosity, I'm going to do my part,” you huff, unamused by the joy Bucky seems to gain from your zealous analysis.

“Wow, what a passionate review! Perez Hilton would be envious of your slander. Okay then, what classic would you recommend instead?”

You cross your arms, expecting him to challenge your response. “The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.”

“That’s a play,” he counters.

“It’s published as a book; it counts! It’s witty, playful, and has a happy ending, which is the most important point of all. It also doesn’t make you want to pull a Fahrenheit 451 and burn every copy in existence,” you attest.

He steps closer to you, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, sweetheart.”

Great, there he goes again with that freaking pet name; it’s going to be the death of you. He knows your name, you just gave it to him, yet here he is, infuriatingly insisting on calling you sweetheart instead. Stupid pretty boy with his ocean blue eyes and amorous smile.

“That’s exactly the point,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So, why would I want to read something that doesn’t end well? If I’m going to escape this reality for a while, it better be for a happier one.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I’ll throw the book across the room and make up my own happy ending!”

“Ooh, aggressive,” he tuts. “The owner of this place might not be too happy with you if you’re throwing books all over the place; it’ll scare away the customers.”

“Then it’s a good thing the owner isn’t here,” you interject confidently, knowing full well you have no idea who the owner is.

“Well, that just isn’t true, sweetheart. You’re looking right at him.”

He’s lying—he has to be. Why would a dreamboat like Bucky own a bookstore?

You scoff, “you’re not the owner of this place.”

“I’m not? What makes you say that?” he banters.

“People like you don’t own bookstores!” you exclaim.

“People like me?” he goads, cocking his head to the side. The action erupts butterflies in your stomach.

“Attractive people!” you groan.

“So you think I’m attractive?” he plays, stepping to close the gap between you.

“Psh, no, you wish,” you muster. The heat spreading across your cheeks betrays your bluff.

There are mere inches between the both of you now; you hope he can’t hear your racing heartbeat. You watch his eyes go down from yours to your mouth and back up again. He eyes you with a smirk, his teeth playfully tugging his bottom lip. It takes everything in your power not to give in to his spell.

“I’ve known you for what, five minutes? I don’t go around kissing strangers, Bucky,” you falter, taking a step back from his closeness.

“Then let’s not be strangers, sweetheart. Grab a coffee with me; I know a nice place, not far from here,” he flirts, gesturing to the counter at the back of the store.

“Let me learn more about what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he purrs, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a coffee with you,” you surrender.

A bright, honeyed smile dons his face.  

“It better be good, though. Not the stale crap you usually get in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’d only give you the best, sweetheart,” he winks, extending his right hand. You take it; he gives you a soft squeeze before weaving you through the towering shelves.

Your discussion continues with another passionate book review as he prepares your drink. He’s a sucker for gritty dystopian novels while you gravitate towards sappy romances. He shares his passion for painting as he guides you to the reading nook. The artwork hung on the edges of the bookcases is crafted by him—a detail you hadn’t noticed at first glance. His stunning work features both landscapes and people. He loves to sit in a picturesque landscape and paint for endless hours. Occasionally, he takes his old polaroid as he explores the town, snapping moments between strangers, translating their intimacy to canvas when he gets home.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the reading nook before handing you our steaming cup of joe. You sit with your legs crossed, your hands hugging the mug in your lap. Bucky sits with his leg draped over the side of the bench, his left foot pressing into his right thigh. The conversation shifts topics; the two of you divulge your desires and unfulfilled ambitions. You aren’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes, the sweet cup of joe in your palms, or the aroma of coffee surrounding you, but in his presence, your senses feel wide awake.

Before you know it, the mesmeric moon replaces the sizzling sun, melting away the blistering heat, and the steaming cup of coffee in your hands has long chilled. Bucky’s employee interrupts the blissful rendezvous, informing him that all the closing duties are complete, and he’s headed home for the night.

You stare at your watch in shock—it's five past nine. Where did the time go? You apologize profusely to the poor kid who had to close up alone; he assures you it’s no problem.

A melancholic pit in your stomach forms as you turn back to Bucky. He’s nestled himself into your soul; you don’t want to say farewell to him so soon. He has a sad glint in his eyes; you hope it’s because he’s also dreading the end of this perfect night.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks timidly, his earlier suave demeanor gone from his voice. He stands up in front of you, offering his arm to escort you.

“I’d love that,” you reply with a shy grin, grabbing his arm and hugging it tightly.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in front of your car. You let go of his arm and lean against the trunk. You stare into his eyes, hoping that he can see without the use of words how much you don’t want this moment to end. There’s a few moments of painful silence before Bucky clears his throat.

“So, now that we’re not total strangers, how about that kiss?” he flirts with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you reply with a bashful smile.

He slowly reaches his hand towards your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. He presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this? ‘Cause if we do, you might not be able to get rid of me, sweetheart.”

“Yes I do, Bucky,” you giggle.

He grins as he gently presses his pillowy pink lips on yours. The kiss steals all the air from your lungs—his touch sends tingles throughout your body, electrifying your veins. You’re breathless when your lips finally part.

“Let me get your number before I let you go,” Bucky insists. You nod and hand him your phone, unable to form a coherent thought.  The ghost of his lips and fingers trace your figure. You’re barely acquainted with his tender touch, yet you feel naked without it, yearning to once again be within his grasp.

You exchange phones—adding your number and name with a sparkling heart emoji and swiftly passing his phone back before you can change your mind. Bucky snaps a quick selfie for his contact, smirking for the camera. You grin when you see he also put emojis by his name: a beetle and a kissy-face.

He pecks your cheek before opening the car door for you. “Hope to see you around, lovebug.” The new pet name burns your cheeks and erupts butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn’t leave the parking lot until your car disappears completely from his view.

You drive home with thoughts of Bucky swirling in your mind. You send a silent thanks to the universe for bringing this beautiful man into your life. His voice, touch, and smile echo in your thoughts for the remainder of the evening—his presence paving its way through your dreams. You’re falling hard and fast; you only hope he’ll be there to catch you.

tagging a few mutuals who expressed interest in this story🥰please fill out the taglist form if you’d like to be tagged in the next story! 💖

@ritesofreverie @midnightf @certainaesthetic

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[coffeeshib]

Kara just really really wants to date Lena supercorp au?

“Date me,” Kara says.

“No,” Lena answers calmly.

Kara gasps, blinking fast, shocked by the nonchalant response. Lena merely looks at her tablet, her attention clearly divided. Her best friend sits cross-legged next to her on the couch, sweater and sweatpants and socks on, comfortable and relaxed.

“No? But—Lena, I’m cute and funny.” Kara scrunches her nose and squints at Lena’s tablet screen.

Lena pauses. “That’s true,” she says slowly, and finally looks at Kara. Lifting her hand up, she pushes Kara’s glasses back up on her nose using her index finger. Then, she only just returns her attention back to her tablet.

Alex squints at them from across the room. “Oh, great,” she groans, before standing up and taking her phone out of her pocket. “Where's Kelly?” she mumbles to herself as she leaves the living room, making her way to Lena’s balcony.

“Is that—wait, so is that a yes?”

“It’s a no, Kara. I only agreed with the cute & funny part,” Lena says, distracted.

“Lena.” Kara's mouth opens and closes, eyes blinking fast. “Wow, you don’t let a girl down easy. Sad girl down!”

“Well, get back up,” Lena quips. She strokes Kara’s knee, touch tender.

“I—what—?” Kara stammers, with wild eyes. Falling backwards on the couch, she stares at the ceiling. “I can’t believe you—is this how you usually respond when someone asks you out? So this is what rejection feels like.”

“Trust me, you’ll feel better after eating a plate full of potstickers.”

“Maybe.” Kara bites her bottom lip. Frowning, she sits back up and pokes Lena’s thigh. “But can I ask why not? I have abs, Lena.”

Lena wheezes. A few seconds later, Kara also shakes in silent laughter as well.

“Look,” Kara says, touches her glasses and licks her lips. She’s trying to keep a straight face on. “I’ll play with your hair everyday and give you lots of face kisses if you date me.”

“Well…” Setting the tablet down, Lena pretends to think about it.

Then, the balcony door opens and Alex shows up again, walking in. 

Lena shoots Alex a please help me look, but Alex pretends she doesn’t see it as she refills her glass of water. After that, she dashes out of the room so quickly she becomes a blur of red hair and black clothes.

Damn her.

Kara sees Lena’s face and pouts, taking her arms back. Lena whimpers, because the heaters aren’t on and it’s cold right now and Kara’s hands on her waist were keeping her warm, goddamnit.

Lena tries, and fails, to pull Kara’s arms back around her.

“Kara. Those arms, put them back where they came from—”

Kara does as told, and indulges her. “I have decided that this is the last time I’m going to cuddle you. I only cuddle people I date.”

“Lies.”

“It’s true.”

Lena breaks into a smile—or rather a smirk, really. “It’s not. Don’t threaten to deprive me of your warm hugs and cuddles.”

“Oh, Lena.” Kara sighs. “You see, I would pay so much more attention to you if you dated me. Your best friend who has abs. So, maybe date me?”

Lena considers it for a second, then wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think so.”

“Wha—” Kara stutters, offended. “I'll have you know I'm an excellent girlfriend. I'll bring you flowers and chocolate and give you nose kisses. You’re the perfect height to receive nose kisses from me.”

Lena only stares at her, the corners of her mouth twitching into something like a smile.

Then, someone laughs—loud.

They both look up to see Alex on the balcony with a ridiculous goofy smile on her face, phone next to her ear.

“Look at Alex. I want that. Did you know that Alex’s girlfriend takes her on a date every week, each Saturday, and has a special routine? Kelly gives Alex’s face ten kisses every night, all over her face. It’s relationship goals.”

Lena cracks a smile. “Gay.”

Kara nods solemnly. “Gay.”

“Women, huh, Kara.” Lena arches an eyebrow at her.

“Hush, Lena. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

Lena tilts her head, smiling amusedly. “Kara, you’ve been ‘coming to terms with it’ since… well, since you met me. I think you have it figured out by now.”

Kara shrugs. “I mean… I still don’t know for sure, Lena. See, I’ve never dated a woman before—”

“—What on earth are you talking about, you dated Lucy before she left National City—”

“—How do I truly know if I like women if I have never felt the warmth of a woman’s touch? I’ve walked my whole life confused, lost and scared, hidden from showing my true self to anyone—”

“—Kara, Eliza said “I know” when you came out to her—”

Kara sighs deeply, eyes wide. “How do I just know when I don’t even know how to hold a woman’s hand?”

Lena takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “And I thought I was the dramatic one. Darling, you astound me.”

Kara sighs, sad and dejected. “Lena, what was that quote about tiddies?”

“The what now?”

“From Sappho’s. I think it was something like ‘may you sleep on the breast of your delicate friend’? Yeah, it’s that. Oh to sleep on the breast of my delicate friend.” Kara cries. “That’s what I want, too.”

Lena falls down on Kara’s chest, laughter bubbling inside her chest and trying to squirm away. Kara doesn't let her, instead she just cackles along with her. Lena bites Kara on the neck, who doesn't even flinch, which, what the fuck—instead just shifts Lena back to sitting up and then dramatically sprawls out on her back even more.

“Date me, Lena,” Kara says. “Date me, date me, date me—”

“Kara.” Lena sighs, squeezing Kara’s hand. “I am not going to date you. You would spend more time at the gym than you would with me.” She pokes her abs.

“Oh, no.” Kara sniffs. “But you like and enjoy how strong I am. Don't think I don't notice how flustered you get when I pick you up or hold you in my arms.”

Lena looks faintly pink. “That's none of your business,” she says calmly. “I like muscles, you're not special.” Kara only just now notices Lena’s wrinkled sweater from the earlier actions, and starts smoothing them.

“You look nice. You look really good in my clothes.”

Lena sits still as Kara fixes her up, keeping a poker face even when Kara tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I look good in everything.”

“But my clothes are simply the best.” Then, Kara gasps. “Yet another reason you should date me.”

Lena sighs, shifting her weight around in Kara’s lap. It’s quiet for a bit, eyes on each other as they listen to Alex talking outside.

Kara takes the opportunity to cup Lena’s face. When Lena doesn’t move, just stays still in Kara’s lap, Kara gives Lena a kiss on the cheek.

Lena pulls back.

“Kara! What was that.” Lena raises an eyebrow, incredulous. Her hands slip under Kara’s shirt, palm on her abs.

“I'm trying to seduce you,” Kara says, trying to keep a straight face, and stops Lena’s wandering hands underneath her shirt.

“It isn't working.”

“Darn.”

Lena nods. “You need to work on your skill.”

“Yes, well… that's not exactly what the last person I had sex with said.”

Lena frowns. “Wait, what? When did you have sex with someone?”

“Hmm. Just yesterday, some woman from a friend’s birthday party. She was lovely. Pretty, too. Why, you jealous?”

Lena scoffs. “No,” she says. Kara pokes her cheek.

“Aw, jealous baby,” Kara coos. “How can you be jealous when you’re not even dating me?”

“I’m not jealous,” Lena insists. “I know what you taste like. I know how you are, and I’m very sure I’m not missing out on much.”

“Oh, really now.” Kara breathes a laugh. “I made you cry the last time we hooked up! You were begging so much—Kara, Kara, please! Kara please, want you to touch me, fuck me now, don’t stop, please, please—”

Lena lets out a strangled noise and quickly quiets Kara, squishing her palm against Kara’s mouth. After a moment, when Kara shows no sign of talking anymore, Lena hesitantly takes her hand off Kara’s mouth.

“So, it’s really a big no on dating me, huh.”

Lena pauses, biting her lip.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Amazing,” Kara whispers. “Lena, are we still pretending it wasn't you that I danced & flirted with at Kelly’s birthday party? I even guided you all the way back to your bed. It's been one whole day since you've last gotten—well, um. You know. Are you okay? How are you surviving?”

“I’m thriving.” Lena breathes out. “I’m living my best life. Been doing some soul searching, too. Finding myself.”

Kara wheezes.

“If you really want to date me,” Lena says, seriously, “you would make me some tea and let me do my work peacefully.”

Kara turns incredulous. “But Lena, I can't move.” She cries. “You’re in my lap, snuggled toasty warm against me and feeling me up. You get up!”

Lena slumps down until Kara’s back hits the couch and Lena’s lying completely on Kara. Kara immediately hugs her with her toned arms. 

“No,” Lena says. “I’m cold, warm me up.”

“Ice block human,” Kara whispers. “Date me.”

“No,” Lena says, groaning right into Kara’s ear. She tucks her face into Kara’s neck, her lips touching the skin there. “No, for the last time. I will not date you, Kara Danvers.”

“Golly—that’s not even my full name. How many times can you break a woman's heart today? Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker.”

Lena only makes a muffled sound against her neck.

“No more straps. I’m never giving you some ever again,” Kara decides.

“But I like it when you use the strap. Why not?”

Kara scoffs. “I meant the sour straps. Lollies—my snacks in the cupboards. But since you brought that up, I mean that, too.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Lena pulls herself away, now sitting on Kara’s thighs.

“Dead serious. I’m cute, funny, and I have abs. And as you already know, my strap game is rather incredible. Ask yourself if you deserve the hot package.”

Lena sighs, looking like she’s really considering it. “Kara.”

“I’m a hot item.”

“Come on now, Kara…”

Kara sighs and turns her head to the side, dramatically.

Lena shakes her head. “This doesn’t need to be complicated.”

Kara frowns. “Oh, I see it now. All this time, the only reason why you like me is because of my strap game. I should have known.”

“Oh my god.”

Kara fake sniffs. “No matter, Lena. You’re my favourite person. I still love you, even knowing this.”

Lena mock slaps her on the shoulder, turning it into a gentle hand when it moves up on Kara’s cheek.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? And pretty, too,” Lena murmurs. Kara takes Lena’s hand off her cheek and presses a kiss to the palm, eyes never leaving Lena’s. Lena’s cheeks darken with colour.

“You’re prettier.”

Lena swallows. “Kara, I—”

“I can’t take this any longer.” Alex opens the door loudly and stomps her way inside. “Can you two stop fucking flirting for one goddamn minute?”

“Alex, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Lena states, blinking. “Kara, darling, could you please remove your hand from my boob?”

Kara gives Lena’s boob a soft squeeze, her other hand cupping bare skin from where she's slipped her hand underneath Lena's sweater.

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay, then.”

“Oh my god,” Alex says, covering her face with her hands. “I want to go home. I need to go—now. I got what I wanted a while ago.”

“Love you, Alex. You are more than welcome to,” Kara tells her. “You’ve been here in Lena’s penthouse long enough.”

“What—you talk as if you haven’t been here all day, too.” Lena frowns.

“It’s the weekend—no work, no other stuff. What’s wrong with spending my free time with my best friend?” Kara says, cupping Lena’s face lovingly.

Lena smiles. “You’re sweet.”

Alex stares at them, horrified. “Wow, it’s like… it’s like listening to highschoolers on a first date!”

“Um, but we aren't dating, Alex,” Kara reminds her sister gently.

“No, no, you're right, Kara. You aren't dating,” Alex agrees, and takes a deep, deep breath. “You're fucking married,” she hisses, wild-eyed. “I was the goddamn maid of honour at your wedding. You live here and you co-parent a cat with Lena. You've been married for like, three years now. Which makes your strange, awful flirting so much worse, Kara Danvers-Luthor!"

Kara and Lena only look at each other, snickering.

———

(not-so?) SURPRISE THEY’RE MARRIED

[fanmoose12]

to know your enemy

Hange glanced at him briefly – Levi stood with his hands behind his back, his head raised up high. Their eyes met – just for a second – but it was enough to calm her nerves.

Captain Levi was not an ally, most certainly not her friend, but amidst all foes, he was the only thing that gave her comfort.

A citizen and a loyal soldier of a country that wanted her dead, Captain Levi was the sole source of light in her life during these dark times.

Or, a Marleyan!Levi au

The cell they’ve put her in was cold. The wall she was chained up to was damp. A pool of something sticky and putrid beneath her legs was making her nauseous. It had a characteristic metallic smell that after years of being a soldier Hange knew all too well. She hoped, at least, that the blood wasn’t hers.

A single torch, hanging on the wall outside, behind the metal bars, was the only thing illuminating the cell. It was dark inside, but not dark enough for Hange not to distinguish a figure, looming over her.

She recognized him right away.

“Commander Hange,” Floch curled his lips in a cruel, bloodthirsty smile. “It’s so good to see you here.”

“Ah, the pleasure is all mine!” Hange replied, looking so cheerful and relaxed, as though she was sitting behind the desk in her office back at home, not chained and locked up in the darkest, deepest cell of Marleyan prison. “You know, I always wanted to visit the country I’ve been fighting against for so long. And you provided me with a perfect opportunity to take a much needed vacation!”

“My god,” the smile slipped from his lips. Floch’s expression changed to that of a complete distain. “You really are insufferable. It isn’t a surprise that Eldians are losing in this war, if you’re their Commander.”

“My soldiers don’t really complain. Much,” she grinned, showing her bloody teeth. Despite her high status back in Paradise, her Marleyan captors weren’t gentle or cautious with her. She gave them all the reason for that kind of treatment. “But I guess you know it already. Not that long ago, you were one of my soldiers too."

Floch seethed. "And as a Commander, you’ve disappointed me."

"Aw, you poor thing," Hange cooed, angering Floch even further. “I’ve disappointed you? That’s why you’ve decided to betray your country and your comrades? That’s why, while fleeing, you’ve killed several of my men?”

“I did not betray you, I merely switched sides. Unlike you, I prefer to stick to the winning team.”

“Or you’re just a scumbag with no sense of loyalty.”

“Shut up!” Floch surged forward, grabbing Hange by the collar. “You, Commander, who is dooming your own people with reckless decisions, what do you know about loyalty?”

“Apparently she knows more than you do,” spoke a cold, indifferent voice.

It had an immediate effect on Floch. His face palled and his lower lip began to tremble. He bit it to hide his unease from Hange’s sharp eyes.  

He didn’t release his hold on her collar, though, and continued to glare stubbornly at her.

“Floch,” the man stepped out of shadows. Hange swallowed as she watched him. He was short, but his face was menacing enough to more than make up for it. “Are you that slow? Do I really need to spell it out? Let Eldian Commander go.”

“But—”

“No buts,” the man growled. He grabbed the back of Floch’s shirt, yanking him back hard. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, so get the fuck out.”

It was obvious – Floch wanted to argue, but one look from his superior officer and he surrendered, taking a step back from Hange and letting her go. He gave her one last look, filled with hatred, and then left.

Like a dog with its tail between its legs, Hange thought with no small amount of amusement.

After Floch’s departure, she was left alone with the unexpected savior. Hange stared at him, warily, waiting for his next move.

He stepped closer to her, and her eyes widened in surprise, when he raised his hand to unlock her shackles.

“Um,” Hange scrunched her face in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You aren’t supposed to be here either,” the man explained with a roll of his eyes. “It was another one of Floch’s stupid stunts. This level of dungeon is made to hold rapists and murderers.”

A sparkle of curiosity ignited in the deepness of her honey brown eyes. Hange tilted her head, staring at the man beside her. “I’m sure most of your people would argue that I’m both.”

“I’m not most,” he scoffed. “And your crimes are not bigger than any of our soldiers.”

“Huh,” the last of her shackles fell down and Hange absentmindedly rubbed her freed wrists. “And here I thought that all Marleyans are pricks with a superiority complex. You proved me wrong,” she paused, not able to fight off a smile. “Captain Levi Ackerman.”

“So my reputation precedes me,” he sighed with a disgruntled expression. “Follow me,” he added, leading her out of the cell and down the dark, empty hallway. “And here,” he thrusted something in her hands. With a sense of bewilderment, Hange realized it was a handkerchief. “Wipe the blood off your face.”

“Oh,” Hange awkwardly chuckled. She could have used her own sleeve, but… it was kinda nice of him to offer. “Thanks. And about your reputation, yeah, you’re quite famous back at the island,” she easily fell into step with him. “Although, I admit it was hard to recognize you with all these scars.”

“That’s a courtesy of your soldiers and your deadly inventions, Commander.”

“You’re off from active duty, I take it? My men have a chance at winning this war then.”

“Had to step down from my position,” Captain said grimly. “My mother worried too much.”

“And they say Marleyans aren’t funny,” Hange opened her mouth, the cheerful laughter ready to bubble out of her throat, but then she stopped, gawking at the Captain. “Wait…” she asked cautiously. “You aren’t joking?”

“Marleyans aren’t funny,” he retorted in dead-pan voice.

This time, Hange did laugh.

“Here,” Captain led her into another cell. This one - sufficiently illuminated and with more than enough space to contain not only essentials, but a desk, a chair and even a bookshelf – was drastically different from the last.

“Wow,” Hange whistled. “This cell is almost as good as my office. Are Marleyans that welcoming to all of their prisoners?”

“Doubt you’d be feeling much at home here,” Captain Levi huffed. “Zeke is very eager to chat with you.”

“The infamous Zeke Yeager wants to talk with me? I’m impressed.”

"Just wait until he starts bragging about his royal heritage and other shit. You won't be that impressed after that."

"Well," with a grin, Hange plopped down on a bed that stood in the corner of the cell. Something was very, very wrong with her, but the company of Captain Levi was... actually enjoyable. "Will you be there to witness it?"

"A chance to see Zeke embarrass himself in front of an enemy war chief?" something that almost resembled a smile appeared on Captain's indifferent face. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, four-eyes."

***

“I’ve heard what Floch had done,” Zeke lowered his eyes and shook his head. Hange had to give it to him – he looked almost genuinely sincere. “He wasn’t acting on my orders, please believe me.”

“I know more than anyone how hard it is to rein in Floch. I took no offense, don’t fret.” Hange lifted a cup of tea Zeke brought her and looked at it skeptically. Then with the same expression of doubt, she turned her gaze back to him. “It’s safe to drink this, right?”

“Can I call you Hange?” Zeke asked. “I feel like we’re so alike, there is no need for titles.”

“Sure,” Hange shrugged. “Call me whatever you like.”

Zeke nodded, a pleased smile breaking on his face. “I would never scoop so low as to poison you, Hange,” he answered. “Meeting you is a great honor. I hope you enjoy this time as much as I do.”

Hange raised her gaze, looking over Zeke’s shoulder and exchanged a look with Captain Levi. He was wearing an irritated expression, and when their eyes met, he lifted an eyebrow, as though to tell Hange ‘I told you so’.

She hid a smile behind her cup.

“So what do you want to know?” she focused her attention back at Zeke. “The number of our troops? The location of strategic sights? How many times a day I take a shit?”

There was a sudden coughing sound, and as Hange looked up, she saw that Captain Levi turned around, his shoulders shaking slightly.

“I don’t think you understand the severity of your situation,” a smile slipped from Zeke’s lips. He obviously wasn’t as amused by her witty comeback as his Captain. “I may be kind and polite to you, but you’re still my prisoner.”

“And I don’t think you understand that I don’t give a fuck about that. Do whatever you like, Zeke. I won’t tell you anything.”

Zeke narrowed his eyes, glaring at her. “Enjoy your stay in Marley.” He declared between gritted teeth. “I’ll be seeing you again very soon.”

He rose to his feet, almost knocking a chair to the ground. Hange took a sip from her cup, watching how Zeke stormed out from her cell.

“Don’t take your eyes off her,” he instructed Levi. He muttered something else, something that sounded almost like a curse and then left.

“Wow.” Levi breathed out, when the sound of Zeke’s heavy footsteps disappeared. “I have to admit, you’re something else, four-eyes. I spent years, getting on his nerves, but five minutes with you? And he already calls ‘a fucking Eldian scum’? You’re force to be reckoned with.”

“And that was just our first meeting,” laying chin on her hand, Hange sighed dreamily. “What a nice guy. Can’t wait to see more of him.”

***

“Why are you here?”                                            

Levi was leaning against the wall opposite from the cell Hange was contained to. As soon as the question left his lips, Hange looked up, closing the book she was reading.

An amused grin spread on her lips. “I’m sort of a prisoner here, didn’t you know?”

“I didn’t mean that,” Levi rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer. “How did you get here? How did you get captured?”

Hange frowned, scratching her head. “Haven’t you read the report?”

Levi did, more times that he could count. He read it again and again, trying to piece together the reasons for Hange’s behavior. Trying to understand why did she act the way she did.

“Ship Wings of Freedom was spotted near Marleyan borders.” Levi effortlessly recited the beginning of report. “According to the statement from Eldian Commander Hange Zoe, they were trying to launch a surprise attack at Odiha port. The ship was ambushed before Eldians could charge an assault. The only person, who was discovered at the ship’s board and, subsequently captured, is Hange Zoe, war chief and main engineer of Paradise Island.”

“So you did read it, huh?”

“Obviously, you couldn’t be the only person on that ship.” Levi contemplated aloud. “And that means you let your soldiers escape. Why did you stay behind?”

“Someone had to create a diversion,” Hange explained so easily, as though it was a simple, trite matter and not something Levi was obsessing over ever since she was placed under his care.

“Anybody could have done it,” Levi moved closer, touching the metal bars of the cell with his chest. His cold grey eyes bored into Hange. Perhaps, if he looked hard enough, he’d be able to see it. He’d be able to understand her. “Certainly, there were other less valuable soldiers than you.”

“Exactly. I was the most valuable one. And that meant your men would think twice before killing me.”

“You stayed behind… let us capture you, because… you wanted to save your squad?”

"Well, when you put it like that..." Hange giggled, a little embarrassed. "It sounds like I'm the worst Commander ever."

She couldn't have been further from the truth. In his life as a soldier, Levi had seen his fair share of Commanders. Some were awful, while some were much better. And, as far as he could judge, Hange was the best of them all. With just one act, she showed Levi what a real Commander must look like. Self-sacrificing, fearless and loyal not only to the country they’ve served, but to their soldiers as well.

If only things were different, Levi couldn't help but think, I would have happily followed you.

"Don't you regret it?" he asked. "Leaving your soldiers without your guidance?"

"They'll manage," Hange said without an ounce of incertitude in her voice.

"You're so confident in your subordinates?"

"They're the best of the best," a proud smile curled at her lips. Hange sat back in her chair, putting hands behind her head. "Just wait until they regroup. Mark my words, Captain. They’ll crush Marley in to time."

Marley had the biggest army in the world. They had the most advanced technology. They’ve conquered several countries. They were considered an indestructible, imperishable Empire.

And if there was anyone who could stand a chance against his motherland, Levi was sure - this fit could be achieved exclusively by the soldiers who were trained and tutored by Commander Hange Zoe.

"All this bragging about your squad," a smirk pulled on Levi's lips, amusement painting his usually stoic features. "Are you trying to recruit me, Commander Hange Zoe?"

"Why," Hange gave him a sly grin, raising her eyebrow. "Is it working?"

Levi snorted. "You have to do better than that to sway me, Commander."

"Ah, a shame," she giggled. "We could have used your skills, Captain."

"Need I remind you that you don't have an army right now?"

“It’s true, I don't. Right now. But who knows what is going to happen next?"

There was a small, but enigmatic smile on her lips, and fire inside her eyes burned brighter than the torch he was standing next to. Her expression made Levi realize that not all prejudices about Eldians were wrong. Hange proved that the old Marleyan saying - Eldians always have a trick up their sleeves – could actually be true.

It was obvious that she had some kind of a plan. And it was obvious that she was confident in its success. Rooting for her was wrong, some could even interpret it as treason.

And yet— a part of him hoped that she – and her people – would succeed.

***

Levi unlocked the door, stepping inside. The moment he crossed the threshold, a pair of gentle arms wrapped themselves around his neck.

"Levi," his mother pressed him tightly to her chest. "Welcome home."

"Sorry for being late," he whispered gruffly. He pressed his face into her neck, inhaling the familiar and dear scent of chamomile and lavender. "I had so much paperwork, I was practically swimming in it."

"My poor boy," Kuchel ruffled his hair and took a step back, releasing him from her embrace. "Take off your shoes and go wash your hands. I'll heat up dinner for you."

"Thanks," Levi said, shrugging off his formal coat and undoing his tie. As he stripped his uniform, breathing came a little easier.

"So?" Kuchel put a plate with broth in front of Levi and sat down next to him. "Is it true? Did they really capture Eldian Commander?"

"Yeah," Levi nodded, after he swallowed the first spoon of broth. "I've been assigned to watch over her."

Kuchel perked up. "And? Is she as terrible as they say?"

"No." Levi held the spoon a little tighter. He pursed his lips, staring in his plate with a faraway look. “She’s not terrible at all. Quite the contrary. I know that it’s wrong but… I think she’s a good person.”

"Eldian Commander?"

"Yes. Hange. She's my enemy, I know that. And I know that I must despise her, but... She's so good, mom. She's brave and she cares about her people, and... I can't help but think if this," he gave a vague gesture, "our lives - would have been better if people like Commander Hange were in charge. It makes me think… maybe, Kenny, that old bastard, was right."

"Honey..." Kuchel lovingly patted his cheek and exhaled, her beautiful grey eyes filling with sadness at the mention of her late brother. "During times like this, it’s hard to know what’s wrong and what’s right. Isn’t it wrong to kill people? Isn’t it wrong to hate an entire nation just because we don’t share the same name? They’re people just like us. Just like us, they can be good or bad. It's easier to hate them, to see them as monsters that need to be slayed. Doesn't mean that it's true. And if you see your enemy as someone worth of admiring, if you can forget about you differences and see just another person, isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t it something we should aspire to? You’re a kind and good man, Levi. And if there were more people like you… maybe, we wouldn’t be fighting this war at all.”

Silence fell over the small kitchen room. Levi thought about his mother’s words, he tried to imagine a world she was talking about. A better, kinder world with no hatred and prejudices. A world, where peace and happiness were more prevalent than war, starvation and poverty.

A world like this would have been nice. But sadly, it was nothing more than utopia.

“Well, that was enough philosophical monologues for one evening!" Kuchel chirped, jumping to her feet. "Quickly, eat the broth before it gets cold. I'll brew you a cup of tea in the meanwhile."

Levi complied, diving into his dinner. From the corner of his eyes, he continued watching his mother move around the kitchen. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching out to the higher shelf. As she did so, the sleeve of her dress rolled up, revealing an ugly, purple bruise around her wrist.

He was by her side in an instant.

"What is this?" he hissed, carefully lifting her arm. Kuchel looked at him, her eyed widening in alarm. "What is this?" Levi repeated, even though he already knew the answer.

"Honey-"

"Did that bastard do it?" he let go of her hand. His anger was growing and he didn't want his mother to become an accidental victim of it. He turned around and started to pace around the room. "I'll go to him." He declared, his whole body shaking with rage. He spoke quietly, but every word was filled with cold, merciless fury. "I'll kill that scumbag with my bare hands, I'll make him regret ever touching you."

"Levi!" Kuchel rushed to him, cradling his face in her palms. "Levi, calm down. This was just an accident. He apologized and it would never happen again, I swear."

In the arms of his mother, Levi's fury had lessened. He stared at her, as another feeling took its place instead of anger. The feeling of helplessness and despair.

"You can't continue seeing this bastard,” he said, almost pleading. “He hurts you, and I can't watch it happen."

"My boy," Kuchel kissed his forehead. "My Levi, we don’t really have a choice, remember? But, please, don’t worry about me, I’m doing alright. As long as you're with me, everything is going to be just fine."

"That was the last time," Levi promised, the fire returning to his gaze. "It was the last time he hurt you. General or not, if he ever does it again, I'll kill him. I'll kill him even if that would be the last thing I do. I won't let anyone make you suffer."

“Levi…” Kuchel sighed, quietly and warily. She lowered her hands and turned away, hiding the pain inside her eyes from Levi. He watched her back, his chest tightening. In that moment, his mother looked so small, so fragile. Levi despised the man who made her feel this way and his uncle, who put them into this mess. He despised their world for making her suffer so much.

And more than anything, he despised himself for not being able to protect her.

***

Hange's next meeting with Zeke was vastly different from the first. Instead of a small, suffocating cell, it was conducted in a large, spacious room with big windows and high ceilings.

And as Levi had led her inside, she was astonished to see that Zeke wasn't alone. The other generals - probably the entire main body of Marleyan brass - were waiting for her arrival.

All these attention to the little, insignificant her? And they say Marleyans aren't charming...

“Gentleman!” she greeted with a blindingly bright smile on her lips. There was a chair in the middle of the room, and she plopped down on it, still wearing the same happy expression. “Good day to all of you!”

Levi took his place just behind her shoulder. Hange glanced at him briefly – he stood with his hands behind his back, his head raised up high. Their eyes met – just for a second – but it was enough to calm her nerves.

Captain Levi was not an ally, most certainly not her friend, but amidst all foes, he was the only thing that gave her comfort.

A citizen and a loyal soldier of a country that wanted her dead, Captain Levi was the sole source of light in her life during these dark times.

“So?” Hange put hands on her knees, her gaze studying each member of Marleyan brass carefully. “What did you call me here for?”

“I’m sure you already know,” Zeke, who sat at the center of the table, took the word. He seemed more controlled than during their last meeting, and a confident smile has returned to his lips. “We haven’t finished our earlier conversation.”

Hange arched an eyebrow. “Still interested in my shitting techniques?”

“No.” Zeke answered grimly. A few surprised chuckles came from his colleagues around the table, and Hange could almost hear the sound of his teeth gritting against each other in frustration. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“We are more interested in other aspects of your job,” a man that sat next to Zeke spoke. “My name is Winston Greeves, it’s nice to meet you, Commander. Now,” he leaned closer, prepping his chin with his hand. “Is there something you wish to tell us? Something related to the state of your troops, perhaps?”

Hange lifted her head and tapped her lower lip with a finger. “Is there something that I wish to tell you…” she murmured pensively. “I guess I can tell you how much I’ve been enjoying your country and your hospitality...”

“Again, that’s not exactly what we want to hear ,” Greeves said, and the easy smile that was plastered on his face just moments ago became a little too tight around the edges.

“I would stop this farce, if I were you,” Zeke spoke again, his voice low and almost growl-like. “Unlike your barbaric, primitive island, Marley is a civilized nation, but that doesn’t mean we’re above using techniques that would undoubtedly untie your tongue.”

“Was that supposed to frighten me?” Hange asked with a bored, unimpressed look. She took off her glasses, wiping them with the sleeve of her shirt and looking at Zeke beneath her eyebrows. “Do better next time, Zeke. You think that threats would work on me? You think that promise of pain would make me submit? You think that there is anything you can do to me that will make me betray my own country? I surrendered willingly to you, idiots, I knew exactly what was going to happen to me. And I knew that I wouldn’t be getting out of it alive.”

“You’re right,” Zeke nodded. “You won’t survive. You will die, Hange Zoe. You will die regretting your loyalty and devotion. You will die, but not before you spill out to me every last one of your secrets.”

“Till our next meeting,” he promised darkly, gesturing Levi to take her away.

***

"Zeke's nice guy persona is slipping," Hange muttered, as Levi led her back to her cell. "I wonder what this sudden urgency is all about..."

Levi pursed his lips, thinking. He probably shouldn't say this to Hange. It was classified information, known only to the highest members of brass. If anyone finds out that he revealed it to Hange, without a doubt, he'd join her in that cell. And that's in the best case scenario.

On the other hand, there was no one Hange would pass this information onto. Telling it to her would have no consequences whatsoever.

Levi had decided. He turned to face Hange, but before his mouth could start forming words, a familiar smell entered his nostrils.

Chamomile and lavender.

He whirled around. General Greeves himself was standing behind him.

"Ackerman," he spat, barely looking at him. "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait?" Levi didn't bother to hide irritation from his voice. "I have to take care of the prisoner."

"The Eldian can wait." Greeves scoffed. "It's not like she can escape. Leave her and follow me."

Levi glanced back at Hange. She was looking right at him, her head tilted to the side, watching the exchange intently. There was a curious spark in her eyes and something else, something that looked almost like... concern? Whatever it was, Levi had no time to decipher that.

"I'll be right back," he told her curtly and followed after Greeves.

***

"Is your mother free this evening?" Greeves bluntly asked the second they were out of Hange's earshot.

"She is not," Levi said lowly. He looked at Greeves and all he could see was the frail pale wrist of his mother that was painted in mix of purple and dark yellow. It took all of his willpower and then more not to latch onto Greeves' neck and kill the bastard with his own hands.

"Then make sure she is." Greeves snapped. "And wipe that scowl from your face, boy. Or do you need reminding just how much I’ve done for you?"

Levi said nothing, just glared at Greeves from beneath his fridge.

Greeves looked around, the hallway was empty save for Hange, but he cared not for her. He grabbed Levi by the collar of his uniform, his hold strong enough to lift him off the floor.

"You have the gall, Ackerman," he hissed right into his face. "You, who got from me an apartment in the center of a capital and a fancy title of a Captain. Do you think I won't take it away from you? Do you think your mother is that good that I won't throw you out on a street? Or I can do much, much worse," a malicious smile spread on his lips, as he stared down at Levi as though he was nothing. "I can reveal a little secret. I can tell everyone that the dreaded Kenny the Ripper was actually an uncle of the brave and great Captain Levi Ackerman. Do you want me to do that, hm? Do you want the whole world to know that you were raised by a traitor? Do you want to repeat his fate alongside your dear mother? Believe me, getting lynched on the street is not the best way to go. So stop with attitude and be a good boy, understand?" Levi kept his silence and, furious, Greeves violently shook him. "I asked - do you understand?"

Levi thought of saying no. He thought of throwing the bastard's hands off him and punching him in the face. He thought of taking his gun out, of shooting him right in the center of that ugly, narrow forehead of his and watching life leave his eyes. His hand twitched.

But then he thought of his mother, of what they would do to her if he decides to succumb to his rage, of how many bruises would appear on her body after that.

He met Greeves's eyes and nodded.

"Use your words, brat."

Fury spiked inside him again, threatening to bubble out of his chest, his muscles, his bones and unleash itself onto his enemy.

He closed his eyes for a second, and the face of his mother appeared behind his eyelids. He saw her beautiful eyes, her tired but gentle smile.

"Yes." He said, his voice loud and clear. "I understand."

"Atta boy," Greeves smiled and roughly pushed him away, making Levi stumble. "Tell your mother my shift ends at seven. And I hope it goes without saying that you better not show your face while I'm there. Dismissed, Captain."

Greeves left after that, humming under his breath. It took Levi a couple of minutes to calm down. He stood frozen in place, breathing heavily as though he had just finished a marathon. He was so angry, his vision clouded. He saw nothing but blood. He wished for nothing but violence.

A careful, warm hand on his shoulder broke him out of his trance. He whirled around and was met face to face with none other than Commander Hange Zoe.

"Are you alright?" she murmured softly. The concern in her eyes was more prominent now. He stared at her for a second, wondering what was wrong with her. How much kindness was stored in her heart if she had enough to spare even for her enemy.

Well, he thought bitterly, it was her kindness that had led her there, to Marleyan prison and straight into Zeke’s arms.

In their world, it was best not to care at all. If only he knew how to do that, he lamented as the disquieted expression on Hange's face insistently tugged at his heart.

"Worry about yourself, four-eyes," he tore his eyes away from, putting on the familiar mask of cold asshole and trying to convince himself that that's what he really was. "Let's go, your cell awaits you."

***

When he came home that night, two hours after midnight his mother was already asleep. Or, at the very least, she appeared to be. The door to her room was closed and the house was dark. He approached it nevertheless, his hand touching the wooden surface. He almost knocked, but stopped himself before his hand curled into fist. He ached to know if she was alright, but he already knew that she wasn't, and going inside would only make all of it worse.

The world they live is cruel, he reminded himself, as he turned away and headed to his room. He tore off his uniform, kicking it in the corner.

He lay in his bed, fighting back tears. Fury and sorrow mixed in his mind, as he thought what his mother had to endure today, as he remembered that there was nothing he could to cease her suffering.

Their world was cruel, he remembered, and the only thing they could do is try to survive.

***

Levi took the next day off.

He woke up with the first rays of sunshine and quietly made his way to the kitchen. He cooked breakfast for his mother and then went out to the market to buy her flowers and pastries. He returned back home and went to wake her up.

The smile she gave him at the sight of fresh flowers and warm meal was enough to make him forget about his troubling thoughts.

"Let's take a walk," he offered after the breakfast was over and he dealt with the dishes.

His mother put on one of her best dresses. She let her hair down, and, as she put her arm through Levi's, a small, but endlessly happy smile curved at her lips.

"Shall we?" he asked after he put on his hat.

Kuchel giggled, covering her mouth with a palm, a picture of elegance. She made a small curtsy and murmured. "After you, my dear." The stroll through the park was nice.

They walked around for a bit, and then, when Levi's injured leg started to ache in protest, they sat down on a bench, enjoying the warm weather in the shadow of a big tree.

Knowing his son's quiet nature, Kuchel took it upon herself to fill the silence. She spoke about birds and how prettily they were singing, gushed over children that were running around and waxed poetic about trees, flowers and how beautiful they looked in the spring.

She was just telling Levi how much she enjoyed the smell of cherries when they're in bloom, when he saw one cheery petal fell down. It landed on Kuchel, tangling in her luscious, black hair.

Levi reached out to take it out and realized - it was time. He had to speak with his mother, had to tell her everything that's been on his mind.

"Mom," he began, looking her in the eyes. "Listen—"

"Shh," Kuchel pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Levi, don't. I know what you want to say, and I'm asking you - don't. Our situation isn't the best, I can't deny it. But it's better than the fate your uncle has suffered. We're both still alive, we're still together. I can still be your mom, can welcome you home from work and take walks with you in the park. And that's more than enough for me. So," she pushed the hair away from his forehead and leaned in, leaving a kiss on his forehead. "Let's just enjoy this moment. Sometimes it's all we can do, my dear."

Something in the tone of her voice, the way she didn't look in his eyes evoked a feeling of dread inside him. It brought Levi unprompted desperation. He took his mother's hand in his and gripped it just a little tighter than usually.

Enjoy the moment, he repeated to himself, sometimes that's all we can do.

***

Levi returned to work the next day— and regretted ever leaving his post.

A couple of plates stood next to the Hange's cell, all of them untouched.

Hange herself wasn't in her usual spot, sitting behind the desk with a book in her hands. She was lying on the bed, facing the wall.

Levi swallowed and unlocked the door, stepping inside.

"Hey," he called softly, hoping that Hange just decided to take a nap and didn't hear him approach. She didn't respond. "Hey, it's me," he tried again, but received no answer once more.

His stomach fell as he thought about the reasons for her silence.

He hurried to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder. It was still warm. Levi let out a barely audible sigh of relief. Still warm meant still alive.

He shook her. "Get up, four-eyes."

"No," came her curt reply. Her voice was gruff, almost lifeless. Hearing it broke something in him.

Levi looked at Commander Hange, thinking what to do. Then he saw it - red seeping through the yellow of her shirt.

Zeke's methods in action, he thought grimly.

He turned around and marched out of the cell. With hurried steps, he went into infirmary and grabbed a med kit.

Commander Hange wasn't going to die. Not on his watch, at least.

"Get up," he ordered once he was back in her cell.

"No."

"Get up," he repeated, kicking the leg of the bed. "Right fucking now, four-eyes, those wounds of your need dressing."

A short laugh escaped from her lips. It was bitter and devoid of any mirth. "Why do you, of all people, worry about me?"

"I don't," Levi easily retorted. "But your people do. They want to get you back. It'd be a shame if their loyalty would result in nothing because you got too tired to continue fighting."

"Don't lecture me. What do you, Marleyan, know about my people?"

"More than you do, apparently."

That finally got her to face him.

The sight of Commander Hange almost made him choke. Her face was a mess, what was not bruised was covered in blood. Her nose looked broken and her right eye was swollen.

He felt bile rise to his throat as he continued to stare at the results of Zeke's desire to win this war.

"What do you mean?" Hange asked, her voice wary. Life slowly started to return to her eyes. “Do you know something?”

"Not much," Levi shrugged. "But there had been reports about suspicious activity on the south borders. They think your guys are getting ready to attack. That's why Zeke is so impatient to get information out of you."

Zeke was scared shitless. All of them were. Marley was an imperishable Empire who was involved in too many wars. They didn't have enough people to defend themselves in case of the attack on their land. With most of their soldiers fighting and conquering in countries far away, if Paradise attacks, they'll be practically defenseless.

"So quit moping," he told Hange. "Let me fix your wounds and then I'll bring you more food. Save your strength, four-eyes. Don't let your soldiers down."

"Has anyone ever told you you're quite rude, Captain?"

"More times that I could have count, Commander. Now, quickly, turn around and take off your shirt. We'll deal with the wounds here first."

"Bossy, aren't we?" Hange huffed, but complied and started to unbutton her shirt.

As she pushed the yellow cloth down, revealing her bare shoulders and back, Levi sighed in relief. The wounds there weren't as severe as he had expected.

Still, severe or not, the injuries had to be cleaned and dressed. Levi set out to work.

The touch of disinfectant to her bare skin made Hange hiss, but she didn't recoil. A soldier through and through, Levi noted with a growing sense of admiration.

"You weren't here yesterday," Hange spoke, her voice shaking slightly. "What were you doing?"

"Went to a park."

"Oh," Hange turned her face to the side, looking at him curiously. "Did you take Missus Ackerman with you?"

"Miss Ackerman," Levi corrected. "My mother."

“Interesting,” she hummed, biting her thumb. “So Marley’s strongest soldier is actually a momma’s boy?”

“Thinking of using it against me, Commander Hange?”

“You know what they say,” she shrugged, a smile pulling at her lips. It suited her a lot more than the pathetic expression from earlier. “All’s fair in war.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I’m effective.”

“And very annoying,” Levi scoffed, taking a step back. “Put on your shirt and turn around. I need to take care of the mess on your face now.”

“Why are you helping me?” Hange wondered, as Levi inspected her wounds, holding her chin in his hands.

“I’m not,” Levi answered, his gaze focused on the cut on her eyebrow. “I’m a loyal soldier of my country.”

“So by taking care of me…”

“I’m making sure that you live on. So you could reveal more information to us.”

The lie slipped easily from his lips. So easily that Levi almost began to think that it was the truth.

Commander Hange Zoe, however, wasn’t so effortlessly convinced.

“And yet you haven’t asked me a single question, Captain.”

“Levi,” he grunted, as he started to gently wipe the blood from her forehead.

“What?”

“Call me Levi.”

“Oh.” She looked down for a second, mumbling something under her breath. Her voice was too quiet, but Levi thought that she was mouthing his name. Then she raised her eyes and met his. A soft smile was playing on her lips. “Then you should call me Hange.”

“Nah,” he said, desperately trying to fight back a smile. “Four-eyes suits you much better.”

***

A week later the news came.

The base in Lago, where the main body of their navy was located, was destroyed. No survivors. No witnesses.

A banner of Wings of Freedom that was now fluttering in the wind at the top of the once great Lago base was enough of a clue, though.

The pride of Marley, the fear of dozens of their enemy nations, Lago base was thought to be indestructible. Just like Marley itself.

A week later the news came. The next day, Commander Hange Zoe lost an eye.

***

“Stop it with that face.”

“What face?” Levi tore his gaze away from the bloodied mess and a lifeless white that once had been a lively, rich brown color.

“That face. Stop looking so angry. Or I will start thinking that you care.”

Hange lifted a finger, and then— before Levi could react – slap her hand or push her away – she bopped his nose. He blinked and looked down. He didn’t know what face he was making right now, but it had Hange snickering.

“That’s better,” she declared.

“Idiot,” Levi scoffed and turned away, fumbling with the med kit he had brought. He was more than familiar with its contents by now, having regularly used it to treat her wounds, but he felt the need to keep himself busy, and, more importantly, keep himself facing away from Commander Hange. If she had noticed the flush on his face, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “Of course, I do care. Your wound is bleeding. It ruins the sheets, you know.”

“Ah,” Hange nodded. “That is a serious problem.”

“More than you know. I wash those sheets, if you didn’t know.”

“You do? The great Captain Levi washes the sheets of a mere Eldian prisoner?”

“No one else wishes to do it. And I can’t stand that reek.”

“Oh god,” her remaining eye lighted up, as though Levi has just said the most wonderful thing she had ever heard. “I can’t believe it, Captain Levi Ackerman, the fear of all Eldians,” she paused dramatically, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Is actually a clean freak.”

Levi arched an eyebrow, giving the most unimpressed look he could muster. “Has anyone told you’re very stupid?”

“Never,” she confessed proudly. “I’m actually considered one of the smartest people in Paradise.”

“Makes sense then, why you’re losing this war.”

“Ouch,” Hange winced. “That actually hurt.”

“Speaking of pain…” Levi took a cloth dapped in antiseptic into his hand and grabbed Hange by the chin. “Let me take a look at your eye.”

In his years as a soldier, Levi had seen his share of injuries. But he had never got used to it. The sight of broken bones and lacerated skin, of blood seeping through uniform and sinking in between trembling fingers, it was a sight he just couldn’t get accustomed to, no matter how hard he tried and no matter how many battles he had witnessed and survived.

The wound that he was now seeing on the face of Hange Zoe wasn’t an exception. Looking at the cut running through her eye, the eye that was always filled with so much life and emotion, he felt sadness sip deep into his heart.

“Not as handsome as I was before, eh?” Hange lowered her voice to a quiet murmur, and when he glanced down at her face, he saw that she was wearing a hesitant expression.

“Nonsense,” Levi shook his head, chasing away his troubling thoughts, and began to wipe the blood away from her face. “Who told you were handsome before?”

“You are even snarkier than usual today.” Hange noted, her only eye looking at him closely. “Is there a reason for it, I wonder?”

“Who did this?” Levi asked. “Zeke?”

The hold he had on her jaw tightened ever so slightly, as he fought to conceal his anger. Thankfully, Hange didn’t comment on it.

“No. This little monster I had created myself.”

“Floch,” Levi guessed instantly. Of course, how he could forget about that damned bastard. “Well, if it gives you any consolation, Zeke isn’t having the time of his life either.”

“Oh?”

“Lago base was attacked, and, subsequently, destroyed.”

“Oh…” Hange bit her lip, a cautious and almost worried expression on her face. “And the attackers…”

“Were never found. The only thing that was discovered is the banner of Wings of Freedom.”

“Huh,” a wide, excited grin spread on her lips. “A stealthy approach then. Definitely one of Armin’s ideas.”

Levi kept his silence, continuing to work on her wound.

“What,” Hange playfully kicked his leg. “You’re not going to ask who that Armin is? His full name? His rank?”

“I’ll leave the interrogation stuff to Zeke,” Levi pursed his lips, the disgust showing at his face at the thought of the bearded jerk. “My job is cleaning up his messes.”

“And looking after me,” Hange said with a soft look in her eye. “You’re such a good man, Levi. So kind to me…”

“It’s not kindness,” Levi scoffed, doing his best to remain nonchalant and hide his discomfort. “Just basic human decency.”

“You think I deserve it?”

You deserve it more than most, he wanted to say.

“Why wouldn’t you deserve it,” he answered instead. “You’re a human too, aren’t you?”

Hange chuckled, the sound quiet and bitter. “Most of your countrymen would disagree.”

“I told you already. I’m not the most.”

“But you’ve told me something else too,” Hange argued. She lifted her hand and traced the line from his cheek to his mouth. “These scars… you said they were caused by the weapon I created. Don’t you hate me for that?”

“No.” Levi echoed. “You’re not at fault here. The war is.”

Hange fell silent after that, lost in her thoughts. To an accompaniment of her shallow breathing and infrequent hisses, Levi finished tending to her injury. He cleaned the wound, did his best to stitch the cut skin together and then dressed it in a white gauze.

When he was tying the ends at the back of her head, Hange softly touched his arm.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For making survival just a bit easier for me.”

Levi looked into her eye, swept his gaze across all of her face and body, carving it to his memory, and nodded.

He turned around then and left her cell. As he walked through the empty, ill-lit hallways, he thought if Hange was able to understand, if she could see in his eyes that he was grateful to her for all the same reasons.

***

“Captain.”

Without asking for permission, without waiting for an invitation, Zeke waltzed inside Levi’s office, plopping down on the chair beside his desk.

“I came to talk with you,” he announced, that infuriating smile plastered to his lips. “Do you have a moment?”

“For you, Zeke?” Levi made sure to put as much sarcasm and distain in his voice as it was possible. “Always.”

“Excellent!” Zeke eagerly clasped his hands together. He either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care enough to respond to Levi’s taunting. “I wanted to discuss with you the infamous Commander Hange.”

His stomach fell as those words left Zeke’s mouth. Whatever he was going to say next, Levi was sure he wouldn’t like it. He didn’t let any of his anxiety show at his face, though, and so Levi nodded, prompting Zeke to continue.

“She’s a tough nut to crack, and as you’re well aware, we’re losing our precious time. We need to get at least something out of her, or the whole country is doomed.”

“And how is that my problem?” Levi lazily inquired. “Torturing people isn’t one of my responsibilities.”

“I’m not asking you to torture her, I doubt you can do that,” Zeke said it flippantly, like an after-thought. But his eyes stared at Levi intently, gauging his reaction. “But she trusts you. And I need you to exploit it.”

“Trusts me?” Levi scoffed, genuinely surprised by Zeke’s assertion. “We’re talking about Eldian Commander, do you think she’d be stupid enough to trust me?”

“You’re closer to her than any of us,” Zeke protested, serious, despite his ridiculous claims.

“So what?” Levi sat back in his chair, crossing hands on his chest and staring at Zeke with a deep frown on his face. “She lets me dress her wounds. That doesn’t mean she trusts me.”

“On the contrary. That’s exactly what it means. Do you think I’m such a barbarian, Levi?” Zeke asked, before Levi could continue protesting. “Do you think I have not offered to take care of her wounds? She laughed at me and then spat in my face.”

Despite his best efforts, Levi’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. If only he could see it… The expression Zeke made in that moment, it was probably the one of pure disgust and hatred. Levi had spent years trying to make Zeke look at him like that.

Truly, Commander Hange Zoe was something else.

“Talk with her, Levi,” Zeke ordered, his voice tainted with anger at the sight of Levi’s clear amusement. “Do your country a service. Or else I’m going to dig deeper into the reasons of why Commander Zoe trusts you so. You wouldn’t want to become second Kenny the Ripper, would you? Your mother wouldn’t be able to take it. So think of her, if the loyalty to your country isn’t enough to motivate you.”

Without waiting for Levi’s reply, Zeke stood up and headed to the door.

“I hope you’ll make the right choice,” he said at last, and then disappeared behind the door, leaving Levi alone.

***

Another week passed, and all the main forces of their army were brought in to the capital. The brass looked at the young, but worn-out faces, at the once strong bodies that were now claimed by exhaustion and traumas, and realized – they had no army.

Their unwinnable, perfect soldiers, the elite of elites, they were too few of them. A lot had died far away from their motherland, conquering countries at the other side of the world, while the others fell victims to stray bullets and bombshells which left them broken and unable to fight.

And the military of indestructible Empire realized – they were going to lose this war.

***

Levi came home that evening, and found his mother behind a weasel, painting a tree branch that was visible from their window.

“I’m home,” he announced for his mother was too occupied with her work to notice his arrival.

At the sound of his voice, she turned around, and the brilliant smile on her lips was enough to calm his raging heart.

“You picked up art again?” he asked, as he approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I felt a sudden feat of inspiration,” she said, her voice like a sweet melody. “Although, I’m afraid my skills got a bit rough…”

“It’s beautiful,” Levi assured. “Did you eat dinner already?”

“Oh no,” her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. “I forgot to make it.”

“I’ll cook something for us, don’t worry. I’ll call you when it’s ready, you can continue painting.”

“Such a sweet boy,” she shook her head, lifting a brush and dipping it in a green paint. “How are things at work?”

Their second base, this one much closer to the capital was destroyed.

The situation was as bad as it could possibly be. Eldian forces were making rapid progress, and no one knew what to do to stop the invasion. They didn't have enough men to defend themselves, and, to make matters worse, they were yet to actually see the Eldian soldiers. The devils from Paradise remained hidden, striking from the shadows.

Zeke had departed from the capital, going to the closest army base to train the new recruits. Most of the Marleyan brass followed after him - Greeves had left too, and Levi suspected that it was the reason for his mother's good mood. They claimed they wanted to overlook the trainings, but Levi knew better - in case of the attack on the capital, they were hoping to wait it out in the safety of base's bunkers.

Zeke had left, but he sent Levi letters every day, asking on his progress with Hange. And every day, Levi had to come up with another lie to explain to him the absence of results.

So no, things at work weren't going that good, but then Levi remembered a smile that bloomed on Hange's face as he told her about the accomplishments of her soldiers, and he said.

"The work? It's going fine."

***

In a desperate attempt to showcase their superiority, to prove to the whole world that they're still the same indestructible Marley, the government decided to throw a parade.

The soldiers were rehearsing for days at end, perfecting their matching technique.

The sound of their tramps boomed through the main courtyard and reverberated through the stone walls of the army headquarters, as military officials and army engineers ran around, preparing the best and most advanced weaponry to show everyone their might.

During a day like this Levi led Hange out of her cell.

She walked through the hallways with a spring in her step and her hands dangling from side to side. For a tortured prisoner, she looked far too cheerful.

"Are you leading me to the gallows?" she asked in a playful singing voice.

Levi swept his gaze across her form, something coming alive inside him at the sight of her looking so joyful. "Unfortunately, no."

"Hm.” Hange nodded, narrowing her eye. “And what about the handcuffs?" she raised her free wrists. "Where are they? Am I not supposed to be an important and dangerous prisoner?"

"Are you going to run away, four-eyes?" Levi looked at her, a spark of amusement lightening his bored expression.

"I could try," she challenged.

"You could," Levi agreed. "And you wouldn't take more than two steps before I catch you."

"I could take you by surprise..."

"And you're saying this to prepare me for that surprise?"

Hange's bravado disappeared without a trace. "Damn your perceptiveness..." she muttered with a slight pout.

"So where are you taking me?" she repeated her question.

"To the bathroom."

"Eh?" a look of confusion settled over her face. "Is this a new method of torture?"

"No. I'm just sick of your smell. You reek worse than a pig, four-eyes."

"Ah, your clean freaky tendencies,” she snickered. “Of course, how could I forget."

“Take your clothes off,” he instructed once they were inside a brightly lit room with a bathtub standing at the center of it.

“I see you already prepared the water…” she murmured, approaching the tub and dipping her fingers in it. “And it’s still warm!”

“Don’t waste any more time then. Get inside, four-eyes.”

“Wait,” Hange sat at the edge of the tub and eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going to stay in the room with me?”

“You’re an important and dangerous prisoner,” he used her words from before. “Can’t exactly leave you here all alone, can I?”

“Or you just can’t resist my sexy and curvy body…” she whispered with a smirk on her lips.

“Start cleaning yourself,” Levi hastily turned around, hiding his blush. “Or I’ll do it myself.”

“Oh, will you be rough?” her sultry, sulky voice was quiet, but enticing. Levi hated the fact that it made his heart beat faster. “Will you manhandle me? Make me submit to your commands?”

“For fuck’s sake!” he growled, his ears and cheeks burning. “Just shut up and take a damn bath!”

“You’re no fun…” he heard her mumble. A moment later, he heard another sound, the one that made him exhale in relief – a sound of splashing water that signaled that Hange finally got inside the bathtub.

Levi tuned out everything else after that and stared out of the window, watching the soldiers march – one foot, then another, left and right, left and right, each move precise and controlled.

“So they’re organizing a parade,” Hange said. “Marley really doesn’t care that Paradise can attack at any moment?”

“On the contrary,” Levi disagreed. “Your guys got army higher-ups terrified as ever.”

“So this parade…”

“Is meant to show the other countries that we’re still as strong as ever, and ensure our own people that we got everything under control.”

“Not bad,” Hange hummed. “When people in Paradise start to doubt the government, they just start throwing shit at us.”

Despite himself, Levi chuckled. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Depends on how much we fucked up.”

“Paradise sounds more and more like my kind of country…” he mused quietly.

“I told you already,” Hange said, and without even looking at her, Levi could see the proud smirk on her face. “We could use your skills.”

“Are you trying to recruit me again, Commander?”

“It depends – is it working?”

Yes, Levi wanted to say. In the end, he said nothing.

“Hey,” she called. “Help me wash my hair, please.”

Levi wordlessly complied. He stood behind her back, his gaze involuntarily darting to the myriad of scars on her shoulder blades. He wondered about the story behind them. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the outline of one blemish, the one that ran along her spine.

“I have a lot of time to think nowadays,” Hange began, snapping Levi out of his reverie. He pulled his hand away, as fast as he could. The warmth from her skin lingered at his fingertips, making him wish to savor it for as long as possible. Ignoring the pleasant feeling, he pushed her down, wetting her hair. Then, when Hange reemerged, he squeezed shampoo onto his hands and buried them into her brown locks, gently carding through her hair. “I know it’s a bit stupid, and I know you most probably will laugh at me, or call me crazy, but… I thought if things were different, if—”

“If I wasn’t me, and you weren’t you?” Levi prompted, his voice hollow. He thought about the same thing.

“Yes,” Hange gave a slight nod. “If we had met under different circumstances, could we become… friends?”

Friends. What a weird word, what a constellation of different, but equally warm feelings. Affection, trust and care… They meant nothing to him. In all the years he was living in this world, he never really had anyone who could fit that description. He had colleagues, had brothers in arms, had his family… but a friend? He wasn’t familiar with that concept.

But if he was, Hange Zoe would probably fit that description to a tee.

If only things were different…

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, ignoring her question as though it had never been asked. “It’s time to rinse your hair.”

“Thank you,” Hange said, when she was finished with a bath and put on the fresh clothes Levi had brought her. It was his own, the white shirt was too wide for Hange in the shoulders and a little short in the sleeve’s area. She should have noticed, she probably had. She didn’t comment on it. “The bath was nice.”

She lowered her head after that, refusing to meet his eyes.

Even so, Levi nodded. “Let’s get back then. Your wounds need redressing.”

Hange followed him without another word. As he led her back, one thought repeated itself over and over in his head.

If only things were different…

***

The parade was fast approaching. And with that, came a spread of a rumor amongst high ranking officers that the attack was going to happen during the festivities. It was based on nothing, a little less than a stupid superstition.

Still, the atmosphere at the capital was becoming tenser and tenser with each passing day.

Zeke had come back along with other members of military, disappointed in Levi and desperate to get at least something out of unyielding Commander, something they could use to protect themselves before it was too late.

The absence of time was working in Levi's favor. Zeke couldn't spare even a second on him, otherwise he'd surely investigate the suspicious lack of any results.

Levi too had his fair share of reasons for anxieties. He couldn't leave the capital, his absence would be noticed immediately and punished severally, but he wasn't so keen to escape. He was ready to stand with other soldiers and do his best to protect his homeland, but his mother... His mother was another matter completely. He couldn't leave her in the city, even if Hange's people weren't quite as cruel, a fallen building or one particularly bloodthirsty soldier could become a reason for his mother's demise.

He couldn't let it happen.

So in the middle of the night, three days before the parade, Levi paid a visit to an old acquaintance.

Uri Reiss, the biggest adversary against Marley's imperial tendencies, the leader of a once influential political party and the sole reason of Kenny's early and shameful loss of a life, was now in the hiding, living the last days of his glory in the slumps at the edge of the city.

When Levi came, he was sitting in front of a fire with his legs folded underneath him, surrounded by a group of people.

Levi briefly wondered if that were his new followers. Looks like the bastard had lost everything, except his charm, he thought bitterly.

Uri looked bad, old and weary, he was a far cry from the charismatic and sharp man his uncle had decided to follow all those years ago. He was wearing baggy, dirty clothes that were patched up too many times. The only part of his garb that still seemed clean, the only thing he obviously took great care of, was a hat he was wearing on his head.

Kenny's hat, Levi realized after a second of staring at it.

Even after all those ten years that passed since Kenny's death, Levi still remembered that hat.

Remembered how easy it was to find his uncle in the crowd of people because of it. Remembered the texture, the feeling of it in his hands from those rare moments, when Kenny put it on his head.

Of course, he left it to that bastard. Gave it away, easily just like his life.

The mere thought of Kenny evoked a sense of deep, forgotten rage in Levi. The mere sight of his friend, the damned Uri Reiss that condemned their whole family with his naive beliefs, was enough to make Levi fume with anger.

"Levi," Uri squinted, looking at him. "Is that really you? What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, the shadows from the fire that Uri and his friends were sitting around dancing across his face. "I came to collect my debt."

"Your debt?"

"Yes," he nodded. "You promised Kenny, I know you did, he told me so himself. In exchange for his life, you promised that in time of need, you'll help me and my mother."

"I hope you understand that my hands are quite tied, and I don't have the influence I once possessed," Uri tilted his head, his abnormally bright eyes studying Levi. Despite his old age, despite his current state, his eyes remained the same. The same wit and wisdom Kenny couldn't resist, they were still there. "So what do you want?"

"I'm not going to ask for much," Levi assured him. "I just need you to take my mother out of the city, as far away as you can manage."

"Ah, beautiful Kuchel," Uri shook his head, a wistful smile playing on his thin lips. "Kenny had a soft spot for her too. For both of you, you were the only thing he cared about..."

"And yet he gave his life for your cause," Levi growled, his hands squeezing into fists. “And left us to deal with consequences."

He always hated Uri, hated how much influence he had over Kenny. Hated how in the end, Kenny chose him, and not them, his family.

"Will you do this or not?"

"I—" Uri faltered for a second, something changing in the depth of his eyes. "Of course, I'll help you, Levi. In three days, I'll send one of my men to fetch Kuchel from your apartment. They'll bring her to a safe place, you have my word."

"Good," Levi turned around, unable to look at the bastard any longer.

"And you, Levi?" Uri called after him. "Don't you wish to leave too?"

"No," he answered, his gaze determined. "I'll stay here. Until the end."

***

Convincing his mother to leave proved to be a tougher challenge than Levi had expected. But in the end, after swearing to her that he would join her very soon, he was able to persuade her to start packing her things.

And that's how he spent the remaining three days - helping his mother and keeping Hange company. As though sensing the approach of her soldiers, she became much livelier. She talked about them a lot - gushing over her subordinates as if they were her own children.

Levi shared small bits about his life as well - briefly reminiscing about the time when Kenny was still alive, still with them and they were a small, but tight and loving family.

In moments like these, he couldn't get her words out of his head.

if we had met under different circumstances, could we become… friends?

In moments like these, he felt as though they already were.

***

Three days later, Levi was in a hurry.

He glanced at his pocket watch - it showed seven o'clock - and started running. He left his office and headed outside, passing dozens of people who were in the same state of haste as he was. The parade was starting in just an hour, civilians already started to gather at the main plaza, and everyone was busy with the last preparations. And Levi was in a rush to get home.

The pointer of his pocket watch showed that it was almost a quarter after seven and Levi squeezed himself in-between the large, tight crowd, desperate to get home.

If he was fast enough, she'd still be there. If he was fast enough, he could say a proper goodbye to his mother.

Panting and heaving, he all but tumbled into his apartment. Instantly— the smell of chamomile and lavender tickled his nostrils.

Levi relaxed, she was still here. He kicked off his shoes and walked inside.

He headed to the kitchen and froze a few steps short from it. With heart in his throat, his eyes slowly traced the trail of blood on the floor.

His mother— she wasn't there. Not anymore.

"That's what whores get for trying to escape."

Levi's head snapped to the sound of voice, that voice.

Greeves had walked out of the bathroom, the still bloodied knife in his hands.

Levi was at him in an instant.

He didn't think, he didn't feel as he had wretched the knife out of his hands and threw it away.  

He glanced back, at the body of his mother. He saw the steely look in her eyes, a mask of suffering etched forever on her beautiful face.

He turned back to Greeves, and he hit.

His first blow broke his nose. Greeves hollered, and somewhere outside, a distance away from the little apartment in the center of the city, the fireworks started. Or, maybe, the defining explosion wasn't caused by fireworks, as the screams that followed were terrified, not excited, but Levi did not care enough to pay attention to it.

He hit Greeves again and again, and then again. His knuckles started to ache, but he didn't stop. Greeves fell to the ground and he didn't stop, just paused long enough to get on top of him. He stroke blow after blow, hit his face again and again, until there was nothing left.

Only then, he had stopped. 

With his legs shaking and hands trembling, he stood up and approached the prone body of his mother.

He picked her up - as gently as he could with the hands that were made for war, with the hands that were covered in blood of her murderer - and brought her to her room, placing her on the bed.

He fixed her hair, wiped the blood from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead, mimicking a gesture he had received from her so often.

Now that the fog that had taken over his mind was gone, Levi was more aware of his surroundings. Now he was able to understand what was going on outside.

It wasn't the sound of fireworks, those weren't the scream of triumph.

As a loyal soldier of Marleyan Empire, he knew all too well the sound of a thunder spear explosion.

The deadly invention of Commander Hange Zoe.

The city wasn't going to hold out for much longer. That meant he was still in a hurry. There was still an unfinished business he had to take care of.

***

All hell had broken loose, when Levi walked outside. The streets around him were ablaze with fire, from all sides all he could hear was explosions, cries and wallows. 

The worst of the fighting was done on the main plaza. A downpour of bullets rained down all around him, as two sides desperately fought to achieve victory.

His blindingly white military coat was making him an easy target and wordlessly told everyone which side he was on. So Levi shook it off and made the rest of the way, running from cover to cover, wearing only his thin shirt.

Because, apparently, the universe had its fill of miseries for him already, he was able to get to the entrance of army headquarters relatively unharmed.

Once he stepped inside, Levi had to pause and survey his surroundings. After all the chaos outside, the familiar hallways seemed almost unnaturally quiet.

It was unexpectedly empty too, although Levi was sure it won’t last for long.

Without wasting another moment, he headed to the dungeons. The lone guard that still stood there, protecting god knows what, at the sight of Levi raised his arm in salute.

“Captain Ackerman!” he shouted with no small amount of relief. “We were looking for you, General Yeager needs you—”

The words slowly died on his throat, as he took a better look at Levi’s face.

“Captain?” the guard asked cautiously. “Your face… Did you already engage in a fight? Are you hurt?”

“Get lost,” Levi growled, pushing past him. “Go and hide somewhere, wait until the fighting is over. Don’t throw away your life for this country,” his face changed, a shadow passing through it. “It’s not worth it.”

Without another glance at the soldier, Levi opened the large metal door and walked in.

She must be still here. Thankfully, she was.

***

In the silence of the dungeons, the sound of a key turning and the lock opening was loud like a gunshot.

It had Hange bolting up from her place at the bed.

“Levi!” she exclaimed, relief and happiness mixing in her voice.

“Get out.” He rasped, hollow and lifeless.

“Levi?” she approached him, cautiously, like a cornered, wounded animal. “What—”

“Get out!” he yelled. “While you still can.”

The thundering noise of heavy footsteps sounded up above them. The soldier, guarding the entrance, had probably reported to someone the news about his arrival. That, or they have already found the body in his apartment.

Either way, he was already done for. After murdering a war general, there was only one way for him to go.

And he’d rather get hanged, knowing that he did at least one good thing in his life.

The irony of it all was laughable. Always praised for his loyalty and obedience, he ended up as a traitor.

Like uncle, like nephew.

“Levi, what happened?” Hange stood right in front of him, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. She watched him, her eye shining with worry. “There’s blood on your face…”

“Not mine,” he answered, staring at the wall behind her shoulder with glassy, distant gaze.

“Thank gods…” she muttered, cradling his face in her hands. Using the sleeve of her shirt, she did her best to wipe the blood from his cheeks and jaw.

Levi didn’t look at her even once.

“Hey…” Hange tried again, moving even closer, her thumb absentmindedly brushing his cheekbone. “Levi, talk to me, please. What happened?”

“Go,” he wanted to push her away, but Hange didn’t sway, a look of stubborn determination taking over her features.

“I won’t go anywhere, until you tell me what happened.”

The footsteps became louder, soon they would reach the dungeon. He needed to get rid of Hange before that happens.

“My mother…” he whispered, shutting his eyes close. The mere memory of her body lying in a pool of her own blood brought him an immense amount of pain. It felt like someone had stuck a knife in his chest and turned it, it felt like someone had ripped his heart out.

“Oh, Levi,” Hange wrapped herself around him, burying her nose in his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Who did that? Was it—”

“No,” he shook his head. “She was killed by Marleyan. And I killed him.”

“That won’t go unpunished,” Hange carefully said, still holding him in her arms.

“I know. And I don’t care.”

“I do,” she said suddenly, the fierceness of her voice surprising Levi. “Go with me.”

“What?” Levi took a step back, staring at Hange with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“There is nothing keeping you here. And if you stay, they’ll put you in prison or worse. Run away with me, Levi.”

Her offer… was unexpected. He thought his life was already over, made his peace with that, but what Hange proposed… it didn’t sound that bad, not as bad as dying alone, at least.

If he accepted, he’d be able to find a purpose again. He’d finally get a friend.

He looked up at Hange. She was staring back at him, waiting for his answer. The footsteps up above stopped, and the voices appeared, Levi instantly recognized Zeke and Floch. They were close, possibly just behind the door.

Levi knew another way out, a hidden exit almost no one knew about. Hange could use it to escape, but she didn’t have much time.

Nevertheless, she didn’t falter. She didn’t glance back, didn’t fidget or sweat or tremble.

A force to be reckoned with, Levi remembered his own words.

“All this talk of running away…” he lifted his lips in a shadow of a smile. “Do you wish to recruit me so bad, Commander?”

“I told you, we could use your skills,” Hange answered, a smile breaking on her face as well. “So… are you interested in my offer?”

He reached out, grasped her hand in his and answered.

“I am.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Loki x Reader (f) 

Valentine’s Day with the God of Mischief 

Based on suggestion by: @squadleaderchase​

A/N: Thank you so much for the suggestion! I loved writing this, it was so much fun! 

Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!

There is also a gender neutral version of this fic, and will be posted shortly after this one! Read it here! 

I recommend to putting on Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis towards the end just for that finishing touch! 

Summary: When Loki learns about the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: none; just fluff 

“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.

“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”

Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.

“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.

“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”

Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.

“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”

“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.

“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”

“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.

“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”

“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.

***

“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”

“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.

“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.

“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”

“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get her.”

“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before

“Yes, brother. I asked her to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and she said yes.”

“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”

“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”

Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.

“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys her holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”

“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “She deserves to enjoy her time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up her evening.”

“What a loyal friend.”

Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.

***

Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.

You were just putting on your heels when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.

You had on a pair of dark green heels that perfectly matched your dress. You also layered over the outfit a suede brown jacket, that complimented the jewel tone of the dress and shoes nicely. You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket and bag both in hand.

“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”

“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.

“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.

Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.

“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a girl a good time. You gotta take her to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.

“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”

“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.

“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.

“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.

“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.

“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”

“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”

“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.

You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.

“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.

“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.

“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”

You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.

He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.

“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.

“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”

He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.

“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.

“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.

“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.

“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.

“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.

“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.

[damnzawa]

Hi there! I just found your account and I love you writing! I was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader fantasy au? Where prince bakugou goes to a small village in his kingdom for a pit stop while on a quest but meets the reader who's a poor butcher's daughter that doesn't know who he is and doesn't really care either but really wants to go on a quest and begs him to let her travel with him in exchange for being a chef. Thank you so much!!💞💕💗 ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾┌(★ｏ☆)┘

ANNOYING — B. KATSUKI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this took a long time to be published! I went off tumblr for a while due to personal issues but now I'm back! Hope you like this!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (for now)

WARNINGS: Language LMAO but its Bakugo so what do we expect. Also this is not beta read!

WORD COUNT: 1955

Not everyday you have the privilage to meet the prince. The heir to the kingdom's throne. The second most respected man in the whole entire kingdom.

And not everyday you get to mistake him as a thief either.

Not that you care about his title, really. You believe that all men are created equal, regardless of their social standings, heirarchy and whatnot. Thus, you didn't really care about the prince and the royal family that much to ever know about them. Not even their faces, nor names.

So, it wasn't a surprise that it will cause you your possible demise.

You see, the day started nice. You went out to do some deliveries, met some nice people on the road who bought half of the meat your father had cut, and to top it all off the farmer was kind enough to give you extra rootcrops as a sign of gratitude to you and your father. It was a great day all in all. Until, the knights came.

Along with the explosive prince.

Murmurs began to start as you headed back to your father's stall in the market after a long day of delivery work. Even though you didn't mean to eavesdrop — it was kind of hard not to, considering how their volumes were — you caught the words: arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered. And later you found out those words described the prince.

"He must be a nincompoop then. To get such a reputation from the people in town, he must have done some... questionable things." You said to yourself. Too engrosed in your thoughts, you bumped into a red-headed knight. You bowed immediately while apologizing then excused yourself, you didn't really want to interact with knights today. All you wanted to do was cook a hearty meal for your stubborn father, read a book by the fireplace after a bath, and relax.

But all those plans seem to be quickly washed away when you saw an ash blond quietly steal from your father. You were gonna let it slide, thinking that maybe it was for a good cause.

That is until you realized, the man stole a prime cut.

As if a switch was flicked, you quickly ran towards the direction the man headed to. Spotting him from afar, you ran as fast as you can and knocked the man into the ground, shocking the people around you.

"Give it back." You sternly commanded the man. "Give back the meat you stole from my father."

The man scoffed at your 'accusations' and tried to wiggle his way free but your entire weight placed on top of his back made it hard to do so. "Let me fucking go. I have no idea what the actual fuck you are accusing me of."

"Oh shut it. I saw you with my own two eyes and I am very much sure that their vision is not impaired yet." His futile attempts at escaping now stopped as he tilted his head to see the scoundrel who had the audacity to knock him down and embarrass him infront of townspeople.

Of course it had to be a girl.

"Are you one of my admirers to go such lengths as accusing me of stealing from a commoner?" That comment made your eye twitch because first, you are certainly not an admirer of this prick. Two, you don't even know the guy! Three, who would admire this piece of work? And lastly, your father might be a 'commoner' but he's the best 'commoner' you could ever find! There wouldn't be a slab of ribs or a fine piece of steak on your plates if it weren't for him! And the way this asshole said 'commoner' with such distaste too! What a prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

"My prince!" The same red-headed knight you bumped into earlier shouted from afar. Your eyes widened for a second before turning back to the asshole beneath you who now has a smug grin on his face.

"Miss! Are you alright?" The knight asked while helping you get up. "Did the prince cause you any disturbances? Any problems?" It was your turn to plaster on a smug grin on your face. You saw his own falter which you made you more smug than before.

"Why yes actually, the prince caused me a slight inconvenience." The red-head sighed, taking a quick glance at the prince beside him — who couldn't stand due to pain. "The prince stole a priceless little thing from my father's stall earlier and I'd like for him to return it or better yet, pay for it." The prince was about to retort but the red-head beat him to it.

"I deeply apologize for the prince's action, miss. If it would make you happy and satisfied, I will pay for the items he stole. I will also ask for forgiveness on his behalf." Angry noises came from the prince's (beast) mouth as the red-headed knight did exactly what he told making you raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing it for him? Can't he do it himself?" It was amazing to see a knight easily convinced to do something a mere 'commoner' like you demanded, but you concluded that this red-headed fellow wasn't an ordinary knight. He seemed like the type that's fed up with the prince's antics, thus his demeanor towards people is filled with empathy and the usual knightly courage. But your words made him halt, and look at you as if you were from some otherworldly land.

You caught the knight mutter about something manly before the prince interrupted. "Hah?! I'm not gonna apologize to someone lower than me! You extra!" The knight sweat-dropped at the prince's words while you looked at him blankly. Wow, the rumors are true, he is an asshole.

"Well, Your Highness, this extra happened to be the one who cared for the rib who used to be a part of the cow that you stole just now. So, apologize and pay up. I don't care if you're the prince or not. Thievery is a crime, and you just committed it." The crowd begin to whisper, making the prince's eye twitch.

"Fine, you annoying extra! Give her whatever the fuck she wants!" And with that the prince stormed off. Leaving you and the red-haired knight behind. The crowd began to disperse, seeing as the scene just concluded and that the man of the hour was gone.

The knight turned to you once again and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry for my prince's actions. As he caused such an inconvenience and refuses to be accountable for his actions, I shall ensure to provide whatever compensation you need or want — within reason of course." Before you can respond, he introduces himself with a grin. "Ah! How silly of me! Chivalric knight, Kirishima Eijirou at your service."

"I appreciate your efforts, Sir Kirishima, but I just need the payment for the stolen goods." You replied with a smile, but soon your smile faltered. You had wanted to be a chef for so long and travel unknown lands to discover cuisine and cooking techniques you've never heard of before. Perhaps... is this the right time to do it?

You bit your lip as you contemplated. Should you grab this opportunity and run with it?

Seeing your hesitancy, Kirishima waited for your answer. "Actually... I have a request... I was wondering if it's possible?"

"I'm all ears, Miss."

...

"What is this extra doing here?!" Prince Bakugo exclaimed as he saw your annoying little face within his traveling party. Kirishima sighed as he explained the situation. You would join his party as a chef until you reach the capital where you will be training to be a chef under the great Lunch Rush. Bakugo was about to object when Kirishima shot him a look.

"Fine. But I'm not eating garbage cooked by a commoner!" You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. Are all royals like this?

As if reading your mind, Kirishima responds. "Don't worry. King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki are quite modest and kind."

"Then what happened to him?" You pointed to Bakugo.

"I heard that, you extra!" Fowl language followed that statement making the traveling party sigh. Oh boy, this is gonna be a painful journey.

After that, you said your goodbyes to your father, who was very emotional about the turn of events. "Be good and be brave, my sweet child. And ask for forgiveness from His Highness." Your brows were scrunched in confusion.

"Why must I do that? He was clearly in the wrong!"

"Ah... that slab of meat was a present from me to him. He once helped me round up the cows when his traveling party went by our house yesterday. The slab of priceless meat was a token of appreciation for his kind gesture. So, do apologize for your actions, ok?" The information you just heard astounded you, making you speechless. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you promised your father that you will apologize to the prince. And with a final promise of coming home as a renowned chef, you parted ways.

The journey started rough. The prince refused to eat anything you made at all. His stubbornness knows no bounds and his overall demeanor towards you was not pleasant, which you understood as the scene you caused was a total misunderstanding on your part. The only upside was the traveling party greatly enjoyed your meals, and some even gave you recipes from different places and suggestions of destinations that you'll surely enjoy to explore! Overall, it went smoothly.

That is, until the prince became sick.

The doctors in your traveling party asked you to concoct different meals suited to His Highness, You had to stop at a village in order to ensure Prince Bakugo's speedy recovery. And one day, you were assigned to deliver his meals to him personally.

"Prince Bakugo?" You knocked on the door, and as expected, not a response came from the prince. You sighed and slowly opened the door, cautiously stepping in so you won't wake Bakugo up or spill the contents of the bowl you held.

"Go away, you extra." He grumbled, but his rough voice was replaced with a weak ome due to his illness.

"Look, I know you won't eat my meals but you need to eat. You can't recover from this if your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to fight back this illness." You huffed. "And... besides, consider this as my way of making up to you."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"My father told me about it. I'm sorry for mistaking you for a thief. I tried to apologize to you on several occasions but you angrily push me away every time I do. So, I figured this might be the right timing since you know... you aren't your usual aggressive self." You scratched your nape in embarrassment. "Besides, if there's something I learned while traveling with you is that you're a big softie inside. You might act rough and is shard on the edges, you're actually kind-hearted and caring. Uh... anyways. Please make sure to eat your meal, Prince Bakugo."

Before you can exit the room, you heard him say, "Annoying extra." But the usual hostility behind those words wasn't there. You might just be assuming it or imagining it, but those words almost sounded... fond.

With a shake of your head, you left the room.

Later that day, you found the bowl to be empty and outside of his room. Along with it was a note that read, "Don't fucking tell me what to do, you annoying extra."

[hetalia-reacts]

Hiiii✨ I love your blog 💕 I was wondering if I could possibly get some German Bros + Italy Bros (all separate) with an S/O who is really shy and stutters around other people EXCEPT when it’s to talk about their boyfriend, please? For example, S/O is struggling to get through a convo with someone else because of anxiety but their boyfriend comes up and they just light up and won’t. shut. up. about how great their man is? I just think it’s a really cute idea.

I know how tough it is keeping up a writing blog, so take your time sweetheart 🧡 Thank you ☺️

Thank you for understanding!♡ Also, this request is super cute~

Germany

Ludwig is happy, but also thoroughly embarrassed by this discovery

He's very caring and protective of you

so knowing you're shy and anxious in conversations makes him be on high alert when y'all are out and about

when he sees you having a conversation with someone after he left to go check something he's practically running over there to offer you emotional support and get you out of there

but as he's about to pull you out of the situation your face lights up and you immediately start introducing and gushing about him

Ludwig is left baffled by this every time no matter how many times this happens

he really thought you needed help but now you seem perfectly fine???

he ends up just standing there looking at you like he doesn't even know who you are

don't get him wrong he's incredibly flattered that you think these things of him and that you want to tell people about how great he is

but wow is it kinda embarrassing to sit there and just get complimented by you and some stranger

he does like it though

he keeps the compliments in his back pocket for a rainy day

and while maybe he doesn't go and do that same thing for you he does let you know quite often how much he loves you and how beautiful and great you are

Prussia

Gilbert is in love when he finds this out

He may seem cocky and egotistic but it's definitely a front so his feelings don't get hurt

Gilbert is also protective over you since you're so shy so his cockiness gets doubled so he can compensate for you

he's worried about you being taken advantage of so he keeps a close eye on you

so when he sees you stuttering through a conversation with someone he's obviously ready to go and save you from this

but then he gets left in shock

As soon as he gets within eyesight of you, you immediately start pointing and waving him over so he'll hurry up and get to you

his first thought is obviously you're wanting help out of this

but then you start going on and on about how cool and nice and handsome he is

Gilbert would probably die in this situation

his chest is hurting because he feels so loved and appreciated like he's never been before

He'll spend the rest of that conversation kind latched onto you and speechless

he will keep this moment and every moment like this tucked away forever for when he needs a pick me up

you can also bet he's returning the favor the next time you do this

Italy

Feliciano falls in love all over again when these situations happen

to start he really loves how shy you are

in his mind, it gives him an opportunity to be strong for you

you struggle in conversations due to shyness and he thrives in social situations so this is his time to shine

so when he sees you in social situations obviously not having a good time he makes his way to you to save the day

except when he gets to your side you start to get animated

like really animated

and your start praising and complimenting him in every way

Feliciano is absolutely in love at this point

sure he's a little disheartened because he can't really be a hero and scoop you up and take you away from these things since your fine now

but he's happy he can be your emotional support in some way

plus he really does like it when you compliment him and he loves watching how happy you get when talking about him

he will never stop mentioning how you talk about him

Germany and Japan have probably heard the same stories 1000 times

he's just so happy and feels so loved that he can't help it

100% will do the same thing for you, no one will get out of a conversation anymore without knowing how cheesy and in love you both are

Romano

Lovino L I V E S for this but secretly

He thinks your shyness is charming first of all

ofc he’d never admit it to your face because that’s kind of embarrassing since you might not like being so shy, but the statement still stands

But seeing you struggling to have a conversation kinda breaks his heart

so he goes up and helps you get through the conversation or make the jerk that’s making you anxious go away

But he gets there and you just switch personalities???

Your face lights up like his mere presence is a blessing

And just in that alone Lovino is super happy and content

But then you start talking a mile a minute when you were struggling to say hi less than a second ago

And you're talking about him like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, listing and gushing about him in every way possible

It’s now his turn to start stuttering and shying away from the conversation

Lovino will get extremely embarrassed by this

But it's because he’s really flattered

he’ll be thinking about this moment for a long time

He doesn’t understand how you could think so highly of him that you would gain the power to overcome your social anxiety just to tell others about how great he is

Absolutely blows his mind and makes him fall in love with you more

[milgrammer]

[ENG] Molech Voice Drama

Es: [footsteps]

Shido: Hm?

Es: Sorry to have kept you waiting. [footsteps] Prisoner number 5, Shido. 

Shido: No need to. Thank you for all your hard work, Es.

Es: Now then, Shido. Let’s begin the interrogation.

Shido: Very well. Please go ahead.

Es: [hesitates] Ok. Let’s see... Milgram exists to reveal the sins of you, prisoners, and to hand down the appropriate judgement. So, for that reason, talk to me for a bit. 

Shido: Understood. Please take good care of me from now on.

Es: [pauses] Even if this is referred to as an interrogation, at this moment in time, I don’t plan on using violence. In addition to that, any falsehood or silence from you will be acknowledged.

Shido: I see. I might refrain from voicing anything I don’t want to say, but I have no intention of lying to you.

Es: Shido, how’s life in Milgram? Do you have any complaints about its environment? Or have any issues arisen from the other prisoners, etc?

Shido: No particular inadequacies really come to mind. And, my fellow prisoners haven't particularly caused any issues either. Es, I wonder if this is the fruit of all the governing you do? It’s remarkable.

Es: Not really. [hesitates] Hold on a second, Shido. 

Shido: Yes? What is it?

Es: This is… I know it’s me who’s getting things mixed up here, but…  In comparison to all the interrogations thus far, this one has been progressing far too smoothly; it feels somewhat unsettling. 

Shido: I’m not sure what to say to that... 

Es: Hm. [footsteps] Shido, do you seriously not have any reservations about Milgram? 

Shido: Well, let’s see. I mean, without a doubt, it’s clearly a strange place. Its architectural style and the written script it uses are things I’ve never seen before either. If you were to say I was having a dream or a vision, then that would make more sense to me. 

Es: Hm.

Shido: But, all things considered, I’m still very much conscious. My pulse rate is within its normal range. And, I can’t find any symptoms to suggest that I’m hallucinating either. So, I don't exactly find that idea to be very convincing.

Es: Oh?

Shido: Other than that... If this is the afterlife, then this place must be hell. But, if I set that idea aside, then… This is just real life. I, myself, am in normal condition; it’s where I am which is unusual. I may not know the reason behind this place or how it works, but even if I tried to escape from the reality of it, nothing would really change, right?

Es: You sure are composed, aren’t you? 

Shido: That’s just my personality. I just simply don’t think bad of it—this place, I mean. 

Es: You mean, Milgram?

Shido: Yeah, this place will put me to death. 

Es: What?

Shido: I might not get a golden opportunity like this again, so I’ll get straight to the point. Es… You decide how the prisoners will be dealt with, right? 

Es: Yeah. That’s right.

Shido: The death penalty is what I’m hoping for. Thank you in advance. 

Es: I won’t have that. The lot of you can’t decide what your own treatment will be. Only I as the prison guard have the authority to do so.

Shido: Exactly. You as the prison guard have the right to do such a thing, Es, so that’s why I’m asking you for this favour. 

Es: [scratches head, sighs] In regards to your sin, what I’ve gathered so far is that you both regret and have already reflected on your actions. On top of that, you’re also seeking to receive the maximum penalty we have to offer. So, let’s use that information. The idea that I’ll be taking your behaviour into consideration is nothing more than a mere presumption.

Shido: [hesitates]

Es: And, of course, I haven’t thrown away the possibility that you’re only doing this to get on my good side either.

Shido: Hm. I honestly have no idea what you and Milgram are setting out to achieve. You mentioned something about extracting songs and videos from our hearts, and then using them to judge our sins, didn’t you?

Es: Yeah. And, what of it?

Shido: There’s no need for you to go through such a cumbersome process. If you want to hand down the correct punishment for me, then all you have to do is put an end to my life and it'll be over in a blink of an eye.

Es: You’re being annoyingly persistent, Shido! Know your place here. 

Shido: Please listen to me, Es. I’ve killed people. Lots of them as well. It was for such a selfish reason too. I’m a fine specimen of what a genuine murderer ought to be. [footsteps] There’s no reason for you to forgive me. And, I don’t have the desire to be forgiven either.

Es: I really don’t...get you.

Shido: If you don’t put me to death, then neither the people I’ve killed nor their families will be at peace. Don’t you think so too?    

Es: As if that’s my business. I haven’t necessarily sided with your victims and I’m not a family member of theirs either.

Shido: [sighs]

Es: [sighs] Anyway, the only thing I’ll be deciding on is whether or not I forgive you. I don’t even know the details of what punishment will follow after that. 

Shido: Is that so? Es, I suppose you were left in the dark about many things as well just like the rest of us. 

Es: Knowing what happens to the lot of you afterwards might prevent me from making a straightforward decision about whether I should forgive you or not. So, it’s to avoid that from happening. Were you aware of that? 

Shido: Hm… But, this place does smell of the dead though. I’m sure that some sort of death will lie at the end of Milgram.

Es: Smell of the dead? 

Shido: Yes. I can somewhat recognise it from experience… A place which is filled with the smell of the dead, that is. 

Es: Is...that so? Well, either way, Milgram is a three-trial system. It lets me take my time to decide on whether or not I should forgive you. Even if you wish for the opposite, if I decide that you should be forgiven, then it’ll do just that without any hesitation. 

Shido: A three-trial system, right? It’ll take far too long, don’t you think? I’d rather this all be over as soon as possible.

Es: Like I care about what’s convenient for you. Don’t complain about the rules.

Shido: So, if it’s a three-trial system… Then, for example, if you absolutely can’t find it within yourself to forgive me and I don’t lodge an appeal in response, will my treatment be decided on the spot?

Es: That’s the three-trial system according to Japanese law. Milgram’s one is different from that. For the time being, you really should throw away what would be considered common sense there. I mean, if we’re gonna bring up Japan… Due to the abolition of the Prison law, this sort of prison shouldn’t even exist in the first place. (1)

Shido: Wow… 

Es: What is it? You’re going all wide-eyed. 

Shido: Ah, well… I was just thinking about how despite being a child, you’ve really done your research on this.

Es: Hey. [footsteps] You trying to make fun of me, is that it? 

Shido: What? Oh, no. I wasn’t trying to do anything like that.

Es: You were. Something’s been on my mind ever since the very beginning… “Es, this. Es, that.” It’s the belittling way you refer to me…  I’m the prison guard, you know that?

Shido: Oh, I’m completely aware of that. But, you’re still a child in actuality. Coming from me, who’s almost twice the age as you are, I just… 

Es: What is it?

Shido: For a child like you to be entrusted with this sort of role… My heart goes out to you. 

Es: Excuse me?

Shido: I don’t know what circumstances you face while guarding this prison nor the reason as to why you’re doing it, but I’m sure that it must take a toll on you emotionally as well. So, please do your best. [pats head]

Es: [is shook] I see. Oh, I see now. So, that’s how it is. So, that’s how it’s gonna be. [deep breaths]

Shido: Hm? Es?

Es: Don’t you dare… pat my head like that! [kicks]

Shido: [grunts] Please hold on for a second.

Es: Phew, I feel so much better now.

Shido: S-suddenly kicking my shin like that…wasn’t very nice of you.

Es: Shut up! Out of all the prisoners thus far, you’re the one I can’t stand the most. Going all pessimistic like that, running your mouth as if you knew everything, acting as if you’re oh-so mature, and never budging from that composed expression of yours—the nerve of you! On top of that, you even went so far as to pat my head. Do you think I’m your child? Do you?! Don’t fuck with me!

Shido: Didn’t you say that you wouldn’t use violence?

Es: It’s on a case-by-case basis.

Shido: What a thing to say.

Es: Hey, Shido. What the hell do you mean by "I want to die"? Don’t you dare try to insult me with that. Plead for your life with every fibre of your being! Our instinctive desire to stay alive is the very reason why punishments for our sins exist. To Milgram and to me, your very existence is sacrilegious! 

Shido: Es… 

Es: If your shin gets kicked, you’ll feel pain, won’t you? And if it hurts, you’ll cry out, won’t you? You’ll tear up, won’t you? 

Shido: Yeah… 

Es: Well, take that! Even if you boast about wanting to die, the pain you just felt is the exact same thing as your body screaming that it doesn’t want to. 

Shido: [pauses]

Es: While you’re still alive, you should be grabbing life with both hands! Don’t act as if you’re already dead. An adult like that has no right to treat me like a child. It makes my skin crawl. End of discussion!

Shido: I see… If I feel pain, then it’s proof that I want to live?

Es: Hmph!

Shido: [sighs] Well, with that being said, here’s my counterargument to it. It was the nociceptors in my shin which felt that pain. So, it's nothing more than a reaction caused by pain signals being transmitted to my spinal cord and then to my brain. That phenomenon is called nociceptive pain. 

Es: What?

Shido: What I’m saying is… Even if I do want to die, pain is something which will still involuntarily occur. And therefore, you, Es, were making a mistake in your claim.

Es: That's so immature of you. 

Shido: [laughs] It’s payback for kicking my shin like that. But, you know, I think it was an amazing mistake to have made. It was so radiant...to the point where it made me want to turn away. Just as I thought, you truly are a child…but that makes me incredibly happy.

Es: Shido… [mechanical noises] It’s time, huh.

Shido: So, this is what will be “extracting songs”? It sure is intriguing. I wonder what mine will be like. 

Es: Composed no matter what, aren’t you? Is there anything left you'd like to say? 

Shido: Oh, yeah. I don’t know about what the other prisoners may think about Milgram itself, but…  I fully agree with it.

Es: Sure seems that way.

Shido: I’m a fine specimen of what a murderer ought to be. I don’t mind when you hand down your judgement, but if it's possible… Instead of being told by the law that I won’t be forgiven, I wanted a child like you, Es, to tell me that.

Es: What?

Shido: I feel sorry that you had to be given this role. And, I truly apologise for being so insistent about sentencing me to death as well…  But, you’re perfect. You’ll give me the ending I’m most suited for. 

Es: [hesitates] Y-you… What’re you saying? A special request like that is so...

Shido: [laughs] Well, I wonder. I'm just trying to get you to punish me as of now. 

Es: [hesitates] 

Shido: I look forward to you handing down the correct judgment.

Es: You’re making a false presumption there. It’s the fact that it’s my judgment which makes it correct! That’s what Milgram is.

Shido: Then, I look forward to what you deem to be ‘correct’.

Es: Hmph. Say whatever you want.

Shido: Please make sure you don’t forgive me. Okay, Es?

Es: [scoffs] Don’t make me say it over and over again! I don’t give a shit about what you’re hoping for. Prisoner number 5, Shido. Come now. Sing your sins!

「監獄」 [kangoku] were essentially comprised of 「刑務所」 (for those people serving a sentence) and 「拘置所」 (for suspects, those who were awaiting a sentence or those on death row).  They operated under 「監獄法」 (the Prison Law). However, due to abolition of the Prison Law in 2007, those facilities are no longer called 「監獄」, but are now referred to as 「刑事施設」.

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #11

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567529

{fancy suits from dad}

Ships: Peter Stark & Tony Stark, Pepper Pots/Tony Stark

Warnings: swearing, just fluff otherwise :)

Wc: 2,319

Here’s the thing, Peter Parker grew up in Stark Tower, which eventually became Avengers Tower of course. So whilst his whole class was buzzing about their field trip, all he could think was, “shit, shit shit.” His dad was going to embarrass the hell out of him. His Aunts and Uncles were going to endlessly tease him.

So, no Peter was not looking forward to the field trip. Not in the slightest. He still wanted to go, though. He knew that the rumors of his internship being fake were started by Flash, the annoying teen. He also knew that Flash had not once said his real name, preferring the name Penis Parker. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Also since highschool began, Flash had calmed down with his bullying. Well, maybe Flash hadn’t calmed down and high school was just bigger and he had thicker skin. And a new support system with plenty of people to go to.

Peter had been adopted by the Starks when he was a mere ten years old. At first, he was terrible at receiving any gifts or even too much attention. Slowly but surely, he got more and more used to it. Now, he wouldn’t not know what to do if any of that was taken away. Plus, he really did find a liking for expensive suits, however shallow. He looked good in them, and his father always insisted on buying him more and more. Tony would always find an excuse to spoil the kid a little more, however much Pepper tried to stop him.

“Peter, please see me after class regarding an urgent matter.”

Brough out of his thoughts, Peter swiftly nodded his head.

He looked at the board to see the words from before still written on them, “Field Trip to Stark Industries!” It might as well have said, “Dig Peter Stark’s Grave!”

“So, let’s get started with today’s lesson, graphing imaginary numbers on the complex plane!” He’d done this one a while back with his father. Something about not only learning applicable science and engineering. Peter tapped his glass, and the episode of Arrow he’d been watching on the car ride over began playing. He’d be ever grateful for his father’s gift of EDITH to him. Pepper had tried to ban him from wearing them to school, but hastily gave up when Peter pulled the spiderman danger card.

“Alright, class dismissed. Please remember to do this homework pages 11-18 on this unit’s homework handout.”

Peter, forgetting his teacher's previous request, was very glad to be on his way home. He was one foot out of the door when the teacher called his name. Now, his day had gone pretty well up to that point. Bucky made pancakes for breakfast, which were delicious. There was wayyy less traffic on the way to school. He’d aced an essay and a couple of quizzes, and then he even participated in PE effectively. But alas, all good things had to come to an end.

“Mr. Parker? The discussion.”

“Right,” Peter thought, joining the teacher at his desk.

“Peter, you are truly a great kid. I know you’ve been through a lot recently and in your life, but it is no excuse to make up an internship. We both know that it is not real. Now, acknowledging that you have a bright future, the administration and I have come forward with an offer. If you agree to write an apology, expressing that you understand what you did was wrong and immoral, you will both be allowed to come on the trip and no punishment will be given to you. If you choose to not take this opportunity, you will be banned from the trip and will be chastised.

Peter just stood there, not really comprehending. Apparently Flash’s little rumors were a lot bigger than he anticipated.

“I-i-I’m not lying,” was all he could manage. He had filed all the right paperwork and proved his internship.

“I’m sorry to hear that you will not come forward with the truth. You have up until the day before the trip to hand in the letter if you change your mind. Goodbye Peter.”

Peter just let his legs take him out of the classroom, then out of the school, and then to the road, a couple blocks away, where his dad picks him up from.

“Hello mini-me.”

“Hey,” Peter said, jumping into the passenger seat.

“‘Hi Dad, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up each and every day. Sick new car by the way! I’d love to drive it sometime!”

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile, “Car looks great dad. McLarren’s are superior yet.”

“Ungrateful, so so ungrateful. What’s got you in a mood then?”

“Nothin,” Peter said, pulling out his phone.

“Oh come on, tell me. Tell me or I’ll call Ted.”

“Ned, Dad. We’ve been friends for like three years.”

“Not the point.”

“Just something at school.”

“Wow how very descriptive. You know I’m trying to do the whole feelings thing here, and you should appreciate that coming from my emotionally stunted self.”

“You’re so dramatic. Basically we’re having a field trip to your tower, and I’m not allowed to go because the teacher doesn’t think I really have an “internship.” Which, to be fair I don’t but that’s on you and not me.”

“Nah na na. I offered you an internship, and you said I’d be bored.”

“It would be. Doing a project for your company under strict supervision of some person would be sucky. I mean I can do anything I want from the lab you built me.”

“I know, but remember technically you are my intern. Remember we did that whole personal intern bullshit for the school.”

“Oh right. Is that why you keep harassing me about submitting all my completed projects.”

“No, that’s all your mother. Something about not wanting a lawsuit over a fake internship.”

“Make sense. She tends to be a lot smarter than you.”

“Ah, I feel so attacked. The abuse I suffer.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I am internally crying, kid. Sobbing.”

“Shut up,” we laughed.

“Who’s home?”

“You saw Buck and Sam this morning. Nat and Steve came back from their mission this afternoon. Thor and Loki are back for dinner tonight.. Strange might be coming round, not sure though. Cliff and the family aren’t back for at least a couple weeks. Oh and Bruce is wholed up in his lab as usual.”

“Shit. Everyone staying till the end of the week.”

“Yeah, oh the field trip. You’re screwed. You should have not told me.”

“Ughhhhh!!!”

“I love your life Petey.”

Peter walked into the kitchen and saw Steve reading a newspaper.

“Uncle Steve! Your back!” he smiled, dropping his bag off near the sofa. Steve got up to give the smaller boy a hug.

“Yep. Mission completed.”

“Nice. Can you tell me about it?”

“Yeah, it was nothing too interesting. We just needed some more intel into a terrorist organization stationed in the US. Most of the mission was recon. The next steps are being taken in a couple weeks.”

“Good to know there’s an active terrorist organization out there,” Peter said lightly.

Steve just smiled, not quite understanding the modern humor.

“Where is everyone else?” he said, realizing the living room was not in it’s normal chaotic state that he’d come to love. The chaos was his favorite reminder that he had so many people. He liked having lots of people, even after all this time.

“Nat and Buck are training, they invited you to join if you want. Bruce is in his lab, and dont worry he slept and ate last night. Not sure about the rest.”

“Right, thanks. I think I’m going to go train.”

Before he knew it, it was Friday morning, and his school was coming to his home. He was going to try very hard to ignore them. To do so, he asked his mum to let him sit in on some meetings. He had an easy in to the R&D and mechanical side of the company via the other interns. He was actually planning on hanging out with some of the “other” interns later that day. They were always happy to let Pete in on their projects and let him give them a hand. But he was always interested in getting more detail about the business side of the company, and he liked to get a window into it. Pepper was always happy to show her son the ropes. I mean he was heir to the company after all, even if he didn’t know yet.

He asked his mum to only schedule meetings after 12 as he requested a sleep in. Pepper was always happy when Peter slept as he was a little too much like his father. So, he woke bright and early at 11:00 o’clock.

After a scroll through his phone and a quick shower, he was ready to pull on his far too expensive Brunellio’s custom suit. It was one of his favorites. His father had got it custom made when he was in Italy, and told him he simply could not resist getting one for the kid. Pepper just smiled.

He had a large breakfast (enhanced metabolism) and headed towards the 34th floor where his first meeting was located. He’d been shadowing his mum for almost a year now whenever it was convenient, so he had the rointine down. He was almost sure he could take over a few of her meetings.

“Hi honey,” Pepper said, giving the boy a quick kiss on the cheek on the way to her own chair beside him. Peter blushed before resuming his professional posture and facial expression.

“Good morning everyone, as you can see Peter will be joining us today. I want to talk about some of the services we provide for our employees and their feedback. I’m aware we have a large portion to talk about so Kendra please take it away on that front.”

The first meeting went smoothly as planned. It was a discussion on the progress of the internal services, aka the IT department. Peter hadn’t learned much about their IT department, so it was good to listen in to. Pre these meetings, he, of course, does research into the background stuff, so he’s not completely lost. Pepper’s assistant usually provides him with a packet of info about the Stark Industries side of things. He is also given a list of key words and concepts he might want to make sure he understands. The research is fun for him, it makes him feel all professional.

Usually he spoke during the meetings, asking a couple questions and suggesting some ideas, but for this one he just learned and took in. The next meeting, however, was very much so his field. He’d spoken a lot with advertising, becoming very interested in the data analysis behind it. He even took a stats class so he could keep up. In that one he asked questions Pepper was on the verge of asking twice. He also contributed to the analysis of data once. Pepper usually liked him to participate as it was good for him, but he always felt bad suggesting stuff to the senior adults. He usually spoke to his mum or dad about projects for the company, preferring that.

They hung back in the room of the second meeting.

“Good job in this one Pete. Took two questions right off my tongue.”

“Thanks ma,” he said, always appreciating some approval.

“That’s all I’ve got for you today, kid. Rest of the stuff is, ya know.”

“Course. Thanks for these two. It was good to learn about internal affairs a bit more. Have a gap of knowledge there.”

“Yeah. Was that the first time meeting our CIT?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, next time we have a broader IA meeting, I’ll pull you outta school,” Pepper suggested.

“Really? That’d be epic.”

“Course, hun. Jarvis, sort that out please.”

“Of course Mrs. Potts.”

“Thanks J,” Peter yelled.

“Anytime mini-boss. No need to disturb the entire floor.”

“Are AI supposed to be so snarky?”

“Dad programmed it, what else would it be?”

“Valid point.”

“Right, got to run. See you later.”

“Bye, love you mum!”

“Love you too, Pete.”

“Jarvis, could you send me the tour plan for the visiting tour today?”

“Absolutely, sir. They’re on your phone now.”

“Thanks J.”

Looking at the plans Peter smiled. He had successfully avoided them the entire day. It said they were supposed to head back to school at 2:30, and it was about to be three. Smile on his face, he trotted down to the lobby to grab a coffee before going to meet Loki at the arcade. Don’t judge them, it was their thing. Taking the private lift down, and then walking straight to the coffee stand and ordering.

“Mr. Parker!” he heard the angry voice of his teacher, “How dare you show up here aft-”

Shit. shit. Shit.

“Edith, call dad, and tell him it’s urgent in the lobby.”

“Of course Peter.”

“Peter, are you listening to me! You are going to face extreme consequences for this.”

“Your coffee,” the man said, not realizing it was Peter, level ten personal of the tower, that was being yelled at.

“Thanks.”

“How dare you get coffee! In this building! Security!”

Tony arrived spotting his son instantly.

“Kid this best be impor- I see.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly.

“Mr. Harrington is it? Please stop harassing my intern.”

“H-he, he is y-your intern?”

“Yes. My favorite. Please exit the building and never question him again. You will be hearing from me.”

Let’s just say, Monday was an interesting day. At least Flash backed off, he was definitely an intern at SI, and no one embarrassed him on the trip.