#and this somehow manages to make him the most important person in the world. twice. because he is the crusty version of samwise gangee

[bahoreal]

it genuinely makes me so sad that more people didnt watch three body. it was masterfully done beautifully paced and with so many compelling dynamics relationships and character journeys and with a whole dump of realistic scifi that was explained extremely well And a healthy dose of pure existential horror that i still havent managed to shake months and months and months after watching it. please watch three body. it is so good.

[makedonsgriva]

Wrote this short oneshot today as a way to practice writing feelings and stuff. Basically, all the emotions Hua Cheng experiences after he gets the news of Xie Lian's third ascension which is the first news he gets of Xie Lian in centuries.

“Xie Lian has ascended again.”

Hua Cheng is in the middle of reading a detailed account of the recent transactions the Ghost City has made with the Imperial Water Demons of the South Sea when He Xuan’s voice ringing in his head through the personal communication array practically stupefies him. He lifts his head slowly, his hair falling back from where it had previously been framing his perfectly chiselled-out pale face, his dark eye unfocused and blown wide in shock. Inexplicably, his mouth drops open.

Xie Lian…

Xie Lian has…?

His hands holding the scroll feel numb, his grip loosening, and the scroll falls to the ground in a heap. Hua Cheng makes no move to retrieve it and instead remains frozen where he had been sitting in the middle of his private chambers. Outside the Paradise Manor, everything is quiet for once, as if every noise died down to give birth to this tremendous, glorious news.

It feels like the earth has stopped revolving. Not even the leaves are rustling anymore. Despite everything being so still around, there is a loud, persistent ringing in his ears. He is a ghost, but Hua Cheng swears that if he had a heart, it would be beating so fast that it would practically explode. Somehow, everything is too loud and too quiet at once. Like he has been sucked into a vacuum and his skeleton is going to explode out of his body. 

Maybe something really happened to his ashes. Maybe his soul is dispersing, and his mind is conjuring up the wildest fantasies to enjoy before he finally bids farewell to this cruel, cruel world. Because it can’t be.

It can’t be. 

It can’t be.

“Come again.” He answers after what feels like a millennium, unsure if he misheard. He must have had. There is no way he heard right. There’s a lump in his throat, and he cannot, he dares not believe what He Xuan said. He must have heard something wrong. His ears must have been blocked. Xie Lian’s name is like a constant chant in his head; maybe he misinterpreted He Xuan. Or perhaps he got tired of going over the same stupid scrolls over and over and started hallucinating.

That must be it! He got bored of the shitty accounts he has to manage and he started daydreaming again.  Because how many times has he daydreamed of this situation? When someone, anyone would tell him the whereabouts of his beloved Dianxia. He starts each day in the hope of some news and ends each day with bitter hopelessness. So how come now, on one of the most ordinary days of his cursed life, he suddenly knows where his beloved is? Is this a sick joke He Xuan is making up? 

But he knows Black Water is not the one who jokes around like this. He would never joke about this. He knows how important Xie Lian is for Hua Cheng. How he worships him every day at dawn without fail. How the only person Hua Cheng cared about while alive and after death is his god, his beloved Crown Prince. He Xuan knows that Hua Cheng is the Supreme Ghost King, but he will fall to his knees in complete surrender in front of his beloved. He Xuan might be stoic, but he is not cruel. 

“I said,” He Xuan says in a slightly irritated voice now, “Xie Lian has ascended again.”

So, he is not hallucinating, after all. It’s true. He heard him right the first time. He does indeed know where Dianxia is now. Hua Cheng has no answer for He Xuan. He wants to say thank you, but the words don’t quite reach his tongue. Thank you feels inadequate. How do you thank someone after they’ve pulled you out of an ocean of misery you’d been drowning in for centuries? How do you tell them that a simple task they did without thinking twice like it was the most mundane thing, actually means as if someone filled a dying earthen lamp with oil again? 

Hua Cheng says nothing. The lump in his throat grows bigger. Xie Lian has ascended again. He keeps repeating the words in his head over and over as if scared the moment he stops, this truth would turn to dust, and he would lose Dianxia all over again. 

How many years has it been? 

Hua Cheng thinks he lost count at some point, but he has a rough idea that it has perhaps been 800 years since he last got any news of him. 800 years since he last saw his beloved, since he was by his side where he belonged.

800 years…

The mere thought of it now is unbearable. It has not even been one incense time since Hua Cheng finally got to know where his beloved is and now, he cannot seem to understand how he managed to live without any information about him for this long. Not knowing about Dianxia is suddenly unthinkable; even the idea of separation is something he cannot endure.

He does not realise when his face becomes wet with tears; at least half of it does. The other half is stained with blood, for his empty eye socket leaks blood, not tears. Hua Cheng is oblivious to the pain and blood; nothing matters to him anymore. His hands tremble as he grips the armrest of his opulent cushioned chair and struggles to rise, but his legs seem to have forgotten how to function. He looks a ghastly sight, bloodied and weak and a crying mess, but Hua Cheng has never felt better. He has never felt this happy. 

Dianxia…

He can’t help the soft sob that escapes from his lips, as if a knot he did not even know was present in his chest is unravelling. His fingers come up to clutch at his chest, his grip is so tight that any more pressure would tear a hole in his robes. Everything around him is suddenly bathed in a golden glow. His room doesn’t feel so cold and lonely anymore. A massive weight has been lifted off him, and suddenly, finally, he can breathe.

When was the last time he cried? Hua Cheng does not remember, but he does not care. 

Dianxia, Dianxia, Dianxia, he repeats over and over softly.

“Oh, also.’ He Xuan’s voice comes through in his head again, interrupting his mindless crazed muttering. “He is apparently heading over to Mount Yu Jun for an assignment.”

That startles Hua Cheng out of his dazed state, and he gets to his feet immediately. “Mount Yu Jun?”

“Yes, Mount Yu Jun. Get a grip on yourself, Crimson Rain. Why are you making me repeat everything I say?”

“I am alright.” Hua Cheng says after he somewhat regains his composure. He tries to answer in his usual snippy tone but it comes out as a croak. “Mind your business and… and thank you.”

There is a momentary pause. This time, He Xuan is the one struggling to reply, unsure if the haughty Crimson Rain actually thanked him, but Hua Cheng is as sincere as he can be when he says those words. He will probably even deduct some of Black Water’s debt for this service. 

“Whatever.” He Xuan says finally, his voice bored and uninterested. Hua Cheng knows the conversation is over.

Then, without any delay, he grabs E-Ming and heads out of his room. There is no time left to waste. 

[callsignfangs]

141 boys as gamers. Yep.

Price:

• Totally the rager.

• Insists the games are stupid and he couldn’t care less about them, he had important work, afterall

• Has to get a new controller/keyboard every few weeks and has multiple controller-sized holes in his walls. Probably even broken a couple mics unintentionally.

• Still plays almost exclusively competitive multiplayer games, tho. Might occasionally dip his toes into horror, challenge, and even collection-based games.

• Unleashes every foul word in his nasty vocab on anyone he dislikes in a game (probably had his mic taken away /j)

Ghost:

• Patience of a saint.

• Tells everyone he doesn’t care about gaming, and tbf he probably cares the least out of the four

• Probably played getting over it with a straight face for funsies

• Also needs to get new equipment often, but just because this dude manhandles it to hell.

• Picks games at random. Probably by the steam homepage. Maybe by requests/recommendations. Does tend to prefer open-world and sci-fi games, though. Also has a very intricate minecraft world he’s spent hundreds of hours on.

Gaz:

• Chaotic as shit

• Always looking for secrets and manages to practically destroy half his game files. He goes looking for an extra coin he missed in a hard to reach cubby two stages back and ends up glitching through the floor twice, skipping three bosses and deletes the save file all in the span of maybe five minutes

• Mans will absolutely feast on any game with decent lore, but actually prefers cosier games like unpacking, minecraft, stardew valley (heavy on stardew). Will happily explore adventure/exploration type games, as well.

• Sits in the weirdest positions when gaming. Mate has both legs straddling the monitor and has folded himself in half like a fleshy garden chair, managing to somehow play the game upside down with maybe a sliver of screen /j

Soap:

• Can’t take shite seriously. Imagine like. A stream with markiplier, wade and ethan as one person. (Gaz is his bob /j)

• Mostly horror games, probably.

• Has gotten banned from multiple platforms bc of this mans OUTRAGEOUS swearing. He pulls out multiple languages, from Scottish to, like, Arabic (ty Farah 😇)

• Speaking of, I think he’s learning a couple of languages. This was bc he accidentally came across a game he really wanted to play that hadn’t been translated to English, so he started learning bits to play it, then he realised he actually really enjoyed learning languages and opening up new opportunities to interact with both games and fans :]

• Most in tune (besides maybe Gaz) with the slang and references his fans make. I like to imagine him saying ‘the girls are fighting’ whenever there’s any fights in a game giggle.

• Has fallen asleep on stream multiple times. Like, he decides to do a gaming marathon and straight up falls asleep in the middle of it. Also if this man doesn’t go to bed at, like, exactly 8pm he will fall asleep right then and there. He’s an old man at heart.

• Makes the stupidest faces. A plot twist had his jaw absolutely snapping to the floor, eyebrows peeking over the clouds and hands on his head. I bet he’s done it so much his jaw clicks.

—

Sosoooo, hey. Im alive 😇😇 Sorry for randomly vanishing, ive had a bunch of personal stuff to deal with and honestly my motivation died a little. I pinky promise im working on asks n stuff 😚 I might stick to more hc-y posts for a bit just to like. get accustomed to everything again. So yaya 😚

[windor-truffle]

even MORE random graces playthrough nitpicky thoughts that i didn't get to last night!

whether people recognize who Richard is continues to be in flux, usually bending to whatever is plot convenient in the moment 😅 it's not bad writing though it's actually pretty realistic; some people would instantly recognize a celebrity walking around in a public place and others would not (*coughmecough*). This also is a nice touch of characterization, establishing things like Pascal's singlemindedness or which soldier NPCs are privy to what the royal family looks like

not terribly important stuff, just me musing on Richard's ties to Duke Dalen. He say's he's "distantly" related but I think duke's are supposed to be next in line for succession (though Cedric seems to surpass Dalen as an archduke). His backstory also sounds almost identical to how Aston became a lord too (tales of graces prequel where all of the lords of windor are party members who travel around with king ferdinand?? 👀), but unlike Dalen, Aston's family never married into the royal family (at least not canonically, but with fan fic we can change that 😤). Lastly I need more screenshots for evidence but unlike most characters, Richard tends to change whether he calls Duke Dalen by his full title or not, maybe because he's one of the few that outranks him.

I somehow managed to forget about the "mwa-mwa hanky-panky" skit 😂 to be fair this one is criminally easy to overlook since it triggers in the alley behind the inn. Pascal has been in the party for all of 30 minutes and she already ships it 😂

it's kinda hilarious how much extra stuff like this is hidden if you go around and explore instead of going to do the plot. like game-wise it makes sense to reward the player for exploring the world, story-wise Richard has already collapsed from exhaustion twice WHY are we making him walk all the way back to Lhant 😂 ah well he's getting his steps in

overthinking lore again but the game makes a point in saying how long it take cryas to recharge eleth naturally, and there doesn't seem to be a technology for people to do it themselves... makes me wonder how the valkines cryas end up being fully restored at the end of the game since they never explicitly show or explain it 🤔 but it does make sense story-wise for people to be freaking out when they're drained, that's a shit-ton of energy they're not expecting to get back any time soon (how long is "a really long time" game??? a human lifetime??? thousands of years??? graces explain!!!)

one of my favorite things to do in this time around is to check all the overworld checkable items with every party member- they each have different dialogue, and it can be really revealing or entertaining! for example, this world map in the Grayleside inn:

screenshots taken from my current point in the playthrough AND the L&L arc because I wanted to see if Richard's dialogue changed and not only did his change, everyone's did!!! to reflect their growth!!! wow!!! 🥰 i 💜 games with attention to detail :) it's cute to see what each person is focusing on: Asbel still cares about his hometown (but has now travelled and learned enough to find it on the map), Richard turns from his preoccupation of "how am I going to fix this mess my uncle made" to conviction of restoring peace like he'd always dreamed, and Pascal, having flown around the world in the shuttle and now can confirm it looks small from afar, is moving on to new and better ideas. 10/10 character writing, I'll have to come back here later to check out the other party member's changes between the main story and post game

[starry-eyed-extraterrestrial]

I was asking what omegaverse classification every member of mötley crüe fell under and then @anaalnathrakhs said that no matter what classification they are, they're always interesting and I'm inclined to agree, so here's a comprehensive list of what I think is interesting about the guys falling under each dynamic.

Alpha Vince - This just makes sense, Vince is cocky and sure of himself with an overly masculine energy. He covers up insecurities with fake hubris and gets aggressive whenever provoked in any way, I mean he literally challenged Axl Rose to a full on fist fight on live television, tell me that isn't alpha behaviour. Also being an alpha gives Vince an excuse to be overly sexual with no consequences, because the media (at least in omegaverse 80s)is always like “oh he's an alpha he can't help it, they're innately sexual beings, if you don't let alpha's be alphas your depriving them of their nature”  basically the media just enables him to fuck more as an alpha, without qeustion.

Omega Vince - This also makes sense somehow. Male omegas are rare and Vince loves being the centre of attention and by being an omega he would definitely stand out, which he loves. However Vince being a man whore would be more frowned upon in this context as “he's an omega, he should be saving himself for his alpha one day!” However I can't decide if this sentiment would make Vince more secretive about his slutiness or far more vocal about it (I'm leaning towards the latter). However I don't think that Omega Vince would feel as confident in his own skin as Alpha or beta Vince would, as being called a used up slut by the media kinda goes to his head and makes him far less innerly confident, but on the outside he's more confident than ever. Don't think Vince would use any supprecents or scent blockers of any kind, all omega natural for him.

Beta Vince - Now this is the most interesting Vince dynamic to write I think. Because in a world where alpha's are important and omegas are held on top of a pedestal, betas are just kinda…there and this would drive Vince absolutely insane. Like totally bonkers. Just imagine him going twice as hard as any of his alpha/omega singer friends, desperately trying to stand out, wanting all the praise and reverence his differently classified friends would get and successfully at that. Vince's ego would be huge and small, he would be calm and insane, graceful yet feral. Beta Vince my beloved juxtaposition friend. (I am deranged, I never see anyone write beta Vince and it is clearly the most interesting of all options) Like he would try to pick more fights then alpha Vince just to prove that he is still worthwhile, even though his classification is not worthwhile.

Alpha Tommy - Tommy does strictly think with his dick, so this checks out. Similar to alpha Vince I think Tommy would use the gize of being an alpha to be an absolute tool. The one dangerous thing about alpha Tommy though is that he falls in love so quickly and he would totally claim the first girlfriend he ever had and then regret it and then just be stuck bonded to a random girl he dated once like…forever 💀

Omega Tommy - Gets claimed by the first alpha who he falls for and regrets it. Omega Tommy would never take any heat supplements and sees his heat as a mini fuck vacation. If Tommy can avoid getting claimed by every person he falls into bed with and manages to not get knocked up, I think he'd really enjoy being an omega. He doesn't have any of the innate omegan shame that I think all the other guys would have as omegas.

Beta Tommy - This would just be Tommy normally, but with the added bonus of not being educated on dynamics really because he's a beta and therefore didn't think it was important for him to pay attention in health class, so like if one of the guys where to go into heat at an inconvenient time he'd just be like ??? “Can't you like…hold it in??”

Alpha Nikki - With him being the band leader low key him being an alpha makes sense to me in the sense that Nikki is in control of a lot of Mötley's output as a band music and press wise. He's a control freak and being an alpha would go well for him since he'd have an excuse to be bossy all the time, with the added effect of people actually listening to him. Nikki would love being an alpha I'm sure, that being said, I don't think this is the best fit for him personally. Uses being an alpha as an excuse to be feral.

Omega Nikki - this is the guy that has the most omega shame of all the guys I think. Like he'd take an insane amount of supprecents and scent blockers and stuff. He wouldn't trust anyone to help him through his heats, and I think for the longest time he wouldn't tell the band, not until he really needed to at least. Nikki hates being out of control and looked down upon. Being an omega would be really hard on his already bad self image in the 80s.

Beta Nikki - Just normal Nikki, he would not understand other classifications needs but he respects them and tries to accommodate them as much as he can without sacrificing his own comfort.

Alpha Mick - Mick is naturally an alpha I think. A very calming dominating presence in a way that doesn't overwhelm a lot of people like the other guys as alpha's would. He's just a very safe feeling. Mick is good Alpha material in my mind. I do think he'd have trouble asserting himself if there are multiple alpha's in a room though, Mick hates confrontation and so he tries to stay out of it as much as possible.

Omega Mick - Now this is an interesting thought, Mick as an omega is (like beta Vince) one of those juxtapositions that would just be fascinating because usually omegas are soft around the edges, submissive and traditionally more and feminine and here comes omega Mick, dominant, rough and crass. A lot of alpha's who are interested in him think he's playing hard to get but he is just genuinely not interested. He wouldn't be omega Nikki levels of insane about blockers but I think he'd wear a cologne that covered his scent up. I also think growing up as an omega would have made Mick even more overly passive, which I didn't think was possible.Anyway, live, laugh and love this idea.

Beta Mick - Makes the most sense in my opinion. Mick is pretty much the best person in the band to give this classification to. He himself is a true neutral in every situation and he can bring the balance like this (not that he can't in other dynamics, it just is a betas professional to keep the peace between the other two dynamics). Beta Mick makes alot of sense and is very accurate to who he is as a person. Also he'd hate to get heats and ruts, so really this pick would be for the best.

Okay, I'm tired now going to bed, but drop your thoughts on me in the comments or just write Starry your a cunt in my inbox with your own opinions on this matter along with it , I'd love to see that :)

[taomyou]

The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 20

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 8.7k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking (A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!) Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

the moon and

Levi - 6:37 PM

I’m not taking the bus on Friday, no need to wait up for me

Levi sighs as he slips his phone back into his pocket after sending the text, and he crosses his arms as he looks back up at the presentation on the board.

To put it simply, Levi hates a lot of things.

He hates when people point out how weirdly he holds his teacup, he hates when Isabel forgets to do the laundry, and he hates when Hange is behind the wheel of the vehicle he’s in.

Hate is a strong word, though, so he can settle for “strong dislike” to describe his feelings for those things if he has to.

But if there’s anything Levi hates, it’s faculty meetings.

On paper, they’re not so bad.

They only happen twice a year, at the end of each semester, and they’re not supposed to go for any longer than 45 minutes. The presenter is the department chair, and Levi is on decent-enough terms with him.

And despite the fact that he’s only ever been to one of these things before, Levi knows he fucking hates them.

The meeting itself is boring. The department chair, bless his heart, speaks at practically four syllables a minute, and Levi is too respectful to just take out his phone in the middle of the presentation. The information being presented at this “important” mandatory faculty meeting could very well be condensed into a single email, and Levi’s sure that this “meeting” is just a social event in disguise.

Also, because Levi never attends anything that isn’t mandatory, everyone decides that when he does show up, they’re going to swarm him with all the questions in the world.

The older faculty members try hooking him up with their daughters, under the impression that someone like Levi is just dying to settle down, and everyone else either asks him for help in furthering their own careers or how to get their Rate My Professor scores as high as his. That or they ask him very personal questions that he doesn’t want to answer. Maybe that’s why he was able to handle your father so well.

But worst of all: they always announce an end-of-term event.

It’s apparently a Sina University tradition for the architectural studies department to go on a mandatory outing with everyone on the staff.

Something about “bonding” and “trust-building,” whatever that fucking means.

Last semester, it was Shadis’ turn to decide what the event was, and he chose a day out ziplining. Levi somehow managed to weasel his way out of it, having cited the “fact” that he’s allergic to the very specific variant of grass in the forest they were headed to (he is most definitely not allergic to grass, specific variant or otherwise).

This time, it’s Pixis’ turn to decide where to go, and he announces that the staff will all be going to Sina’s Kitchen for dinner. There’s no grass in a restaurant, though, so Levi can’t weasel his way out of this one and has to at least pretend to listen as Pixis announces the details.

The day Pixis chooses for this mandatory dinner? Friday, June 23rd.

As much as Levi already couldn’t give less of a shit about going to dinner with his annoying, nosy coworkers, having this be on such short notice makes Levi care just enough to be angry. Can it even be considered a dinner if it’s starting at 4 in the fucking afternoon?

And did Pixis really have to choose a Friday? For fucks sake, now he has to cancel lecture, which means he won’t be on campus on Friday, which means he won’t be taking the bus with you on Friday.

Levi already went across town yesterday to pick up a pre-ordered tin of midsummer raspberry tea for you. The website advertised the tea as a premium summer blend, and with the end of spring having already passed, Levi figured it’d be a good way to mark that transition.

Not that he cares that much about the seasons enough to know that on his own—it’s just that lately, Hange’s been mouthing off about how great summer’s going to be, and they never shut up about how June 21st was the Summer Solstice.

But anyway, Levi knows that holding onto the tea for longer than he originally intended is going to make him unnecessarily antsy for the moment he gets to see you again.

Not that he doesn’t already constantly feel that way in-between the fleeting Fridays that the two of you share and the miscellaneous chance meetings he has with you every-so-often, but he’s just going to ignore that for sake of finding justification in his heightened dislike towards his colleague.

In the middle of Pixis explaining how the faculty dinner will go, Levi feels a buzz in his pocket, and because he’s too upset at the scheduling to give more of a shit about what’s being said and because he thinks it’s you responding, he pulls out his phone underneath the table and checks who’s texting him.

He’s pretty disappointed to see that it’s just Erwin.

Ugh, he hates texting this bastard. Why’s he always so passive aggressive with his punctuation?

Erwin - 6:40 PM

Are you free Saturday evening?

Well, at least it’s not Hange. Erwin’s plans aren’t nearly as chaotic as theirs.

Levi - 6:41 PM

Sure Why?

Erwin - 6:41 PM

My firm is having a party on Saturday, I’d like you to come.

Levi - 6:41 PM

Why the fuck would I go to one of your work parties?

Erwin - 6:42 PM

Your dear friend is getting promoted, you should come celebrate!

Levi scoffs.

Levi - 6:42 PM

Don’t you make enough money? What business do you have making even more?

Erwin - 6:43 PM

I’m flattered you consider me a dear friend. But you should come! Astraea and our other friends will be there.

At the mention of you, Levi can’t help but let the corners of his lips turn up.

Well, at least if you’re there, you and him can be wallflowers together. Maybe you can even help him put faces to the names of the people you tell him about when you’re talking about workplace drama.

The faculty lady sitting next to Levi notices that he’s smiling at his phone and leans over to try and sneak a peek of what’s on his screen, but when he notices that she’s coming closer, he glares daggers at her. She pulls away quickly and apologetically, and Levi gets back to Erwin.

Levi - 6:45 PM

Okay, I’ll be there

Erwin - 6:46 PM

Excellent! Dress fancy. It's at 5:00 PM.

Before Levi puts his phone away again, he checks to see if you’ve replied yet. When he sees that you’ve read the message and just didn’t reply, he assumes that it’s because you’re busy getting dinner ready and your hands aren’t free enough to type back a response, and he puts his phone back in his pocket to listen to what else needs to be said in this mess of a meeting.

Just like last time, as soon as the actual meeting part is over, he’s swarmed. From every direction, there’s someone begging Levi to agree to a date with their niece, another trying to get Levi alone to talk about his freelance work, and someone else asking if he’s free for a date with them.

And even though the night is both boring and chaotic and the stupid faculty dinner completely throws off his plans of taking the bus on Friday, he can’t help but feel properly compensated by the fact that he’ll get to see you again on Saturday.

✰

By the time Levi’s able to escape the conference room he’s been trapped in for the last three hours, it’s almost 8 PM, and Levi has to run to catch the last bus of the day.

Somehow, he gets there with five minutes to spare, and because it’s so late in the day, there’s nobody else waiting at the bus stop. When he gets on, there’s nobody other than the bus driver who looks more tired than Levi does.

There’s no rush as Levi takes his time getting out his wallet, scanning his fare card, putting it back, and zipping it back into the front pocket of his backpack.

And yet, despite the relative unfamiliarity of this particular night, when he goes to take his usual seat on the bus, he can’t help but continually look over to his right, thinking that the seat feels empty without you next to him.

When he gets home and gets the water to fill his kettle, his brain short-circuits, immediately changing gears to think about whether or not you would like the tea he picked out for you this week.

When he stays up late to finish up with the paperwork he couldn’t finish during the day, he can’t help but feel like you would’ve scolded him for bringing it home with him in the first place.

All throughout the night, though, Levi can’t help but be concerned about the fact you never texted him back. He knows that you’ve already read the message, and you're normally very quick to respond when he sends his tea ratings every other week.

It’s weird, because instead of completely ignoring his phone like the week following the night he fell asleep at your place, Levi’s practically stuck to it like glue.

Every second of every waking moment, Levi keeps his phone close to him, constantly checking if you’ve gotten back to him. He restarts his phone every other hour to make sure that the operating system is up-to-date, and he texts his own number to make sure that his phone is able to receive messages.

Fuck, during lecture on Thursday, he even keeps his phone notifications set to “sound” so that he won’t miss it if you do text him.

Isabel and Furlan notice that something’s wrong near immediately, but it isn’t until Friday when Levi’s getting ready to leave the house that the two force Levi to come sit at their shared dining room table and spill his heart out to them at gunpoint.

Unfortunately for them, Levi doesn’t even know if he has a heart to begin with.

“Get off my fucking back, it’s nothing.”

Furlan sighs. “Dude, there is clearly something bothering you.”

“Yeah, this is worse than when you weren’t using your phone.”

Levi scrunches his nose to feign annoyance, but his breath momentarily hitches in his throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“We’re not stupid. Literally nobody bought your whole ‘I just didn’t want to use my phone’ bullshit.”

Fuck. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever, man, but at least hand over your phone while you get ready,” Furlan demands. “You can’t put on a suit with one hand, can you?”

“I’ll do whatever I want.”

“Levi!” Isabel groans. “You can’t keep doing this! Are you, like, waiting for a text or something?”

Levi awkwardly purses his lips before opening his mouth to speak, but no words come out.

“Holy shit, you are.”

“I never said that,” Levi huffs, pushing himself up from his seat. He takes his phone out of his pocket and slides it across the table to Furlan. “There.”

Levi all but stomps back to his room to finish putting on his suit, making sure that he looks presentable enough for the crowd of faculty that’s going to inevitably examine every detail of his outfit, and he slips past the dining room straight for the shoe rack.

As he’s lacing them up, he hears the footsteps of Isabel and Furlan as they make their way to the couch. Isabel’s holding out his phone to him from her spot on the couch, so he struts over to get it before he leaves.

“Hey, don’t worry about it too much, yeah?” Furlan advises. “I’m sure she’s just busy.”

“She’s always busy,” Levi frowns. “And how the fuck do you know who it is?”

Isabel and Furlan look to each other, unsure of whether or not they want to test Levi’s patience right now.

“We don’t,” Isabel says, waving him off. “Have fun at your dinner.”

Levi rolls his eyes as he goes to open the door, feeling at his pocket to make sure he has his wallet with him. “I won’t, but thanks.”

When Levi closes the door behind him, the two friends let out an exasperated sigh and sink further into the plush sofa.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

“To be fair, I’d be pretty stressed if I were him,” Furlan muses. “He usually sees her on Fridays, right?”

Isabel readjusts herself on the couch to get a better look at her friend. “He does?”

Thinking back to the note from you that Isabel found in Levi’s wallet, she starts putting together the pieces.

Is that what you meant when you wrote the bit about not paying you back on Friday? Come to think of it, the assortment of tea in the kitchen just keeps growing and growing, and Isabel knows that Levi isn’t stupid enough to buy all of that on his own.

He snorts. “Yeah, it’s the only day of the week he puts gel in his hair.”

“I’m always out of the house earlier than he is on Fridays, but have you ever seen him bring anything with him?”

“I guess? Sometimes he takes a box of tea with him, he asks me to make sure that it doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

Yep, that explains it.

God, you’re just as much of a loser as Levi is if your love language is just constantly giving and receiving containers of tea.

“You know, I remember Astraea saying that she doesn’t really drink caffeine.”

“When was that?” Furlan asks. “Was I there?”

“It was when we called her for help at the grocery store! You know, when we were getting ingredients for the egg tarts.”

“Oh yeah! I remember now, that was forever ago!” He exclaims. “So you think he brings it for her?”

“Yeah, and she probably gives some to him too. Like, they take turns.”

Furlan looks over towards the counter space where Levi keeps all the tea. “Explains why we have so much of it in the house.”

Isabel sighs and rolls over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “I really like her, I hope he figures out what’s going on between them. Don’t you think it’s weird, though, that he’s kept it up for so long?”

“What do you mean?”

Isabel covers her eyes from the lights with her forearm, moving around to get more comfortable. “Levi doesn’t really care about paying people back that much,” she says. “Well, he does, but he doesn’t let it happen again after the first time.”

Furlan hums to himself. “You remember that one architectural basics class he made me take with him?”

Isabel nods, her arm still over her face. “Yeah, you dropped it after, like, a week. Why’re you bringing it up now?”

He shrugs. “Before I dropped out, the professor talked a lot about repayments and shit, and how you have to keep track of all the stuff you do for people.”

“So? I don’t think he’s constantly getting her tea just because one professor told him to act like a fucking debt collector in his professional relationships.”

“Hey!” Furlan exclaims. “Don’t put words in my mouth, I never said that! But anyway, he’d say some shit like, ‘oh, if you need to meet with a client, then you can just pull up their reimbursement sheet and use that as an excuse to see them.’ Sounds like what Levi’s doing right now.”

“That’s a lot of unsolicited work advice for a basics class,” Isabel laughs. “But that does sound right! I wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing that?”

Furlan chuckles. “He probably isn’t, but I think once he figures out why he always wants to see her, he’ll be fine.”

A lightbulb turns on in Isabel’s head. “Wait, that actually makes so much sense! She’s a lawyer, and I’m, like, pretty sure that the same concept exists for her too! She’s probably doing the same thing!”

Furlan nods in agreement. “We’re fucking geniuses, aren’t we?”

“We really are!” Isabel cheers, extending out her arms. “Ugh, but they better hurry it up. I’m so sick of watching them dance around each other all the time.”

“I mean, at least they’re dancing together, right? It’s cute, even if it is kinda pathetic.”

“I guess you’re right,” Isabel muses. “It’s okay! I’m sure things will all work out soon enough.”

Furlan looks over at the teas again, all neatly lined up on their kitchen’s countertop, and he smiles gently. “Something tells me it will.”

✰

Levi drives to Sina’s Kitchen with a newfound desire to have the time move faster.

His housemates are wrong. There’s nothing wrong with him being worried about you not texting him back. There’s no hidden romantic undertones to this.

It’s not a big deal for him to be worried.

People ignore their phones for tons of reasons, and Levi just can’t shake away the feeling that there’s something wrong for you to not have responded to his text yet.

He’s allowed to worry, even if it might not be a big deal. For all he knows, you could be ignoring his phone for all the same reasons he did, way back in April.

Though, he can’t imagine what it is about any of your recent interactions that would make you nervous enough to avoid your phone entirely.

But nevermind that, he needs time to move faster so that he can ask you about it tomorrow. All he has to get through between now and then is one measly dinner.

After Levi parks his car and steps into the lobby, it’s already full with the rest of the staff and other restaurant-goers. He keeps to himself, standing off to the side while everyone around him talks, and soon enough, a waiter calls together the party of 40-something people to take them to their tables.

Levi recognizes Marco and nods to him as he passes by, and Marco smiles back at him in return.

Because there’s not enough tables, Marco tells everyone that someone will have to sit alone at the two-person booth that’s close enough to where everyone else is, and Levi volunteers because he’ll do literally anything to avoid contact with the rest of the people there. Everyone chimes in with their thanks for his “sacrifice,” and Marco’s kind enough to offer him another smile for it.

It’s pure coincidence that the booth Levi’s seated at is the one he shared with you on Valentine’s Day.

Unfortunately, it isn’t a coincidence that Pixis “feels bad” for Levi and chooses to sit down across from him.

Marco and a couple other waiters comes back eventually to get everyone’s drink orders, and because it’s near instinct at this point, Levi asks for a paper napkin in addition to his tea. When Marco comes back with the familiar navy blue squares, Levi thanks him, and he gets to tearing at the soft paper to try and make a star on his own.

“What’re you up to, Ackerman?” Pixis asks from across the table. When Levi gives no response, the man laughs. “Chatty as ever, huh?”

Levi looks up and nods apologetically. “Sorry.”

“No worries, I can see how talking to a man as accomplished as myself would be intimidating for an industry rookie like you,” he gloats, leaning back into the plush of the booth seat.

Levi laughs dryly before looking back down at the strip of paper in his hands again. “Yeah, definitely.”

Fuck, how did you do this part again?

“What’s that you’re making?”

Levi thinks for a second before just plainly giving up and telling him. Pixis isn’t going to stop asking anyway; might as well give him the answer he wants now.

“A star.”

“Really? I never would’ve been able to guess!”

At the sudden increase in volume, Levi accidentally rips the paper.

Great, he has to start over again.

Marco and several other waiters come back with drinks for everyone, interrupting Pixis’ attempts to get Levi to talk to him, and Levi takes a sip of his tea before going back to his napkin and starting another star.

He’s mostly unsuccessful.

He does the beginning steps just fine—loop, tie, flatten, fold, tuck. When he gets to pinching the corners, though, he just can’t do it. He always needs you to reposition his fingers in the right spot for him to ever get it right, and tonight isn’t any different.

His pockets fill with the smushed paper disasters that can’t become stars, and he repeats the process several more times only to fail again.

It isn’t until he just blocks out the rest of the noise and pretends that it’s you across from him instead of the old geezer he has to call his colleague that he finally gets it.

He gently rolls the star between his fingers, afraid that it’ll deflate if he’s any rougher with it, and he comes back to reality by the time he puts the trinket away in his pocket.

“...and why can’t summer classes just be in person? You work at a world-class institution for 20 years, and you’d think they have the decency to let you know these things ahead of time.”

Wait, summer classes?

“What’re you talking about?” Levi cuts in. He already applied to teach on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays, just as he has been for the last year; he thought the schedules were already set in stone for the coming summer session.

Pixis turns to him. “You didn’t get the email?”

Levi’s frantic in racking his brain, trying to remember if he did ever get an email about this, but his mind draws a blank. He shakes his head.

“You and everyone else here,” Pixis sighs, taking a sip from his old-fashioned before getting back to Levi. “The dean forgot to email everyone in our department, but the campus is closing down for repairs this summer.”

The campus is closing down?

Wait, but then that means that—

“You good, Ackerman?”

Levi’s quick to nod his head, clearing his throat behind his fist to avoid raising any issue. “Yeah.”

“But yes, a friend of mine over in the engineering department told me about it a while ago over drinks at my apartment, but it slipped my mind until now,” Pixis laments while swirling his glass. “I’d just cancel classes entirely if it were up to me.”

The rest of the people around them agree with the man, nodding and chiming in with their own opinions, but Levi?

Truthfully, Levi couldn’t care less about the change.

His lesson plans have always been accommodating of students who can’t physically show up to lectures. If anything, not having to physically go to lectures would be more convenient for him—his lessons are already recorded, and all he would have to do is host office hours, grade assignments, and answer emails.

Summer classes aren't even active for another month; he has plenty of time to get the logistics sorted out.

Levi isn’t worried like the rest of his technologically-challenged coworkers are.

And yet, while Levi watches his colleagues animatedly voice their disdain for the newly uprooted summer plans, Levi’s head spins, worry coursing through his veins. The worries about you not texting him back leave his consciousness completely, and now they’re replaced with this.

He should be happy.

Having to teach is what got him here in the first place—he didn’t even want to come here. He’d rather be doing literally anything else right now, and he would’ve skipped if it weren’t for the fact that this was literally for his job.

But having to teach is what got him here. Sure, it’s in this seat where he’s uncomfortably forced to be amongst other members of faculty, but it’s still where he’s been sitting for the last half-hour, tearing at and folding the familiar navy blue paper napkin. Where he choked on his water, having seen you on Valentine’s Day instead of Erwin. Where he first got to truly know you as you.

Where he first got to properly see you smile.

No, not one of those fake smiles that you have to offer people when you’re at work or when you’re meeting someone new for the first time. Not the smile that you hide behind a napkin or your hand.

No.

It was the kind of smile that reaches your eyes and fills them with all the lights in the sky.

He’s grateful that Marco made for a comfortable buffer that night to keep you from noticing the red that burnt the tips of his ears, because in that brief fleeting moment, he finally realized how you got your namesake.

Levi took that Greek mythology course with Hange, way back then in undergrad. They probably forgot when they introduced you, but he definitely didn’t.

He actually thought it was pretty funny when he found out you were a lawyer, Astraea being the virgin goddess of justice and all. Her being known as the Star Maiden amongst the other Greek beings also made your little habit of making paper stars just that tiny bit more endearing than it already was.

But when he saw you smile, truly, for the first time, he realized it was much more than just that.

He swears he saw stars in your eyes in that moment, and he couldn’t tear himself away even when you turned away to get your wallet out to try and pay for dinner.

All of a sudden, the paper star—the one he just made—feels heavy in his pocket, and it threatens to pull him down with it.

Suddenly, he wants time to slow down. He wants it to grant him more opportunities to think about what he can do to try and salvage the remnants of the routine he’s grown into, to grant him more opportunities to think about you without these new worries.

In the present, people are still talking to him, but his mouth is on autopilot, forming answers to questions that go in one ear and out the other. When a waiter comes back with his meal, Levi eats it quietly and without hunger, lost in his own mind as he thinks about you.

Somehow, time moves even faster now than it did earlier, and he’s suddenly driving, weaving through highway and suburban streets to get home. He isn’t stupid—he isn’t going to let himself drive recklessly and fucking crash—but he’d probably take that paramount feeling of doom over what he’s about to experience when his mind doesn’t have anything to hold onto.

When he gets home, Isabel and Furlan are already fast asleep, and all the lights in the house have been turned off.

The light of the moon leaking in through the windows is more than enough to let Levi comfortably find his way around the house, though, so he doesn’t bother flipping the lightswitch back on.

After he takes off his shoes and sets his wallet down on the table, he walks over to his kettle, fills it with water, and pushes the button to get it started. He leans on the countertop, elbows comfortably on the stone surface, and he stares at the assortment of teas that line the space.

To some degree, they all blend together.

Not because he doesn’t care about tea anymore. No, definitely not.

The day that Levi stops caring about tea is the day the world stops spinning.

It’s just that… somewhere along the way, it wasn’t about tea anymore.

Inevitably, his eyes catch sight of the two yellow canisters, and he finds himself frowning even deeper than usual.

Even though he didn’t have the courage to admit to you that he’s been holding onto all the paper stars that he’s received from you, he thought that he’d at least someday be able to tell you that he appreciates the little trinkets more than he’s ever cared to let on.

After his kettle hisses, he takes both of the dandelion root canisters and brings them with him to the dining table, along with the hot water, a teapot, and a teacup.

Underneath the light of the moon, he uses his nail to peel away the plastic that seals the lid of the newer container, and he gently pours out a few strands of the tea before pouring in some of the hot water. He’s careful not to go too quickly, thinking back to how you burnt your hand doing the same thing.

Underneath the light of the moon, he pushes away the now-warm ceramic pot, and he grabs the other, more weathered yellow canister. He slowly unscrews the lid, and for the first time, he pours out all the stars onto the table, and he counts them to give himself something to occupy his mind while his tea steeps, even if only for the short couple of minutes that it takes him to do that.

Underneath the light of the moon, he counts 143 stars. This first time, Levi thinks that there’s no way that there could be that many, even if you sometimes manage to make three or four of them from the receipts that you fold, so he recounts them.

Underneath the light of the moon, he counts 143 stars a second time, this time by pushing the stars into groups of 14 groups of 10, which leaves 3 stars left without a group. This time, Levi thinks that there’s no way that he just happened to decide to count all of these out at the 143 mark, so he recounts them.

Underneath the light of the moon, he counts 143 stars a third time, this time by moving the stars into 13 groups of 11, which leaves no stars without a group. This time, Levi thinks that the universe is messing with him because there’s no way that 143 is both the total count of these stars and the number of the bus you take together.

Underneath the light of the moon, he decides that he should stop questioning the count, and he just quietly gathers them all up in one big pile before carefully putting them back into the canister, one by one. Even though he’s accepted that there’s 143 of them, he still counts the stars as he puts them back in, but he loses count right after he gets to 30.

Underneath the light of the moon, he pulls the teapot back towards him and pours himself a cup of dandelion root tea, and he turns to look outside his window at the celestial bodies that taunt him, egging him on to stay awake and think about his current circumstances.

So he will.

Underneath the light of the moon, Levi’s mind wanders back to thoughts about the bus.

If he doesn’t take the bus anymore, he won’t be able to have that anymore—those short thirty minutes of quiet, where it seems like the world only exists to pass him by through the window.

Sure, he could just take the bus just for the sake of seeing you, but that’s not exactly the most conscionable thing to do, especially considering the fact that he would have to lie about what he did at work if he did that.

And sure, he could still see you whenever he wanted. It's not like he needs the bus to keep seeing you.

But... that wouldn't be the same.

It's routine at this point for him to see you every Friday. He said it himself—that he didn't want to lose this, and he’s sure that you don’t either.

God, what kind of idiot gets emotional about taking the fucking bus?

There’s no tears for him to wipe away.

It isn’t the end of the world that he doesn’t get to take the bus with you anymore. He still has plans to go out shopping for Isabel’s graduation with you, and Hange will definitely still drag you and him out to events together, and he’ll still be “forced” to sit next to you and watch as you fold the napkins into neat little stars.

And yet, as he continues taking sips from his cup and pouring himself more of the warm tea, the frown on his face just continues to deepen, and he can’t find any happiness to help uplift him.

Underneath the light of the moon, Levi accidentally reaches for the canister of stars in front of him instead of his teapot, but instead of putting it back down, he stares down into it. He tilts it so that the opening can have a bit more moonlight shining into it, and he remembers the star he made just a few hours ago—the one that burns a hole into his pocket. He takes it out before it can do any more damage, and he holds it up to the light to see it properly.

Underneath the light of the moon, Levi can’t help but think that his own star pales in comparison to yours.

The corners aren’t crisp and clean, the sides aren’t all the same size, and it isn’t as sturdy as yours are.

For a brief moment, he wishes that you’d somehow appear next to him and ask him to trade his own star for one of yours, all because you think his is cuter than yours.

And underneath the light of the moon, Levi gets up and leaves everything at the table.

He doesn’t bother putting the lid back on either canister. He doesn’t bother cleaning his tableware. He doesn’t bother putting his own ugly, misshapen star back into his pocket. He doesn’t bother pushing his chair back in properly after he turned it away to look aimlessly out the windows where moonlight and starlight leak in.

His body moves on its own, taking him to the bathroom and stripping himself of his clothes. He steps into the shower, turns on the faucet, and stares at the wall in front of him as the water falls over his head. Somehow, his arms move to apply soap to his body and shampoo to his scalp, and he dries himself off with a towel he doesn’t even remember bringing with him.

He somehow gets dressed and ready for bed, and he somehow has the clearance to put his suit on a hanger and put it on his bedroom’s doorknob to remind himself to put it away tomorrow.

With whatever’s left of his mind, he recollects himself and thinks to check his phone for a message from you. His resolve is cut short when he sees that you haven’t gotten back to him, but maybe that’s for the better.

He wouldn’t know what to say to you anyway.

Which is why he won’t go to that party at your firm tomorrow.

No, he can’t face you like this.

Besides, you wouldn’t miss him. You’ll probably be busy talking to your friends or folding stars for one of them at the snack table.

It isn’t a big deal. Erwin doesn’t need him there. He has enough charisma to find someone else to celebrate his promotion.

Yeah, Levi won’t go.

Still, he can’t keep his eyes closed for the life of him as he tries to drift off to sleep.

Still, he focuses all of his attention onto that to prevent himself from thinking about whatever he had to think about under the light of the moon.

And still, he doesn’t do a great job of that, because the moon continues to shine pale white light onto the paper stars that're on his dining room table, whether he wants to acknowledge that or not.

✰

When Levi gets up the next day, he feels just as lost, if not more so.

He knows that he can’t just lay in bed all day—he’s too restless for that, and he’s afraid that staying cooped up will just make this all worse.

After brushing his teeth and using the bathroom, he steps out into the kitchen, expecting no one to be there.

Apparently, though, he’s lost his touch in guessing these sorts of things, because Isabel’s already up and mumbling to herself as she digs through the fridge. He notices that there’s nothing left on the dining table, and the chair’s been put back correctly. His eyes dart towards the counter space, and he relaxes when he sees the two yellow canisters in their rightful places.

Upon hearing Levi’s footsteps, Isabel turns to look at him.

“You’re in an awfully bad mood today,” says Isabel.

“What makes you think I’m in a bad mood?” Levi barks, walking past her and to the kettle.

She sighs. “Forget it.” She closes the fridge and joins Levi at the tea space. “What tea are you drinking today?”

“Since when do you care about what I drink?” Looking between the neatly placed assortment of teas and his kettle, he sighs before turning to go back to his room to get changed. “I’m going for a run.”

Isabel doesn’t say anything as he leaves the kitchen, instead opting to remain silent, and when he’s back in their shared living space, she’s poking at her breakfast of toast and eggs with a fork.

She gives him a lazy wave when he looks back at her from the doorway. “Have fun.”

He nods. “Yeah, sure.”

And just like that, he’s off and running (literally).

He has no sense of direction as his legs carry him around the neighborhood, but he still appreciates the reprieve in thought that his burning muscles give him.

It’s been a while since his last run, though, and he forgets how much he hates it.

He loses track of time quickly, not that he was checking for it in the first place. After a good several miles of running, he takes a quick break at a bench facing the bus stop he ordinarily gets off at. Bus 143 comes and goes as he waits there, but he makes sure to signal to the driver that he doesn't need to get on.

The gust of wind that the bus leaves behind when it drives off reminds Levi of all the times he’s wished that he could’ve stayed on the bus with you for just a few moments longer.

Somehow, after a bit more running, Levi finds himself at the bakery of the grocery store on Rose. He stares aimlessly at the rows of pastries that line the glass shelves, and he just barely takes note of the brown-haired baker that hums to herself as she maneuvers through the section.

“Oh, hey!” She exclaims, snapping him out of his staring. “Aren’t you Levi?”

Levi pauses for a second, trying to think of how the baker knows his name. She’s quite young so Levi guesses that she could be one of his students, but he certainly would’ve remembered if he saw a student at the grocery store of all places. He frequents this place often enough, but he just doesn't ever really bother going to this section.

She does look really familiar, though, it’s just that Levi can’t remember where he’s seen her before.

Before he can say anything, though, she laughs. “You are, huh?”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

She hums to herself, moving to pull the cart of cakes closer to where she is. “Probably not, but I’m friends with Astraea, I sat with her at our friends’ law school graduation. She was just here, actually.”

“She was?”

The girl nods, brows furrowed in concentration as she carefully picks up a cake to put into the display case. “Yeah, came and got a ‘3’ birthday candle. No idea why, though.”

It’s been three years since Erwin’s last promotion, so Levi makes the fast connection that you’re picking it up as something for the party tonight.

“There’s a party tonight, it’s probably for that.”

The girl frowns. “She looked pretty upset for someone going to a party.”

Levi blinks. “She looked upset?”

“I don’t really know her that well, actually, I just see her whenever she comes through here. My friend is her assistant at work, though, and she mentioned that Astraea’s been kinda off in the last couple of days,” she starts, going to pick up another cake. “Wait, you don’t know what’s wrong? Aren’t you her boyfriend?”

Levi blinks again. “What? No.”

At the mere mention of it, Levi’s heart wants to go into cardiac arrest.

The baker looks at him quizzically before shrugging and getting another cake into the case. “If you say so. You should try finding her to cheer her up, though.”

He’d do that if he knew what to say to you.

Fuck, even if he didn’t, he’d do that if he wasn’t so wrapped up in his own head.

“Okay,” is the verbal answer he settles on.

He never gets the name of the baker you’re apparently friends with because he all but runs out of the store.

Well, not actually. It’d be really awkward for him to run in a grocery store as a grown adult.

But he feels like he’s running.

Away from mentions of you, away from things that remind him of you, away from his feelings about you, away from his feelings for you.

His legs eventually catch up with his mind and they start taking larger, faster strides until he’s actually running, and in the brief moment of clarity before his jog turns into a full sprint, he justifies his running away from all things of you by telling himself that there’s no stopping it anyway.

He takes the long way home, running around every block that he possibly can to keep himself busy with something, anything. By the time he’s back at his house, the burning of his legs reaches up towards his torso and his upper body, and the feeling overwhelms him and boils over, and he tells himself that the tears that well up are there because of the sweat that’s gotten into his eyes.

When Levi steps inside, he’s still entirely out of breath as he stalks over to the dining room table. He puts his head in his hands as he vies for the oxygen to reach his tired lungs, but he still presses his palms into the sockets of his eyes to stop himself from actually crying.

He’s so stuck in his head that he completely misses sight of Isabel in the kitchen, humming to herself as she opens the oven to pull out the brownies she’s made while he was gone. He doesn’t even notice she’s there until she puts the hot pan on the table in front of him and the smell overwhelms his senses.

“Hey, you okay?”

Levi sniffles and blinks hard a couple of times, feigning irritation in place of sadness. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Isabel takes off the bulky oven mitts that’re on her hands and heads over to the cupboards to pull out a knife, two forks, and two plates—one for herself, and one for Levi. When she comes back, she tries cutting into the sweet between them, but because it’s still too warm, she puts the knife down on one of the plates before sitting down across from her friend.

“What’s wrong, Levi?”

He scoffs, once again feigning annoyance. “I already said nothing’s wrong, stop asking.”

"Are you going to that party tonight? Hange called me earlier to ask."

"No, I'm not."

"And why not?"

He scrunches his nose. "I just don't want to."

Isabel sighs, propping up her head with her hand. “You know you’re an idiot, right?”

“Sounds rich coming from you,” he rolls his eyes. Upon realizing his mistake, he winces and purses his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, I know,” she waves him off halfheartedly. “But really. You’re an idiot.”

Levi groans through short breaths meant to refill his lungs with enough air to speak. “You do realize that you’re talking to someone with a master’s degree, right?”

Isabel rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think having a master’s in architecture makes you an expert on love.”

Love? What the fuck is she on right now?

When Levi doesn’t speak, she continues.

“I saw the note in your wallet. The one Astraea wrote.”

“You fucking what?”

Levi wants to storm out. He wants to get up from his chair, rush back to his room, and lock himself in there for the next couple of days to make a statement about not looking at his things.

But instead, Levi can’t even find the words to chew Isabel out. He just looks down awkwardly at his lap, trying to come up with justification for the writing on the small sheet.

Isabel shoots him a sympathetic smile before looking out the window and towards the late afternoon sunlight that seeps into their house. “I don’t know what’s got you so worried, but if I interpreted the note she left you correctly, then-”

“We didn’t sleep together,” he cuts in, looking straight at her.

Isabel stares back at him with just as much intensity until she suddenly bursts out laughing, throwing her head back and hitting her head against the wooden top of the chair.

Levi watches in mild fear and alarming embarrassment as he waits for her to finish laughing, and it doesn’t help that she takes her sweet time getting back to him.

“Yeah, I know,” she smiles. “You can’t even admit to yourself that you like her, why would I think you guys slept together?"

Levi gets over his embarrassment pretty quickly to defend himself. "What the fuck are you talking about? I don't like her."

Isabel mockingly tuts, waving her finger in his face. "I know you do, everyone else knows you do, it's just you who's left."

Levi sinks down further into his seat, not knowing what to say.

"Actually, now that I think about it, you probably don't like her."

Levi breathes a sigh of relief. "That's what I fucking thou-"

"You love her."

Levi feels the air in his lungs leave his body, and all of a sudden, his body's on fire. His tongue's caught in his throat, and he has no idea what he's supposed to say to get himself out of this situation.

For some reason, he still can't find it in himself to chew her out or storm away. If it were under any other circumstances, he'd probably just have left a long time ago, but... he just can't.

"No, I don't."

Levi doesn't like you, let alone love you. That's fucking preposterous to suggest.

"Are you sure?" Isabel prods.

Is he sure? He's never been more sure of anything else in his life.

"Yes."

Isabel groans. "Okay, then answer these questions for me."

"Go ahead," he scoffs. "I'm not budging."

"Sure," Isabel smiles gently at him. "Is there anything special about the way you treat her?"

Levi's sure that there's nothing special about the way he treats you.

He looks out for you just like he would any of his other friends—he just happens to be in a better mood when you're around, so he's nicer to you.

He hasn't known you as long as he has everyone else, so he has to be polite to keep up appearances and to make sure that you aren't scared off by his blunt and cold personality.

He makes sure that you're well-rested and safe because you're his friend, and that's just what friends do.

He wouldn't tolerate shrimp fried rice jokes from anyone else, but that's not important enough to factor into his answer.

"No."

Isabel raises an eyebrow at that, but she gets up from her chair. Levi lets out a sigh of relief, but he isn't finished with that when he realizes that she's only getting up so that she can cut the brownie in front of them. She hums to herself while she does it, and she sets down a plate of the chocolatey dessert in front of him before getting one for herself.

"Okay, fine, you don't treat her differently than the rest of us, is that what you're saying?"

Levi nods. He picks up the fork set out in front of him to get a bite of the sweet, having ignored his need for food this entire day, and he melts into his chair at the familiar taste.

"Is there anything special about what you do for her, then?"

Levi's sure that there's nothing special about what he does for you.

He'd give any of his friends a ride home. Maybe even a stranger, if they were that in-need of help.

He keeps every single paper star you've ever made for him in a worn-down canister of dandelion root tea because that's what everyone else does. What, is he not allowed to keep small gifts like that anymore? Fucking sue him.

He pays you back because that's what you do for him—that has nothing to do with him.

Sure, he worries about it constantly and always wants to make sure to express that he's grateful for your kindness and care, but that's not important enough to factor into his answer.

"No, there isn't."

Isabel sighs and takes a bit of her own piece of brownie. "If you can't even answer this one correctly, there's no hope for a loser like you."

"Yeah, yeah, just fucking ask so you can leave and get out of my fucking face."

Isabel shrugs while she continues eating. "Then why don't you just get up and go?"

When Levi doesn't respond, she just shakes her head and smiles.

"Uh huh, yep," she chirps. "Okay Mr. 'I have a master's degree in architecture therefore I am the smartest person ever,' is there-"

"I never fucking said that," he barks.

She groans. "Ugh, whatever! Anyway, is there anything special about your feelings for her?"

Answer this one, and Isabel will finally let up?

Yeah, he's got this one in the bag, because Levi's sure that there's nothing special about his feelings for you.

There's nothing special about the warmth that fills his chest when you're around. Absolutely nothing. He's sure that anybody could fill him with that fire—it's not his fault that you're just the only one who's ever been able to do that for him.

There's nothing special about the comfort that you give him. Nope, nope, anybody could have that effect on him if they're gentle enough. If they're kind enough to treat him as well as you do.

There's nothing special that beckons him to be closer to you. Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. He could hug anyone if he wanted to—it isn't his fault that everyone else in his life just isn't as welcoming as you are.

There's nothing special about the small spark that lights up his heart whenever he sees that you're happy. Nope. People being happy is just a universal good. It isn't his fault that seeing you so happy is just more important to him than everything else.

Anyone could have stars in their eyes when they smile. It isn't his fault that you seem to hold the entire galaxy and its lights in your eyes when you laugh.

There is something special, though, about the feeling that comes to him right now, thinking about all of this, and it makes him want to run.

And for the first time, he knows in what direction he has to go.

He clumsily gets up from his seat at the table.

He doesn't bother answering Isabel. He doesn't bother telling her "thank you" for the brownies she just made with the recipe you wrote. He doesn't bother defending himself against the ever-present claim that he's in love with you. He doesn't bother pushing his chair back in, even though it awkwardly gets misplaced and now faces the sun that's low enough on the horizon to be in full-view through their window.

He doesn't bother with any of that.

Instead, he runs, and this time, it's to his room to grab the suit he hung up on his doorknob last night.

✰

Next Chapter

[burnedbyshoto]

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. 

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? 

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

.

.

.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures. 

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity? 

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school. 

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you. 

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green. 

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile. 

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position. 

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet. 

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered. 

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store! 

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year. 

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures. 

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut. 

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath. 

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!” 

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk. 

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that. 

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

 “That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove. 

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again. 

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly. 

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

.

.

.

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine. 

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him. 

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you. 

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises. 

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight. 

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that. 

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food. 

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn. 

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this. 

.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times. 

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile. 

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance. 

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that. 

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later. 

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned. 

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

.

.

“WHAT?!”

.

.

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today. 

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited. 

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders. 

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it. 

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.  

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now. 

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator. 

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way. 

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine. 

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck. 

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing. 

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny. 

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in. 

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours. 

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control. 

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars. 

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips. 

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan. 

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too. 

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him. 

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

.

.

.

.

.

bonus! 

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

[moon3thereal]

Hey, i have a natasha x reader request. So Natasha is a very composed person always know what to do and basically everybody is terrified of the ex-assassin. But when she sees you for the first time she gets so flustered and ends up stuttering over her words, and it doesn’t stop every time she sees you her cheeks will turn red and and don’t know what to do, but it’s worse when you will compliment her or tease her, she will blush so hard when you “accidentally touch her” or throw a suggestive joke at her. The avengers will tease her relentless because of this because she is so lovestruck even in important meetings they will tease her to embarrass her in front of fury. Fluffy ending where reader kisses Nat and a very flustered and happy Nat after.

Title: Forbidden Rendezvous

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none but if you find any do lmk

a/n: thank you for the req! I enjoyed writing this one very much and i hope you guys like it <3

1.4k

Natasha Romanoff, the black widow herself, seemingly had a reputation to uphold. She was cold, ruthless, efficient, her instinct uncannily accurate. In short, she was one of the best agents in S.H.I.E.L.D if not the best. The Avenger was also pretty much the most stone-faced, cold-heartedly composed person in the world. She was a force to be reckoned with

That all went to hell when she met you, it was an avengers meeting, to be acquainted with the newest recruit to the Avengers initiative, all the Avengers had been told was that this recruit was a she and that she was one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s most elite agents and was probably here to babysit them and keep them out of trouble.

Which is why Natasha never expected someone like you to walk into the room, back straight, with the same elegant strut she’d found herself using more often than not. There was an air of composure around you, people could take one look at you and know that they shouldn’t mess with you. You had somehow managed to look daintily pretty but if they looked carefully at your posture, ready to attack should a threat arise, highly dangerous.

Once Natasha’s eyes landed on you, she couldn’t seem to tear them away, she was completely fixated on you, all the way from the door to when you took your place in an unoccupied seat with a bright smile on your lips that were painted just the right shade of red. Natasha studied the way a few strands of your hair fell out of your ponytail and curled around your jaw perfectly, framing your face. The way your lips parted to speak, presumably to introduce yourself, the Russian was put in a trance and there was an awkward silence when it was her turn to introduce herself

Clint, who was sitting next to her, raised an eyebrow at the dreamy look on her face and had to nudge her twice before she jumped slightly, startled and glared at him, he gestured to you and Natasha’s expression of indignation morphed to one of embarrassment and back to her original neutrality. You had noticed Natasha’s lingering stare on you, not the stare you’d seen her use on so many interrogatees and victims of her wrath, this stare was softer, almost like she was captivated by you

After a solid five seconds of Natasha pulling herself together, she extended her hand to you with a soft “hi, Natasha Romanoff” and before you had the chance to introduce yourself, she said “I mean, I’m Natasha Romanoff, you’re y/n y/l/n, I didn’t, I know you’re not Natasha Romanoff” The Avengers all had looks of astonishment on her face, she was always composed, even in the worst situations, none of them had ever seen her like this. Damn you Natasha she thought, she had absolutely no idea why her brain was short circuiting like this, it had never happened before

You laughed lightly before extending your own and shaking hers that was slightly sweaty, “hi, nice to meet you” she nodded, evidently flustered. How can someone be this perfect she thought. She’d seen you training in S.H.I.E.L.D quarters a few times but since she spent most of her time in the Avengers compound now, she’d never seen you up close.

After the meeting, which she hadn’t paid attention to anything else but the crease in your brows when you were concentrating, the way you knew how to disagree without offending the other individual, how intelligent you were, within the 2 hours you had joined the Avengers you had already solved a major problem with ease

It had been a month since that day, you were settled in the compound, you had a room to yourself, and you found it pretty comfortable, you’d gone on a few minor missions, nothing serious. You were already enjoying their company and was getting used to the new environment. But you enjoyed Natasha’s company most, from what you know and what you heard, she was supposed to be an extremely dangerous individual, but around you, she was an absolute klutz and also the most adorable person you’ve met.

All the interactions between you too had always ended up in Natasha blushing furiously and you adoring how her cheeks got all rosy and her face would turn the same fiery red of her hair when you casually threw a suggestive comment her way, basically you both being absolutely whipped for each other and refusing to admit it first

You were hacking into a computer system with Tony’s tech when Steve said “there’s no way you can pull that off, I know, I’ve tried” you simply scoffed, your hands flying over the keyboard typing in several coordinates “I’m y/n y/l/n, I can pull off everything” seizing the opportunity to once again fluster the redhead you pointed at her “including your clothes” just like you predicted, her cheeks immediately flushed red and a panicky chuckle fell from her lips

Steve rolled his eyes “see, according to you, I’m a million year old fossil, but still, even I can see that you are completely and irrevocably in love with her” you had successfully hacked into the system and pumped your fists triumphantly, transferring the information into a hard drive “I never said I wasn’t Rogers” you said sending a wink Natasha’s way and ‘accidentally’ brushing her bare arm lightly with yours as you passed by earning yourself a nervous squeak from her

Even in important meetings, Natasha was often caught giving you heart eyes, like this one right now, Fury was staring at her waiting for her to give him a plethora of solutions like she normally would. This time however, she was busy staring at you and were practically making out with you with her eyes. Fury cast his glance around the avengers silently inquiring as to what happened to his best agent. “she’s infatuated with her new girlfriend” tony said

The abrupt voice snapped Natasha out of her thoughts and she sent him her killer glare “I am not” knowing chuckles reverberated around the meeting room, even you let out a soft laugh at her obliviousness. “Did you know that Romanoff let y/n borrow her motorbike?” Clint said in a faux conspiratory voice. The director’s eyebrows shot up “is that so?” one corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk

“So what if it is, its just a bike” Natasha tried to act nonchalant but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Ah look, the adoptive murder daughter has found love” tony said sarcastically “I will cause you pain in ways you can’t even imagine” Natasha gritted out. Taking pity on her, you snapped your fingers “Okay okay, this has been fun, but back to the tesseract?”

After the meeting, and more relentless teasing, resulting in an extremely irritable Natasha, she had pulled you aside into an empty store room “ooh is this our forbidden rendezvous” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. Even in the dark, you could swear that Natasha was blushing like she always did even if you so much as looked at her

“no this is me apologizing on behalf of the team and what they said back there, it was disrespectful-” catching your quirked eyebrow and look of amusement indicating that you were in fact not at all offended by the team’s teasing and she was the only one amongst all of them that didn’t know you had feelings for her too. Deciding to be bold for once, she smirked “it could be our forbidden rendezvous though”

You smiled and closed the distance between you. You could feel her breath hitch when she noticed how close you were, how she could tilt her head slightly and her lips would meet yours, how much she wanted to feel your lips on hers. So that’s exactly what she did, when your lips touched, it was just like how they described it in books. It ignited something resembling a thunderstorm in you and you couldn’t acknowledge anything else except how her lips felt perfect against yours. You reached to run a hand through her crimson tresses, and when breathing became a difficulty she pulled away, ruffled and lips parted she smiled showing all her impossibly white teeth

“Who knew you were such a good kisser”

“Who knew you would ever get bold enough to find out”

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley @zolvaska @jokertgkk @yeeterthekeeper

[dragonmuse]

Hullo. I just wanted to say, I think the Leda House series is the most joy I’ve got out of fan fiction, ever. I’ve laughed and cried with it. Each character feels so full and real, like you could slip in beside them. I’m wondering (a bit desperately) how you imagine Izzy reacted to Lucius telling him he loved him?

(thank you so much! Here's Izzy's reaction, hope you like it!)

“I love you, Israel Hands. You’re the best goblin asshole boyfriend and I’m proud of you.”

Once, Izzy had been punched so hard in the gut that he hadn’t been able to properly suck in a breath for half an hour. This was worse.  He made some kind of noise. 

“I’m going to hang up," Lucius informed him, "possibly throw up and then come over when I’m human again. K?”

He was going to come over? After that? He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead. Maybe Izzy was going to throw up. That felt like a possibility. 

Before Lucius called, he had been about to go grocery shopping. He had a load of laundry in the wash. The world wasn’t supposed to rock under your feet when you’d just measured out detergent and contemplated whether you should buy turkey sausage instead of pork this week. 

Out of sheer muscle memory, his shoes went on. He pulled the utilitarian reusable shopping bags out from under his sink and mechanically headed out. It was a three block walk that he’d made a hundred times. 

He accidentally walked by the store and had to circle back, too dazed to even curse his own absentmindedness.  By sheer routine, he collected the first few items on his list and then realized he’d been standing in front of the bananas for who knows how long. 

“Get it together,” he muttered to himself. 

It was fine. They were just words. Lucius talked a lot. He’d said a lot of things to Izzy. Most of them unrepeatable in mixed company.  It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d heard it or anything. His mother had definitely said it, even if her actions had never matched. Jonas, his older brother, wasn’t really the type, but he’d dished it out once or twice before the end.  

Faith had. He’d even been pretty sure she meant it.  That had all been a very long time ago. He’d been more lovable then. Probably. Frankly, he was pretty sure he’d been a shitty annoying teenager. 

But Lucius loved this version of him. Whatever bitter remnants he’d scraped off the floor and stuffed into a person suit.  

He managed somehow to finish his shopping and make it back home, but he recalled nothing of the walk. Food went away, ready for tomorrow’s prep. 

Lucius was coming at some point today. He should probably make something. There were rules to cooking. Steps were important. Take steps.  Do... 

No. No. He closed his eyes and took a breath. He stepped away from the kitchen. The godforsaken blanket was there for a reason and if he wanted to duck under it for a few minutes and just process that was okay.  

It felt ridiculous, but Izzy was trying to learn to be okay with ridiculous things. Lucius was an entirely ridiculous thing and the feeling that Izzy had for him, while not ready to be named, was cataclysmically enormous. 

“You know,” Lucius said. Izzy had heard him arrive and decided to stay where he was. He listened to him cross the floor and only opened his eyes when there was a tug on the blanket. “When I said I’d eat an asshole burrito that one time at a frat party, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” 

“What did you have in mind?” Izzy barked a laugh. 

And it was...god, it was good. Good the way Lucius told him his asinine thoughts and inveigled himself under the blanket. Good how he cupped Izzy’s face cupped and kissed him like he might be worth treating with some gentleness. Good to be held and kissed, and praised and...loved. 

“You okay?” There was a tease in Lucius' voice like he could read his mind. It always felt like he could somehow. 

“No,” Izzy said dryly. “I was supposed to get some things done around here today. You threw me off my schedule.” 

“Too bad,” Lucius laughed in his face, but held him tight.  

Hugs were still not his forte, but Izzy thought he could handle this one just fine. 

[moonlit-han]

nxt 2 u: mornings with stray kids ↠ all members

genre: imagine/reaction, fluff, domestic bliss, established relationship au word count: 3k warnings: highly suggestive, 18+ themes, swearing request: yes but also no? a/n: femme-leaning reader~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

bang chan

you roll over at the sound of chan mumbling in his sleep

he kinda wakes up

just a little blearily

and gives you this huge smile (♡‿♡)

bc you're actually there, the love of his life

and he still can't believe he's lucky enough to wake up beside you every day

so you snuggle closer and kiss his nose

then his eyelids

and finally his mouth so gently

channie just curls more tightly to you and pulls you to his chest

his hair is all tousled in the cutest way

like one part of it is sticking up like a lil cat ear (or wolf ear, since it's chan)

and you kinda just melt when you notice it

you can’t resist combing your fingers through his hair

when he finally wakes up

chan peppers your face with kisses, 

carefully sliding on top of you

to then slowly, so slowly kiss you

his hands travel all over you, slipping under the old t-shirt of his you’re wearing

and soon you’re wriggling under him, wanting more (*/ω＼)

so chan works what seems like magic with his hands and/or mouth

until your toes are curl and you feel like you’re going to burst

but chan just grins and rolls off the bed

leaving you gasping and mildly grumpy ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

but you still get up to make blueberry pancakes

bc it’s saturday and that means blueberry pancakes  ( ｀^´ )ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

so you’re standing at the counter, combining the ingredients and waiting for the griddle to heat up

chan comes in after taking a shower

and is so overcome with tenderness at how sweet you look

just standing there in the kitchen,

still in his t-shirt and your underpants

so he wraps his arms around you from behind

and presses himself against you, teasing again a little

he nuzzles your neck, just begging for kisses

so soon, the stove is turned off and breakfast almost forgotten

as you stumble, giggling, back into the bedroom to cuddle and kiss more

and when you’re just about falling asleep

bc who needs to be awake on a saturday morning?! ┐(︶▽︶)┌

chan looks just as adorable and soft as he did earlier in the day

and you let him curl into your arms again

as you hold him and kiss the top of his head

adfghakldfhg he's just the sweetest floofkins (*´▽`*)

lee minho

i know i’ve compared minho to a cat before

but hear me out

minho in the mornings is mildly hilarious

bc even if he’s completely curled into a ball when he falls asleep

or spooning you sweetly

or whatever other fascinating position you fall asleep in together

he ends up stretched out

with at least one arm and one leg thrown over you

snoring softly

just. like. a. cat.

and you often find yourself unable to move

bc minho’s surprisingly heavy when he’s asleep

complete deadweight (╥ᆺ╥；)

but as soon as you brush the little stray hairs from his forehead

and kiss his shoulder

he stirs and groans a little, just settling deeper into the mattress

….which means more snugly onto you

heCk (￢_￢;)

so you wriggle around a little more

and finally manage to get your leg free from underneath of minho’s

as usual, you climb on top of minho and sit squarely on top of him

………

and start tickling him (≧◡≦)

THAT definitely wakes minho up

his lips poke out a little in a pout, all of their own accord

but he can’t really do anything about the fact that you’re tickling him

bc you’re sitting right on his hips, pinning him to the bed

the ~intimacy~ of the position, despite the fact that you’re tickling him, is not lost on either of you

and, being the little shit that he is, minho bucks his hips up once or twice

you just give him a mock glare and say “bad kitty”

before tickling him with renewed enthusiasm

(not to mention giving him little kisses on the neck and teasing ones on the ear)

once his ribs start to hurt from laughing,

minho just pulls you into a deep kiss

and you both relax

you love how sweet he is in the morning

nothing is hurried nor desperate

bc all minho wants to do is softly show you how much he loves you

you share little, soft touches that nonetheless feel like the most important things in the world

seo changbin

changbin’s arms around you is the best thing in the world

you’re barely awake and everything is blissful softness

if your feelings and the atmosphere could be described as a color,

it would be peach~

golden and warm, with just a hint of sweetness ;)

you snuggle into changbin’s chest, nestling your hips more closely with his

and you get a little kiss on the head

changbin is calm and cuddly in the mornings

and all he wants to do is hold you

sometimes you’ll end up with him closer than skin-to-skin

but it’s honestly more for comfort than anything else

how can he resist yet another way to be closer to you and cozy?

after awhile, you turn over slightly and kiss the underside of his chin

he giggle softly

……he’s a bit like totoro:

comfy

definitely a little magical

((yes, i’m still on my “changbin is a shapeshifting crow” agenda))

and just A Good BeanTM

(♡‿♡) (♡‿♡) (♡‿♡)

you scoot up onto the pillow a bit so you’re face-to-face

changbin just murmurs “hey baby” and gives you a lil kiss on the lips

his lips are so soft you feel like you’re going to melt

he makes sure to pull the blankets back over your shoulders so you aren’t cold

and he rubs your back in slow circles

tension you didn’t even know you were holding releases under his touch

and changbin’s hand drifts to your hip to hold you to him

you tangle your legs together

and he somehow pulls you closer

you’re really not sure how he manages it

but changbin can hold you and cuddle you so closely that you feel like you’re going to merge into one person

there’s nothing sexy about it or anything

it’s just that the warm, safe feeling you get is so amazing

neither of you are anywhere near fully awake

and drift in and out of sleep, sometimes shifting to a more comfortable position

when you finally wake, changbin is still sleeping soundly

you take the opportunity to stare at him

his hair is mussed (a bit wildly)

and he has the first little bits of stubble coming down from his sideburns

a little smile adorns his mouth, as if he’s dreaming about something lovely

((you. he’s dreaming about you :3 ))

you slip your arm up to stroke changbin’s face

your thumb passes over the rounded plane of his cheekbone

and, even in sleep, he leans into your touch

after a few more moments, you lightly kiss him awake

hwang hyunjin

you’d expect hyunjin to be a complete mess in the mornings

but he’s not

he’s actually organized

oh and since his hair can get aaaaaall over the place

he always makes sure to braid it out of the way at night

so in the mornings, little wisps of hair stick out from their appointed places

one of your morning habits is to delicately tuck those wisps of hair back into place

on the weekends, hyunjin is

so! excited!! to!!! cuddle!!!! you!!!!! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

and loves kinda pouncing on you as soon as your eyes open

kisses you all over

and rolls the two of you around on the bed

and he’s just holding your hips the entire time, rubbing small circles into them

as he kisses you so damn sweetly

alkdfhgskdjfh

and if you playfully nip at his bottom lip?

he’ll just do it right back

your rolling around has turned into more too many times for you to count

and honestly, it’s kinda the best

so sweet and slow

like you’re the most precious jewel in the world

he  t a k e s  h i s  s w e e t  t i m e (￣～￣ )

and sometimes all you can do is hold on to the sheets for dear life

unless you’re supposed to meet your parents at 11 a.m.

in which case, you’d better be ready

gotta go fast, as they say~ (⊙‿⊙✿)  

but even then, mornings with hyunjin are still sweeter than caramel

his normally plump lips are even more so when he’s just woken up

and the way he squints his eyes against the sun?

that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

sometimes he’s just calm in the mornings

and you lay your head on his chest

and listen to his heartbeat

as hyunjin strokes your hair and gives you a little neck massage

it’s so peaceful and you wouldn’t trade snuggling with hyunjin for the world

han jisung

does not want to get out of bed

nope

no fucking thank you ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

there really should be a sign on his door or bed like

WARNING: Do Not Try to Remove Squirrel from Natural Habitat!!!!!

secondary warning: squirrel may bite if forcibly removed from natural habitat

he will cling to you better than an octopus

alkjdhgadlkfjghadfkgjl

jisung nuzzles into your neck like there’s no tomorrow

and the loose strands of hair falling around his face tickle your skin a little

instead of kissing your neck over and over,

jisung just kinda pouts and keeps his lips lightly against your skin

it’s really sweet hhhhhh (o´▽`o)

if he’s ~ in the mood ~ be prepared for WhiningTM

and for your pajamas to disappear faster than chan’s ears turn red when he’s embarrassed

is it gonna be fast? slow? who knows! (・_・ )

let the fates decide and just go with it

bc either way, you’re going to need to change the sheets and take a shower

you may also find yourself turned into a burrito one morning

bc jisung loves all the blankets

and thinks you’re cute as hell all rolled up in them

…..like a burrito ｡･ﾟ(ﾟ⊃ω⊂ﾟ)ﾟ･｡

and he will immediately lay down on top of you, the burrito, and begin to munch

and by munch i mean kiss you so thoroughly you’ll barely remember your name

he only gets like that if he’s been awake for at least an hour

hhhhhhhh

so when he first opens his eyes, rubbing his face a little and yawning

his first inclination is to make sure you’re still there

and then he just snuggles closer, kinda tucking his head under your chin or on your shoulder

as you also wake up, you make sure to kiss his forehead and tell him you love him

it’s a little ritual almost~

you’d both miss it if you didn’t do that

and you just shift a bit so you can hold jisung even tighter,

threading your fingers through his hair

and kissing the tips of his ears, as if they have little points

you lay there together, just enjoying the warmth of not one, not two, not three, but four comfy blankets and each other

until jisung’s a bit more awake

his hair is so messy when he finally sits up

and his lips are a little dry and swollen from sleep

when he finally speaks, his voice is super husky and deeper than usual

and, frankly, you think it’s the hottest thing ever

when you’re together, he usually doesn’t wear a shirt to sleep, either

so in the morning you’re just blessed with the sight of a shirtless jisung

whose voice is at least half an octave lower and slightly gravelly

it’s just;;;

alkfhgalkdjfhgldkjfsjfhks

invariably, you end up pulling him right back down next to you and booping his nose

then kissing him

a lot

and, sometimes, you don’t get out of bed until noon

because why would you when it’s safe inside the blankets? (⌒▽⌒)♡

lee felix

wraps arms and legs (anything else he can manage but idk what) around you

bc damn it you’re there with him and you’re gonna be close!!!!

the cuddliest in the morning

but then again….will gladly wriggle down to the foot of the bed

and make you a scream

felix: softly, y/n!! don’t wake the neighbors!

y/n: how am i… supposed to- Fuck! stay quiet when you- damn it, ’lix… keep doing that!!?

*giggles from felix* (≧◡≦)

but most importantly

he literally just wants to hold you

and enjoys making you laugh by rumbling his voice in his chest

after all, it’s considerably easier to do first thing in the morning

and is quite proud of the fact that his voice is deeper in the mornings

yawns kinda loudly????

but does that slow eye and nose scrunch he does

to clear the sleep from his eyes a little

it’s the cutest thing ever

also learned the “make my significant other into a burrito” trick from jisung (-_-;)

so now you’re a burrito practically every single morning

there’s actually something comforting about being swaddled

and also like jisung

(((dear god they must share notes akhfskdhj)))

he flops down on top of you to cuddle the living daylights out of you

felix will give you all the gentle kisses in the world

definitely sings that frank sinatra song “fly me to the moon” to wake you up

before kissing each of your fingers, your palm, your wrist, and all the way up your arm before finally

finally

reaching your lips

and he just murmurs sweet nothings to you

as he kisses you every way and everywhere he knows how

felix likes to lay beside with you, hands laced together

and talk about what you’ll do together that day

bc there’s so much he wants to do with you (*¯ ³¯*)♡

and show you and cook for you

and he’s just so full of love

that he ends up bounding out of bed

and pulling you with him, even if you’re both still half-asleep

just so you can start your day together

although, you usually have to stop him from running out the door still in his pajamas

with the cutest bedhead ever

a small part of you wants to see what would happen if he went out like that

but then again…

you also want to be the only one who sees felix in such an utterly free state of being

kim seungmin

seungmin is extremely soft in the mornings

he really likes to just hold you to his chest with his cheek pressed against the top of your head

kisses your temple from time to time

and just holds you on top of him, hand pressed to the small of your back

he likes to tell you about the previous day when you’re just laying there together

and sometimes doesn’t mind if you fall back asleep while he’s talking

he actually finds it rather cute

seungmin likes to spoil you in the mornings

whatever that means to you

either food

(he’ll make you an amazing breakfast

like absolutely everything you could ever want

and probably more)

or ~ love ~

(…maybe, if you make a good case for it

does not take these things lightly (￣ヘ￣) )

or giving you a massage

whatever

you do like massages tho

and seungmin’s particularly good at them

he makes sure to get lotion or body oil

and that his hands are warm

bc no one likes a massage from someone with cold hands

then just methodically massages your back

he secretly likes the little noises you make when the tension releases from your muscles (✿´ ꒳ ` )

sometimes massages turn into making love

but usually not~

mornings are for slow relaxation

no raising of heartbeats or anything else

seungmin also likes to plan out days while still cuddling in bed

and grudgingly allows you to tease him

about his bedhead

or his bleary-eyed looks at you before he’s fully awake ╥﹏╥

or how he just wouldn’t move no matter what you did during the night

it was really quite amazing

..................

seungmin tends to mumble a lot in the mornings

it’s one of the few times he’ll snuggle into you

instead of holding you

he’ll just mumble incoherently

and you’ll be just falling asleep again

when he starts talking perfectly clearly about how much he loves you

you listen, trying to memorize exactly what he says

bc there’s absolutely nothing to distract him or filter the words

and he’s just…. talking

seungmin’s voice first thing in the morning is, of course, a bit lower from sleep

and you find it unbearably attractive

especially when he’s telling you he loves you (*/ω＼)｡ｏ♡

yang jeongin

kinda just slips his arm around your shoulder

kisses the top of your head

and murmurs “good morning sweetie”

before getting up quickly to brush his teeth

bc dear gods he just wants to feel clean;;;;

but!!

once he’s back, it’s time for sooooo many cuddles ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

you hadn’t necessarily fully enjoyed the experience of breakfast in bed

until you met jeongin

then, breakfast in bed on the weekends became normal!

and sometimes you’d even watch a show together

and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle

when he started working out more, you were really excited

bc it meant more squish for you to cuddle on

ajdfgsdkjfhgaklj

he’s very playful in the mornings

and, like with minho, there ends up being lots of tickling

although, with jeongin, he’s doing the tickling

he’s in love with your giggle(*♡∀♡)(*♡∀♡)

and takes every opportunity to make you laugh just so he can hear it

jeongin is the poutiest in the mornings

like if you thought jisung can pout?

then…

well, no. jisung still wins the pouting contest

but jeongin comes in a close second!!!

but not even pouting to get something or get his way

just cutely pouting for the sake of looking cute (◕‿◕✿)

alkdhgsdfkjghal

and he just squishes you so tightly to his chest

you sometimes have to remind him that

in a perfect world

you’d like to breathe

one morning when you were being squeezed

so affectionately you didn’t even know what to do

you decided to kiss his collarbones

and it was all over from there

jeongin  m e l t s  if you kiss his collarbones

and if you kiss along them,

everything in his world is even better

but then if you decide to get inventive

and maybe take a lil soft nibble or lick?

it’s all over (⌒_⌒;)

he just gets so overwhelmed with love

and tenderness hhhhh

and sighs like a dramatic Victorian lady

the moment you start

therefore:

you are so not leaving that bed for at least another two hours

jeongin likes to make sure you’re nice and comfy

at all times

when in bed bc, just like his friends have taught him:

he will treat you like an angel.｡ｏ♡

[angelkurenai]

So much for a surprise - Chris Evans x Reader - Part 2

Title: So much for a surprise

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: I’d love a chris evans x reader one shot, where they’re dating, and after the knives out movie, he’s been spending a lot of time with his co-star Ana de Armas, and like in one specific interview she was getting very flirty and such with Chris, and touching his arm and stuff, and I’d just want to see how you’d interpret jealous!reader, and Chris reacting to that jealousy!!

Read Part 1 here!

There was an echo. A distant one. Far away. And there were words too, he was sure of it, but they couldn't reach him. They tried to, as did the person saying them. However it felt like there was something more, preventing them from getting to him. Maybe it wasn't the voice or the person. Maybe it was really him, him that had walls around him. Preventing the outside world from getting to him.

And the echo seemed further away, muted somehow though he could still hear it. Maybe he was underwater? He didn't know, he had no idea what was going on in the first place anyway, but it felt like it. And not just because he felt like no sounds could get to him clearly, not because his own ears were ringing and the pressure building on each side of his head made him feel like he was thousands of feet deep into the sea, crushing his head in a way that oddly enough didn't hurt as much as the rest of him, as much as his chest and not because of his eyes stinging, burning as did his lungs as he held his breath. No it wasn't because of those reasons that he thought he was beneath the sea but because he felt like- He had taken you on your first date for a picnic by the sea. You had commented on how punctual he was. How him being right on time might seal the deal for you and make you fall for him in the end.

The memory seemed to shake him to the core. A link to reality which assisted in pulling him further and further up from the depths he had found himself in, the surface almost tangible and the other side... painfully there. It hurt more to be back to reality than it did to be underwater in the sea of his thoughts, after all. Maybe, and he was almost certain of it, it would hurt much less to really be underwater. The physical pain would be nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then some more. Everything slowly started coming into focus, all of his senses sharpening. His vision more clear, the sounds reaching his ears more acute and precise, to the point he could tell what was being said.

“Chris? Chris? Chris are you still in there?... Are you alright? The door is locked. Please, just say something.” the voice on the other side of the door was unmistakably Ana's, and while both the tone in it and the knocking on the door was frantic and panicked, to say the least, he couldn't find it in himself to move a muscle just yet.

Whether it was that he didn't care to move or that his mind still hadn't made the connection to the rest of his body so as to not feel the full scope of pain, especially the one harboring within his chest and broken heart, he didn't know. All he did was blink several times again, his eyes slowly focusing on the small open box in his hand. He had spent so much time agonizing over picking the right ring, wanting to treat you right he wanted to pick a ring that could express all of his love for you, and then agonizing over trying to organize the perfect occasion to finally ask the question. It had almost been months now, though he couldn't dare admit to that (mostly because he was almost sure now, he wouldn't get the chance to) just like he wouldn't dare admit that you had been right about Ana. Only up to some point though.

He had been spending more time with her, maybe much more than he did with you, but he was completely oblivious to the way she could possibly feel about him, let alone about all the flirting you had seen. He had too much on his mind, you and his possible future with you, that he didn't even notice half of it. Appreciating only the fact that it somehow managed to make him forget his worries, he went along with all of it. Not that you were to blame for it, if anything it was possibly one of the sweetest kind of worries, but it was still something that kept him up at night. And staying away for some time he had the chance to prepare, mentally if nothing else. He feared that if it didn't go right, if you said no, then maybe that would be it for the both of you and for good. It was a risk, no matter what, and he feared losing you to it.

“Chris? Chris, are you alright? Please just- Say something, I'm getting really worried here. I'm going to get someone to kick the door open if you can't-” her words didn't really register in his ears after that but that wasn't necessary when the purpose had formed in his mind.

Taking in a deep breath, albeit shaky, he shoved the closed box inside his pocket and got up. He cleared his throat and finally unlocked the door, opening it to face his costar standing on the other side. Her face showed the same amount of worry he had detected in her voice through the frantic knocking, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't have the mind to.

“Chris! You- Are you alright? What happened? I've been waiting for you. We- you said you were coming with but then you didn't show up and I- I got so worried.” she said with wide eyes.

He felt a pang in his chest at those words but didn't dwell on it “I- Yeah. I'm fine, I'm- I'm sorry. I was actually a bit in a world of my own, I didn't mean to worry you.”

“Well, no- it's alright, don't worry about me.” she blinked several times, shaking her head “It's just that you've been here for hours and I-”

“Yeah, I've got lots of things going on at the moment and I- To be honest with with you, I'd prefer to be alone right now. So I apologize but I just- I actually have to be somewhere else, I won't be able to make it tonight. I'm sorry, I just... I don't think I will be any good company.”

“Well, it's not like you have to even try to be any good company. Not if you don't want to. You could just come with and not have to talk at all to anyone else if you don't feel like it. And after-” she paused, as if hesitating for a moment “Not to intrude or anything but I kind of noticed that things got bad after your girlfriend showed up so I couldn't help but think that maybe... it would help take your mind off things?” she suggested hopefully but it only made Chris' insides twist “Cause I could help if you'd let me, I'd love to. You know that. I- I mean maybe it's not my place but it seemed-”

“You're right, it's not.” maybe it came out more harsh than it was supposed to, maybe more harsh than he meant it too and more harsh than he even realized, not until h saw Ana's eyes widen in surprise that is “I-” he started before he cleared his throat “Sorry.” he mumbled.

“No, of course- It's alright.”

“It's just that there's something very important going on right now at the moment that needs my full attention. And you can't help me. I would actually appreciate it if you left my out of your plans for quiet... quiet some time. I'm sorry, it's really not you specifically. It's between (Y/n) and I, it can only be that way and it should be that way. Which is why right now-” he hurried to grab his phone and close the door “I have to hurry. I'm truly sorry Ana for...” he paused, looking at her with a frown “For more things than were in my power and I wish things could have gone different but right now (Y/n)'s my main priority. She's always been, even though I did a shit job of showing it.”

“You- uh you don't have to apologize. It's personal. I get it.” she put on what could only a a brave, albeit forced, smile on her face “You go to your girlfriend. I might not know what's going on but... it's clear she could do with seeing you. I can certainly say you need to see her. You should go.”

There were far too many things he wanted to tell her, to apologize for having let things get this way because she wasn't entirely at fault either. He had been so busy worrying about the proposal that he had led her on in his selfish attempts to unwind. In his mind, and heart without a doubt, though he knew that there was no space for any other woman but you. You came first and all the pain he'd put you through, one which he was willing to spend the rest of his life trying to amend for if you'd just let him. Hopefully. So instead all he did was give Ana a short nod and tight smile with a soft “Good night.” before he was sprinting to his car, ready to find you.

Even though he didn't really know where to begin with, the thought of which filled him with ten times the panic of having to propose to you. Moments like this, he really wished he could go back in time and change everything. If he could, he would ask you to marry him with a napkin ring on the spot, without waiting a minute let alone months, from that first morning he realized that he really did want to wake up to you like that every morning for the rest of his life. He even had some crazy hope you would say yes. And it was certainly much more hope than finding you tonight in time and before things took a turn for the worse.

If only he knew where to find you, that would have been great.

It felt like forever, going around with his car, from bar to bar. It was almost crazy, futile even, but it was the only thing he could think of; even if it didn't work out. And it really hadn't because he hadn't been able to find you, or better yet you and your companion, in any of the places he went until he found himself in the most unlikely place for you to be. Or maybe it was the most likely one, who knew?

All Chris knew was that had he not struggled to get out of his car and into your apartment then he would have never noticed the familiar car, parked just a few feet away. And therefore would have not gotten a warning for the man whom he saw exit not shortly afterwards that apartment complex which he certainly didn't live in. Chris followed your costar with his eyes, frowning but otherwise making no move. He wasn't planing on approaching, much less confronting him; he wasn't even ready to know what he was doing at your apartment, because he knew that's where he'd been and he knew that's where he'd find you now. He watched the man get in his car and slowly drive away on the other lane. He kept looking even after he was long gone, no other car in sight or any other person but darkness. The kind of darkness he was afraid would swallow him up whole, most probably from within.

He shut his eyes tightly, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists around the steering wheel and took many breathes in and out as well as a few seconds to calm himself and his thoughts before he left his own car and made his way to your shared place. Or maybe it was a couple minutes trying to prepare himself, but he didn't want to dwell on what he was preparing himself for.

Opening the door and walking into your shared apartment he almost prayed deep down to find you at leas on the living room and when he didn't, he only felt his heart rate pick up. Holding his breath, fearing that even that would make a sound audible enough to alert of his presence, he made his way to your shared bedroom. He would have looked for you in the kitchen or probably any other place he wanted but that would have only been stalling and an attempt at sparing himself some pain and truth was he felt like he didn't deserve it. Even if it was eye for an eye, even if it was more, he had it all coming.

So with that in mind he walked into the bedroom only to, if possible, be more hurt by the sight that greeted him than he initially expected. His breath hitched in his throat when he spotted you sitting on the floor of the room, back resting on the bed, staring at the open wardrobe with red eyes, still glossy from the tears you had no doubt shed. Because of him. And that was a knife to the chest.

It was Dodger, who was as always attached to you and currently laying on your lap, trying his best to comfort you, that noticed Chris first and gave a small bark. You blinked, almost jumping in your place, before you turned your head to meet his eyes. Your own eyes widened briefly, maybe you really didn't expect to see him there, and after a few seconds of hesitation and confusion, you looked away from him again and back at your clothes. He still wouldn't look away, nor make a single sound.

“He only offered to drive me back home. I wasn't-” in came a shaky breath “I clearly wasn't in the mood to stay with them and I- I couldn't really calm down and he got worried. He- He stayed for only a few minutes as I, well-” your smile was so bitter it cut him open “Cried my eyes out. Didn't tell him anything though, don't worry, he didn't ask either.” a heavy sigh “Don't worry about this... us either. I'll uhm I think I've figured out what kind of clothes I need, I haven't talked with Lizzie yet but she wouldn't have a problem letting me stay at her place for some time before I make my way back home.”

“What?” his words came out choked out, probably barely above a whisper, but ringing in his ears “Home? (Y/n)... this is your home. This is our home. What are you talking about?”

“I think I was rather clear, Chris. It's better if we put some distance between us. And after that... Well, I'm going to go back home. There's obviously no other way this can go.” your voice was low “Besides, it's not going to make a difference to you, be honest. Whether I am here or not, how will you even notice the difference when you barely remember you have a girlfriend let alone are around enough to notice her.”

He wished there was some anger in your voice, he wished there was venom or bitterness direct at him. But instead there was nothing, nothing but exhaustion and possibly pain. And that was the worst of it.

“(Y/n), no.” he breathed out almost desperately “No, please don't say that.”

“Well, it's the truth.” you shrugged casually.

“That you're leaving him? Is that the truth? Is that the truth of what you wanted? Of what we were fighting for in this relationship? Of all that we wished and dreamed about? Of what we promised each other when we took the next step?” his voice cracked, and he knew his vision was getting blurry, but he couldn't bring himself to care of how pathetic he could look right now.

“The truth of what the past couple months have been leading to. Of what all this secrecy and distance between us has led to. Even if, as you see, I've been right here for you all the time; maybe it's really time for me to take a step back too.” you looked sadly only at Dodger, no wonder feeling sad that you'd have to part with him and possibly for good after today and-

Chris shook his head, banishing all the thoughts from his head and trying to fight off the lump in his throat. No, no this was not how things were supposed to go. This was not how he was going to let them go.

“It's only natural after today.” you spoke softly “Look, I- I don't want to take any of it out on you. We've had our talk, there is nothing else to say anymore, not really, so I will simply gather my things and-”

“No!” it was the first time a voice was raised in the room, coming from Chris who, as his ears were buzzing, was shocked as well by it all “No, you won't. Not until you've heard my side of the story!” he sounded more firm and determined than, he was sure, he had ever heard himself be in his entire life.

“Chris, honestly, there is no need. I told you I don't blame you and I'm not even jealous anymore. I simply-” you gave him a forced smile “I'm simply tired. I don't have the mind or heart for any of it. And if you really want to be with Ana then you are free to, you don't even have think about me. Much less try to explain yourself or the situation.”

“This is not some sort of excuse, (Y/n). I would never-” he sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face before slowly making his way to you and sitting down in a way that looked more like he was collapsing, making sure to still leave some small distance between you in case you felt uncomfortable “You know I've never cheated on you. I would never try to hurt you, especially in that way. Though, I understand, by not paying closer attention to Ana flirting with me I did just that. You know I-”

“I do.” you whispered “I do know that... Just like I know that all those promises we made each other all that time ago mean nothing anymore. So really there is no reason for you to try and mend things between us. There is no reason to-”

“There's always a reason. There's-” his eyes widened before he shut them closed tightly, shaking his head and fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. It looked like you had given up and that hurt him even more. He couldn't have you give up, because if you did then he probably could do nothing to undo the mess he had created “I love you more than anything in this world, more than my own life.” his voice cracked but he didn't care, he could almost not hear his own words, not as he almost subconsciously reached inside his pocket and pulled the small box only to slowly place it in the space between you.

And even though he was sure all words had left him by now, he surprised himself when he recalled only a few. The ones he had practiced in his head – and ridiculed himself while failing to say out loud – he would tell you when he did get the courage to propose to you “You're my reason.” he whispered, fully looking at you and therefore being able to notice the way your eyes reluctantly but surely trailed from him to the small object between the two of you. Shock was the word that could easily describe the look on your face but not the only one. The gasp from your lips sounded louder in his ears.

“You're my reason for everything. Everything good that happens in my life. Everything good that makes me happy. Everything good that I manage to achieve, you're my reason. Everything I've become these past years, you're the reason. Because you push me to be the best of who I can be . But when the world demands that of me, you're the reason I remember it's also good to not be the best I can be. It's because of you that I remember that falling and failing isn't so bad, because you will be there to help me stand up again. You're the reason I smile and laugh, and cry and get angry more often than not. But you're also the reason I love doing all that as well. You're the reason I love life, with its ups and downs, that I love waking up and that I wish it could be next to you for the rest of my life. You make it all worth it in a way no words can describe it... even the one I've already used. Even-” he stopped himself, the lump in his throat too much to bear anymore, the unshed tears making his eyes burn.

He didn't say anything more, and you weren't about to break the silence that had set around the two of you, his uneven breathing being the only sound that was heard besides the ticking of the clock. In the end, Chris let out a pained laugh “There was a lot I was planning to say after that too, before I really asked the big question you know. For obvious reasons... I probably won't. Not that I think I can really... I'm sorry. But that's the most I've said without messing it up so uh-” he rubbed that back of his neck, painful smile on his face “I guess if things were different, you would have been proud of me? If...”

“Chris... When did you get this?” your voice cracked, hurting him worse than his broken heart.

“It's- I've had it for months now. I couldn't bring myself to- I was scared to ask you. But instead of facing that fear head on I did the stupid thing of trying to get my mind off of it by... well, you know what I've been doing lately.” he sighed, letting his head lean back on the bed, he closed his eyes and fought off the tears. Or at least so he told himself, he was actually scared to face you “I'm so sorry, (Y/n). For everything I've done. For ruining easily the best thing to ever happen to me in my entire life.”

“Fucking hell, Chris. That's- Damn it.” you shocked out, burying your face in your hands. The silence that hang in the room was so thick he felt like chocking. But the way your low voice whispered to him in pain, he realised that there were worse things than that silence. “You did all of this for- for that?”

“I know, trust me I do.”

“You should have told me.” you shook your head, fresh tears running down your face “You should have... That's not how you- I deserved to know. I deserved it... I needed it.”

“I know... I know now. And I understand how... scary it gets. And it's much more scary than asking you that question.” he let out a shuddering breath, eyes opening and falling on the small box “Realizing that there was a real chance of losing you to another man made me feel so helpless. It scared me more than anything and I hate that we had to come to this for me to understand the truth... That I can't lose you, I can't live without you. Only real question here is-” he gave a humorless smile “Is it too late for that?”

Three beats. Three beats of his heart. The longest three beats in his entire life and he felt like drowning again. Before you finally sighed and whispered "You're never too late."

[justiceleaque]

Hey Leaque! I know you watched the new Justice League movie and I was around when you were doing the very first DC movie reviews back in the day. I would absolutely love a review of this one if you have the time :)

i've been a fan of Snyder's universe from day 1 so i understand this might be considered an off-balance review already, but i want to note that i didn't come in wanting the film to be good or willing to see it as good despite actual impressions. i wanted to watch it as the Justice League movie i was supposed to get back in 2017, the same one i was willing to not watch for years if it meant Zack Snyder got to finish his vision even later down the line

i was actually as neutral as i could possibly get because at this point i don't have any real emotional involvement in whether this version of the DCEU continues or not. WB execs have done some fucked up things with the treatment of the cast/ray fisher, so i take this as Snyder's DC trilogy and nothing more (which makes it bittersweet for me but that's a different topic)

heavy spoilers follow

it's incredibly comic book-like. i remember typing the exact same words back in the Dawn of Justice days: it doesn't read as a superhero film a la Marvel but as a comic book film. each frame could be a realistically painted comic book frame; the dialogues would fit freakishly well if they had to fit speech bubbles. the damn scene overlaps and changes are heavily reminiscent of a comic book. better yet: of a Justice League comic book. if you’re familiar with comic book events where big things happen and it affects everyone, this is how this reads

it’s a heavy film but it’s not hopeless. i’ve been seeing reviews pop-up already: “ZS’s Justice League film is twice as longe and twice as hopeless” is the maybe verbatim title of most articles. the one thing i kept thinking throughout these four hours is how much hope this is filled with. we’re dealing with a post-superman world that was shaken by the loss of a beloved superhero and you see batman, the #1 comic book superhero known for brooding and darkness and all things sad and bad, be the loudest, most hopeful person in the film, trying to get a team together to save the world, and later on being two steps from literally screaming that bringing back superman is what should happen no matter the cost because of his faith and hope in winning. did we watch the same film?

in the same vein, the 4 hours seem like a stretch until you realize each part has an actual purpose that introduces or ties in important aspects related to the film’s one purpose: take down Steppenwolf and Darkseid. i don’t believe any scene was wasted on useless information. it can get tiring in the way watching a shot tv series gets tiring: it does NOT get boring at any point

such wonderful character arcs. seeing each of the team’s personalities and quirks, the way they clash with each other, the way it makes it all work so goddamn beautifully. the way they click because they just keep interacting so much? Whedon’s cut didn’t give me a team, it gave me five different people in costume that were forced to sort of work in the same vicinity as each other. Snyder’s cut gave me a version of the Justice League that worked so flawlessly together by the end of the film it felt like a dance. felt like comic book page spreads

right before the epilogue they all pose together in the rising dawn, clark included, having won. super reminiscent of the JL cartoon intro. i cried a bit

J’ONN J’ONZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YOU KNOW THE AMOUNT OF SPECULATION ABOUT GENERAL SWANWICK BEING THE MARTIAN MANHUNTER BACK WHEN MAN OF STEEL WAS RELEASED???? VINDICATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

listen to me. i need to make this clear. listen.  j’onn. j’onny boy. the way he’s designed and cgi’d..........the adorable frown............the kind smile......................his obvious need to make others feel better and to simply help......................i love him

his interaction with bruce only comes in the end and it’s super brief but seeing those two still not know how the hell each other works even in film format is hilarious. bruce having accepted aliens and magic and shit is the new norm after like 20 years of only having to deal with the joker attempting to rob neon green hair dyes or some shit is so much bigger of a character development than i ever expected, especially coming from BvS where he’s just a stupid fat-bat-carrying onion

i wasn’t a big fan of Suicide Squad’s joker portrayal but we get to see him at the end of the film while we’re seeing a possible future where lois lane has died and superman is best friends with darkseid playing tic-tac-antilife equation. Snyder somehow managed to turn jared leto into a disgustingly legit comic-faithful joker. dont’ ask me how

in the same scene they mention jason and his death

: - (

we see a few bits of some green lanterns in some scenes, one from the past and one from a possible ultra dark and edgy darkseid future. still convinced bruce simply willingly did not go looking for hal, which, fair

they cut out the fish joke bruce tells arthur when they first meet which immediately turns the whole film into a 1/10 for me

ben affleck’s bruce wayne and batman continue being my favorite on-screen batman iteration to date. we finally move from the usual dark lone soldier version Hollywood is relentlessly giving us into one that belongs with the Justice League. incredibly heartwarming to see

there’s a scene when the JL are first assaulting Steppenwolf’s base and they’re all fighting parademons and shit and there’s a moment where you see batman fighting the Space SWAT From Hell alone and the way he moves? the way he flows from one position to another and another like i’m watching a damn comic book animation????????? sir????????????????????

barry allen saved them

like, literally, barry allen saved them. superman was back and everyone was ready to dance one final time and they were all going ‘steppenwolf fucking SUCKS’ and steppenwolf was crying to darkseid and then the motherboxes did their thing and they all were obliterated into star dust and then barry allen was like ‘bitch i told you i need FRIENDS’ and turned back time and now they’re all okay again :o)

darkseid @ batman through his magic spacetime portal: i’m gonna get your ass one day soon and take you back in time and you’re gonna eventually bring about the end of the world by having every dark twisted batman invade your universe because you inspired them

batman:

batman:

batman: i haven’t read Rebirth bro

i know i’m forgetting stuff but that’s the gist. hands down one of the best comic book film experiences i’ve ever had. with an aside to barry allen being more of a mix of barry and wally, everyone feels incredibly faithful to the source material. also batman definitely killed like, at least 400 parademons in one night, but pest control doesn’t count

(like. he straight up obliterates them)

(pulls out a batbazuka on them)

(amazing)

[myundeadgayson]

Mystic Messenger, but it’s actually C!Quackity on the DSMP

 …C!Quackity treating the DSMP like a dating sim joke, except I take it literally and tell you all the datable characters and Good, Bad, and Neutral Ends like this Mystic Messenger. (Disclaimer Note: This is all based on C!Quackity’s lore. This is also all based around their characters, NOT the CC’s. I am also NOT encouraging you to ship any of these characters -- especially bc some DO NOT feel comfortable with that. Also, no Minors are included because NO. This has just been a running Quackity joke for a while, and the concept of C!Quackity trying to flirt with all of these characters to speedrun the server like a legit dating sim sounds just so funny to me. Please do not attack me.)

Main Character Routes:

Sapnap (Good End: “Burning Love”, Neutral End: “I Love You, But Not Like That”, Bad End: “Twice Burned”) — can be connected to Karl’s Route

Karl Jacobs (Good End: ”Forever and Always”, Neutral End: “Friendzoned”, Bad End: “When Time Runs Out”) — can be connected to Sapnap’s Route 

Schlatt (Good End: “Alone, but Better”, Neutral End: “As the World Caves In”, Bad End: “Yes, Mr. President”)

Advanced Character Routes (only accessible after all Main Routes are completed):

Wilbur Soot (Good End: ”Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust”, Neutral End: “Two Sides of the Same Coin”, Bad End: “Enemies to Enemies”)

Technoblade (Good End: ”Tame the Blade”, Neutral End: “Enemies to... Allies?”, Bad End: “Dental Appointment”)

Karlnapity (Advanced Version): (Good End: “It’s About Time!”, Neutral End: “Only Time Will Tell”, Bad End: “...Who?”)

Secret Character Routes (only accessible after all routes above are completed):

Eret (Good End: “Flirt with the Traitor”, Neutral End: “You Need Friends, I Need Therapy”, Bad End: “Never Meant to Be”)

BadBoyHalo (Good End: “Dance with the Demon”, Neutral End: “...Sapnap’s Your What?”, Bad End: “An Eggsellent Ending, but a New Beginning”)

Bonus Route (only accessible when reaching halfway through Advanced Routes; technically a Bad End):

Philza Minecraft (??? End: Dilf Hunter Achievement: Become a Stepdad)

These are just the routes I’ve come up with for fun, and you can kind of see how a lot of them turn out by the names asjhdgksaj. (I don’t mind explaining what happens in any of them if you wanna know.) ** For anyone that doesn’t know Mystic Messenger by the way, there are 3 Main Endings (Good, Neutral, Bad) for Every Character, a True Neutral End, a True Bad End, and some other Bad Ends along the way if you start Good, then turn Bad towards a Character you’re pursuing.

But also, since this is Quackity… Him balancing out affection towards Karl and Sapnap, gets the Karlnapity Route, which is technically also a Main Route.

I will say though… Karl would probably have secret bonus options in the Advanced Routes that become available that involve Quackity finding out Karl’s a Time Traveler (something he discovers vaguely in Karl’s Main Route), but it leads to Quackity finding out more about Karl’s Time Travelling— the way Karl dies each time, the Dopplegangers, the Inbetween, etc.

Upon discovering all these things and finishing Karl’s Route in Advanced as a Good End, Secret Endings become Available to him. (This is where we’re gonna get SERIOUS, just so you know. We’re living like the Dream Daddy Simulator and there’s more lore than you realize.) More about the Secret Endings under the cut with the actual hidden lore because this post is about to be LONG.

These Secret Endings actually include Quackity witnessing Karl’s Time Traveling firsthand… Also, potentially Quackity traveling WITH Karl through time and into the Inbetween.

Upon him finishing this Secret Ending (which ends with him calming Karl through everything and a hopeful ending of him promising to help Karl to learn more about Karl’s abilities and save Karl’s memories), another route is open.

There’s Three Secret Endings that reveal themselves in total. That was only the first. The final two are connected, but the third being revealed depends on Quackity getting all the Main Bad Ends.

The Second Secret End is directly tied to Karl’s Bad End and the Fiancés’ Bad End in Advanced where in both, Karl forgets Quackity and Quackity lives alone in Las Nevadas.

In the OG Good Ending with Karl, they get married and stay El Rapids with Sapnap (romantic or platonically). In the Good Advanced with Karl, Quackity builds Las Nevadas and Karl almost forgets him, but Quackity comes home and finds out what happened.

The Second Secret Ending is what happens after Karl’s Advanced Bad Ending where he forgets Quackity. This Quackity, who’s chosen not to find out why he wasn’t invited to Kinoko, finds Sapnap struggling enough between helping Karl, managing Kinoko, and everything with Dream. Karl is gone again. Quackity, though still angry with the two, decides to help find Karl.

What ends up happening though is Quackity and Sapnap discover The Library (something Quackity discovers only in the Good Advanced End). They search around and find The Books. Obviously, the two start freaking out until Karl appears. This Karl isn’t their Karl. He looks the same, but there’s a noticeable white streak in his hair. Another thing is that he remembers Quackity.

It’s discovered in that moment that this “Dating Sim” situation with Quackity being able to restart through every path (though he fully never remembers any of them once the paths end) is the work of Time Travel. It’s Karl sending him back in time to make things right. The Karl in their timeline will only continue to get worse and lose all his memories. He NEEDS his memories, otherwise Karl can’t fix the timeline. There’s a huge threat that is going to be showing itself. Everyone WILL be doomed if Karl can’t repair the timeline, however, this Karl can’t fix it for him. Whatever threat that is going to come after them in the near future is following this Karl’s trail too closely. If this Karl tried to do it, he’d be leading the threat back in time with him and things would be doomed even sooner. He can only send back one, which is how Quackity gets chosen. Even though Quackity protests, Sapnap insists that it be Quackity to go. Sapnap can’t leave. If he did, he would be abandoning their timeline’s Karl, along with George and Kinoko. There’s a small argument between Quackity and Sapnap over this, but Sapnap admits he just Can’t. The timeline might change, but he couldn’t live with himself imagining Karl coming home without someone there to remind him that it is Home. Or George finally waking up and Sapnap not being able to be there. Quackity might have Las Nevadas to worry about, but Sapnap has the weight of two of the most important people in their lives on his shoulders. He can’t do it. Future Karl assures Quackity that he’d be good for this, too. That past Karl NEEDS him. His Fiancé NEEDS him. And this way, Quackity can help Sapnap! In the end, Quackity agrees. He reluctantly agrees to go. Future Karl just grins at him and hands him a pocket watch that in future runs, Quackity will be more aware of having because he’s actually had it in every route that wasn’t Karl’s Advanced Route. Right as Future Karl is teaching Quackity how to use it, the portal behind Karl turns a sickly neon green and yellow. Karl looks panicked at the sight. He quickly starts ushering Quackity to leave. NOW. Right as Quackity does, he just manages to see a glimpse of a hooded being stepping through the portal. He’s gone before he can see who it is. The Final Secret Ending becomes available.

The Final Secret Ending is ENTIRELY based on Quackity getting to all the Bad Endings for the Mains and all Karl’s Endings. That’s because the Final Secret Ending is, of course, about Dream. Up until this point, Dream has been doing his typical Dream things. In the Main Routes, he’s more of an idle character for Quackity because Quackity’s not directly involved with him yet. In the Advanced, Dream has reached the point of being imprisoned, thus Quackity is incredibly aware of everything Dream’s done. Somehow, this Dream eventually finds a way to escape the prison. He becomes more powerful upon getting released and somehow finds out about Karl’s powers, leading him down the road of wanting to understand him so that he himself can “fix the server”. Karl can’t allow Dream to tamper with the timeline because it’ll ruin everything. Dream, of course, finds a way into getting into Karl’s library and trying to find the necessary information to do it himself. Insert more plot leading to Dream eventually chasing Karl through the portals to stop Karl from reaching a timeline where they can change the story, and thus enters Quackity. In this Final Secret Ending, Quackity discovers everything that happening because Dream appears before Karl in The Library and reveals everything. Karl arrives late, just as this version of Dream is about to actually kill Quackity because, you know, personal reasons, but also Dream’s figured out Karl’s plan. Right as Dream’s about to kill Quackity though, Karl manages at the last second to shove Quackity the pocket watch, but Karl ends up getting killed in the process. Quackity has no time to mourn before he wakes back up in the past. And that’s all the Karl routes (which technically along with Sapnap) make for the True Endings! So there’s all of that story! ^u^ Definitely way more than I considered plotting out... But ya know,,, I fucking love Mystic Messenger and I love C!Quackity lore, along with C!Karl... So this started as a joke, but now you get lore to it! So please enjoy this brainrot! I put WAYYYY too much thought into it ajsgalkdjghlkd

[watchmegetobsessed]

Our song - Harry Styles

this one was inspired by the jingleball performance bc it was pure perfection and UGHH im obsessed.

dedicated to my dear friend @dontworrysunflower

disclaimer: the song Homesick by Dua Lipa is featured in this fic as an original work of Harry and the reader, but it’s obviously an existing song, I just thought that it would be the song they write

pairing: Harry x vocalist!reader

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

You’ve felt the adrenaline rush take over your body many times in your life and they were all different in some kind of way. The one you felt when you were about to write an important test in school, the one that bubbled through your veins when you got your first kiss. The one that rolled through your limbs and chest when you first performed in front of people that weren’t your parents and the one you felt when you got the news that you were chosen to tour with none other than Harry Styles as his vocalist, singing on his stage every other night in a different city and different country.

But none of those were anything like the feeling that takes over every time you stand on that stage, your microphone that’s labelled with your name right in front of you as thousands of people are screaming in the jam-packed arena. Though it’s not you they come to see and listen to, but you are part of the magic and it’s quite enough for you.

You could never be the one standing at the front with all the lights shining down on your frame, having every gaze in the place glued to you, listening to your voice. That brings the kind of anxiety you’re quite sure you wouldn’t be able to handle. You are perfectly fine standing in the back, being the support system while staying on the down-low as someone else shines at the front, in your case, it’s Harry.

You applied for the job with a reason, already having a huge appreciation for him as an artist, adoring his work so far, especially Fine Line. Upon hearing about the opportunity to be part of his tour, you didn’t hesitate to send your application in and following three auditions, you got the phone call that they wanted you on board.

He swept you right off your feet the first time you met him, but you didn’t expect less from him. Everything you heard about him being the most wonderful person to every walk the planet were proven to be nothing but the truth. You hit it off so easily and become close through the process of rehearsals. His odd little jokes, that funny laugh of his and the way he always peeks over his shoulder to meet his eyes with yours made you fall for him faster than you’d have ever thought you could.

Just as fast as your feeling for Harry developed, tour caught up on you and before you could blink twice, you were living on the road, always dressing from your suitcase, waking up in a different city every other morning.

The foreign studio feels a little odd, but still somehow familiar as you walk in with your water and notebook under your arm. Random studio sessions with Harry became a regular not long after tour kicked off. Harry’s creative juices were overflowing and he was aching to record his creations, constantly renting random studios near the hotel you lot were staying currently and one night, when some of you all were hanging out in his suit, he asked if you’d be down helping him record vocals for a song he’s been working on.

“I want to hear it with your voice instead of mine,” he told you leaning against the wall, a glass of whatever Mitch mixed him in his hands.

“Getting bored of your own voice?” you teased him, bringing his dimples out with the smile that plastered across his lips.

“Could say that. Are you up for it?”

There was no way you would have said no. So the next morning you found yourself in a studio somewhere in Sacramento, singing the vocals to a song no one else has heard other than you and Harry.

The tour has now reached Denver, you can’t wait to be on the stage tonight, but before that, you are having another quick session with Harry in the studio.

When you walk in, his head perks up from his leather notebook he always keeps on himself, filled with his scribbled lyrics. A smile stretches across his lips when his green eyes fall on your frame.

“Hey! Hope it’s not too early for you,” he softly says standing up from the chair as you put your stuff down to the small table in the corner.

“No, managed to get a good night sleep still,” you smile at him, taking a quick look around, though this recording room is just like the others you’ve been in.

“I think I figured out that part we struggled with last time. Changed up the ending a bit, would you mind giving it another go?”

You nod looking down at his notes, seeing the changes he has made in the vocals.

“Changed anything else?” you ask as you watch him get ready for the recording.

“Yeah, rewrote a few lines, think they are fitting better now.”

“Have you recorded them yet?”

“Will do now,” he tells you shaking his head.

Soon enough you find yourself standing behind the mic, headset covering your ears as you are waiting for Harry to start recording and the music to play in your ears. Once he shows up his thumb you do the same and a moment later the song you’ve heard last time you two were working starts flowing from the headset and you stare down at the notes in front of you, waiting for the moment when you have to start singing.

It takes you a few runs to nail it down, but when you finally do, you can see the satisfied grin on Harry’s face and you think to yourself that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make him like this anytime.

“That was fantastic,” he beams once you join him at the screens where you see your voice appear as a pattern over a straight line. Harry does his usual magic before leaving it be. “Mind assisting recording my part?” he asks turning to you with an excited smile.

Nodding you let him tell you what to do and once he is all set behind the mic, you start the recording and the song. You listen to him in awe. There hasn’t been a moment when you didn’t feel the shiver running down your spine when he started singing. You are convinced a choir of angels is hidden in his throat, because it’s hard to believe he is just as human as everyone else.

He sings the whole song three times before he joins you again, listening back to what you have so far. The song is coming along pretty well and you can tell by the time he finishes it, it’s gonna be perfect. Everything he does is just pure perfection, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“You know how it would be absolutely perfect?” he asks you on your way back to the hotel. The two of you grabbed a coffee as well, so now you’re sipping on the hot drink, enjoying the somewhat sunny weather.

“Hm?”

“I think it would be best if a female voice sang the whole thing and the male was just the vocal.”

“Who do you think would fit best for it then?” you ask, immediately thinking of singers that could be perfect for the song. It wouldn’t be the first time Harry would sell a song to someone else, so you’re not surprised he is thinking about this kind of change.

“Y/N, I found the voice already,” he chuckles and you give him a puzzled look. “You. You are singing the song, I don’t need anyone else.”

“I’m not a solo singer,” you protest.

“There’s no such thing as solo or not solo. You’re a singer and a bloody good one. I want you to sing it.”

“But it would go to waste, because I would never actually perform it.”

“How are you so sure about that?” he smirks slyly at you, immediately making you nervous.

“Harry, I don’t sing solo,” you shake your head stubbornly, but he rolls his eyes at you.

“You could just try it. Let’s just record the song next time with you in the lead and then we can talk about the rest.”

“I’m fine recording, but I will never perform it,” you tell him, but his look makes you think he has other plans.

When tour reaches Dallas, the song gets a version with you singing solo and Harry doing the vocals in it. And though you had doubts about the switch, listening back to it you can tell how much it helped. It really is better with a female voice, though you are still convinced it shouldn’t be you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to someone? I’m fine with that,” you ask him before the show in Dallas. You’re sitting on the table in his dressing room while he is painting his nails, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“I told you, I like it with your voice. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because I’m not a—“

“Fuck’s sake if you dare to tell me one more time that you’re not a solo singer, I’m firing you, Y/N!” he snaps, giving you a hard look, but you just laugh at his temper.

“It’s the truth.”

“Have you ever tried to go solo?”

“Not for years,” you admit and watch him screw the nail polish closed, pushing it aside, his hands lying flat on the table as he is carefully waiting for them to dry.

“So then how do you know you are no good at it?”

“Because I hated it back then, so I most likely would hate it now as well,” you state matter-of-factly, but Harry doesn’t seem amused by your answer.

“So you think you haven’t changed a bit in years? I hope you know that’s absolute bollocks.”

“Why are you so keen on making me sing solo?” you sigh, giving him a tired look. It feels like the two of you have been running the same circles since forever. It’s not his first attempt to get you sing more than just the vocals, he once wanted to do a cover and needed a partner because it was a duet and begged you for weeks to sing with him, but you didn’t give in. You just couldn’t.

“Because I think that you are a talented singer and I want you to feel the adrenaline rush performing gives you.”

“I do get that rush every time I sing behind you. That’s enough for me.”

Harry shakes his head pressing his lips tight together.

“That’s not the same as being in the lead. It’s a whole different world.”

“Yeah, one that makes me shit my pants,” you chuckle and he can’t push a smile back.

“Maybe we should just work on it. Your anxiety. I think we could actually make you feel better if we tried.”

“I still don’t know where this obsession with me being solo comes for you.”

Harry stands up, takes one last look at his nails before he steps closer smiling down at you softly and you bite into your bottom lip, realizing how close he is standing to you. His fingers tap in your cheek gently, running them down to your chin as he tilts your head up a bit.

“Just accept it, Love,” he smiles softly before stepping away and carrying on with his routine.

That evening, you stand at the back with the other two vocalists, eyes glued to Harry’s figure at the front of the stage, you watch him pour his soul out to the audience, interact with them and reach that state of mind you have never been able to get into. You know what he told you about performing is true, yet you are still terrified to do it yourself. It’s too nerve wrecking to have everyone look at and listen to you, so many chances to mess it up and make a fool out of yourself.

But when Harry’s eyes meet yours and he shoots you a warm smile, something shifts in you. The urge to have this connection with not just the audience and the song, but with him takes over your whole body and you make up your mind to at least give it a try.

Harry is ecstatic when you tell him later that night that you changed your mind. You see that sparkle in his eyes and it was already worth for you, just seeing him react like that.

“Though I have a few suggestions to change the lyrics.”

“You do?” he asks, seemingly surprised, but mostly amused that you had the balls to come out with it.

“Yeah. Just some tiny details.”

“Why haven’t you told me about these before?”

“Because it was your song. But if you want me to sing it, it has to be mine as well.” Harry stares back at you with a smile that’s filled with pride and joy, making your heart flutter in your aching chest as you think about performing solo.

“Our song,” he softly says nodding his head.

Arriving to Houston the two of you are quick to book a studio and work on the song. Harry lets you make any changes you desire on the lyrics, even says you did justice to it and that you should have spoken up earlier about your ideas. And then you record it.

It’s not that you have to sing the whole song and not just the vocals this time. You are completely fine with Harry hearing you sing, it’s the thought of performing it in front of anyone that’s not him, that’s what makes you turn into a wreck.

You record Harry’s vocals and once it’s all put together, you are blown by the outcome. You wouldn’t have thought Harry’s voice as the vocal would compliment you in the lead, but it’s just absolutely perfect and even you can’t find anything wrong with it.

“Love, this is what Heaven sounds like, I’m telling you,” he smirks at you from the chair beside you, playing the song for the tenth time, not able to get enough of the final product.

“You are so cheesy,” you shake your head, but feel the blush heating up your cheeks. His eyes linger on you a little longer before he turns back to the screen.

When the song is over he finally stops is so silence comes over the studio. Harry turns back to face you, his green eyes basically burning a hole into your head.

“So, when are we going to perform it?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” you sigh looking down at your hands fumbling with your shirt.

“And I do think it is. So I’m not stopping until you at least try it.”

Harry Styles gets what he wants. Always. And this time, no matter how hard you try to resist him, you just can’t deny this from him. Though it takes him time to talk you up, in Washington he finally gets you to give it a try in an empty stadium.

Most of the crew is out, since the building has been finished about half an hour before, so everything is perfectly set for tonight’s show when you walk out to the stage, following Harry in his heels. He asked the piano to be brought to the front along with a mic on it and another one on a stand next to it. The two of you quietly put on your earpieces, doing everything as if it was a usual occasion before a concert, only that this time the roles will be entirely switched.

“It’s fine, alright? No one is around,” he tells you when he sees how nervous you are to sing the song for the first time outside a studio.

“There are some backstage,” you mumble under your breath, not expecting him to do anything about it.

But he does. You watch him walk backstage, completely dumbfounded about what he is doing. He disappears from your sight and a few moments later you hear him shouting at the back.

“No one comes to the stage until I say so! Yea? Thanks!” he orders and then walks back as if he didn’t just boss around the whole crew.

“They will think you’re some kind of crazy celebrity,” you chuckle when he returns, a small smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Don’t care, Darling. Now sing you heart out for me.”

Harry sits on the piano bench, his fingers getting settled on the keys before he looks up to meet your anxious eyes.

“It’s alright. Just you and me, yea?”

Nodding you gulp hard and jump a little when he starts playing the melody the two of you have been working on for so long. You hear all the notes and you know you have to start singing, but you miss the opening. Harry stops and looks at you, as you move your eyes down to the ground, ashamed you messed up immediately.

“S-Sorry, I just—“

“How can I help?” he asks right away, not even caring about the fact that you messed up, focused on figuring out a way that would help you.

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” you sigh, feeling your nerves getting worse with each passing moment.

“Come sit next to me,” he then tells you motioning for you to join him on the bench.

“What?”

“Take your mic and sit next to me,” he repeats, scooting over to make you space. Hesitantly, you pull the mic out of the stand and walking over you sit next to him. “Now you are not in the center. Just listen to the music, watch my hands on the keys, okay?”

You nod, running your tongue over your dry lips as you hold the mic to your mouth before Harry starts playing again.

After the first few notes you close your eyes and when it’s time for you to start singing, Harry leans a little against you, giving you a kind of push to just do it. And it works.

It feels a little as if it’s not even you who starts singing, but it is. Your voice fills the empty arena along with the piano’s melody and keeping your eyes closed a little longer you let your mind settle. When the first verse ends you open them and watch his hands work on the keys, right as he starts singing the vocals, leaning a little forward so his voice reaches his mic.

It’s different. It’s electric and freeing, hear your voice through the massive speakers, to be in the lead and have Harry be just the support in the song. But it feels so right, better than anything you’ve ever felt.

Line after line, you hit all the notes and by the end of the song you are able to strip all your fears down and give yourself over to the music completely. As you sing the last few notes you feel Harry’s eyes on you and turning to face him, you are met with his warm, pride-filled smile and bright eyes, glued to you while his fingers press down the last notes.

The music dies down, the voice of the piano vibrates in the air a little longer until it completely disappears and the silence returns into the stadium.

“Love,” Harry quietly calls out for you and you turn completely towards him. “That was absolutely perfect.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper, your eyes never leaving his gaze.

“I know so,” he huffs, smile widening. He brings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead as you let out a breath you’ve been holding in for way too long.

He doesn’t try to make you perform that evening, knowing well it was enough for one day, but he does make you sing it with him in each city in the upcoming weeks. Before every concert, he empties out the area around the stage and the two of you sit down at the piano, singing your song until you feel comfortable enough to stand next to the instrument instead of sitting next to him.

The tour reaches New York and Madison Square Garden is getting ready to host Harry Styles for two evenings. The place is massive and you find yourself sitting at the edge of the stage when Harry emerges from backstage.

“Looks wild, right?” he asks sitting next to you, his thigh brushing against yours as he gets seated.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

“This place has the most magical vibe.” “Yeah?” Turning to him you watch him take the arena in, his eyes glistening at the sight in front of him. You know it’s not his first time performing here, but it’s nice to see the excitement in his eyes regardless.

That feeling returns to your chest, the one you felt when Harry told you he wanted you to sing the song. The urge to be part of this amazing something that’s so much bigger than you.

“H?”

“Yea?” he turns to you smiling.

“Can I… Do you think we could sing our song tonight?”

You watch the pure surprise and excitement wash over his face, his smile stretching across his face as he stares back at you in awe.

“You want to sing it?”

Shyly, you nod your head and in a heartbeat his arms lock around you, pulling you into the tightest hug. The two of you almost fall off the stage, laughing together at his dramatic reaction.

“Of course we can sing it, Love. Would be an honor!”

Harry is quick to let the band know about the addition for tonight’s set and though everyone seems surprised, they are all supportive about your solo. As the time goes and the concert gets closer, you can feel the nerves building up and soon enough, you start to doubt your choice to sing the song tonight.

Right before it’s time to go on stage Harry takes your hand and pulls you aside, taking your face in his hands gently, making you look into his eyes.

“I know you are doubting yourself, but just know that I’m very proud of you, even if you decide to not sing the last minute.”

“I could do that?” you whisper, your hands finding his sides and you let them rest on him, a way to ground yourself in the windwhirl of your thoughts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t really want. Though I know you will be amazing if you choose to sing.”

Nodding you let a weak smile appear on your lips and you notice as his eyes flicker down to them before he moves his gaze up to your eyes. He then pulls you into a proper hug before walking back to the rest of the band and vocalists.

Everything goes as usual and once again, you can’t take your eyes off Harry on the stage. Just watching him perform fills you up with life, enough to keep you from running away. About halfway into the set, as the crowd is still cheering after the previous song, Harry jogs over to you.

“You ready?” he asks over the noise and before you could think about it, you nod your head.

Two guys from the crew pushes the piano further to the front and they help to set everything up as you awkwardly stand at the side. Once your mic is in the stand you walk over there, heart hammering in your chest, hands shaking like crazy.

“I have a special song for you tonight,” Harry announces into the microphone as he makes his way over to the piano. “Please welcome the lovely Y/N here, who is gonna enchant you with a song we’ve been working on lately.”

The crowd screams and you allow yourself to look around with a weak smile. So many people, you think to yourself, everyone watching you.

“It’s called Homesick, and it means so much to us, so we hope you’ll like it Justas much as we do,” Harry adds before settling on the bench and his eyes find yours. “I’m proud of you,” you see him say, only able to read his lips since the crowd is screaming so loud. “Ready?” he asks and you nod, taking a shaky breath.

He sends you a warm comforting smile before glancing down at the keys and then he starts playing. 

Just like the first time, you close your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the melody and nothing else. The lump in your throat is quite uncomfortable, but you open your eyes and see that Harry is looking straight at you, nodding in encouragement, as his fingers push down the keys to the notes right before you have to start.

“Here, where the sky’s falling, I’m covered in blue, I’m running and I’m crawling, fighting for you…”

Harry smiles wide when your voice flows through the speakers, filling the whole place, making everyone go quiet in a heartbeat as the song carries on. You feel your chest slowly deflating, the nerves cooling down with each sung note.

“You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know…”

The chorus comes out perfect, your voice melting together with the piano and you finally feel your muscles relax as you slowly let go of every toxic thought that’s been tainting your mind. Harry leans closer to his microphone and his voice gently joins yours in the next verse.

“There’s a crack in my window, a bird in my room, angels all over that watch over you…”

Chills run down your spine hearing his voice, your eyes never leaving his gaze that’s fixated on your standing figure. You get lost in him and the song, something that came from the both of you, a piece of you and him. Standing there, singing this piece makes you feel closer to him than ever and you desperately want this feeling to last forever, hoping the song never ends though you know it’s gonna happen.

“When I’m walking on water all my dreams have come true. Still nothing means nothing without you…”

Homesick is exactly the feeling that bubbles inside you when you think of Harry. Because there’s this man you love so much, who is a home away from home to you, yet you still feel like you can’t be home entirely. Not in the way you’d want to. But standing on the stage in the spotlight, singing together with him as thousands of people are watching the two of you, yet you still manage to forget about them, for a moment, you feel like you finally arrived home. You are there, with him.

“Tell my heart to lie, but I know deep inside it’s true. That I wish I was there with you. That I wish I was there with you, oh I wish I was there with you.”

He plays the end of the song without tearing his eyes away from you, and there’s just a heartbeat of silence before the crowd starts screaming deafeningly, but that short moment… is yours and his.

Tugging your hair behind your ears with your shaky hands, your eardrums on the verge of breaking as you let out a laugh that was kind of a sob as well, relief washing over your body. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and rushing over he envelopes you in a tight hug.

“I’m so so so proud of you, Love. You were everything!” he mumbles, arms holding you so tight you almost lose your breath, but you want him this close, or even closer. You need to feel him, because it doesn’t feel real. His hold brings you a sense of existence only he can give you.

“Thank you, Harry,” you breathe out when he pulls back to look into your eyes, the screaming hasn’t died down even a tad little.

“No, thank you, Darling. You shined like the star that you are,” he grins, playing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before his arms fall off you.

You’d die to stay in this moment a little longer, but the show must go on. The crew pushes the piano back and soon enough, the next song starts. You stay in your spot for the rest, but you keep catching Harry smiling in your way, always making you blush.

The end of a concert is always a little hectic, everyone is all over the place. Still coming off the high you just experienced, you head to the dressing room you share with the other vocalists. They are going on and on about how amazing Homesick was, and you somehow still can’t believe tonight happened. Packing your stuff you barely notice that the door flies open, but you see Harry appear from the corner of your eye.

“Ladies, would you please give me a moment with Y/N?” he asks and the girls are quick to leave the two of you alone. You stand there, kind of dumbfounded, not sure why he is acting so dramatic. Once the door closes and it’s just you and him, he stares at you, chest heaving, his hair wet from his sweat, but he still looks breathtaking.

“Harry—“

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he cuts you off, your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare back at him, completely frozen. Opposite to what he just said, he remains standing in the same spot and you’re not sure what’s happening. “Can I? Please say yes, I can’t hold myself back for any longer,” he then adds.

“Yes,” you breathe out without even thinking about it. In a heartbeat, Harry crosses the room, chest smashing against yours as he wraps his arms around you, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that almost makes you moan into his mouth.

It’s all a hot mess, teeth clashing, hands all over each other before his palms run down to the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. When you do, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him walk over to the table nearby, so he can place you on top, standing between your thighs as he keeps kissing you hungrily, his tongue melting together with yours in this sweet chaos. It keeps going on and on, neither of you wanting to let go of the other, but you are eventually forced to stop, coming short of air. Panting wildly, lips swollen from his kisses, you look at him to meet his gaze.

“You have no idea how hard it was to stop myself from kissing you on stage.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“Y/N, I’m fucking crazy about you and seeing you come over your stage fright, sing that song… our song, fuck, that did some unbelievable things to me. Please tell me you felt the same thing!” He is begging, not just with his words, but with his eyes as well and it crushes your soul entirely.

“I did. Harry, I always do when I’m with you.”

“Fucking Hell,” he breathes out before kissing you again. “You are… everything, Love,” he mumbles against your lips and you can’t push down the smile stretching across your face, hearing him say the same words he said right after the song.

“You’ve told me that,” you tease him, his gaze meeting yours as he flashes you his famous half-smirk, heart fluttering at the sight of him.

[fenristheorem]

Hi! First of all, I just wanted to say that I fell in love with your writing and the way you analyze the characters. Now, there is something that has been on my mind for some time, since I found out that Huang Hua can feel other people's feelings, I just imagine that she found out how Lance started to develop feelings for the Guardian. The secret looks he gives her, the restlessness he feels when she enters.

Hello! Thank you so much for the compliment! ❤

The request wasn’t exactly formatted in the way of the typical ask, so I wasn’t exactly sure if you were requesting this as a hc / scenario or just commenting for a discussion, but since my page is primarily writing requests I can only assume it’s a request lol.

I’m not entirely sure what Huang Hua’s special power exactly is to be honest. Some people say it’s the ability to read souls, or sort of read minds, or emotions, things along those lines. I have a general idea that she can read someone’s inner heart, energy/aura, and true intentions, which sort of combines many of those ideas as well as your ideas in the request, so I’ll be writing with that in mind. I hope you don’t mind! It won’t really have much of a difference on how I write this as the general idea (how it’s used) is the same.

~ Under the cut ~

Huang Hua’s observations as Lance falls in love with Guardienne:

Huang Hua, of course, observed Lance during his years of change at the guard. He certainly did become someone different; wiser, more resilient, more composed. She knew him once before his years of being Ashkore, but if asked, she would say that she would like this new Lance better. His actions have humbled him and made him wiser, and he has a more realistic perspective on life now. She’s not pleased with what he’s done in the past, but she realizes that sometimes someone can be their own worst enemy, and if they rise above that and don’t give in to living their life in self-pity, they can become even greater than they once were and provide greater things than they once could have. It seems like this was one of those cases, so instead of holding his past against him, Huang Hua lets him thrive in his new era and provide what he can for the guard.

However, there was one thing that always bothered Huang Hua about Lance: it was nothing but work with him.

Even prior to being Ashkore, Lance spent very little time to himself. He would take care of himself, of course, but aside from the occasional friends or acquaintances, or the occasional one night stands (I don’t think it’s confirmed that Lance had a lot of one night stands, but looking at Valk’s history we can say it’s probably true), he didn’t really spend much time to himself.

This still holds true in this new era, but Huang Hua understands his reasoning better. Even so, everyone needs a bit of a break sometimes; a time to wind down and de-stress. She’s mentioned this once or twice to him when he seems to be carrying the weight of the guard on his back, and he says he’ll keep it in mind... but never really does anything different.

This changes when Guardienne emerges from the crystal.

Immediately, Huang Hua picks up that Lance is high strung and stressed - although he hides it very well (after all, a soldier shouldn’t be easily visibly stressed out right?) - at her presence... but there’s something else, too. Something... deeper. Admiration? Respect? ... Fear?

And even deeper than that seems to be some other sort of distress... Longing?

This genuinely shocks Huang Hua.

Lance, the destroyer of Eldarya, is scared of Guardienne? Sure she saved the world and put up a good fight, but physically she’s completely out of shape now! A great warrior like him has nothing to fear now!

Except, she’s aware that Lance knows the art of warfare much better than her, and he knows personal things about himself that she doesn’t know, even despite her abilities, so perhaps there’s something she’s overlooking or can’t see.

As leader of the guard - with the ability to learn about some of the most private areas of someone’s life by simply wishing to know - she’s basically promised herself to not use her ability unless necessary.

But Lance being terrified of Guardienne is a valid call for her to use this ability to monitor him, right?

Huang Hua has roughly mastered the art of balancing work and her personal life, so she carries on day to day life with little issues relating to this. She knows how to not let this effect the guard, and knows how to hide it so well that nobody would know that anything is going on, so she allows herself to indulge in the sudden mystery that is Lance and his emotions.

And then she realizes just how deeply Lance feels emotions, and just how influential they can be, and it nearly takes her breath away.

All of the emotions flooding through him at once; the regret, shame, sorrow, anger, and even fear, all have a special place in him. They’re always so consistent, and so overwhelming. For a while, Huang Hua wonders if it’s these emotions that drive him in general.

Yes, this is not the first time she's looked into his inner being to know him better - after all, looking into him is how she knew it was safe to release him back into the guard to train new recruits - but this is the first time since then that she's bothered to truly observe him again, and she's shocked by what is revealed. Huang Hua did not know that Lance still carried the burden of his past actions so heavily upon his heart.

But every once in a while, when Lance and Guardienne aren’t feuding with each other, Huang Hua sees the dark cloud of those horrific emotions clear away, and something... wonderful happens.

Lance holds a tender spot in his heart for Guardienne.

Beyond all of that fear, and anger, and sorrow for everything that’s happened to him and because of him - including what Guardienne went through - is a soft spot for the woman he hurt most.

Huang Hua nearly gets whiplash from the sudden realization.

And then she gets curious, perhaps more curious than she should have been.

How long has that been going on for? Did he feel this way before the final war? Is this another reason why he kidnapped her and ran to Memoria? ... Would he have even have been able to feel this way back then?

Huang Hua has never been more interested in someone else’s relationship drama.

She takes to observing his actions over time, trying to decipher what he does for what reasons, and then finds that when he’s not doing things out of responsibility, he tries to make things a bit easier for Guardienne. He keeps his distance, sure, but if there’s anything subtle that he can do behind the scenes to help her, he typically does so.

On occasion - when Guardienne isn’t paying attention to him - he’ll observe her as Huang Hua observes him. She can’t read his thoughts, but she can at least guess what’s going through his mind by the emotions that flood through him, and a common emotion she’s picked up on is cautious hope. 

Hope for what? That Guardienne will manage to fix a future mistake he fears making on accident? That she’ll someday forgive him, or move past looking at him and always seeing his past actions? That perhaps someday they can actually be close with each other?

As much as Huang Hua understands why Guardienne is so persistent on being cautious about Lance, she can’t help but hope that one day soon she may relax around him and trust him, perhaps even grow closer than just co-workers or friends.

After all, the savior of Eldarya and destroyer of Eldarya in love? That’s a story of impossible odds, tragic stories, and bending the world’s rules that people write legends and stories about! But it’s also a symbol of hope and faith; that if Eldarya’s savior can one day look past the actions of Eldarya’s destroyer and fall in love with him, then who’s to say that anything is in vain? Who’s to say that moving forward alongside one’s past enemy - despite their past wars - is a fate hopeless and filled with inevitable hurt? Their story could be passed down through legends, and teach important stories to future generations. Among that, she would be a good influence on him! She knows how to relax and spend time with friends, and knows how to stand up and fight and hope for the best even in the darkest times. If the sky were to fall in their future, and their loyalty lie with each other, Guardienne’s hope and faith could be the sole driving force for Lance to perform wonderful miracles. He has the strength, stubbornness, and resources to do so, he just needs the faith.

And then Huang Hua realizes he does have hope and faith... but it’s invested in her.

Guardienne - just like for everyone else - is a representation of hope, but in different ways for Lance than with everyone else. He’s aware of the possibility that she may never be able to see past his former actions but he still works hard regardless, and not to impress her or make anything up, but because he knows that that’s what she would want from him, even if she has her doubts about him.

The Phoenix begins to see a side of the Dragon that she’s never seen before, and she doesn’t know if she approves or disapproves.

Lance begins to work even harder in Guardienne’s presence, and this concerns Huang Hua for a while. He works himself hard enough, how is it possible that he can still give more? Doesn’t he ever get stressed? Will this somehow kill him from overworking? And yet, as she continues to observe him, he still manages himself just fine, and now he’s even more driven to protect Eldarya. 

These observations carry on for a long time, and as time continues on, Lance manages to sort out his emotions a bit more, identifying exactly how he feels about Guardienne and learning exactly what pleases her. He does his best to provide what he can for Guardienne, in all aspects of life. However, Huang Hua notices that Lance continues to keep a distance from the Aengel.

This makes her wonder; why is he being so cautious with her? Surely they’ve calmed down to each other by now?

But a small look at how Guardienne is feeling makes her realize why Lance is still keeping away from her; she’s still scared of him, and Lance can sense this.

The Phoenix gains a deeper sense of respect for Lance.

He loves Guardienne, and craves to be closer to her, but notices subtle gestures that she may not even know she does that tell him she still can’t fully accept being around him. Despite his want to be closer, he respects her need for space, and Huang Hua has a feeling that he would keep doing that for the rest of his life if that’s what Guardienne needed. However, even while knowing that she can’t stand to be around him, he still works hard with her in mind.

His loyalty to a woman who can barely stand him nearly makes Huang Hua swoon. This is not a common thing with people, others rarely have this deep of a sense of loyalty to one person - especially someone they hurt who keeps pushing them away; they usually just split up in time - but Lance is firm in his loyalty and persistence for Guardienne.

And then Huang Hua starts to catch him displaying subtle physical signs of his interest. Perhaps he’s decided it’s time to push the boundary? Was he really willing to take the risk of upsetting her?

His eyes will linger on her, no matter where they are, only looking away when he feels as though he’s at risk of being caught. He’ll try and stay physically close to Guardienne when he can, standing close to her side, and on occasion when he leads her somewhere he’ll touch her gently, even if for a moment. He’ll place his hand on her back or shoulder for a few heartbeats, guiding her in the direction they need to head in, and he’ll take her arm softly when he pulls her aside from somewhere to talk to her. Guardienne’s reaction really depends on her mood. If she’s irritated or is feeling threatened, Huang Hua observed, she’ll pull away from him, possibly even snapping back with a blatant statement of “don’t touch me!”. Lance remains calm and collected, but Huang Hua is aware of the jolt of pain that thunders through him when she rejects him, as that same jolt ripples through her as she observes his emotions. However, he never holds it against her, and almost seems to be expecting this sometimes.

On the other hand, every once in a while when Guardienne is having a good moment where she seems to be more trusting of Lance, she’ll allow him to touch her for longer, and Huang Hua could swear she could pick up some sort of... longing, or perhaps disappointment, from her when he pulls away.

And during these times, there’s something that happens between them when they touch. A tension seems to crackle in the air, so thick that Huang Hua is sure that they can see it, and is shocked that no one else can see it. But how could they? No one else has her powers.

This tension is what sparks Huang Hua to become truly invested in their possible relationship. Most of the time Lance and Guardienne don’t seem to know what to make of their relationship, but Huang Hua knows there’s something there that can’t be ignored. Sometimes she finds herself thinking to Guardienne “Oh, kiss him you fool!” when Lance is being particularly tender with her, laying all his tragic emotions bare in front of her as they talk about a harsh topic for him, or when he tells her that he’s glad she talks about important things with him every once in a while, even if it is hard for him. Guardienne didn’t seem to realize that this wasn’t a common thing with Lance; he wouldn’t lie about his emotions, but he was very evasive with talking about his past. To get him to talk openly about his past and have him openly admit his regrets was a rare sight - not because he didn’t like to admit his regrets, but because he felt it wasn’t relevant anymore. It was seven years ago, and he had clearly changed since. He regretted his actions, he wished it never turned out this way, he tries to keep it from repeating in the future; what more needed to be said about the subject?

In this time, Huang Hua begins to realize just how deep his emotions for her run.

Lance had a respect for Guardienne, for every part of her, even when she screwed up a bit or caused a bit of chaos, even if he was angry with her. He admired her stubbornness and diligence at defending the guard and Eldarya, and her optimism even in the darkest hours always had a tendency to shake him to his core and snap some sense back into him. Huang Hua began to notice that his emotions on him pursuing her reflected her emotions during dark hours of their story; it wasn’t over until it was over, and as long as there was a possibility that something could change for the better, that possibility should be sought after.

The Phoenix begins to understand why Miiko once had such intense feelings for the Ice Dragon. Even though so many things have happened to him and because of him, he refuses to be held back or muted. He still allows himself to be who he is at heart, and doesn’t care if others like his personality or not. He had confidence in himself, even after the terrible things he’s done. Lance knew very well the extent of his abilities, and was aware that the most important thing about those abilities were how they were used. He had committed atrocities, sure, but he was confident in himself now because he knows he’s not using his strengths for wrong anymore. He has chosen to fight for good, he can see clearly now, and his loyalties lie with the guard, and, overall, with Guardienne.

However, Huang Hua picks up another emotion as she observes Lance over time, and she’s unsure of if it comes from him, or from herself because of what's beginning to be revealed to her about him.

Some sort of hollow loneliness pierces her chest every once in a while as she watches him. He doesn’t have close friends, he doesn’t pursue any other women, and he doesn’t allow himself much time to relax. Lance is a ghost that drifts around the guard, searching for some true place not within the responsibilities, but within the people he protects.

His past makes him hard to relate to, his perception vastly differs from most faeries, and his emotions are a deep well of running water, constantly shifting and redesigning who he is in any given moment, and yet he strives to find his own place within the guard, not as the Leader of Obsidian, but as Lance; the Ice Dragon, the man, the deep ocean of emotions and history who may very well never find a home among a people he can truly call his. Still he remains the same person inside, but always he is adjusting for the outside world, and he had yet to find someone who would risk unraveling his constant adapting to truly know the man underneath.

But everyday he rises to that challenge, brushing off the echoing thought that perhaps he doesn’t belong among these people - that perhaps he may never find peace here at the guard - because he knows he’s best fit for this responsibility. He can protect these faeries better than anyone else could, and his morals lie first with that, and second with his own fantasies.

Even so, Huang Hua doesn’t miss the hollow echo in Lance’s soul as he watches the guard celebrate, or witnesses close friends embrace each other and confide in each other, and she realizes that Lance doesn’t truly feel at peace here, not at all - not among the people who he’s betrayed and become an outcast from. He feels no peace at all among these people, they are not his people... but perhaps, when he looks at her - Guardienne - within her hope he finds peace, and someday, perhaps, he may find peace, a home, within her arms. 

Was it possible that, even as Ashkore, he felt he felt he could find solace within her? Some opening within the dark clouds that overshadowed his existence for him to strive towards?

Did Lance believe that Guardienne made him a better man, even more so than he already is?

By mere chance Huang Hua managed to piece together everything she knew of Lance and his relationship to Guardienne, and she came to realize that there was something between them for a long time. It was deep, and complicated, and was never able to be pursued until now. The Dragon’s emotions for Guardienne ran deeper than any of Eldarya’s oceans, farther than the furthest mapped points, and was purer than even the Aengel’s powers. 

Lance was truly in love with her. Not her powers, not her history, he fell in love with a woman who moved something within him that no one has ever touched before.

The Phoenix almost begins to feel guilty over time.

There was something there for a long time. Did Guardienne know this? Did she need a wake up call in order to realize what was happening before her? Was Huang Hua supposed to intervene and help get their relationship going?

If only she knew...

I shouldn’t interfere with this, Lance would feel violated and Guardienne wouldn’t trust me ever again...

But isn’t it a shame to let them possibly waste their life away not telling each other how they feel, or giving this a chance?

Stress eventually invades Huang Hua throughout her days, even when she's not around Lance and Guardienne. The Dragon and the Aengel, in time, grow ever closer, ever more comfortable with each other, and may even be expressing signs of interest for each other! But no one is doing anything about it!

But no one can see the deep roots of their feelings like Huang Hua can, and she's nearly certain that Lance and Guardienne will continue to tip toe around each other in a fearful dance of figuring out where they fit into each other's lives, never daring to test deeper waters in fear of hurting the other and sparking off another bout of painful emotions that may haunt them, and the guard, for years.

It's very possible that their relationship could change the guard and Eldarya - positively - forever, so doesn't this give Huang Hua some right to try and push them together? But romantic relationships are so personal, especially ones as special as this. A unique relationship like theirs shouldn't be interfered with, it will bloom in time if given the right opportunity... but what if Huang Hua can create the right opportunity!? But that's still interfering in their relationship!

Without even knowing, the emotional toll of observing and pondering over Lance and Guardienne's relationship does begin to take effect on her, and Huang Hua's own partner, Ewelein, is the first to notice and call it out.

The leader of the guard then needed to decide if she was willing to indulge her partner, someone completely unrelated to the matter, in her almost stalker-like tendencies of observing the simmering relationship between the guard's resident Dragon and Aengel.

Eventually she breaks and admits to the Elf that she's been observing the inner worlds of Lance and Guardienne as of late, and has realized just how much of a mistake and a blessing it's been.

The first thing Ewelein jumps to is the fact that it's an invasion of privacy, something that - of everyone in the guard - the leader especially should not be partaking in. Huang Hua doesn't really fight back on that idea; she knows it was inappropriate, she should have just approached Lance and asked if he was alright.

"But of course he would say that he's alright! Maybe a bit unsettled, but come on, at the end of the day nothing shakes him for long, and to him that translates to he's alright!"

Eventually its clear to Ewelein that regardless of how Huang Hua came to be in this position, she's trapped in it now, and feels very passionately about the possible romance brewing within the guard, to the point where it truly is stressing her in possibly unhealthy ways.

Ewelein does her best to comfort Huang Hua as she spills everything that's been revealed to her, starting from the beginning of when Lance and Guardienne were still fearful of each other, to the most current moments of when they've been relying on each other, talking civilly, and even possibly shyly flirting. The Elf is quiet and attentive all throughout, knowing that - even as she's surprised in many ways as well by the things time has revealed about Lance and Guardienne - her shock and emotions couldn't begin to rival what Huang Hua has been feeling for the past endless days that she's been observing them.

“I can’t believe it! This is love that stories are written about, that changes worlds and changes people. And he’s hiding it so easily!”

"But would it be right of you to intervene? This is their story, not yours."

"I know, but couldn't this be good for the guard, too? And possibly even Eldarya? And as the leader of the guard, shouldn't I try and do what I think could benefit us?"

"You first started observing Lance under the excuse that it was for professional reasons, to make sure that he was alright to remain in power and carry out his responsibilities despite her presence, but we both know you did it for selfish reasons, too. You were curious as to why Lance felt what he did about her, and now you have your answer. However, you kept observing them after that, even going as far as reading into Guardienne's responses to Lance. Is that professional at all? And instead of invading her privacy, don't you think she would have told you the truth of her fearful emotions for Lance if you asked her heart to heart?"

Huang Hua lowered her head and avoided her gaze.

"You've gotten your professional answers and now you've seen into a very private portion of two people's lives. None of this is professional anymore, so you can't act professionally on it. You need to treat this as what it is; intimate, personal, and something that should be respected, not exploited. I know it would make sense to try and get this to help the guard, but really, there is no guarantee of that. What if they got together and then broke up a while after? What would the message be then, especially if it were known that you set them up together? My advice is to stay back and let this develop in time. Sometimes when I'm with a patient there is nothing I can do for them, sometimes leaving the body alone to heal itself is the best thing to do. I think this is a case where that rule should be applied. The best thing you can do is let them figure out their relationship in time. You can support them, but do not influence them."

Huang Hua knows Ewelein is right, and forever appreciates her partner listening to her thoughts. If Lance and Guardienne's relationship were to be true, they needed to figure out what they meant to each other in their own time.

So Huang Hua follows the Elf's advice. She bites her tongue and hides the fact that she’s witnessed almost every moment of him falling in love with Guardienne, vigilantly awaiting the day where Lance decided to emerge from the dark and shake the guard’s history for a second time.

Goodness this took a while to write, but I'm very pleased with the results! I think I got a good idea of Huang Hua's reaction and how her reaction developed in time in response to Lance and Guardienne growing closer, especially since I don't think her reaction would begin and end within one day of realizing what was going on.

Thanks for asking!

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[nerdyfangirl67]

A Piece of You - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Spencer x fem!reader

Warning: Spencer in prison, angst!, language, post prison!Spencer, PTSD symptoms, fluff ending

Word count: 5951

Short summary: Reader finds she is pregnant just as Spencer is sent to prison.

A/N: Y/F/N means your first name. Y/L/N means your last name. Y/N means your name. And Y/C/M means your comfort movie. I chose for the baby in the fic to be a girl, but feel free to change it when you read it. I found a blog post on the internet that stated Reid was in jail for about 84 days, so I added some to accommodate time for travel, etc and am going with it. I also changed a few things, like Spencer coming home without the reader knowing and I didn’t include his mother as much either, to add to the storyline. And I added/made up a few details with the whole prison call/visit things so it may not ring true. Link here: click

A warm pair of lips placing feather-lite kisses on your face pulls you away from the comforting arms of sleep. You sluggishly open your eyes, blinking the blurry figure leaning over you in the darkness of the bedroom into focus.

“Spence?” You drawl out, reaching a hand up to weave into his curly hair. “Don’t go.” He lets out a small laugh as he gently unthreads your hand from his hair. “I’ve got to go Y/N.” He says reluctantly, moving to rest his forehead against yours for a moment. You close your eyes, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. 

“I love you.” You murmur, your breath fanning across Spencer’s face. You reach up enough to press your lips against Spencer’s in a tender kiss. “Come home safe.” 

“I love you too Y/N. Go back to sleep.” He says as he brings the comforter back up over your shoulders. “I’ll be home before you know it.” 

If you had known that the kiss you’d given Spencer before he left for his trip to Mexico would have been the last you’d be able give him for the next 89 days (you had been counting), you would’ve made it more than a sleepy, wet kiss as you yearned for your bed. You would have hugged him tight, pressing your face into his chest, deeply breathing his musk in as you listen to his heartbeat. You would have pulled him in for two, three, four more kisses, murmuring words of love between each.

Most importantly, you would have told him what you had found out only the night before when he had been at work, that you were pregnant. If only you had known what was to happen, you could have saved yourself from the hell to come. 

---

No matter the case, Spencer always made sure to call, or at the very least text, you once a day. But after two days of radio silence, you were starting to worry. You had called him twice, leaving him a message each time asking him to call you when he could. You sent him quite a few text messages as well, becoming more and more concerned as time passed but you receive no call back from him.

By the fifth day, despite having sent a number of additional text messages and leaving enough voicemails to fill Spencer’s inbox, you still hadn’t heard from him. You are so worried that you can hardly focus at work. In fact, you are so distracted by thoughts of Spencer being kidnapped or him being shot and bleeding out in an alley that you got pulled into your boss’s office and reprimanded for your “airhead behavior”, as your boss had put it. When you arrive home, you are gripped with such anxiety and fear that you can only grab one of Spencer’s large sweaters and curl up in bed with it. You can’t even bring yourself to take off your shoes. 

The ringing of your phone early the next morning pulls you from the trance you had been in all night. You frantically start looking for your phone and quickly find it on Spencer’s side of the bed, answering it without looking at the number. 

“Spencer? Is that you? Are you okay?” You blurt out, not allowing the other person to talk before you are firing questions at them.

“Is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?” The voice on the other side asks quickly, stopping you. You immediately know it isn’t Spencer, just as much as you know that it isn’t someone you know. 

“Yes. May I ask who this is and what it is regarding?” You ask nervously, your heart quickening as you wait what feels like an eternity for them to answer. 

“I’m Penelope Garcia and I work with Spencer at the FBI.” She pauses for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to continue. “You were the most called number in the call log on Spencer’s phone and I felt like this is something you should know, as he seems to be someone very important to you, and vice versa.” The brokenness of her voice causes the worry in your chest to bubble up again. “Spencer is in jail...in Mexico.” 

“Wh-what?” You struggle to wrap your mind around what she is saying as you climb out of bed, rushing to find your discarded jacket and set of keys from the night before. You aren’t entirely sure why you’re rushing, or even where you’d be going, but that doesn’t slow you down. “Was there a case in Mexico? What happened?” 

“There wasn’t a case. He took some personal days and went to Mexico for some experimental medication for his mother. He...um..he was arrested for murder, but he doesn’t remember anything.” 

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to sit in one of the living room chairs as you try to fight off the sobs rising in your chest. “Is he, is he going to stay in Mexico? I mean, is he, no, when will...he didn’t do it.” You stammer out, as you try to slow your racing thoughts, stop the inevitable tears from falling, and make your word coherent. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I don’t have the answers to those questions yet. But, I can keep you updated if you’d like. The team left a few hours for Mexico to help Reid. They want to get him transferred to a prison in the states.” Her voice is comforting, but does nothing to tamp down the feeling of impending disaster that is rising in you. You manage to get out a shaky goodbye to Penelope before you lose grip on your emotions.

You struggle to get a proper breath through the onslaught of tears as the reality of the situation hits you. Your phone clatters to the floor as you bury your face in your arms, drawing your legs up to yourself as you try to push it all away. Eventually the tears slow and stop. You gradually unfurl from the cramped up position you had been in. You numbly make your way to the kitchen and somehow manage to make yourself breakfast. The rest of the day passes in a hazy blur, with you almost forgetting that you were supposed to be at work (you called in sick once you remembered, but your boss wasn’t happy the call was coming in three hours late). You spend the night, clutching Spencer’s pillow and wishing that this were all a dream. You don’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, when the exhaustion of the last few days finally overtakes you.

The ringing of your phone wakes you later that morning, serving as a reminder that you have to face the day ahead, as much as you don’t want to.

“Y/F/N? This is Penelope with the FBI. I called you yesterday about Spencer.” Her greeting has you sitting up, trying to clear the foggy cloud from your brain so you could think. 

“Penelope, have you found anything else out? How is Spencer?” You plow over any possible pleasantries as you ask the question that had been on your mind for the last day.

“The team was able to get him extradited to the United States.” She starts, her words helping to ease some of the anxiety that had built up since you had learned about Spencer’s imprisonment. “He isn’t out yet, but the team is working on his case. In the meantime, I’m setting up a visitor schedule. If you’d want to come down to Quantico, I can help you fill out the necessary paperwork and get on the schedule to see him, if you’d like.” You quickly voiced your agreement and after getting directions and setting a time, you hung up with Penelope, your mood considerably elevated for the first time in days. 

A glance at the clock has you scrambling out of the bed and to your closet. You had completely forgotten about the doctor’s appointment you had scheduled days ago, before your world had been flipped upside down. You manage to get dressed and ready to go in less than ten minutes, arriving at your appointment only a few minutes late.

Your appointment is short as the doctor just does a routine exam, confirming your pregnancy and letting you know that the baby was healthy so far. You receive a list of different things to avoid (such as caffeine and smoking) and a few different things that are beneficial to your, and the baby’s, health (such as prenatal vitamins). After your appointment, you quickly stop at the store to pick up a few things suggested by the doctor, before heading back to Spencer’s apartment, where you had been staying. Although he had never officially asked you to move in, you had been staying at his apartment most nights for the past few months and had your own drawer and spot in his closet. And with the events of the past few days, it had just felt right to stay, almost as if you had one small part of him still with you. 

 You go to bed early that night, really early, in hopes of getting the time to pass quicker. The prospect of seeing Spencer has you anxious and excited at the same time, making sleep nearly impossible. After a few hours of tossing and turning, with no sleep, you climb out of bed and get dressed. You grab your purse and keys before leaving the apartment. You walk the short distance to your car and start it. Despite knowing that you would be hours early to your meeting with Penelope, you still start the drive to Quantico and the FBI building. 

After almost an hour in the car, and twenty minutes with security (in which they had to confirm your meeting with Penelope before they gave you a visitor credential), you finally made your way to the floor where the BAU team worked. Your eyes scan the bullpen and immediately you recognize Spencer’s desk, even though you had never seen it before. You recognize the pattern in which the items are placed and the semi-clearness of his desk space; it is identical to the desk he uses for work at home. You make your way towards it, tracing a finger along the fake wood edge as you take a seat in his desk chair. Sitting here, you can almost feel his presence behind you, his voice speaking up, sharing an idea he had or some crazy fact, his fingers tapping along the edge of his desk. You take comfort in the feeling as you rest your head in your arms on his desktop. It isn’t long before you are closing your eyes and falling into a light sleep.

A tap on your shoulder jerks you awake, causing you to fly up in a sitting position and blink at the harsh light of the bullpen. “You must be Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m Penelope Garcia.” A cheery blonde, wearing a bright orange dress and matching hair accessory, as well as holding a bright pink pom topped pen. 

You stand, smoothing out any wrinkles in your outfit before offering a hand out to her. “Yes, that’s me.” She takes your hand but instead of shaking it, pulls you into a hug. You are taken back by her forwardness, but give her a squeeze in return.

“Let’s go see what we can do to get you on the visitor list.” She says softly, leading the way to what you could only describe as her office, although it more resembled a cave, filled with more types of technology than you would know what to do with.

Penelope gestures to a black swivel desk chair set next to the wall. “Here, take a seat. I’m going to pull up Spencer’s information and see if we can get you some visitor paperwork.” She says as you take a seat in the chair. The longer you sit there, the more nervous you feel. Unconsciously, you rest your hand on your lower stomach, right over the small bump that was starting to form. 

You don’t realize that you are zoned out until Penelope clears her throat. “Are you okay?” She nods at your hand resting on your stomach. You quickly pull it away, straightening up in your seat. “Yes, I’m fine.”

She gives you a long stare before speaking. “I have some good news and some bad news Y/N.” You nod, waiting for her to speak with bated breath. “The good news - you can call Spencer.” 

You wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. “And the bad news?”

“I can’t add you to the visitor list. It seems that Spencer doesn’t want you to come see him as a visitor.” She can’t look you in the eye as she says that.

You are quiet after that, not entirely sure what to say. The thought that he doesn’t want to see you hurts. But you also know Spencer, and whatever the reason, you know he has one.

“He can take a call in about five minutes if you want to get on the call list.” She says, looking up from one of her monitors at you. You nod quickly, before voicing your agreement. The five minutes of waiting seemed to go on forever, but finally, she is patching through to a prison phone. “Here you go, he should be on the other line now.” The fact that she immediately gave the phone to you, instead of taking some of the time to talk to him, had you smiling gratefully at her. ‘Thank you’, you mouth as you take the phone. 

“Spencer? Is that you?” You ask, your heart in your throat as you wait to hear his voice.

“Y/N, it’s so good to hear your voice.” He speaks quietly, the low quality of the phone call causing his voice to crackle.

“I know you didn’t do it Spencer. Whatever they are saying, it isn’t true.” You whisper, clutching the handset close to your ear, as if that would bring him closer to you. 

“Y/N...I don’t know-” He starts but you cut him off, knowing he was going to tell you he wasn’t sure what had happened.

“I know Spencer, but I also know you. And that isn’t who you are.” You say thickly, as you fight back the coming tears. “I want to see you Spencer. Why don’t you have me on your visitor list?”

“I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to see me here.” You start to argue that it doesn’t matter, but some yelling in the background cuts you off, after which Spencer says, “I’ve got less than a minute Y/N before I’ve got to hang up.” He says solemnly, the sorrow in his voice echoing the sorrow you felt. 

You push aside the topic of seeing him, not wanting to waste what little time you had left talking to him by arguing. “I love you Spencer. Don’t forget that okay? I don’t care how long it takes, we-I will be here when you come home. You have a lot of people here in your corner Spencer. They will get you out.” You push back the tears as you talk, not wanting him to hear you cry.

“Gosh, I love you and I miss you. I wish I was th-” His voice is cut off, followed shortly by a dial tone.

You grip at the handset, calling “Spencer? Spencer?!”, wishing for him to respond.

“I’m sorry Y/N. The call ended.” Penelope says quietly. You hand over the handset, moving to sit back in the swivel chair against the wall, roughly wiping away the evidence of your tears as you do.

“What do we do now?” You ask through the tears.

“We wait. The team is working on his case and I will keep you updated on everything that happens. Do you need anything?” She asks, giving you a good look.

You are telling her before you consciously realize what you are doing. “I-I’m pregnant. I just found out and I haven’t had the chance to tell Spencer. I don’t know what to do. I want to tell him when I can see him face to face, when he can enjoy it for what it is, a blessing. But I hate hiding things from him.”

Penelope gives out a little squeal, bouncing up from her chair to hug you tight. “Oh, you are gonna have a baby Reid!” She says loudly, taking a step back from you. The look on your face must have given away the shock on your face because she is quickly apologizing. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. What can I do to help Y/N?”

“I just, I need someone to talk to. I miss him, a lot. It’s hard to be going through this alone.” You whisper, looking down at your hands in your lap. 

“Girl, you don’t have to ask. I’d love to be your friend.” She says excitedly, giving you a soft shoulder bump. “And I’m going to do everything I can to get the boy wonder home to you.” She gives you a small smile. “And your little one.”

---

The days follow a routine after that. Work, talking to Penelope, and the occasional doctor’s appointment. Penelope comes to some of the appointments as support, which you appreciate, and when you find out the gender, she insists on going shopping for baby items with you. You are able to talk to Spencer a few more times, although each phone call is shorter than the last, and leaves you missing him even more. 

Each doctor’s appointment is harder than the last. All you could think of when you hear the baby’s heartbeat is that Spencer wasn’t there. All you could think of when you feel the baby move for the first time is that Spencer might never be able to feel your baby move like that. He might never get the chance to feel your baby kick. All you can think of when you hear the gender of your baby is that Spencer might never get to experience that excitement, that joy, of imagining all the future things that might be in store for the baby. 

---

Late one evening in early May, after a long day at work (which you had spent almost entirely on your feet) and a feeling of nausea that had lasted all day, you dig through Spencer’s side of the closet and grab one of his cardigans. You pull it on, wrapping around you as well as you can with your growing belly getting in the way. 

You grab one of the many books resting on Spencer’s side table, taking it with you as you head to the living room. You pull the afghan blanket off of the back of the leather wingback, carrying it with you as you move to the dark leather couch. You get comfortable, wrapping the blanket around your legs and waist before opening the random book you had grabbed.

It isn’t long before the story has your eyelids drooping and your muscles relaxing, giving into the cloud of exhaustion that hung over you. The book, forgotten and half-open, falling to the floor doesn’t wake you, and neither does your cell phone, distant and tinny, as it rings from the bedroom. You don’t wake at the jingling of a key in the lock or the opening of the apartment door. However, the heavy thud that follows the apartment door falling shut has you jerking awake, one hand coming to rest on the swell of your abdomen, the other on the back of the couch. You struggle a bit to sit up, but when you do, after taking a moment to study the intruder, you realize it’s Spencer.

“Spencer?” You whisper, moving slowly from the couch, not entirely sure if he was real or a figment of your imagination. Either way, you didn’t want to scare him away. You stop when you are a foot from him. You search his light brown, almost hazel eyes, the pain and darkness within them, swirling around and hardening his expression. You tentatively reach out with your hand to caress his face. Your fingers slowly graze his stubble covered jaw before you move to rest it against his cheek. 

He leans into your touch, bringing his large, rough hand up to cover yours. Your eyes fill with tears, causing your view of him to become blurry and before you can stop yourself, you are throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can get. 

He is quick to return the hug, but after a brief moment, he becomes stiff, his arms sliding loosely down your back. You step back, feeling hurt and confused at his sudden rejection of your affection.

“What’s wrong?” You murmur as you roughly wipe a hand across your face, trying to get rid of the tears that were running down your face. 

“You’re pregnant.” He states, his eyes no longer looking at your face, but instead, your belly.

Your heart beats faster, a rush of excitement going through you. This was it, the moment you’d been waiting for. You’d finally get to tell Spencer that he was going to be a father.

“Spencer, it’s ours.” You answer softly, gently taking his hand in yours and placing right above where the baby typically kicked. “You’re going to be a father.” 

“I-I am?” He questions in disbelief. His hand, which had been rigidly resting on your belly, slowly relaxes just as the baby kicks. He jerks his hand away, stepping back and bumping into the door. He brings his hands up, pushing them into his hair. His fingers grip onto the long, curly locks as uses his palms to cover his eyes. 

“No, this isn’t happening, it’s a dream. I don’t deserve this.” He is rambling now as he slowly slides down the door, landing in a sitting position. His face is still covered with his hands as he continues to ramble. “This isn’t real. I don’t deserve this.” 

“Spencer?” You murmur, keeping your voice low, but audible as you kneel down beside him. You place a gentle hand on his arm, afraid that your touch might startle him. He doesn’t move as he continues to talk to himself. You bring your other hand up to cradle his still covered face. You stay this way for a long time, holding him as much as he’ll allow in his closed off position. Eventually, he stops muttering to himself and is quiet. You shift then, until you're sitting next to him against the door. 

“Lie down, Spencer.” You whisper softly, brushing a lock of his hair back away from his face when he turned to face you. You slide your hand from his hair and over his shoulder, gently pulling him down towards you. He didn’t resist, placing his head in your lap and allowing you to run your fingers through his hair. 

The two of you stay that way until your butt goes numb from sitting in the same place for so long. You squeeze Spencer’s shoulder with your hand to get his attention. “Let’s go to bed, Spence.” You say. He slowly gets up, offering you a hand as he does, avoiding any accidental brushing of your stomach as he did. You keep his hand in yours as he leads the way to the bedroom, only letting go when you move to your side of the bed and get in. He is gone for a few minutes, coming back with a low-slung pair of gray sweatpants and an old college T-shirt on. He gets in bed, but instead of wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close as he usually did, he simply laces his fingers through yours. 

Weeks pass this way, with you and Spencer going back to life as it was, or at least as much as the two of you could with Spencer’s new work schedule and the fact that you were getting closer and closer to your due date. The fact that things remained the same though, as they had been when Spencer arrived home for the first time, was what worried you.

Never once did Spencer engage in the conversations you started about the baby or the nursery you wanted in the small spare room across from the bedroom you and Spencer shared. Whenever you commented that the baby was kicking, he found some excuse to leave the room. He still only ever held your hand at night, completely avoiding your ever-growing belly both in bed and anywhere else. It was almost as if he was trying to pretend as if you weren’t actually pregnant, as if what was happening wasn’t reality.  Not only were you constantly uncomfortable, tired and just all around ready for the baby to come, but you were frustrated that Spencer still acted as if you weren’t pregnant, as if anytime within the next few weeks you wouldn’t be handed a newborn, making the two of you parents. You had finally had enough when you had mentioned going shopping for baby supplies about two weeks prior to your due date and he ignored you, continuing to wash the dishes. At first you thought he hadn’t heard you, so you repeat yourself, but when he acted much the same way a second time, you slam your hand on the table.

“Spencer, you can’t ignore this pregnancy. It may not be something you want right now, or ever, but you can’t just ignore it.” You snap at him, the irritation you had been feeling at his callous behavior finally surfacing. He doesn’t answer as he continues to wash the dishes from dinner. You can tell he heard you though, by the unnecessary sheer force he was using to scrub the plate in his hand.

“Spencer,” you pause, waiting until he is looking at you before continuing. “You have to find a way to accept it. This baby is coming.” Your tone is softer now, but your words don’t hold any less bite.

“I can’t accept it Y/N. Accepting it means it’s reality.” He lets out a harsh, joyless laugh. “And the reality is that I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve a baby. And I definitely don’t deserve this life with you.” He is no longer facing you, rather his back is to you, his shoulders tensed and hunched. 

You place a tender hand on his elbow, wanting him to turn so you could see his face. Instead he roughly pulls his elbow out of your hold, flinging soapy water through the air before returning to the plate. “Spencer, look at me.” You try to speak clearly, steadily, but your voice cracks, betraying the emotion behind your words. 

He does as you ask, but his face is twisted and dark in a way you had never seen before. “Damnit Y/N. You have no idea what I’ve done or who I am.” He is yelling at you now, waving a half washed dish to emphasize his point, causing you to take a step backwards. “You think I should be the father of that child,” he gestures wildly at your belly, “when you don’t even know who I am, what I am.” He drops the plate and the sponge, letting them clatter loudly against the metal basin of the sink, as he walks towards the front door of the apartment, his hands still dripping wet. 

“Where are you going?” Your words are barely audible as you try to force them past the growing lump in your throat. 

He ignores your question as he grabs his jacket from the coat rack by the door and leaves the apartment. The loud thud of the door closings clangs against your ears, the tears you had been trying to hold back freely falling now. You were beyond angry at him, despite knowing you shouldn’t be because he had gone through hell the past few months. You couldn’t bring yourself to wait for him to come back. You were tired of the constant bickering and the numerous different times he had chosen to ignore any mention of your pregnancy or the baby.

You quickly fill your duffle bag with the things you’d need for a few days as you called Penelope. The phone rings three times before she answers with a bright, cheery “hello, Garcia.” 

“Penelope, hey. It’s Y/N. Can I stay at your place for a few nights?” You ask as you zip your bag closed. “I need some space from Spencer.” 

“Of course girl. You’re welcome anytime.” She says warmly. “I’ll get the couch made up and Y/C/M queued up on the TV.”

“Thanks Penelope. I’ll see you soon.” You end the call and upon reaching the kitchen, you find a piece of paper and a pen.

Spencer,

I am going to stay with Penelope for a few days. I just need some space.

I’ll be back in a few days.

I love you.

Y/N

You magnet the note to the fridge, where Spencer will be able to find it. You then grab your bag and make your way out of the apartment and down to your car. The drive to Penelope’s doesn’t take long, and when you knock on her door, she is there, holding a pint of your favorite ice cream and the TV remote. “Come here girl.” She proclaimed, pulling you into a side hug. 

The two of you watched feel-good movies well into the night. It is really hard for you to get comfortable, despite being on Penelope’s comfortable sofa, but you chalk it up to being 38 weeks pregnant and partaking in a ‘girls’ sleepover’. When you finally become too tired to keep your eyes open, you rifle through your bag, finding your toothbrush and toothpaste. “I’m going to brush my teeth Penelope.” You say, standing up to go to the bathroom. A wet sensation washing all down your legs has your frozen in place. The pinching sensation in your back intensifies, causing you to sit back down. “Penelope..” You call through the pain. 

“Huh? Y/N?” Penelope answers groggily, sitting up from her relaxed position on the oversized chair. If the situation weren’t so serious, you’d be laughing at the way her hair was standing up in random directions.

“Penelope, I think I need to go to the hospital.” You say, letting out a breath as the pain subsided. She is at your side within moments. “What’s wrong? Is it-oh.” Penelope stops as she sees the evidence of your leaking amniotic fluid on pants. “Let’s go Y/N. We’ve got a baby Reid on the way.” She says cheerily, helping you up. She grabs your bag, which was sitting by the door and helps you out to your car, opening the passenger door for you. The drive to the hospital goes much slower than you would like as a combination of traffic and increasing contractions makes the thirty minute drive feel twice as long. 

Upon reaching the emergency room, you are wheeled into a private birthing room with Penelope following closely behind. She stays with you throughout the next six hours of labor, leaving only once near the end. The closer the birth of your child gets, the foggier you feel. At one point, someone else enters the room, hovering near the head of your bed, but you can’t focus enough to see who it is.

After six hours and twenty-eight minutes of labor, you give birth to a beautiful baby girl. Shortly after birth, she is placed on your chest, a bright pink and green striped blanket placed over her backside. You laugh through the tears as you look into her eyes for the first time, an overwhelming feeling of love overtaking you. The hustle and clatter of the doctors around you slowly fade away as you get lost looking at the face of your newborn daughter.

“Y/N, she’s…” Spencer’s voice startles you as he trails off, causing you to take in his lanky form, framed by the hospital room door. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

“This baby, she’s a piece of you and me and if all I’ll ever get is a piece of you, then I’ll be happy. I love you and I want this life with you, but I can’t force you to love us either Spencer.” You pause, wiping away the tears falling down your face in frustration. “No matter what you think Spencer, I won’t ever stop loving you, just as this little girl won’t ever go a day without knowing who her father truly is. A kind, compassionate man who gave himself wholly and completely for the people he loved, regardless of what that meant for him. That’s who her father is.” You are looking at the baby in your arms now, her bright wide-eyed look bringing a small smile to your face.

You aren’t paying enough attention to Spencer to realize that he had come closer, almost to your bed, and was now staring at the girl in your arms in amazement. “She’s so small.” His words are thick with emotion and cause you to lift your head to look at him. His hazel eyes are glistening with unshed tears as he stares at his daughter.

“Do you want to hold her?” You question, slowly moving her towards his hands, which were hanging awkwardly out in front of him, as if he had anticipated your question. He hesitates a moment before nodding so you place her in his arms.

He cradles her against his chest, holding her as if she was made of glass. His eyes never stray from her face as they study her features, almost as if he was memorizing what she looked like in case he never got to see her again. You lean back against the stiffly starched hospital pillows as you watch them, exhaustion pulling at you.

“You would never have to force me to love her, or you.” His words snap you from the light doze you had fallen into. He is no longer standing as he watches the baby in his arms, now he is sitting in the chair next to your bed, the baby sleeping soundly in his arms. His eyes bore into yours as if he is trying to tell you with his eyes what he was struggling to with his words. 

“I have never stopped loving you.” He looks down at the baby girl in his arms, running a gentle finger over her small cheek. “I just don’t understand what I did to deserve this, to deserve you and her.”

His words break your heart and you place a hand on his knee. “Spencer, of all the people in the world, you deserve this. You deserve love and a family. You do. And I’ll be here, no, we’ll be here everyday to remind you, of who you are and what you do deserve.” You whisper, squeezing his knee as you look at him through teary eyes. 

He leans forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Thank you.” Those two words, uttered softly near your ear, hold more meaning than the typical words of gratitude and they meant the world to you. They meant he would stay, even if it wasn’t always easy, even if it wasn’t always what he felt he deserved, he would stay.

Tagging: @twilightlover2007 @brandydel @thisiscalm-andits-doctor (I added a few more of you who liked the post I made about this fic. I hope that’s okay!) @aaronhotchnerr @emofairyprincessofarkansas @sunflowersandotherthings @impala1967dwinchester