#but i think there's a giant leap between my understanding of a bottom and a pillow princess or starfish

[airasora]

Any friendly souls out there who'd be willing to educate me a bit on pillow princesses?

I've known about this term for years and I think I get the gist of it, but there HAS to be something I'm missing cause... from what I can understand, a pillow princess is a lesbian woman who only likes to receive pleasure and never give it, right? I would personally argue your sexual orientation is irrelevant if the type of sex you have is only you receiving pleasure and your partner is only giving pleasure, but that's not important to my question.

I guess my question is, put bluntly... why?

As a switch, but a preference as a dom, I absolutely take joy in having someone at my mercy and give and take away pleasure as I see fit while my partner, technically, isn't giving me physical pleasure. But I can't imagine that being the ONLY kind of sex I have with someone - it'd start feel very... imbalanced to me? Boring as well, perhaps.

But I must be missing some key information about pillow princesses cause I see women proudly describing themselves like this on dating apps, bios, in videos etc... and the sentence: "I only like to receive pleasure and not give it" doesn't really sound like something you'd proudly say about yourself?

So, yeah, I need help understanding this. Cause it's been years and no matter how much I read, hear or research it, I still can't really wrap my head around it. Again, NO shame to anyone who identifies this way; I'm asking because I want to understand.

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 5: Vent Shenanigans and Keurig Conversations

AN: Okay, this is the last that anyone is going to hear of me for two weeks. Then I’m out of school and will be ready to crank out some more chaos. Until then, I hope you guys enjoy!

Television shows made navigating through vents appear much easier than it was in real life. Then again, they also made being a superhero look easy too, and Marinette was painfully aware how that was false. 

Her knees and back ached from crawling through the low ceiling vents, and though she wasn’t claustrophobic, she was decidedly cramped. And if that’s how she felt, Damian, at more than half a foot taller, had to be doubly suffering. She asked how he was doing.

“I've crawled through far more pleasant vents before,” he replied seriously. “If we could continue quickly, we’ll come out near another vent gate in about ten or so minutes.”

They continued in silence until they came to a fork in the vent.

“Which way?” asked Marinette.

Damian hesitated. “I didn’t see this on the plans.”

“So, you don’t know.”  

“I did not say that.”

“So which way do we go?”

Silence.

Marinette sighed and closed her eyes, poking for the pooled energy inside herself. Being the Guardian of the Miraculous had helped her innate magic to grow in leaps and bounds, but it was her Ladybug powers she ultimately searched for. After being bonded with Tikki for so long, certain… qualities tended to bleed over. One such ability was making decisions infused with good luck. It wasn’t easy, but it was one she had been working hard to master.  

A glimmer of magic burned in her chest, and a fleeting whispered voice told her to turn left. She smiled in the dark of the vent.

“Left,” she said confidently, “we go left.”

“Why?”

Marinette’s smile turned into a smirk, even though Damian couldn’t see her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to try.” The quickness made the reply appear casual, but Marinette could tell by the steel in his tone it told more truth than intended.

‘Who the hell did I team up with?’ her brain once again asked.

“Let’s leave me off the list,” she said, bypassing the dangerous remark with a gymnast's grace. “Come on.”

She crawled around the corner and, after only a moment’s hesitation, heard Damian follow after her.

Silence reigned for another minute or so before far in the distance they spotted light.

“Oh, thank the Kwamis, an exit,” Marinette muttered.

Damian grumbled behind her. “None of this appeared on the plans.”

“Learn to roll with the flow.” The light grew stronger, so she flicked off her phone flashlight. “Chances are it didn’t take your brothers too long to track me back to our hiding spot. They probably know we’re in the vents. If they found the same plan you did…”

“They won’t have any clue about this.” She could hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Exactly.”

The light flooded upwards from the vent floor. The slats in between large enough to view the room below. Marinette crawled over it and maneuvered herself around to face Damian.

“Nice to see your face again.”

The dim light from the vent illuminated his face. “N-Nice to see yours too,” he said. It was at that point, it dawned on Marinette that Damian's view the whole way through the vent was an up close look at her butt. From the heat radiating off her cheeks, it was likely her face was as red as his. She was torn between laughing hysterically and curling into mortified ball and never emerging.

Instead of either of those rational actions though, her mouth, her stupid, stupid mouth, decided to betray her.

“Enjoy the view?” she asked with a grin. ''What are you doing?' She yelled at herself, that was the last thing she wanted to utter.

Damian, if it was even possible, turned redder, and coughed lightly. “You have, uh, your bottom is quite shapely.” By the end of his confession, his voice was a high-pitched squeak, more appropriate for a preteen, then an adult. It took every bit of self-control for Marinette to keep from falling apart laughing.

“Thanks, I exercise,” she responded cheekily. A familiar magical hum settled in her breastbone. Her connection to the Kwamis magic. Marinette held back from rolling her eyes, even as her inner panic grew. One of the Kwamis was helping her to flirt. Probably Plagg judging by her cheesy replies.

‘They are the physical embodiments of the powers of the universe, and they choose to help me flirt. What even is my life?’

“It's working well,” replied Damian, with more of a teasing tone than an embarrassed one, although his cheeks still appeared redder than normal.

“Yeah, well…” Marinette sat there struggling for a reply, when noise from below cut off their impromptu flir- teasing session.

“I swear to God, if I find out who caused the mess in the Market Hall, I'll strangle them with my bare hands,” complained a voice from below.

Marinette winced when she saw Damian looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to cause that much damage.

“Oh, come on, Ian, it’s not like it was unscrewed on purpose. A bolt probably loosened and the shelf got bumped into. Blame it on bad luck.”

“Well, can I strangle bad luck then?”

Marinette held back an undainty snort. Plagg's constant whining and complaining coming to mind. ‘There I certain days I definitely want to.’

“I don’t think so. I’m more worried about the giant cart pile up.” At that, Damian raised a second eyebrow, and Marinette shrugged, she didn't controlled what the Bad Luck Balls did. “We’re gonna need to test all the carts to check for any more loose wheels, that’s gonna take forever. Anyway, are you headed home?”

“Yeah, I’m half an hour over the end of my shift,” responded Ian. Marinette could see two people moving around in the room below. “Ooh look, someone brought in doughnuts! You want one Casey?”

“No thanks, still trying to stay on that diet. I just came in here for a drink and then I’m back out on the floor.” The sound of a fridge door opened. “See you next week.”

“Yeah, you too Casey.”

The sound of another door opened leaving the room below silent once more.

“Shopping carts?” Damian asked, half-amused, and half bewildered. “I didn’t hear about that.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Escape was the highest priority, okay?”  

“When would you find the time to accomplish that?”

Marinette hesitated, there was no good explanation to give that would satisfy him. She wouldn’t tell him about the Miraculous or the Kwamis. It was her job, no her duty, to maintain their safety, and after everything she had fought for, bled for, nearly died for... no matter how comfortable he made her, there was no way he'd learn about what she could do. Especially when she had the feeling he was far more than meets the eye. Which didn’t leave much in the way of a good excuse for what she did and how.

Then, as if understanding Marinette’s great need for a distraction, their stomachs rumbled in unison. They looked at each other for a moment before laughing.

Marinette huffed, wiping away a tear of joy from her eye. “Okay, we need to find food to eat.”

Damian nodded. “The food court is a no go now; Drake will monitor it even more closely than before. We could find a vending machine?”

An idea popped into Marinette’s mind. “Or… how about the doughnuts?”

“Huh?”

She pointed down. “This is the breakroom. Ian mentioned doughnuts.”

“That would be stealing.”

“As opposed to the twenty other things we’ve stolen over the course of the past two hours?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I can back pay those.”

“So, we’ll send them a box of doughnuts once we’ve won. I’m sure the IKEA employees will understand the doughnut's sacrifice to a worthy cause. Besides, breakrooms have coffee machines.”

Damian sneered. “Coffee from a machine will taste will taste like swill.”

“Didn't you say your brother dragged you out of bed at eight this morning? Coffee means caffeine, which means energy.”

He tilted his head and contemplated it for a moment. “Fair point.” He looked at the grate. “It’s probably a ten-foot drop. Can you handle that?”

Marinette had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had free fallen off the Eiffel Tower before, she could handle a measly ten-foot drop. But Damian wasn't aware of any of that of course. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the laser pen. “Back up, it’s going to get hot in here.”

Marinette averted her eyes while Damian cut the grate away with the laser, the heat making the metal vent shaft turn into a furnace. She wiped away at a bead of sweat forming at her brow. The grate gave way and clattered against the floor below. Damian put away the laser and gave her a quick smirk. He slipped his legs into the hole where the grate had been and jumped to the floor, landing with a soft thud.

Breathing a sigh of relief at finally leaving the cramped vent, Marinette maneuvered her legs to dangle over the vent opening and slid out, bracing herself for the landing.

But instead of meeting the floor, she found herself caught in mid-air. Damian had her in his grasp, holding her off the floor by a few inches with his strong arms snug around her waist. Their eyes caught and the air between them grew thick with tension. His bare hands brushed against a sliver of her exposed back, the contact sent shivers up her spine.

Neither of them breathed for a brief moment.

“I told you I could handle the drop,” Marinette said, her words barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Damian’s voice matched hers. The look in his eyes impossible to decipher. His arms tightened for a moment, before letting her slip-free.

Marinette smiled, resting her hands against his arms. “Thanks.”

Damian opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it. He stepped back, effectively breaking the bubble around them. Marinette pushed the rapid flutter in her chest away. She could deal with it later when she was far removed from crazy games of hide-and-seek, and dark-skinned boys who made her too comfortable to be safe.

She turned and looked around the room they had dropped into, finding it, thankfully, empty. The last thing they needed was security getting called on them. Spotting the counter with the box of doughnuts on it, Marinette smiled.

She walked over to the box. “Well, it’s no Parisian artisan pastries, but I suppose the chain-restaurant swill will suffice,” she teased, looking back over her shoulder at Damian.  

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. Heading over to the coffee machine to start a new pot. She turned her attention back to the box, the words Krispy Kreme printed on the front in large green letters, several doughnuts still inside.

“Which one do you want?” she asked.

“Anything with chocolate.”

“You have excellent taste.”

“I strive too.” That made Marinette smile. It was such a Chole-like response. She had to make sure never to introduce the two of them.

Marinette pulled out a few doughnuts and put them in the microwave. They would taste much better warm. After a few seconds, she brought the plate over to Damian staring at the ancient coffee machine with distaste.

“Here, you take this.” She pushed the plate of warm doughnuts into his hands. “And I’ll deal with this.” Grabbing a filter to place the pre-crushed coffee grounds into.

“Tt, why don’t they use a Keurig?” he asked with a sneer.

“Uh… because it’s a breakroom in an IKEA?” Marinette was shocked to find a breakroom at all. She’d figured employees would have to lean against the wall if they wanted a break, before being prodded into moving again by their superior. At least, she thought that was what Americans did.

Damian scoffed. “Everyone uses Keurig.”

“Even you, Mr. Machine coffee tastes like swill?”

“No, Alfred makes our coffee in the morning French press style. I do occasionally steal Drake’s Keurig out of his room when he hasn’t slept in four days to watch him cry though.”

“Damian!” she exclaimed.

“What? It’s for his own good. At that point he’s more likely to make a mistake, he needs sleep, not more caffeine.”

Marinette's thoughts flickered to her own Keurig she bought before she left Paris and the number of times she had played out the exact scenario Damian described. “Coffee is a lifestyle.” She grabbed two paper cups and placed one underneath the machine as the coffee dripped.

“It’s a crutch. Drake is a grown man, and he should, mlph-” Marinette cut him off by shoving a chocolate doughnut into his mouth. He glared at her.

“Getting between a determined person and their coffee is a criminal offense and should be punished.” She grabbed a doughnut for herself taking a bite of the sugary pastry. It tasted nothing like her parents’, but her empty stomach didn't care, so it would do. “Who’s Alfred by the way? Another brother?”

Damian took half the doughnut out of his mouth, swallowing the rest. “Most people wouldn’t dare to take the liberties you do with me.”

“Good thing I’m not most people,” Marinette responded with a smile. “You’re avoiding the question.” She took the cup out, now full to the brim of steaming hot coffee, and replaced it with the second.

“No, fortunately, I have no more brothers. Although my father likes to pick up strays so who knows if we’ll obtain another. Alfred is our butler.”

Thankfully, Marinette hadn’t taken a sip of coffee otherwise she might have done a spit-take. “You have a butler?” She had gotten the impression his family was pretty rich, and she was used to her friends having personal staff, but never failed to shock her when this level of luxury was mentioned so casually.

Damian shrugged. “Tt, butler, pseudo-grandfather, the only reason our family functions even semi-normally; same difference.”

Marinette shook her head in exasperation. “If you say so.” She pulled out the second cup, handing it to Damian. He took a sip.

“If mediocre had a taste…”

“Oh, shut up and drink it.”

They devoured their meager rations in silence, going back for seconds on both doughnuts and coffee. Marinette was by no means full when she finished, but at least her stomach wasn’t threatening to eat itself anymore.

“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.

Damian pulled out his phone. “The store closes at nine, which means we either have to avoid my brothers for eight more hours, or…”

“We have to knock them out of the game completely.”

“Exactly.”

“So, are we gonna actually knock them out, or should we just get them kicked out of the store?” She would normally try to avoid the use of excessive force on civilians, but from the few hints Damian had dropped, Marinette figured his family was used to a higher level of insanity. Living in Gotham must have that effect.

“Effective and vicious,” commented Damian, “I like the way you think. As much fun as it would be to knock them out, getting them kicked out is probably the better method. We have… family plans for this evening that potential concussions would make difficult.”

“Who’s our first target?”

“Drake,” said Damian without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s their eyes and ears. The other two are still good at hacking, but he’s the best. Get rid of him, and Grayson and Todd will be scrambling to recover. Plus, he’s the least likely to put up a fight.”

With a plan made, they erased their presence from the breakroom, hiding the lasered off vent grate and discarding their trash. Once confident the coast was clear they snuck out of the breakroom, and into the bowels of the back hallways, leaving nothing but doughnut crumbs and the smell of coffee in their wake.

It was time for the hunters to become the prey.

Tag List (closed, sorry) 

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[peachbear88]

A Whole New World (Pt 3)

A/N: So I have another idea for a oneshot or maybe series. "Forbidden Love". I think the name might already have been used but THIS IS THE PERFECT NAME FOR THE NEXT STORY AHHHHHHH! Anyways, back to the actual story at hand.

-----------

You sit down cautiously in the leather seat in front of you, almost sighing. The chair is much more comfortable then you thought.

"So... what do you want from me?" You ask timidly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as his gaze sears into you.

"Why do you think I want something from you?" He asks and you meet his eyes, noticing the amused glint in them.

"Because you didn't hand me over to the police and instead, brought me here." You gesture to the spacious, glamorous office. He chuckles, standing up to look out the massive floor to ceiling window.

"Touchè." You fidget nervously, waiting for him to continue. "I saw you paying a visit to the youngest Maximoff." Your breath hitches in your throat as he turns to look at you. "Very skilled, the whole, swinging from the tree branch." You flush and he smirks. "Young love. I presume you'd like her hand in marriage as well." Your face turns an even brighter shade of red and he chuckles. Not a genuine, hearty chuckle but a cold, dark laugh.

"She has to marry someone that benefits the company though." You pause, letting the smallest sliver of hope leak into your speech. "Right?"

Loki laughs cruelly, crushing the liquid hope you had.

"Correct. But. I can help you." You look up into his icy green eyes and he smirks. "I can make you rich enough to qualify for her hand in marriage. Powerful enough." You lean forward eagerly but he leans back, knowing fully well he had you wrapped around his little finger. "Nothing comes for free though."

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the brooch and examining it. You take a deep breath, steeling your resolve before turning back to him.

"What would I have to do?"

-----------

"All I need is for you to go into that cave and fetch me an object. A simple oil lamp to be specific." You arch an eyebrow.

"Easy peasey." He stops you, pulling you back from the mouth of the cavern.

"Not so fast. You cannot touch any of the treasures in there, no matter how tempted. And trust me, you will be tempted." You gulp, noting the ominous tone in his voice.

"Got it. How hard could it really be?" You mutter, slowly inching down the cavern. A pebble slips, sending you tumbling down the semi-smooth stone slide. You scream as you fall, hitting the bottom of the slide with a grunt. "Didn't see that coming." Dusting yourself off, you slink through the dark, ominous cave. The further you descend into the cave, the more tempting the mounds of gold and jewels become. The cavern expands, leading into a massive area, dozens of tall, sharp pillars looming above you. Dead in the center, perched upon the tallest pillar is the desired lamp. You smile, stepping towards the pillar only to be upended by a small gem. You go flying, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepare yourself for the harsh impact but it never comes. Instead, you find yourself on a fluffy carpet. It ripples beneath you, and for a moment, you fear the whole cave is coming apart. Then the carpet pushes you off it and you shriek. The carpet, the carpet that just caught you is moving. You examine it curiously, pacing around it.

"A frickin' magic carpet." You exclaim as it watches you inspect it, impatiently gesturing towards the giant slab of stone crushing it. You scratch your chin before slipping your fingers between a small gap under the rock. "Alright, here we go." You grunt, heaving the rock. The carpet tugs and the moment the stone lifts a little, the carpet zips out, dipping and whirling around the cavern, sending gold cascading everywhere. Eventually, it calms down, circling around you and patting your shoulders enthusiastically. "Not a problem bud." You return your attention to the towering pillar in front of you. "Alright. Let's do this."

You pull yourself up, following the pre-set trail you had created for yourself as you grip another sharp handhold. A bit of blood trickles down from a thin cut on your palm and you grimace before continuing your steep climb. Your muscles are on fire, the thin cut on your hand tearing wider and wider every second. With one final pull, you reach the top of the pillar, the dusty lamp shining right back at you. Not wasting a second, you grab the lamp and slowly lower yourself down to where the carpet stands, watching you with anticipation.

"All right! Now to get out of here..." You dust of your thin, ragged pants, leaving a thick line of blood smeared on the fabric. After a few moments, you locate the tunnel you came from and make your way up the steep slope. Your footsteps echo off the large cave as you reach the large stone slide. A gem next to your foot catches your eye and you lean down, examining it. The carpet frantically waves at you, even slapping you but you push it away, picking up the gem. "No one's going to notice one small gem missing. I could go without stealing for a whole month without this gem." You shrug before slipping it into your pocket. The effect is instantaneous, a roaring voice echoing through the cave.

"You have touched the forbidden treasure. Now, you will never again see the light of day!" Molten lava spews forth from the cracks in the cavern, rapidly covering the stone. You jump up, leaping from stone to stone, clambering up the rocky slide. At the mouth of the cave, Loki stands, watching you frantically scale the rocky wall, unable to find the strength to pull yourself up the last bit of the wall.

"A little help would be nice!" You cry and Loki peers down at you, golden staff in hand.

"Give me the lamp first." He sneers and you resist.

"No. Your hand first!" He leans closer to you and his once handsome features contort into an angry scowl.

"Give me the lamp first." He repeats and you relent, reaching into your pocket and handing him the lamp. He examines it greedily while you cling onto the rock face.

"Now your hand!" He looks back down at you, all the kindness from before gone.

"How about my foot?" Your eyes widen as he raises his foot and steps on your hand, squishing it. You cry out in pain as he relentlessly twists his foot, agonizing pain shooting up your arm. Unable to hold on any longer, you fall, the sweltering heat radiating against your body before you hit a soft surface, soaring up into the air. Prying your eyes open, you look down to see carpet, speeding towards the entrance of the cave where Loki stands, still entranced by the lamp. The carpet speeds up and you reach out, snatching the lamp from Loki's hands. Loki roars in anger, pushing you backwards with the butt of his staff as the cave crumbles. Rocks tumble down, covering the entrance as you fly backwards towards a certain doom. Right at the last moment, carpet catches you and the two of you go tumbling back down into the darkness of the cave.

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

"Ugh..." You groan, your eyes fluttering open. You're greeted by a brightly colored carpet hovering above you. "Hi." You mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position. The lamp is still tightly clutched in your hand and you stare at it, wondering what that man could've possibly wanted from such a dusty relic. You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck before returning your attention to the carpet. "Well, you know any way out of here buddy?" The carpet makes exaggerated gestures with it's golden tassels at the lamp. You hold up the lamp, confused. "This old thing?" The carpet nods vigorously (at least you think it's nodding) and you shrug. "What's the worst that could happen." You take a deep breath, slowly rubbing at the lamp with your injured hand, blood smearing over the dusty brass surface. Slowly but surely, a thick blue fog spirals out of the lamp, revealing a massive blue figure. You stumble backwards, still clinging onto the lamp.

"Oh great one who summons me, terrible one who commands me, I stand by my oath, loyalty to wishes three." The figure roars. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, just a pathetic little whimper.

"Eh..."

He clears his throat, peering down into the darkness.

"I said, 'Oh great...'" His eyes land on you. "Excuse, me, dude, where's your boss?" You stand there, gaping as he waves his massive blue hands in front of your face. "Help me out here, where's your boss? If I was just gonna talk to myself, I could've stayed in the lamp."

"Eh... Uh...." You gulp as he stares at you impatiently.

"Hellooooooooo!"

"I uh.... I'm talking to uh.... Smoking blue giant?"

"No! BRRRRRRRRR." He hums out, shrinking down and swirling around you. "I am not a giant, I am a genie. There is a difference." He retorts, waving his finger in front of you. "Giants are not real." He reclines back, leaving you frozen in shock. "Where's your boss?"

"Uh, my boss?"

He sighs.

"Look, kid, I've been doing this a long time, all right? There's always a guy, you know..." You watch his hands, noting how he uses them to gesture with every word he utters. "He's cheated somebody, or buried somebody." He explains, teleporting behind you and floating around. "I mean, you get my point. Where's that guy?" You nod in understanding.

"I know that guy. He's outside." The genie's face lights up.

"So, it's just you and me down here?" A telescope appears in his hand with a blue puff and he scans the cave through it, his brown eye bulging out from the glass. You nod, unable to form coherent words. "So you rubbed the lamp?"

"Uh-huh." He scratches his goatee.

"Huh. Do you mind if I just, you know, stretch it out over here?" He asks, already floating away from you. You look around the cave, searching for another being that the genie could possibly be asking.

"Uh, are you asking me?" He groans as he stretches out.

"Yeah, you're my master." You laugh dryly, swallowing.

"Yeah no, you look like you should be my master."

The genie shrugs, looking you up and down.

"Yeah, but that's not quite how it works." You stare at the lamp, mystified.

"How long have you been in here?"

"'Bout a thousand years." You stare at him skeptically.

"A thousand years?"

"A ThoUSanD YeARs." He mocks you, sitting down on a rock. "Is it just me or does everything surprise you?" You don't answer and he sighs, floating towards you. "So you really don't know who I am. Genie, wishes, lamp, none of that ringing a bell?" You don't respond and he looks taken aback. "Wow. Well, that's a first." He teleports a few feet away, snapping his fingers. "Monkey!" A small, frail looking monkey appears with cymbals and a band drum attached to it's back. It starts clapping the cymbals together rhythmically and blowing into a small kazoo. You stare at the monkey and the genie brushes you off. "Oh, don't worry 'bout him, he's fine." The genie starts clapping along before bursting into song.

"Well, Ali Baba, he had them 40 thieves,"

"Scheherazade had a thousand tales."

"But master, you're in luck,"

"Because up your sleeves, you got a genie that never fails!"

He finishes with jazz hands, the monkey's kazoo dying off with a slight squeak. You look at the carpet apprehensively only to see it clapping it's stray threads off.

"Whoo!" The genie exclaims, zooming around. "I'm the best." You stare at him, unbelieving. He sighs.

"Not enough, huh?" You don't reply. "I'm kidding, watch this."

A beam of blue light shoots out of his finger tip, hitting the monkey, who goes flying. The monkey lands on a tall pile of rock, behind a drum set. A jazzy upbeat tune fills the dark cavern.

"Here I go!"

"Uh! Ooh! Whoo!"

"Back up!"

The carpet disappears, reappearing on another tall pile of rock, shaking a pair of maracas rhythmically.

"Uh-oh! Watch out!"

He scats and a trumpet appears in the monkey's mouth, blasting out a high note.

"You done wound me up!"

"'Bout to show you what I'm workin' with. Uh!"

"Well, Ali Baba he had them 40 thieves,"

"Scheherazade had a thousand tales!"

"But, master, you're in luck because up your sleeves,"

"You got a brand of magic never fails."

The genie appears behind you, the golden shackles on his forearms glowing with power.

"You got some power in your corner now,"

"Heavy ammunition in your camp!"

His arms turn into golden cannons that fire bright blue blasts to emphasize his point.

"You got some punch, pizzazz,"

"Yahoo, and how?"

"All you gotta do is rub that lamp,"

"And then I'll say,"

"Missus, man what's your name, whatever, what will your pleasure be?"

"Let me take your order I'll jot it down,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

He picks you up and plops you into an elegant restaurant where a menu is thrown in front of you.

"Life is your restaurant and I'm your maître d'."

"Come whisper to me whatever it is you want,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me!"

"We pride ourselves on service!"

"You the boss, the king, the shah!"

"Say what you wish, it's yours, true dish!"

"How 'bout a lil more paprikash?"

You disappear behind mounds of the Sokovian delicacy, reappearing between racks of clothing.

"Have some of column A,"

"Try all of column B."

Blue strings attach themselves to your arms and you find yourself being whirled around, dancing, but from your point of view, you look like a flailing chicken.

"I'm in the mood to help you dude,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

He starts scatting as he pulls you around like a puppet.

"Can your friends do this?"

You point to a clone of the genie, who's standing on his head, his lower half spinning around like a disco ball.

"Can your friends do that?"

You point the other way to another clone of the genie who is whirling around a magic lasso.

"Can your friends pull this,"

"Outta they lil hat?"

He reaches into a top hat and slowly pulls out the magic carpet.

"Can your friends go,"

He starts beatboxing, bright flares shooting illuminating the cave.

"I'm the genie, of the lamp, I can sing rap dance if you give me a chance."

A couch appears behind you and you fall backwards, landing on the plush cushions.

"Don't sit there buggy eyed,"

"I'm here to answer all your mid-day prayers."

"You got me bona fide,"

"Certified,"

"You got a genie for your charged affairs."

He slaps a certificate into your hands and the couch zooms forward at light speed, throwing you off. You wave your arms desperately, attempting to balance yourself as you teeter precariously above a pit of molten magma. The genie pulls you back by the hook of your jacket.

"I got a powerful urge,"

"To help you out,"

"So whatcha wish,"

"I really wanna know."

"You got a list that's 3 miles long no doubt."

"All you gotta do is rub like so."

The lamp goes flying into your hands as the genie appears next to you.

"Missus?"

"Y/N." You reply.

"Yes!"

“One wish or two or three?"

"Well, I'm on the job, you big nabob,"

"You ain't never had a friend,"

"Never had a friend."

"You ain't never had a friend,"

"Never had a friend."

"You ain't never."

"Had a."

"Friend."

"Like."

"Me!"

He scats as fireworks go off, lighting the cave up in blue, red, green, gold and purple.

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

The scene fades and you stand there, still trying to comprehend the turn of events. The genie's large blue face appears in front of you.

"You can clap now." He smirks, imitating a mic drop. You raise your hands slowly to clap and he immediately stops you. "No, no no, please, please. You can thank me outside. In the sun. When you wish us out." You smile numbly before shaking your head.

"Wait so.... how does it work?" The genie's face drops into disbelief.

"You're.... You're kidding right?" He sputters, shrinking back down to a normal size. "The- The whole song was the- The instructions!" He grabs your hand, sighing. "Obviously you can't dance and listen at the same time. "So here's the basics." The lamp appears in his hand and he mimes rubbing it. "Step one, rub the lamp." A second head appears on his body. "Step 2, say what you want." A third head appears. "Step 3." The other two heads disappear as you continue walking hand in hand with the genie. "There is no step 3! See, it's that easy!" He waves his hand. "You get three wishes.They must begin with you rubbing the lamp and saying 'I wish' got it?" You nod slowly.

"I think so...." He smiles.

"Great! A few more rules. You can't wish for more wishes, 3 is enough. I can't make anybody love anybody." Pink hearts float around his head. "Or bring anybody back from the dead." Papyrus wraps around him, muffling his speech and giving it an eerie feeling. "Feel free to interrupt me anytime you don't understand." You give a sigh of relief, opening your mouth to ask a question but he immediately cuts you off. "I'm kidding, don't ever interrupt me, no matter what." You close your mouth. "Now, I usually don't have to go through all this because by the time the guy." He emphasizes 'the guy' with little quotation marks. "Gets to me, he already knows what he wants and it generally has to do with," He clears his throat expanding to a large size, a red glow hugging his blue skin. "Tons of money and power! Mwahahahaha!" He exclaims evilly, money raining down from the roof of the cave. He shrinks back down into his normal size. "Do me a favor, do not drink from that cup. I promise you, there is not enough money or power on Earth for you to be satisfied. Good? Well, what's your first wish?" You scratch your chin thoughtfully.

"Well, I have to think about it. I mean, if there are only 3," The genie scoffs in disbelief. "I mean, why are there only 3 anyways?" He cuts you off, waving his hands about.

"I don't know! Who cares?" You smirk, approaching him.

"You don't know? I thought you were all knowing."

"That's 'cause you don't listen. I never said I was all knowing, I said I was all powerful." He quips. "The most powerful being in the universe." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Look, whatever I don't know, I know I can learn it. Outside in the sun. Why are you playing hard to wish?" He exclaims exasperatedly. "Give us some sun!" You relent, smiling and placing the lamp behind you.

"All right Genie. I wish for you to get us out of this cave."

"Boom! Booyah!" The genie zooms around excitedly. "She has made her first wish!" He reappears in a flight attendant uniform holding a safety brochure. "Thank you for choosing Genie Airlines. Please don't forget to tip your genie on the way out!" 3 more genies appear behind him in similar uniform, waving at you. "Hold yourself kid!" He whirls around you, bright blue fog enveloping you until you finally reappear outside on the outskirts of Sokovia.

"Whoa." You mutter, nauseated at the sudden movement. The carpet does a flip, soaring off into the air. "Why is the monkey still here?" You gesture to the little frail monkey next to you.

"Oh. Uh, consider it a gift." You shrug, picking the monkey up and depositing it on your shoulder. He snaps and the two of you are sitting under a makeshift tent, a chess board between the two of you. You gulp, holding your head. "Can you warn me before you do that?" He waves you off.

"You'll get used to it. So, have you decided what you're going to wish for?" He bites into an apple. You shrug.

"Nope. Haven't really thought about it." The genie laughs, depositing the apple on the chess board.

"Wow. You really are not that guy." You sit up in the woven tanning chair, watching the genie.

"So what would you wish for." The genie examines you thoughtfully before staring back at Sokovia.

"Easy. I would wish to be free." He raps his knuckles against the golden bands on his forearms. "To not have to say," Poof! He reappears in front of you in a waiter's uniform. "How may I help you?" Poof! He reappears in the chair beside you in his normal outfit. "Freedom. I wish to be human." You look at him curiously.

"Why don't you just set yourself free?" He laughs derisively, clapping.

"Only way I can be set free is if the owner of the lamp uses one of their wishes to set me free. The last time that happened was like, the fourth of Never-ary."

"I'll do it." You volunteer. "I've got 3 right?"

"Actually, 2. You used one to get out of the cave." The genie corrects and you smirk.

"DId I? Or did you? I thought I had to be rubbing the lamp."

"Okay little street-girl. Let's rewind the tape." He imitates a cassette tape rewinding. He examines the playback. "Okay! I see what you did there." You smile at him.

"At least now I can use my last wish to set you free." He leans forward in his woven tanning chair..

"See this is the thing. The more you have, the more you want." You look out at Sokovia.

"That's not me." The genie hums skeptically.

"We'll see about that."

"But... There is something." You sigh and the genie instantly notices the lovesick expression on your face.

"Oh! Seen that look before." With a blue puff, he appears in front of you, lying on his stomach, his chin resting on his hands. "Who's the guy?" You don't look at him.

"It's.... It's a girl." He smiles at you supportively.

"Well, I can't make anyone fall in love with anyone." You quickly shake your head.

"No, no. We had a connection." He quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Alright, alright."

"She's smart, kind, incredibly beautiful. But she has to marry- Hold on, can you make me rich?" The genie teleports back to his chair.

"Kid, there is a lot of gray area in 'Make me rich'." He snaps his fingers and a rich business man in a stylish black suit appears a few feet away. "I could just make you rich." You immediately backpedal, shaking your head.

"No, no, no." The genie nods.

"Right 'cause then you'd be stuck with this guy. Be specific with your words. The key is in the detail." He advises and you nod. "Which I don't really understand because if she already likes you, why change?"

You shrug.

"I told you, she has to marry someone that benefits her family's business." The genie stands up, fiddling with his fingers.

"Alright, I can do that. An official wish this time, for those of us that are counting." You clear your throat nervously.

"Genie, I wish..." He snaps his fingers, pointing at the lamp. "Oh right! Sorry." You pick up the lamp, rubbing it. "All right. Genie..." He raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't hurt em Genie."

"I wish... to become rich." You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the worst. The genie smiles, waving his hands.

"Back up kid, I need some room to work. I'm gonna fabulize you."

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

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

[13uswntimagines]

Baseball Showoffs (Rose x baseball Player!Reader)

Request: reader x rose, maybe the reader is a baseball player and is up against the Braves aka Mr. pugh and then maybe the team hosts a watch party for the game

Authors Note: Hey dudes, so I might have gone a bit crazy with the baseball terms. I also happen to be a big Yankee’s fan, so if you don’t like them, you can totally switch the teams. I hope you enjoy! Feel free to send me feedback or just hit up my page if you wanna say Hi! 

Team bonding was a normal occurrence for the national team. It was typically a time filled with movies, stupid games like truth or dare and Dawn approved snacks. But today, it would be centered around a different kind of game. 

It was the Atlanta Braves taking on the New York Yankees, or as far as the team was concerned, you verses Dansby Swanson (more like Rose vs Mal, but everyone was too afraid to say it).

“I didn’t think you two liked baseball,” JJ muttered from beside Rose, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. The woman in question rolled her eyes. 

“We don’t, but Y/n looks hot in the uniform, and her little celebrations are adorable,” The midfielder smirked, wiggling her shoulders as if to prove her point.  The two of you had been dating for 4 years, and in that time you still couldn’t convince her that baseball was remotely interesting. She only watched to see your bat flips and dance moves. You had recently been traded to the Yankees in the hopes that you could bring them the winning spirit from the Nationals (which they had lost after Jeter retired, or that at least what you told her).

“Y/n has been killing it this season. She has like a .370 batting average”  Ashlyn snorted, shoving popcorn in her mouth. She wasn’t a giant Yankees fan, but after the Braves defeat of the Marlins, she couldn't support them in good conscience. 

“Dansby isn’t bad either though, it’s like a .33,” Kelley argued. She wasn’t a huge baseball fan, but she had to rep for her state. 

“Yeah, but y/n has 16 home runs, and it’s only their 12th game, Mr. Pugh is going to have his hands full for sure,” Alyssa countered with raised eyebrows. Sure she didn’t like the Yankees as much as she liked the Cubs, but almost anyone was better than the Braves. 

“No offense to y/n, but my money is on the braves,” Kelley said nudging Rose, who nodded in understanding. 

“That’s right, gotta rep our home team,” Emily nodded back, giving the frat daddy a high five. 

“Aren't they away this week?” Mal asked with furrowed eyebrows. . 

“Y/n isn’t in grey so yeah,” Rose nodded. The only reason she knew that was because she thought you looked sexier in the blue pinstripes than the ugly grey one (though she much preferred the red uniform of the Nationals).

“Is that how it works?” Megan questioned, suddenly interested now that the fashion choices were the center of attention instead of batting averages or whatever. 

“Yeah, the home team wears white pants and bats 2nd” Kelley nodded, returning her attention to the TV where the 1st inning came to an end after a strikeout. 

“Y/n has got a damn good batting average and home team advantage, so she’s going to crush Dansby,” Rose mumbled and Mal rolled her eyes. There was no way that you were going to beat her boyfriend. 

“Well Dansby’s up to bat, so we’ll see just how they match up,” JJ laughed, enjoying how riled up the team was getting for a sport that everyone claimed to not like. 

*****

The New York sun was bright as you paced back and forth in the area between 2nd and 3rd base waiting for the next batter to be ready. You were frustrated that Dansby had managed to get into first, and with Riley up to bat, you were sure you were going to be getting some action soon.

You squared up to home plate, crouching slightly as Garrett got ready to throw the next pitch. The ball came off the bat like a rocket, slicing towards you as Dansby ran towards 2nd. Just as he rounded the base You caught the ball and tagged him as he passed you for a double play. 

“Couldn’t have given me that one?” He winked at you after the 3rd vase umpire called him out. The two of you were pretty close considering you hung out at lots of USWNT matches. 

“Not a chance, now stop trying to impress your girl and play smart, shoulda stayed at second,” You smirked back, tapping his chest with your glove. 

“Ooh, like you aren’t doing the same thing,” He laughed back.

“Never said I wasn’t, but it seems to be working out a little better for me, I just made an amazing catch” You held up the ball to prove your point. 

“Maybe you should go for something a little less subtle,” He shrugged back good-naturedly. Your girls weren’t big into baseball, but you were sure that your leaning catch would at least draw you a “good job” from Rose. 

“We’ll see, there’s a time and a place for everything,” You smirked at the man, shoeing him back towards the dugout. 

******

The team watch with bated breath as you edged your way off of second plate. It was the bottom of the 7th and your team was still frustratingly tied with Dansby’s (as your 2 run homer had been matched by 2 individual runs from the other team). 

“ the braves better be careful, Y/l/n has the highest stealing average in the league,” Ashlyn chimes in, and right in cue you made a break for 3rd base. 

The pitcher had been onto you, sending the ball towards Dansby, but you were already one step ahead, leaping over the man and landing safely on the plate. 

“God she so cute,” Rose sighed dreamily as you stuck your tongue out at Mr. Pugh. 

“She just stole a base and that’s what you say?” Kelley snorted. Yes her team was losing, but she had to admit that you had some serious skill. 

“She’s got dirt in her nose,” Rose shrugged, smiling wider when you did a little happy wiggle as your teammate stepped up to bat. 

******

The team crowded around the TV, far more interested in the outcome of this game than they thought they’d be. It was the bottom of the 9th, the bases were loaded and your team was down by 2. You needed to hit a run to win. 

The women watched as you tightened your fingers on the bat, the commentators mentioning how your famous left-handed swing was similar to Rose’s. 

“They should change the names on their jerseys, none of the fans call them by their own last names anyway,” Julie snorted, as the commentator went on about how this matchup was ingesting because you and Dansby were dating USWNT players. It didn’t help that you and him kept interacting every chance you got. 

“Y/n and I have the same number, so they don’t wanna confuse the fans,” Rose retorted with an eye roll. 

“She’s batting lefty?” Sam asked surprised. Every other time you were at-bat, you had hit righty. It was strange to see you switch it up. 

“Yeah, she’s a switch hitter. It’s probably to trip Soroka up,” Kelley shrugged. Their pitcher was known for having issues with lefties, and you guys needed a hit to win, so that was most likely your motivation. They just switched Anderson for him, so you changed that is too. 

“Soroka is solid. There’s no way she’s getting another hit off of him,” Emily fired back. The dude had one of the highest strikeout rates in the league, there was no way you were going to get anything more than a double. You were dangerous at-bat, and had already scored big, it was probably why they put him on the mound. 

“10 bucks?”  Kelley asked with a raised eyebrow, holding her hand out for a shake. Emily snorted, slapping the hand. 

“Deal,”

*****

You tightened your hands on the bat, your eyes taking in every detail of the pitcher. The bases were loaded, you were down by two, you needed a hit to keep your team alive. Soroka nodded at the catcher, winding up for the pitch. You had watched enough of his games to know what that windup meant. The ball seemed to move in slow motion as it left his fingers and screamed its way towards home plate, right down the middle in his famous fastball. You took a deep breath and swung the bat, a crack resounding throughout the stadium when it made contact. 

You watched the ball as it sailed towards the wall, standing frozen on home plate as it went. The fans roared when it came to a stop on the second deck of the stadium, a wide smile breaking across your face. You flipped your bat high and began the long trot around the bases, the fan’s cheers and the stadium’s fireworks the soundtrack to your success. 

“Now that’s how you impress,” You smirked cockily at Dansby as you rounded 2nd base. He was a good friend to you, but scoring a walk-off grand slam in the bottom of the 9th was the ultimate euphoric moment and it totally deserved a little bit of cockyness. 

“Whatever Y/L/N” The man smiled back shaking his head and low-fiving you as you passed him. You had beaten him in your competition to out show off to your girls this time, but he’d get you next time. Somehow, some way. 

As you jogged towards home plate, the camera zoomed in on you. You tapped your number, and blew a kiss towards it, hoping that Rose knew that you had hit that grand slam for her, to impress her. (unknown to you she caught the kiss through the T.V. and put it in her pocket). Sure she didn’t like baseball, but she loved you. 

[babbushka]

It’s All Worthwhile

Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader

3k, mostly fluff based off the song Baby It’s Cold Outside, with some NSFW (vanilla sex [PIV, lots of kissing])

Available on AO3

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

It’s snowing gently, when the last of the guests leave through the door of Kylo’s penthouse apartment. You can see the flurries passing across the great big windows that span across the living room, Manhattan a glow of golden lights. Windows, traffic and the little illuminating bulbs on the bridges twinkle in the dark, evening finally turned to night. Though it may be dark out in the world beyond these windows, inside Kylo’s apartment is comfortably lit and cozy.

Decorative lamps and of course the flame of the candles in the large menorah on the mantle fill the living room with a warm orange glow, one that has you hating the thought of leaving. But it was Kylo’s apartment, and you didn’t want to overstay your welcome, so you push yourself off the couch and make your way to the foyer where Kylo is closing the door behind the last of his guests.

He turns towards you, looking painfully handsome. It was a work party, upscale and exclusive for the top lawyers in his circle. Why Kylo decided to host the Hanukkah celebration at his place rather than the office he holds in the Freedom Tower was obvious – he had a damn good apartment and you could tell he was eager to show it off, to impress.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were impressed.

“I’m really glad you came, you know.” Kylo approaches you, leans up against the wall of the hallway.

He took off his suit jacket, loosened his tie. There was something about the more casual appearance that make you blink quickly, remembering that this was your greatest rival, your biggest enemy. He wasn’t handsome, he was a pain in your ass…or so you keep reminding yourself half-heartedly.

“It was a great party, I’m exhausted.” You lie, “I should probably head out.”

“You don’t have to.” Kylo’s eyes are hopeful, especially as he doesn’t even spare a glance to the giant windows before trying to come up with the excuse of, “I mean, well, look at this weather.”

There is nothing in your body that tells you to leave, and everything that is screaming at you to stay. One look at Kylo, and you can read in his body language that he doesn’t want you to go either, and that’s a comfort. Still though, he is on the other side, he’s on the rival team, he’s your competition. Did you have strong feelings for him? Of course! But…

But lately it was becoming harder and harder to figure out exactly what those feelings were. You had been convinced in the beginning that it was hatred – because damn Kylo really managed to piss you off sometimes – but now, now you’re not so sure.

“I really can't stay.” You say slowly, carefully, hoping hoping hoping that he’ll pick up the game you want to play.

Maybe both of you can get what you want without having to admit to it.

Maybe, just maybe, neither of you have to wear your hearts on your sleeve.

“But baby…it's cold outside.” Kylo catches on immediately, a great big grin slowly spreading across his face.

He approaches you, rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up over his forearms. The act is so casual, and yet your eyes are drawn to it instantly, unable to look away from the thick cords of muscle that flex as his hands reach for you. You’re all alone now, just the two of you, no one is around to see if maybe you should kiss, if maybe you should allow Kylo to hold you close.

“I’ve got to go away.” You allow him despite the words, allow him to slip an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies together.

“But baby, it's cold outside.” He shakes his head, biting at the inside of his cheek. He wants you desperately, wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. You are the first and only person to ever match him so well on so many levels, it’s absolutely intoxicating.

“This evening has been – ” You start, pulling away from him, finding your pulse beginning to race, your lungs beginning to squeeze as you hold your breath. You were so sure he would kiss you just then, but then he hadn’t, so away you go, just another step in the dance.

“I was hoping you'd drop in – ” Kylo talks at the same time as you, the two of you always did have a problem with interrupting one another, he hated that about you. He loves it.

“ – So very nice.” You begin to search for your gloves, taking a real long time, surely they haven’t gone too far. Maybe you spot them over by the long couch, and maybe you ignore that, maybe they weren’t yours after all.

“ – I'll hold your hands they're just like ice!” Kylo’s fingers twine through yours as he grasps your hand, spins you around and pulls you close to him once more.

His eyes are brown and sparkling in the warm glow, his chin tucked in to look at you properly. He had a good couple inches on you, even with your heels on, and you find that you don’t mind craning your neck up to bite back a smile at him, not one bit.

“My secretary will start to worry,” You say, licking your lips, your eyes on his mouth. They flick back up to his gaze, and he notices, of course he notices.

Kylo leans in, presses his forehead against yours, your noses rubbing together.

“Beautiful watch you're wearing…” He murmurs, turning your hand in his so he can see the diamonds catch the light. You’re so elegant, everything about you makes him sweat in his Louboutins.

“So really I'd better scurry.” You tilt your chin up a little, just barely a little, your bottom lip catching his ever so briefly. It’s not a kiss, not really – someone could come back in, couldn’t they? Maybe one of his friends forgot something behind, maybe someone was watching from a building across the way, maybe --

“Beautiful, please don't hurry.” Kylo brushes his lips back against yours, his eyes slipping closed, hand cupping your jaw, your cheek.

Beautiful? That was a first, your heart leaps in your chest. Kylo had called you a lot of things over the years that you have been butting heads together, how strange that this time, with your foreheads literally touching, he calls you something so sweet?

“…Well maybe just a half a drink more?” You finally start to show your cards, finally start to give him some proper leeway that he can take and run with.

And run with he does – he steps away from you abruptly, clapping his hands together once with excitement, already making his way to the elaborate home-bar that he has set up. The bartender he hired for the party is long gone, but Kylo knows his way around his spirits.

“Put some music on while I pour.” He gives you a cheeky grin, and you have to hide your face in your hands, chuckling out your happiness.

He could be such a jackass sometimes, but he could also be so incredibly thoughtful and charming and funny and smart and – oh no, you can practically feel yourself falling for him. You find that maybe, you don’t necessarily dislike the sensation of the butterflies in your stomach, as you step out of your heels to be more comfortable, and go over to the smart speaker mounted to the wall.

The baby grand piano sits comfortably in the corner of the great room, a few guests having taken a turn on the ivory keys, and you think that maybe one day you’d like to hear Kylo play. For now, the speaker will have to do, as you select a seasonally classical playlist of soft romantic music that immediately resonates through the room.

Kylo offers you a cocktail, and much to your surprise, there’s no alcoholic taste to it at all. You appreciate that, appreciate him not pressuring you to get tipsy or anything. Kylo wants you for you, wants you to be with him because you want to be with him. Still, you give him a bit of a hard time, even as he wraps one arm around your waist, the two of you slow dancing to the music.

“You know, the neighbors might think…” You raise a brow at him, and that makes him laugh out loud – he doesn’t have any neighbors, certainly not any that would matter. He’s all alone up here in this beautiful box in the sky.

Well, not entirely alone.

“Baby it's bad out there.” Kylo just shakes his head, giving you a spin that has you nearly missing your footing, the two of you giggling over the silliness of it all.

“Say what's in this drink?” You tease, knowing full well there’s nothing in it at all other than some sprite and pomegranate juice.

“Don’t joke like that.” Kylo stops moving entirely, grasps your jaw in his big hand and gets your attention with a scowl. You smile, both an apology and an understanding, not wanting to have caused him any offense. He rubs his thumb across your lip, the crease between his brows already slipping away, “In any case, you’ll never get a cab out there.”

That has you laughing again, just the realization of what you’re doing.

You’re in Kylo’s apartment, just the two of you, and you’re having fun. No yelling, no arguments, no name calling or temper tantrums for once, and it’s so nice. Now why couldn’t he be this agreeable all the time, you can’t help but wonder?

I wish I knew how, You think, casting a gaze over to the menorah that’s starting to burn down to nothing, to break this spell.

 Her eyes are like starlight now, Kylo thinks, regarding you softly, watching you watch the candles. He walks away from you and blows them out the rest of the way, not wanting his apartment to burn down if he leaves them unattended – and he was getting tired of staying in the living room.

He wants you in his bed, if you’ll allow him that privilege, if you want it too. Only if you want it, but fuck does he.

“I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell.” Kylo offers, holding a hand out for the beret that’s fastened to your head with a couple pins. He wants to touch your hair, wants to card his fingers through it, wants to caress and kiss and fuck you, if you’ll let him.

“I ought to say no no no, sir – ” You duck your head, unpinning the beret anyway, shaking your hair out from underneath it. Trying not to think about the possibility of hat-hair, you hand him the beret, his big hands folding it gently, resting it on the big glass coffee table.

“Mind if I move in closer?” Kylo steps out of his dress shoes, leaves them right there on the plush rug in the living room.

“—But maybe just a cigarette more.” You grin, taking his hand when he extends it to you.

“Never had such a blizzard before!” Kylo beams, practically pulls you up the stairs, leading you down the hallway to the master bedroom.

You don’t have much time to really look at any of the furnishings, but it’s neat and clean and well kept, the sheets crisp, everything varying shades of white and cream. Finally finally finally, Kylo surges forward to kiss you, his hands on your face, your neck, wanting you everywhere, wanting his hands on you everywhere too.

Kissing Kylo was always everything you thought it would be, you think as your hands fumble with your outfit, trying to get your clothes off and away. You and Kylo had had sex before, hard angry fucks in offices behind closed doors – but never anything like this. Never these soft laughs and gentle groans as Kylo helps get you naked, wanting not a single stitch of clothing on either of you.

Once your body is exposed to the slight chill of the air, you shuffle yourself under the covers of Kylo’s pristinely made bed. It’s a silent signal for him, one that tells him you’re spending the night, you’re not going to get out from under these blankets and sheets once you’re in them. Kylo reads you loud and clear, and practically trips over himself to get naked too.

He crawls under the covers with you too, and immediately you roll to face him, to get as far into his space as you possibly can. His hands grasp your face again, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you some more, sucking on your lips, your tongue, swallowing you whole. His hands move all over you, grasping at your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.

You throw a leg over his hip, his hard cock brushing against your stomach. It’s hot and throbbing, you wonder how desperate for you he must’ve been all evening. Kylo lowers one of his hands to your pussy and thrusts a couple of his thick fingers up inside you, stretching you just enough to take him, kissing you, breathing hard. Your head sinks into his soft plush pillows, and your body opens for him, especially as he rolls over on top of you. Legs falling apart, Kylo thrusts his cock into your wanting cunt with ease, the two of you letting out a moan when he finally bottoms out.

You’re both electrified by this, both wanting it, having wanted it all evening – wanted it for years. But that was a scary thought, so you stick to something safer like just tonight. The way he was such an effortless host, champagne glass in hand, laughing and smiling with ease at his guests, the way everyone was comfortable and not a single person had a single complaint was so sexy to you.

You had no idea, how could you have, but he threw the party for you.

Just for you.

Kylo grunts into the crook of your neck as your legs wrap around his waist, his arms caging you under his body as his cock rocks in and out of you, feeling too good, feeling right. It just feels right being here, and if he were to ask you, you know you’d agree.

“I got to – oh don’t stop – get home.” Still, the game isn’t over yet, there isn’t a clear winner, not yet.

Was it you? Or was it him? You both wanted the same thing for once, were both on the same side, what a Hanukkah miracle that was!

“But baby you'd fucking freeze out there.” Kylo pants as he speeds his hips up, watching the way your breasts bounce from the effort, from the sheer momentum of his thrusts. He shifts up enough to grasp the headboard for leverage, and your back arches up into his touch, mouth falling open and eyes pinched shut as you take the pleasure he so eagerly gives you.

“So lend me your coat – yes!” You’ve got so much spirit, so much stubborn strength, Kylo can’t help but laugh at your remark. You always have to have the last word, don’t you?

“No way, it's up to your knees out there.” Well, so does Kylo, and he smacks your thigh a little, watches as the flesh jiggles for him, your pussy soaking wet and velvety and tight around his cock, wanting nothing more than to come deep in you, claim you as his and let you claim him as yours.

“Look, you've really been great – ” You stumble and bumble and hiccup around the words as your toes curl, chest heaving, pleasure washing over you in waves and waves, “– Oh fuck, please?

“How do you do this to me?” Kylo groans out, dropping down back to your neck, worrying the skin there as his hips rut against yours, shallow thrusts with his cock practically buried in your hot pussy, not wanting to be anywhere else other than right here.

“There's bound to b-be talk tomorrow…” You moan, pinching at your nipples, trying to get some more friction as your orgasm builds builds builds, Kylo moving the whole bed, the entire mattress shifting on the supports.

“Think of my life long sorrow – ” Kylo grunts, thrusts growing erratic as he gets closer, pushing into you deeper, harder, faster, more more more until your whole body shakes and rattles and trembles.

“Oh – oh yes, yesyesyes right there Kylo!!” You’re loud, practically shouting out his name, the word echoing and bouncing around the ceiling.

“ – If you caught pneumonia and died, ohhh fuck.” He comes then, hearing his name on your lips, on your tongue, that frantic beating of his heart making him dizzy, making him sweat. He can feel his come spreading through you and your body goes limp under him, star-fishing out on his mattress.

You’ve got a big blissed out smile on your face, and Kylo thinks that as much of a fucking thorn in his side you are, he’d do anything to keep that smile there.

Not that he’d ever tell you that. You were rivals, after all.

“Hey Kylo?” You pant, wiping the sweat away from your brow.

“Mhm?” He’s collapsed down on top of you, and he’s half expecting you to tell him to get off, that he’s crushing you, that you can’t breathe and you’re dying and a million other things.

“I’m really glad I came too.” You whisper instead of all of that, and that wasn’t something that Kylo was prepared for, not really.

So he doesn’t say anything at all, grateful that you chose to be here with him, chose to accept his invite, chose to make this entire party worth it.

Because it was worth it, just getting to be with you.

 Oh baby it's cold,

Baby it's cold outside

 (tagging some lawyer!kylo friends, I hope this is alright no pressure to read of course! @safarigirlsp​ @direnightshade​ @barbers-glimmerin-darlin​ @steeevienicks​)

[panda-noosh]

the normal one {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 14k

Summary: Your sister is the demigod. You’re just the unlucky one who got dragged into her mess.

Genre: angst??

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - omg happy first day of nano y’all. 

---

  You never knew your sister was a demigod. 

   Of course you didn't; it's not the kind of thought that crosses the mind of a logical individual, though it seems obvious now that you're being greeted with the proof. 

   Emma has never been particularly normal. She's three years older than you, and yet she carries herself like she's been through years upon years of unforgiven trauma, glaring at anyone who dares even speak to her. You used to just describe her as grumpy, not-a-morning-person, just leave her alone and you'll be fine.

 Now, you're beginning to think it might not be as simple as all that.

    Your day starts off pretty normal; you wake up, greeted by the sunlight streaming through the curtains you once again forgot to close over the previous night. You look down, not surprised to see you're still dressed in a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose white shirt instead of the pyjamas your sister has been trying so desperately to make you wear at night. You got ready, brushing the knots from your hair before marching downstairs. 

   Your mum is in the kitchen, whistling to herself, frail hands forever trembling around the pot of boiling oatmeal; you and your mum don't really talk that much. She favours Emma over you, and she's never found much point in wasting breath on the child she doesn't necessarily like. She'll smile, feed you, let you have a roof over your head, but neither of you pretend like your relationship with each other is permanent. One day you're going to move out, and your mum is never going to contact you, never going to step foot in your house, never going to give you a house-warming gift. 

You're fine with that. 

Emma is sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. It's not even that weird of a sight, considering you've always known Emma to be into the dramatics. You sit across from her, folding your arms over the table before whispering, rather loudly, "Rough night?" 

Her head jerks up, revealing her wild, bloodshot eyes. "What?" 

You laugh, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. "You look like shit, Em. Where have you been all night?"

 Her jaw twitches, and she doesn't respond, which is a pretty normal reply for her, especially at this time of day. 

 "Whatever," you mumble. "Can I borrow that fancy deodorant you bought back from that summer camp you go to?" Emma nods. You grin, banishing the conversation all together as you stand and skip upstairs.

 So, yeah. The day was starting off pretty normal. Not a single worry in sight. You would go to school, mope around classes for a few hours, come home and stress eat over a pile of unfinished homework that was probably due multiple days ago. 

Instead, you have to deal with the boulders being thrown through Emma's bedroom window. 

The first one hits just as your grabbing Emma's fancy deodorant from her bottom drawer. There is no warning, no low whoosh sound that would give you a chance to step away and make a run for it - no. Instead, it goes straight to the shattered glass and bloodied arms. Instead, it goes straight to the boulder smashing against your hand, crushing your fingers against the wall.

 You are stuck, legs crumbling beneath you. You should be slipping to the floor right now, probably unconscious, maybe dead, but your hand, trapped between the biggest rock known to man and the wall, keeps you upright. Blood leaks from gashes forming on your fingers, dribbling down your wrist, your arm, dripping onto your knees. You stare at the scene in shock for a moment, unable to register what on earth has actually just happened. 

And then Emma is screaming your name, thundering up the stairs, and you're crying out, trying to form words but they get lodged in your throat, replaced by the overwhelming pain and realisation that you're going to die, you're going to fucking die on your sisters bedroom floor because there is so much blood, and there is no way in hell you won't be drained before the end of this day, probably within the next ten minutes, probably within-

The door opens. Emma barrels inside, wielding a golden sword that honestly just makes you think of course she has a golden sword. 

"You son of a bitch!" she cries out, darting to her bedroom window. She stands upon the sill and waves her arms at the sky. "You got the wrong L/N, you idiot! Get back here and finish me off if you're so tough!" 

"Emma," you croak, tears flooding down your cheeks. "Little help here." 

"It's the giants." She leaps off the window sill and swivels round, darting to your side. Something has changed in her, something you've never seen before; she seems stronger, her eyes a little brighter yet still eerily dark at the same time.

 She crouches beside you and begins manoeuvring your trapped hand back and forth. You hiss, throwing your head back as blood spurts down your arm, staining your shirt. Emma grits her teeth, keeping her eyes peeled on her work. "They've found me," she continues muttering. "We need to get out of here - all of us. You, me, Mum. They know where the house is. How did they find out where the bloody house is?" 

"Can you shut the fuck up talking crazy for one second?"

 Emma pays you no mind, taking a tiny knife from her back pocket and wriggling it between the wall and the boulder. "I'll have to get in touch with Chiron, tell him I'm bringing a few mortals with me to camp this summer." 

You grunt. "I'm not going to some hippy-Christian summer camp with you." 

"It's not a hippy-Christian summer camp." Emma swats your head, forcing you to look away from the blood dribbling down your arm. "It's a place that will keep you safe, alright? So don't argue." 

"Don't tell me what to - AH!" The boulder falls, crashing to the floor. Tables rattle, things tumble off shelves, and your hand is freed. You pull it to your chest, but Emma doesn't let it go unaided for long - she grabs your wrist and tugs it back, examining the damage; your nerves have clearly been ripped, fingers cold from lack of feeling. Gashes have been made into the back of your hand, fingers torn to shreds. 

 She shakes her head. "I'll get Will to have a look at this."

 "No, you idiot, you'll call 999 before-" 

"We have to go now. That giant will be back soon enough, especially once he realises I'm taking you guys with me." Emma doesn't even give you a chance to respond before she's grabbing your good hand and dragging you from her bedroom. You hiss in pain, stumbling behind her, but there's really no point in arguing. When Emma has her mind set on something, she goes for it no matter what objections people put in place. Mum always said she gets that from her dad, but you've never met the man, so you wouldn't know.

 Speaking of your dear old mother, the woman doesn't even give you a second glance when Emma drags you into the living room and shoves you onto the sofa next to her; she's frozen in fear, fingers pulled to her lips as she bites on the nails, a habit she's had for as long as you can remember.

 She shakes her head, dazed. "He's coming back to me. He's sending signs." 

Emma groans. Looking over, you see her with a phone pressed to her ear, big and bulky with an oversized antennae peeking from the top of it. "Mum, that wasn't Dad sending signs. That was a giant trying to kill me." 

You blink, certain your blood loss is contributing to this wild conversation somehow. "A giant? Your dad?" 

Emma raises a finger, telling you to be quiet. Mum whimpers at the movement and goes back to chewing her nails, gazing steadily out the window. She looks terrified, but her knee is bouncing in that way it always does when she's excited. You've given up trying to understand her. In fact, you've given up trying to understand your entire family.

So you just sit there, trying to fight off the black spots dotting your vision and the blood dribbling through your fingers; you don't know why Emma hasn't called 999 yet, considering you're basically on the verge of unconsciousness, but your throat is too dry to ask. Instead you listen as she says, "Leo! Where are you? Are you close?" and then she sighs in relief, and within three minutes, there's a knock on the door and she's barrelling out of the living room to grab it.

 You look up, dazed, when she returns with a small curly haired boy in tow. He's a bit scruffy, you have to admit, but in a cute way, like a bunny with a bit of dirt on its nose. 

"Not really the time for guests, is it, Em?" you grumble, before falling face first into the floor. 

--- 

You wake up, and immediately wish you hadn't.

 Emma always messes things up - always. 

Her life has to be so damn dramatic all the damn time, and you're getting pretty damn sick of being dragged into it. All you want to do is sit in bed with a nice blanket and a cup of tea, maybe practice a bit of witchcraft, maybe sink into the dirt and become one with nature. 

You don't want to be hunted down by rabid, murderous giants, that's for sure.

 You also don't want to be trapped in a hospital bed at some hippy-Christian camp you don't even know the name of. But that's exactly what has happened. 

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of white, cloth walls and multiple eager faces gazing down at you. Most of them have blonde hair and the brightest eyes you have ever seen, and then there's that curly haired boy, and Emma herself, and there's a guy who is half horse-

 "Oh god, this is death. I've died." 

"She's awake!" the curly haired boy - Leo, you remember - cries, throwing his hands in the air. "Good job, Apollo kids! Another point for you!" 

"Shut up, Leo." One of the many blonde haired kids steps forward and places the back of his hand against your forehead; in any other situation, you might have pulled away and told him to step back, but the feel of his skin against your own is surprisingly soothing. It's almost against your will when you melt into it, eyes gliding shut. Your hit with images of you and Emma as children, running through fields, her punching that guy in the nose because he called you short that one time, and-

 He snatches his hand back, startling you back to reality. "The fevers definitely going down," he says, turning to Emma. 

"Uh, excuse me," you chirp, raising a timid hand. "She's not my legal guardian, I'll have you know." You glance at Emma. "Where is my legal guardian, by the way?" 

Emma rolls her eyes, and that's answer enough. 

"Ah. Frollicking in the leaves again?"

 Emma hums. "I left her to it; we have bigger things to worry about than her love life."

 "That's a bit morbid, Emma," says Leo. "Love is a magnificent thing."

 "So is me not dying," you say, before turning back to the blonde haired boy. "Can I leave?"

 The boy blinks, staring at you like you have two heads. It almost makes you uncomfortable, but his eyes are so pretty, and the way his palm felt against your forehead- 

Leo shoves to the front. "Will here is gay, Y/N. Stop staring." 

You look away, flustered. "I wasn't even staring." 

"Yeah, you were. I see that look of lust on people all the time - I get it a lot, to tell you the truth." 

You look at his curls, the oil on his tattered overalls, the dirt smothering both his cheeks, nose and hands. 

"I'm sure you do, big guy. I'm sure you do."

 Will sighs, shoving Leo out the way again. "I'm gonna do a final check up before I let you leave; I can't give mortals any nectar or ambrosia, so the healing process might take-" 

Awkwardly, Emma coughs. The entire tent goes silent, turning to her with raised brows and narrowed eyes, but all you can focus on is Will's strange choice of vocabulary. Nectar. Ambrosia. Those don't sound like common prescription pain meds. 

"Emma..." Will drawls. "What have you-" 

"I'll talk to them," Emma mumbles. "Can you guys just give us a minute?"

 You grab Will's hand. "Please don't leave me alone with her." 

Will gives you a timid smile, squeezing your hand gently before he, Leo and all the other blonde haired strangers exit the tent, leaving just you and Emma to your own devices. 

And honestly, Emma's your best friend. She means the world to you. She's the one person in that god forsaken house that actually pays you any attention, and it doesn't even matter that she's the favourite, that Mum basically licks the ground she walks on for a reason you have yet to pinpoint. You love Emma with all your heart, but right now, you would rather be anywhere but in her presence. 

You pull the quilt up to your chin and say, "I'm very confused." 

Emma pulls a stool over and takes a seat. "I know. I should have explained. I need to explain." 

"Yes, you do." 

She hollows out her cheeks, which only makes your fear spike - you've never seen Emma act like this. She's usually so brave, bold, confident. She doesn't do a single thing without planning it out perfectly beforehand, and yet here she is, looking completely stumped. You almost feel bad for her until you remember the way she completely ignored your pleas for her to call 999 when you were fairly certain you were bleeding out. 

"Well?" you push. "Go on, Em. I'm listening."

 Emma sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Do you have any idea where we are right now?" 

"Absolutely none. There was a guy with a horse body-" 

"That's Chiron. He's a centaur." 

You blink. "Okay." 

"This place is called Camp Half-Blood; it's where I go to every summer."

 "Well, I assumed." 

"It's a camp for Half-Bloods. Demigods. People who are half-god, like. . . like me. Like Leo, and Will, and probably loads of other kids, too."

 It's starting to get jumbled now, a string of words that don't form to make a coherent, sensible sentence. 

You don't even respond, simply staring at Emma until she is forced to continue. 

"It sounds insane, I know, but I'm not lying. I'm a demigod, Y/N, daughter of Ares." 

It goes silent, because of course it does. What are you even meant to say to that? The logical part of you says to just call her out on her lies, ask her where the hell you actually are and where Mum is and why she brought you here in the first place. But the other half recognises that Emma being the daughter of a war god kind of makes perfect sense.

 In your conflicted state of disbelief, you say neither of those things. Instead, you look at Emma and say, "Mum hooked up with a god?" 

Emma breathes a laugh, closing her eyes. "Yes, little one, she did." 

"And she couldn't have done the same thing when she was conceiving me?"

 Emma winces. "I don't want to talk about Mum conceiving either of us, thank you very much." 

You shake your head. "So that's why she's always hated me."

 "Mum doesn't hate you-" 

"I'm the repair kid. I'm the one who-" 

Leo pops his head in the door. "Did someone say repair kid?" 

Emma looks up, giving Leo a tired little wave. "You can come back in now. Y/N's all caught up."

 "Oh, happy days!" Leo marches in and reaches for your good hand, giving it a vigorous shake. "Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus. Nice to properly meet you." 

"Y/N L/N, child of - uh - that guy from McDonalds.

 Emma stands up quickly, grabbing Leo's shoulders as his eyes narrow. "Alright! Now that we've got the niceties out of the way, I think it's time we let Will back in here so he can do his final check up. Sound good?"

 "Sounds fantastic," you mumble, sinking down into the pillows. "Bring the nice looking blonde boy to me now, please." 

---- 

Camp Half-Blood kind of looks like a dream scape. But a really bad one.

 A nightmare-scape. 

There's sword fighting, and teeny tiny girls in green dresses that get wildly offended when you call them Tinkerbell. There's people riding around on winged horses like it's no big deal, and you're almost certain it was raining when you left the house earlier, so why is it sunny and warm right now?

 Leo is the one who greets you when you're finally allowed to step out of the tent - the infirmary, apparently, run by the kids of Apollo. All of them were really nice. They all had really nice hands. 

"You're looking fresh," Leo says, tucking his hands in his pockets as the two of you stroll across camp together. "Will and his siblings really know what they're doing, huh? I had my doubts, with you being a mortal and all. I don't know how often they work on people like you."

 You shrug. "It was just a bit of nerve damage in my hand." 

"You passed out." 

"I blanked. It happens to the best of us."

 Leo's lips twitch. It shows you just the briefest hint of dimples, and you hate that it immediately turns your tough-guy demeanour to mush. It seems like you have a soft spot for demigods. You look away quickly, tucking your hands - bandage and all - into your pockets. It's this movement that seems to tilt Leo's attention to the clothes you're wearing, all of which are smothered in your own blood. 

Pleasant. 

He grimaces, stopping dead in his tracks. You would continue walking, being an independent mortal and all that, but you don't know your way around this place, and you'd rather not accidentally walk into a fighting arena. So, you stop and look back at him. "What's wrong?" 

"You need a change of clothes, my friend."

 You blink. "No, I don't think-"

 "They might be a bit big on you, but I have the perfect pair of overalls you could borrow. Come on. To Bunker 9 we go." 

He starts walking away before you even have a chance to protest. It really puts the fear of god - gods? - in you, because at that very moment, a winged horse slams into the floor at your side. You squeal, immediately sprinting after him, and the bastard doesn't even turn back to look at what has just startled you. He merely grins, cocky and annoying, and says, "Yeah, stick with me and that won't happen."

 You grunt, knowing he's right.

 The two of you arrive at Bunker 9 in no time. It's like an old bomb shelter, with tin walls and a door that looks like it's about to fall off it's hinges. You make a joke about why Leo can't just fix the hinges, considering he's a machine expert and all that, and Leo rolls his eyes and says, "I'm busy enough as it is."

 The room lights up without a switch needing to be flipped, which you think is pretty cool. 

 "My school used to have lights like that," you point out, gazing up at the ceiling. "They were motion censored."

 "Mm. They're handy little things until you haven't moved in fifteen minutes and they switch off whilst you're still standing there. The amount of times I've nearly put a screw through my finger." He shakes his head, tossing aside discarded tools in his search for the overalls he promised you. "Mental." 

You pluck at a random copper wire hanging out of a drawer. "So, is this like. . . your dorm room?" 

"Hm?" Leo looks at you. "Oh, no. I don't sleep in here - I sleep in the Hephaestus cabin. I'm the head counsellor, so I have to keep an eye on things, you know."

 You raise a brow. "Is your bed more comfy in the Hephaestus cabin?"

 "That, too." He blushes, lowering his eyes back to his search. "But honestly, my job is pretty important. I've got to keep that place running, keep all my siblings in check."

 "I'm not being funny, if Emma tried telling me what to do, I would tell her to piss off."

 Leo scoffs. "Yeah, I got that vibe off you."

 "So how do you do it?" 

Leo pauses, glancing over his shoulder."How do I do what?"

You push yourself up onto the counter, ignoring the saw dust that now litters your hands and the back of your already ruined jeans. "How do you get them to listen to you? You don't look to be much older than I am - surely you have older siblings in that cabin of yours. It can't be easy getting them to fall into line, too." 

Slowly, Leo turns. He leans against the chest of drawers he has been digging through, regarding you with a single raised brow. His gaze is hard, but you keep the eye contact, smiling just the tiniest bit. 

He doesn't respond with words. Instead, he stretches his hand out, palm towards the ceiling, and uncurls his fingers, revealing a bright orange flame dancing in the centre. It doesn't make you jump as it probably should have; instead, you are mesmerised, caught in the slick movements of the tiny ball of fire. 

You slowly reach out. Leo slams his hand closed and pulls back. "You can't touch it."

 "I wasn't going to." 

"You were fully going to touch it."

 You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. "What was the point in showing me that?" 

He turns on his heel, going back to digging through the chest of drawers. "That's why I'm head counsellor - no other child of Hephaestus can do that." He glances at you. "You don't think it's weird?"

"Well, yeah - very weird." You shrug. "But who am I to judge? I can do this thing where I dislocate my shoulder, and that's pretty weird, too."

 Leo blinks, mouth opening like you've caught him off guard. He swipes his tongue along his lower lip before he turns away and mumbles, "Yeah. That is pretty weird." 

Bunker 9 is doused in silence after that. Leo rummages through his drawers as you inspect every nook and cranny of the place, running your fingers along the tin walls, picking up tools you have never seen before; you can feel Leo watching you from the corner of his eye, probably making sure you're not stealing anything. Honestly, the golden screwdriver set is pretty tempting, but you wouldn't want to risk getting on a demigod's bad side. 

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Leo pops his head up, grinning broadly with a set of overalls in his hands. "Found them!" He tosses them at you with no warning; you just barely manage to catch them. "They got shrunk in the wash, so I was gonna rip them up for hand towels in here, but I'm sure they'll be more useful for you." 

You pull them into your chest. "They smell like oil." 

Leo spreads his oil stained hands. "Yeah, well, that's how life is, love. I'll let you get changed - I promise I won't peak!"

 Laughing, he leaves Bunker 9; his footsteps stop there, though, and there's a glimmer of relief when you realise he isn't just walking away and leaving you to your own devices. 

 You get changed quickly, bundling your blood stained clothes into a ball and shoving them beneath your arm - you don't know where you can possibly wash them, but you refuse to leave this camp in Leo's old overalls. First of all, they're much too big on you, pooling over your feet despite Leo's own small stature. The striped shirt he gave you to put underneath it has oil spots embedded in it, too, which just makes you look like even more of a slump. Nonetheless, you throw open the door to Bunker 9 with your arms outstretched and call out, "How do I look?" 

Leo peaks his head around and freezes. 

You drop your arms, rolling your eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. This isn't a romance movie." 

His nose erupts into flames. He yelps, swatting the fire away before he awkwardly coughs and says, "Good. You look good." 

You grin. "Thank you. Do you have any idea where I can put these?" You offer up your pile of clothes. Leo takes them from your hands and tosses them over your shoulder, back into Bunker 9. You frown. "Do you have a washing machine in there?" 

"It won't take me long to rig one up. I'll have them washed before you leave, don't worry." He offers his arm, grinning yet again. "Now, how about we go up to the dining pavilion and get some food? I'm starving!" 

---- 

Leo did not know one of his best friends was related to such an attractive individual. 

It wasn't really that big of a shock when he walked in and saw you sitting there in the living room, looking dazed and out of it with blood dribbling from some pretty severe cuts in your hand. Emma had rang him and filled him on all the details, so there was no surprise at the scene. And plus, Emma's not exactly ugly. She has that rough look to her, sure, but Leo would probably date her if she asked him. Again, it wasn't much of a surprise when he walked in and saw you there, all pretty with the innocence only a mortal could have. 

But then he got a glimpse of your personality.

 No. Scratch that. He got an entire bucketload of your personality, and he was still craving more by the end of it.

 He tried his hardest to fight off these feelings, because he's felt them before - with almost every person he finds attractive, in fact. He gets it lodged in his head that he can impress them, that this is the one and he can make it work if he just tries hard enough. It's kind of hard not to think that way - hopeful, desperate, almost - when all his friends are hooking up and getting boyfriends and girlfriends, generally just having the time of their damn lives. And Leo is just. . . making machines.

 But then the two of you went and had dinner together, and he found himself asking if you wanted to go for a walk along the lake before you would have to go to bed. You had agreed, and the conversation had continued, and Leo has never laughed so much in his entire life. 

You tell stories of these little memories you have with Emma, enjoying the embarrassing little details you add in whenever you can. Leo struggles to imagine the daughter of Ares being anything close to the Emma you're describing, but he can tell in the passion of your words you're not telling lies. 

"What about you, though?" he asks. 

Your hands drop to your side, smile curving. "What about me?"

 "Well, you're going on about Emma and all the cool stuff she used to do - what about you, though? What have you been up to?" 

It's a pretty simple question in Leo's mind; with his ADHD brain, he is able to come up with a million different answers on the spot. 

You, however, look at him with a raised brow. He stares right back. 

Finally, you crack and say, "Uh. . . I've been doing some school work, I guess." 

Leo blinks. "You go to school?"

 "I do indeed. I'm studying psychology, but it's really difficult, so I might drop it." 

Leo nods like he understands, even though he doesn't. All he really remembers of his school days is him sitting in the back of the classroom plotting his next escape. "Interesting," he says. "Does Emma go to school?" 

"She's doing an apprenticeship at some mechanics place. She dropped out when she turned sixteen."

 "Naughty." 

You shrug. "She does what she wants. I would love to drop out, but Mum would flip." Leo glances at you; the mention of your Mum seems to be something a little heavy, as your smile immediately dips, your shoulders slumping. Leo knows he probably shouldn't pry, but he's Leo, so he does anyway. 

"Is your mum tough on you?" 

"No. She's not tough at all. She's not light, either. She just. . . lives with me, I guess." 

"She just lives with you?" 

You inhale, looking out over the lake. For a moment, Leo thinks you might start crying, but then he shakes that thought out of his mind, because you don't seem like the type to cry in front of a stranger, and that's really all Leo is, which is why he shouldn't expect you to open up to him right now, not if this is something you don't want to- 

"Mum only had me because she wanted to see if she could get over Emma's dad." You wince. "Ares, I guess." 

Leo pauses. His fingertips start glowing, a sign of his anger, but he shoves them in his pockets and dispels the flames before you see them. "That's horrible."

 You shrug halfheartedly. "It's fine. She was crazy about the guy from what I've heard - it's why Emma's her favourite. She's the only piece of him she has left, really."

 "But that doesn't mean-"

 "You don't have to tell me she's a bad mother, Leo. I know. I've known from day one; I've just gotten used to it." You pick up a rock and toss it into the lake. "Honestly, we're better off out of each other's hair anyway; put us in a room together and make us talk, we'll probably burn the house down."

 Leo doesn't know how to respond; he's never felt like that. Ever. Even with his dad, there's always been some level of affection there, even though his dad is a Greek god who only pops in when he wants something; Hephaestus has never straight-up ignored him, never made his favouritism clear.

 Leo finds he wants to punch something, and not even the steady whisper of the lake can calm him down. He walks a little bit behind you as the silence settles, you picking up random rocks and tossing them into the water, apologising profusely when the eighteen tentacled octopus pokes its head up and yells at you. 

Your calmness makes it even worse, though, because that lets Leo know that this treatment is something you've grown used to. You've never known any different. 

---- 

Three days in, and Emma still insists on keeping you at Camp Half-Blood. 

"You're not leaving until that giant is dead, and that might take a while." 

You drape your arm over your forehead, still sprawled across her bed in the Ares cabin. It's a pretty musty cabin, to be fair, but you won't mention that when all of Emma's siblings are glaring daggers at you. "Do you have any idea how many assessments I'm missing? Mr Wrightchuck is gonna be furious with me, and I do not have the mental energy to deal with his shit right now."

 Emma throws a pair of shorts at you. "Shut up and fold those for me." 

 You grunt, sitting up and getting to work; you've decided to make yourself at least a little bit useful around here. These people were nice enough to offer you accommodation, even though it's clear being around mortals isn't exactly their everyday routine. The amount of times you've hissed in pain because of your hand and been offered a chunk of ambrosia is uncountable. 

 "So," Emma starts suddenly, taking you by surprise; she hardly ever initiates conversations, preferring to brood in her own head when she can get away with it. 

You look at her, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the bright pink laundry hamper she stole off your Aunt Grace. She's not even looking up, lips pursed, eyebrows raised as if expecting you to fill in the blanks from that single word. 

"So, what?" you push. "What did I just say, Emma? I don't have the mental energy-"

 "You and Leo have been hanging out an awful lot these past few days." 

You pause. That certainly wasn't what you had been expecting to hear. 

"Uh. . . I suppose. He's a cool guy. Cool fire, and stuff." You wriggle your fingers, imitating flames, though Emma's sideways glare makes you mumble an apology and drop your hand to your side. "Is there something wrong with Leo and I being pals?"

 "Leo's a very. . . hopeful boy," Emma replies. "He tends to get lost in his own fantasies sometimes."

 You blink. "What, like kinks?" 

 Emma groans, throwing some socks at you. "No, you idiot! When he likes someone, he tends to get a little carried away. It's quite sad to see, actually." 

"What does that have to do with me and him being friends?"

 Emma glances at you; you recognise that look. It makes your stomach curl, heat rising to your cheeks. You look away, coughing awkwardly into her shirt before you mumble, "No. No, absolutely not. Leo doesn't like me that way." 

Emma shrugs, grin spreading across her face. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just saying, if you don't like him that way, try and break the illusion as soon as possible. It's easier to just rip the bandaid off."

 "You're heartless." 

"I'm a daughter of Ares, Y/N. We don't bullshit people. We say it how it is."

 You scowl, snatching another set of trousers from her wash pile and getting to work, trying to ignore the thump of your heartbeat, which suddenly seems to have sped up a fair bit.

 ---- 

You lose track of how long it has been since you last saw your mother. 

This happens sometimes, these long stretches of time when neither of you will acknowledge the other person; it's easier that way, just pretending she doesn't exist, just pretending the house is empty besides you.

 You've been caught up in camp activities these past few weeks. Your hand is starting to heal, the nerves tingling, which Will says is a good sign. You've been talking to other campers, learning more and more about the world Emma has kept hidden from you for so long, a world that fascinates you, a world you will never want to be properly part of. 

Now, however, you see her. Sitting on her own by the lake, knobbly knees pulled into her chest, dazed eyes locked on the swirling water in front of her. The little sea creatures have long since hidden, probably put-off by the presence of a stranger, but your mother doesn't seem to care. She just sits all on her own, long hair billowing out behind her as the moon begins to rise in the distance.

 You lean against a tree just a little bit behind her and say, "Are you not cold?" 

She doesn't even flinch, like the voice of her child has no effect on her whatsoever. Instead, she digs her fingernails into the dirt and grabs a handful of stones, lobbing them into the lake. 

You sigh and crouch down next to her; she smells of sweat and dirt, a sure sign that she hasn't been taking much care of herself these past few weeks. "Let's go back to the Big House, Mum. You're gonna get hypothermia out here."

 "He will protect me," she replies. "He's always protecting me." 

"You mean Ares? Emma's Dad?" 

"He's protected me from day one; he loves Emma and I. He's just busy." 

You swallow, staring at the side of her face. "I'm sure he does, Mum. But he's clearly running a little late right now, so he's asked me to come make sure you get wrapped up before the wind eats you alive." You gaze at the trees. "Which I'm pretty sure is a thing that actually happens here." 

Finally, your mum gazes at you, lower lip trembling. "I just want him to talk to me." 

You freeze; it's most unlike your mother to talk like this, especially to you. She rants and raves about Ares to Emma, but she barely pays you any attention when it comes to things like this. You don't really know how to handle it, whether you should comfort her and tell her Ares loves her - this Greek god, surviving somewhere on Mount Olympus, overlooking the entire world. Yes, of course he still loves her. Of course he does. 

But the other half of you just doesn't want to lie. You don't want to get her hopes up any more than they already are, because anyone with a brain will be able to see that Ares has long since forgotten about the mortal woman he apparently fell in love with, and the daughter they created together.

 So, you grab your mum's hand and drag her to her feet. She slumps against you like a child having a tantrum, and you have to basically lift her off the floor to get anywhere. Nonetheless, you eventually have her standing, and together, you walk up the hill, back to the main camp.

 It's dark, probably past curfew, but campers are still walking about. Mostly the Apollo cabin, never off their feet with the casualties they have to tend to in a day, though there are other campers enjoying a late night cup of hot chocolate by the fire, laughing merrily. They don't notice you walking up the hill, don't notice your mum mumbling to herself, words you can't even grasp being right beside her. 

"The Ares cabin," your mum suddenly blurts.

 You pause, nearly stumbling over your own two feet as your head whips around to the direction she is now staring, eyes wide.

 "Yes, Mum," you grumble. "That is the Ares cabin - now, can we keep moving before my fingers fall off?"

 "Is that where you've been sleeping these past few weeks?" 

You narrow your eyes. "What? Yes, Mum, it is; Emma lets me sleep with her, now can we please-" 

"He isn't your father." 

You stop dead in your tracks; oh no. You've heard this line of speech before, and it's never pleasant. Mum gets angry, enraged, when she thinks you're trying to take on the same status as her beloved Emma, daughter of the war god. She likes to keep you in your place, which is a good few tiers below everybody else, apparently. 

"I know that," you say quickly. "Emma was just nice enough to lend me her bed so I didn't have to sleep in the Hermes cabin - you know I don't know my way around here, so-"

 "He wouldn't like you sleeping amongst his children. He told me."

 "He what now?"

 She shakes out of your grip, gritting her teeth. Her eyes are wild, dilated beyond anything you've ever seen, and when she next speaks, the words are a cry. "He told me!" She shakes her head, gripping the strands of hair between trembling fingers. "He's so mad at me, Y/N; he told me it was disrespectful to have a child with another man. He said he would burn you to the ground if you stepped out of line. He said he would kill you, just to teach me a lesson for going behind his back!" 

You blink. You're used to this. You're meant to be used to this, but holy mother of god - gods? - you don't know what she's on about. You've never heard her talk like this. You've never heard her speak of your death before, and the words coming from her mouth are so eerie, so fucking terrifying that you stumble back, hands trembling, tears rushing to the surface. 

"You crazy bitch." 

She laughs, loud and clear so the entire camp's attention turns directly to her. "That's what he said! He called me insane, and then he said he loved me and gave me a child - and that child certainly wasn't you."

 "Mum, what are you-" 

"He talks to me sometimes, you know." She nods, hands still buried in her hair, tugging her eyes back so she looks demented. "In my head, he talks. We have little conversations, but he's been so much more talkative since we arrived here, like this place really is my home." She releases her hair, eyes dimming. "But you're not meant to be here; he told me that, too. He said Emma and I were welcome amongst his kind, but not you - not a bastard like you." 

You look around; all the demigods are on their feet now, staring at the scene in confusion. It's embarrassing, absolutely mortifying to suddenly be the centre of their attention, especially under such circumstances.

"Okay," you croak out. "Okay, that's fine - I'll go, then. Leave you and Emma here. I don't mind, Mum. You don't have to get angry." 

Mum's nostrils flare. "It's not me who's angry - it's him-" 

"Well, tell him that he doesn't have to get his godly bollocks in a twist, because I'm leaving." You raise your hands in faux surrender, taking a few tentative steps back. "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." 

The words hurt, but they're the truth - especially now. Mum doesn't respond, merely stares as you take a few more steps backwards, turn on your heel and dart towards the Ares cabin, fighting desperately to push the tears away, because crying is stupid. 

This is just your mum being. . . your mum, just as she's always been. Sure, her words tonight were a little harsher than you're used to, but her neglect has given you thick skin, thick enough to take her words on the chin.

 You see the Ares cabin, and run right past it towards the lake. You nearly slip in the mud on your way down the hill, catching yourself before finally crumbling to the floor against a tree by the lake side. 

You'll take her words on the chin, but you'll cry over them first.

 ----

 When Leo hears the news, he's pretty sure his blood turns to fire.

 He's half-asleep, but that doesn't stop his understanding of Will's words, his descriptions of the scene he just witnessed at the camp fire.

 And the thing is, after hearing all the things your mum has done to you, Leo isn't even surprised to hear it's finally boiled over.

 Doesn't make him any less angry. 

He storms out of the Hephaestus cabin wearing nothing but his pyjamas. He feels the heat beneath his skin, threatening to break the surface as he forces it down, gritting his teeth. He's half tempted to turn to the Big House to give your mum a piece of his mind, but his main concern at the moment is you, and where you've gone, and where you plan on going, because according to Will, your last words to her were "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." That's a horrible thought. Leo doesn't want to think about that. 

He heads to the lake, because according to Will, that's the direction you were running, and Leo knows how much you like the lake; it calms you down, you said, and he stored that piece of information in his brain for weeks, as if in preparation for this very moment.

 He stops at the top of the hill and gazes down, lighting up the darkness with a ball of fire cupped in the palm of his hand. You don't flinch at the sudden intrusion, instead curling into a tighter ball against the roots of a tree, burying your head in your knees. The sight breaks his heart. He swallows, slowly waddling down the hill, careful not to fall in the dirt. 

You don't look up when he finally arrives at your side. "Y/N." 

"Who told you?" 

Leo crouches. "Will. He said you seemed upset."

 "That's literally nobody's business."

 Leo sighs, slumping against the tree beside you; his shoulder brushes your own, and for a moment, you stiffen against his side. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you're not cool with that," he says. "I'm not being nosy or anything." 

"Yes, you are." 

"No, I'm really not. I just wanted to make sure that witch didn't hurt your feelings too bad." He pauses. "What did she actually say?" 

Your head snaps up, eyes blood shot, lips dry. "Ah, see! You are just being nosy!" 

He swats your arm, scowling. "Be quiet, no I'm not; but how am I meant to help you if I don't even know what happened?"

 "I never said I wanted help, Leo. My mum not caring about me isn't something that can just be helped." And you didn't even realise those were the words you were going to say, because they sound so heartbreaking, so self-pitying, even though they're the truth. You've always just brushed your mothers behaviour off as normal, the only hand you've ever been dealt, but phrasing it in that way, claiming she doesn't care . . . something about that makes your heart break. 

Your lower lip trembles before you can stop it, fresh tears springing to the surface. You remember holidays, catching Emma wrapping up gifts of her own to give to you, just so you could wake up to something on Christmas morning. You remember making your own Halloween costume because your mother spent all her money on Emma's. You remember thinking it was okay, because it was all you ever knew. 

You're older now, though. You can recognise mistreatment when you see it, but it's still a blow to the chest realising that you were on the other end of it, that you're a victim, whether you want to deny it or not.

 Leo notices your sudden change of emotions and immediately lurches forward. His fingers are hot, almost scalding when they make contact with your arm, his brown eyes burning holes into your own. His eyebrows are furrowed when he says your name in a whisper, just your name, like nothing else needs to be said.

 You close your eyes. "I'm fine." 

"I wish you'd stop saying that. It's starting to grate on my skull, and I can't afford that kind of damage." 

You let out a breath of a laugh, just because you think it's appropriate; in truth, you find none of this funny. You want to curl up and cry. You want to leave Camp Half-Blood and everything it stands for, start a life away from demigods and Greek gods alike.

 What's stopping you? 

Leo's hands heat up on your arm, forcing you to look at him again. He's closer now, head tilted, all amusement flushed from his features, which is a sad enough sight on it's own. It's been two seconds, but you already miss that sparkle in his eyes. 

"Hey," he says quietly. "Talk to me."

 And you do. You don't know why, but you do. The words pour out like a broken faucet, a complete mess of incoherence's that Leo - and only Leo - would ever be able to understand. He nods along like the words are making sense, like these sentences aren't just complete gibberish.

When you finish explaining everything that happened down at the camp fire, you gasp, starved for air. Leo grabs your hand and tugs you forward, cupping your face in his attempts to calm you down; you didn't realise the tears had started pouring, didn't realise you're breathing heavily, totally lost, unable to catch a breath.

 "Calm down," he mumbles. "Y/N, calm down. I'm here. I've got you, pal, I've got you." 

You close your eyes, leaning into his palm. He traces his thumbs along your cheeks before slowly, slowly, slowly running his hand over your ear, tucking a strand of hair back. His eyes never leave your face, despite the state you know you are in, how awful you must look. 

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I didn't mean to. . . to get so worked up." 

"Don't be stupid," he replies. "Did she really say all that to you?" 

"She's not in her right mind out here. She thinks she's one of you guys, that she can be part of the group just because-" 

"Because she slept with Ares?" 

You laugh, exhausted. "Yes, exactly." 

Leo rolls his eyes, finally letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Honestly, everyone and their grandfather has probably slept with Ares. She's nothing special, and she needs to get that through her head." He pauses. The air crackles. "But - uh - you're, you know, special. Very special."

 You blink, certain you heard him wrong. The words don't really make sense in this context, so you're trying to disentangle them. 

Finally, you crack and say, "What?" 

Leo rubs the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. Over the hill, everything is silent as Half-Bloods sleep, unknowing to the panic attack that has just captured you, unknowing to the magic Leo has just cast to calm you down. 

"I said you're special," he mumbles. "In a good way, I mean. Like, a really good way."

 Your heart thunders. "Thank you?"  

     "You're welcome." He looks at you then, chirping up. "But seriously, don't let her get to you. She's just a love sick psycho who doesn't know when to back down. Clingy ex-girlfriend and all that."

 He changes the topic so swiftly it nearly gives you whiplash. You stare at him for another moment, and just when you're about to open your mouth to continue the previous, deserted conversation, Leo stands and reaches his hand out. "Shall we go before Hedge thinks there's some funny business going on?" 

You nod dumbly, taking his hand only because you don't know what you want to say in response to what he has just said - he called you special, and he said it like it was just. . . normal, like it was something you could slip in without any further questions being asked. 

You try and let the subject drop as Leo leads you back into camp. He walks you to the door of the Ares cabin, and it is there that he turns to you and says, voice low, "You can sleep in my cabin if your mum is in there; Chiron won't mind, and I won't either." 

"No, it's okay," you reply. "Mum's staying in the Big House; I'll just slip in next to Emma." You glance at him, his eyes meeting yours because he never looked away. He looks so sweet beneath the lantern light, flames dancing across his skin like they were always meant to be there, like Leo has lived his life in fire and came out smiling every time. "Thank you, Leo; you really didn't have to help me tonight." 

He scoffs. "Don't be daft. Next time you have any issues, I want you to run to me instead of the river naiads, you hear?" 

You smile and nod. "I hear." 

And so, Leo and you bid each other goodnight, and you watch as he walks across camp, past the Hephaestus cabin, right in the direction of Bunker 9. Half of you wants to go after him, question him on his use of the word special earlier on, but you don't. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and so you turn on your heel and head into the Ares cabin, unable to stop the tiny smile that forms on your face. 

----

 Bunker 9 looks very nice in the morning.

 "Oh, the tin is just glistening!"

 Leo yelps, dropping a spanner on the ground as he whirls around. His overalls are covered in oil, along with his face, arms, legs, and every other body part that is presented to you on this fine Monday morning. In your hand is a plate of steaming cinnamon buns that Leo's eyes immediately fix upon, his startled expression quickly being replaced by one of pure hunger. You're almost certain you see his mouth salivating. 

You tug the plate back, holding one arm out. "Not so fast, Fire Boy." 

He frowns. "What did you just call me?"

 "No cinnamon buns for you until you tell me how many hours of sleep you got last night." 

Leo raises a brow, a tiny smirk making an appearance. "Are you kidding?" 

"Nope. I want the details, Valdez, or these cinnamon buns are all mine." 

"That's really unfair, and very unnecessary. A body like mine was made to work off two hours sleep." 

Your eyes widen. "Two hours? Leo!" 

"Can you just hand me my breakfast already?" 

You groan, but a promise is a promise. You set the plate down on a nearby toolbox before pushing yourself onto the counter, legs swinging. Leo dives for the plate, nudging your knee with his hip as he grabs the first cinnamon bun he can see and stuffs it in his mouth, nearly swallowing the thing whole.

 "Watch you don't choke." 

"Why are you so protective this morning?" 

"Two hours sleep, Leo? That's awful." 

He shrugs, fingers hovering over the plate as he searches for his next victim. "I'm used to it. I'm not even tired! It was a really refreshing two hours."

 "You get worse, you know."

 Leo rolls his eyes, looking up at you. "And how many hours of sleep did you get, Sleeping Beauty?" 

"More than two hours."

He clicks his fingers. "I want the details." 

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. "I had six hours, if you must know. I'm refreshed and ready for my day!"

 "So am I."

 "Liar." 

"And what?" 

You laugh, and Leo smiles, making the noise louder than it really is.

 "But no," he continues. "Don't you go worrying about me, dear. Ol' Leo Valdez can handle himself." 

"Ol' Leo Valdez needs to take a nap."

 "A nap? Sounds cowardly." He grabs the spanner from the floor, spins it in the air, catches it with an ease that makes your breath catch. "How about I show you the new updates I've made to Festus?" 

Festus, Leo's pride and joy, the one thing in the world he will talk about for hours upon hours on end; you've sat there and listened to him every single time, absorbing every word, even if you don't understand it. He talks about circuits and updates and tools you have never heard of, but he says it all with such enthusiasm it's almost impossible not to get involved. And even though you know you should be stubborn, insisting on him getting into bed right this instant, you want to see him in that state again. You always want to see him in that state, eyes glittering with passion, hands moving all over the place, smile brighter than anything. 

He doesn't need an answer. You simply smile at him, slightly exasperated, and he says, "Alright!" before spinning on his heel, the very beginning of his lecture.

 You listen to him talk like how you would listen to lo-fi music. Your legs swing back and forth, back and forth, a tiny smile gracing your features. Leo shows you different parts, illuminating the inside of Festus's new helmet with fire ignited in his calloused palm. It makes his grin impossibly brighter. It makes his curls that little bit darker. It's him.

 Finally, he spins and says, "Cool, right?" and even though you were mildly distracted the entire time, you nod and say, "Very cool. As always."

 "What are you doing here so early, anyway?" He strolls over, casually plucking another cinnamon roll off the plate and taking a bite. 

 "I saw you heading to Bunker 9 last night and just assumed this was where you slept. I thought you said you didn't sleep in here?"

 He shrugs. "I sleep in here when I'm stressed; gets me away from the ruckus of everyone else, you know." 

You raise a brow. "You were stressed?"

 "Of course I was stressed." He looks at you, exasperated. "Do you not remember anything we discussed last night?" 

You blink; it's not that you had forgotten - there's no way you'll be forgetting that night any time soon - but you thought for sure Leo had. Yes, he'd been there to help you through it, and he was the reason you went to bed smiling, but you were still a mortal, and your problems surely could never be as big as his. You genuinely sat in front of him and cried about feeling neglected by your mother when his own mother is dead, and his Dad doesn't even talk to him, too busy producing other godly children. But here he is, head tilted and eyes slashed with worry. You almost want to look away, but the colour in them has become so noticeably entrancing these past few weeks that you find it nearly impossible to do so. 

"I didn't mean to stress you out," is all you can manage. "I was just ranting." 

"You were crying." 

"I was - I mean - like - yeah, I guess, but you don't have to stress." 

Leo narrows his eyes. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

 You open your mouth, ready to chastise him for saying such a thing, but your words are swallowed by the loud clang clang clang of the door opening. Leo stares at you for a second longer before glancing over his shoulder, sharing your shock at the sight of Will popping his head in the door. His lower lip is pulled between his teeth, movements slow and timid. 

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he says. "But we kind of need Y/N up at camp."

 Those words are terrifying. They jolt you and Leo into action almost immediately; you slip off the counter, stumbling over a few discarded wrenches and old toolboxes. Leo catches you before you can fall, but neither of you comment on your suddenly linked hands before following Will out the door, curiosity getting the better of you. 

You hear the commotion before you see it. 

The sound of your mothers shrill voice is all-too familiar, and it echoes now. Bouncing off trees, sinking into the dirt, giving you a blistering headache that immediately makes you want to turn around and pretend you never heard it. But there's a crowd, an ocean of demigods, all with weapons and angry expressions trained on the woman who raised you - the woman who tried raising you - and despite the anger you once felt towards her, you pick up your pace, rush into the scene and say, "Ay! Get that spear out of my face!" 

The demigod - you don't even know who she is - stumbles back, gaping at you. You don't give her the time of day, instead pivoting on your heel towards your mother. 

There she is, stood in the middle of the clearing with her arms above her head, screaming up at the sky. Blood coats her elbows and knees. Chiron and Emma are beside her, but it seems like both of them have given up trying to make her see sense; they simply stare, Emma with tears in her eyes, Chiron looking like he's on the verge of booting her out of camp right this instant.

 Leo stumbles to your side and grabs your arm. "What's wrong with her?" 

You touch your mum's arm. "Mum, you're being proper embarrassing right now." 

She spins. Her hair is matted, the product of having not been washed in weeks. Her eyes are dark, lips chapped and bitten, utterly destroyed. You've seen her when she's having one of her episodes, but this is worse. This is the worst you've ever seen it. It breaks your heart, even though it shouldn't. It was only last night she was basically calling you worthless, a mistake, the reason her little affair with a Greek god didn't work out. 

You swallow. "Mum. . . It's me." 

"Emma?" 

 You bite your lip, trying to ignore how much that hurts. "Uh. . . not quite, but nearly. Emma's over there."

 "Don't get me involved in this," Emma spits, roughly swiping a hand across her cheek. "I don't want anything to do with her."

 Your heart judders. Your mother's eyes narrow, like she's taking a little longer to process her first childs words. You decide to step in before she has a chance to. 

"No, Mum, I'm not Emma, I'm Y/N. I'm here to - uh - take you home."

 As soon as you say it, you want to curl in on yourself. It's a truth you've been trying to avoid these past few weeks, the idea of finally breaking away from camp and heading back to your shitty apartment with your shitty mother to live a shitty life of online classes and pretending everything is normal and okay. Behind you, Leo mumbles, "Sorry, what was that?" which hurts your heart even more.  "Yeah," you continue, taking another timid step towards her. A branch cracks beneath your foot, and your mother flinches, looks up into the sky like the sound of a god appearing will be nothing more than a simple crack. 

"Yeah, Mum, we're gonna go home, and you're gonna get some rest, okay? You look exhausted."

 "Exhausted," she mumbles. "Home."

 "Home, yeah. Remember home? We liked it there. Things were normal there."

 Mum's nostrils flare. "Normal-" 

"But our house is also where Ares thinks we are right now!" you barrel on. "He's got our address in his little address book - he doesn't actually know we're at Camp Half-Blood right now."

 Her shoulders deflate, eyes brightening. "Oh. You're right. He's probably visited so many times and we haven't even been there! He's going to be so angry!" 

"So, so angry." You wrap your arm around her shoulder, gently drawing her away from the crowd of angry demigods, of sobbing sisters and confused centaurs. You meet Leo's eyes only once, and it's enough to shatter your being, enough for the burning of tears to erupt through your senses. You want to turn and run to him, tell him you're sorry, promise to never leave him, but the feelings are so extraordinary and so weird, unfamiliar, that you can't. 

You turn your gaze to the floor and guide your mother through the crowd towards the Big House, uttering words about home and comfort, and going back to a life you want to abandon for good. You pretend it's all okay, because that's all you've ever known. 

---- 

Leo finds you that same night. 

You left your mother in Chiron's care. She fell asleep immediately, and you were free to do what you wanted after that, but the thought of parading through Camp Half-Blood after being in the centre of such a weird scene made your stomach curl, so you stayed by her side until you were positive most of the campers were in bed, sleeping.

Except Leo, of course.

 He sits down in the grass, shoulder brushing yours. You don't look over; you know it's him just from the scent of oil, and the way he cracks his knuckles, and the way he awkwardly coughs into the darkness. These are all little things of him you have memorised. Each one makes your heart ache. 

Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks. "You don't have to do all that, you know."

"Do what?" 

"Stick up for her. Make her comfortable.

" You shrug. "I know I don't."

 "So why do you do it?" 

"Because she's my mum."

 "She's barely your mum. She doesn't even do the bare minimum for you." 

True. Painfully, awkwardly true. 

You shrug again. Leo sighs, tilting his head back. When you glance over, you see him gazing up at the stars, jaw clenched in a way that throws off the soft features of his face you have grown so used to seeing. You don't like it. 

You reach over and poke his cheek in an attempt to make him loosen up. He closes his eyes. "I don't get it." 

"What?" 

"Why you have to be the one taking care of her when she's never taken care of you." 

You swallow thickly. "I'm not. . . I'm not taking care of her. I'm just-" 

"Then what was that back there?"

 "That was me trying to make sure my mum didn't get a spear shoved down her throat. It's basic human decency, Leo." 

He purses his lips, like this is something he has never heard of.

 You sigh, slumping back against a tree. "I don't hate my mum, you know; she's done some fucked up stuff to me, but I don't hate her."

 Leo stares at you. His eyes are lazors, flames, beams pouring into the side of your head, and you want to look at him, but you think it would be a very bad idea right now.

 Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, which is a big deal when sitting with someone like Leo Valdez. The only noise filling in the silence is the steady drip of rain drops rolling down the leaves, bouncing against the lakes surface. A few ocean creatures peak their heads up, examine the scene, duck back beneath the water. 

And then, "Are you actually leaving?"

 You bite back a sob. "You didn't expect me to stay here forever, did you?"

 Leo doesn't respond. 

"She's not well here," you continue, tilting your head back. The moon waves at you. The stars smile. "She was bad at home, but being here - around this kind of thing - it's going to drive her insane." 

"She's a grown woman." 

"Ares messed her up." It's the first time you've said it out loud, the truth. Your mother was okay before she met that man. You've heard stories from your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, of the days when your mum was winning medals for her skills in ballet, the days she was getting awards for her academic success, the days where she played mediator in a house full of people who could never see eye-to-eye on anything. You listened to them with only half-interest, because you never fully believed them. You had lived with the crazy side of her for too long by that point.

 But it's true. Ares waltzed into her life, promised her the world, gave her this child with skills beyond human comprehension, gave her a taste of real love for the first time in her life - and then he left. 

 "Why do gods think they can just get away with that?" you find yourself asking before you can stop. "Mess with people's lives like that. Why do they think that's okay?" 

Leo sighs. "They run the world. They can do whatever they want." 

"That seems really unfair." 

"Yeah, well, it's also unfair that you have to give up your own happiness for your mum." 

You close your eyes; there it is again, the topic breached. Leo doesn't understand that this is all you've ever known - caring for her, making sure she's okay, being ignored and neglected because you're not the gods child. He doesn't understand that this has been your life from day one. You were never given a chance to mind it. You were never given a chance to know anything else.

 "You know, I think this place could really benefit with someone like you." 

You look at him. "You're just saying that." 

He shrugs, picking up a pebble and lobbing it at the lake. Always keeping his hands moving, never being still. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just a little desperate for you to stay." He looks at you. "Is that weird?" 

You swallow, unable to respond, because you want to tell him no, no of course it's not weird, please keep talking and I'll stay, I'll stay here with you, I'll never leave, I never wanted to leave in the first place.

 Leo looks down at his hands, fingers fiddling with the threads dangling from his overalls. "Sorry. I - I didn't mean to - like - put you on the spot or anything. I just care about you. A lot. And I hate seeing you upset. It bothers me."

 The way it says it, words spoken through gritted teeth, makes your heart stutter. Oddly, it reminds you of those days spent laughing in Bunker 9, calling him stupid as he tried so hard to keep you amused, like he wanted to keep your attention as firm as possible so you wouldn't get up and leave. For once in your life, someone wants you to stay. 

 And it's sad - heartbreaking, even - that you have been cursed with these circumstances, that the mere notion of staying at Camp Half-Blood is so beyond reality; you're no demigod. Even if your mother were to head home on her own, do you a favour for once, the chances of Chiron being allowed to let you stay are incredibly, incredibly slim. You won't entertain the idea. You won't get your hopes up like that. You won't play to your own feelings, because that has never done anything for you, nothing but leave you in a state of despair.

 And so, you keep quiet, staring out over the lake with Leo by your side, his hands working, his mind probably racing, your heart a steady thump in the distance. 

--- 

The next day, you are ready to leave.

 You packed all your things the night before. You said all your goodbyes the night before. You and Emma got into a brutal argument the night before, and now you're stood before her, trembling from head to toe as you patiently wait for Chiron to lead your mother to Thalia's pine tree so the both of you can finally be let go. 

Emma stares at you. She's been doing that since last night, her hands balled into fists, jaw strong, so she looks a little bit like her father; you can say that now. You hate him. You think you'd punch him in the face if you ever saw him. 

"I can't believe you're actually doing this for her."

 "I never understood why you hate her so much - you're the one she actually cares about." 

Emma grits her teeth, looking to the ground in that way she so often does when she's trying not to punch you square in the face. "That's not the point."

 "You don't even deny it any more," you scoff. "You've just come to terms with the fact that she basically worships the ground you walk on. How about you start understanding how lucky you are rather than giving me grief for taking care of her?" 

"Taking care of her?" Emma bursts. "She's your mother! She should be taking care of you!" 

"Right, but that's not the way things have turned out, so we might as well cut the shit now before-" 

"Leo spoke to me, you know." You freeze. Your mouth stays open, eyes widening; Leo is the absolute last thing you want to talk about right now, not after last night, not after hearing the hint of heartbreak in his voice when he realised it was too late, you were too far gone, there was no keeping you. 

Emma nods, even though you haven't said anything, even though you can do nothing but stare at her in complete shock and bewilderment. "Yeah, Leo Valdez, the boy you're head over heels in love with." 

You splutter. "What?"

 "Oh, don't play dumb! I've seen the way you are with each other. I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you, and for fuck sake Y/N, you shouldn't have to give all that up for someone like her!" 

"That person you're on about is our mother!"

 "And what? That means you have to put your entire life on hold for her?" Emma drops her sword in a move close to desperation, startling you when she barrels forward and grabs your shoulders. She holds you at arms length, eyes like fire. "You're my only little sibling, Y/N; it's my job more than anything else to look after you, and I'm not going to sit back and let your selflessness ruin your whole life." 

You blink, and only then do the tears make an appearance. You think of Leo, even though you hate it, even though you've already said your goodbyes to him and you should just leave it at that. He hugged you, and you hugged him, and you apologised and he told you there was nothing to be sorry for - it was the perfect potential ending, but you don't want it to be over.

 Emma is right; you're jeopardising your own happiness for this woman. 

Emma stares at you, the tears leaking from your eyes. Her own lower lip trembles, but she's Emma, so she won't start crying. Not properly.

 You inhale shakily, ducking your head down. "I can't let her go home on her own, Em. She'll never make it. She'll never agree to go if she doesn't have someone with her." 

"So I'll go."

 You freeze. "What?" 

Emma tilts her head forward, catching your eye. "I said, I'll go. I'll take her home, get her settled, and then I'll get someone to come take care of her - a professional. Someone who should have been there for her a long bloody time ago. You can stay here for a while." 

Your heart thunders. You're certain you've heard her wrong, because this isn't right - none of this is right. Emma's the demigod. She should be the one staying here whilst you get shipped off back home with your mother. That's how things have always been, how things were always meant to be. But when you look back at your older sister now, there is no glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she's being serious, more serious than you've ever seen her before.

 She squeezes your shoulders, curling her stubby nails into the fabric of your hoodie. "I mean it, Y/N. If you want to stay here-" 

"I do," you croak out. "I really, really do." 

"For Leo?" 

You blink. 

Emma grins. "For Leo." She pats your shoulder, nearly knocking you off your feet. "Go, before her and Chiron make an appearance. I think Valdez is-"

 But you don't let her finish. You know where Leo is even without her input, and so you throw yourself into her arms, squeal a thank you in her ear before sprinting off down the hill towards Bunker 9. 

The gods should be yelling at you right now, casting lightning and rain and every other deadly element down upon you, because this must be so far out of the rule book. This must be going entirely against everything they have ever set up, every rule they have laid out - a mortal in one of their demigod camps? A mortal hanging around their children like their even close to being equal. Complete blasphemy.

 But you don't care. Not when you round the corner to see the door to Bunker 9 already wide open, little flashes of Leo Valdez skimming past the entryway. 

You pause in the trees, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of what he is doing, and it is only then do you see the spanner smash against one of the windows. The glass doesn't shatter, but it shakes and it makes a loud noise, and it's followed closely by Leo yelling out a curse that would get him blown to smithereens if his father were to hear it. 

You sprint towards the door. "Leo?" 

He spins around, eyes widening. He grips his hand, blood seeping from one of his fingers, dribbling down his wrist and landing upon his boots. He doesn't seem to care, though, simply staring at you in shock. 

And then, "Y/N?" 

You throw yourself forward, grabbing his wrist. The blood from his gets caught beneath your fingers, but you don't care. You stare at it, shaking your head, whispering his name over and over, and all he can do is stare at you, dumbfounded, before he exclaims, "Hey, wait!" and stumbles back, yanking his hand from your grip in the process.

 "Leo, let me have a look at that-" 

"You shouldn't be here right now!"

 "Okay, Leo, yes, we'll discuss that later, but please, let me look at your hand. What the hell did you even do?" 

 You reach for him, but he's like a wild animal, startled and afraid. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a toolbox discarded on the floor. You notice the mess that wasn't there this morning, the tools laying everywhere, sheets of torn paper thrown left, right and centre, broken glass littering the hard floor.

 "Jesus, Leo," you gasp. "What have you been doing in here?"

 "Why are you back? Why aren't you away yet?"

 You lift your gaze, narrowing your eyes. "If you want me to go, you can just say so." And right now, looking at the scene around you and the state of Leo's hand, and his startled expression, you don't even feel bad that he very well might just ask you to turn and leave. Your mind is preoccupied, wanting nothing more than to grab him and force him to shut up so you can pay some attention to the gaping wound on the tip of his finger. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He's staring at you, unable to move, small of his back pressed against the workbench. The blood welling in his fingertip looks to only be getting worse. 

"Leo," you say softly. "Please, can we talk about this later?" 

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't run away when you take a step towards him, either. His eyes never leave your own as you reach for his hand and pull him towards a chair in the corner, slowly pushing him into it. You softly ask him to reach into that magic toolbelt of his to pull out some medical supplies, and he does so with trembling hands, never saying a word, never really needing to.

 You get to work in silence, trying to ignore the thumping of your own heart, the tremble of your own hands, the desperate need you have to just apologise over and over and over for scaring him so bad, for startling him to the point where he can't even form a full sentence, to the point where he was willing to run away from you. 

You clean the wound and bandage it the best way you can, remembering all those times as a child when you would cut yourself by accident and your mum would be too dazed or too neglectful to take you to the hospital or do anything about it herself. 

Leo watches your hands working wonders until it's all finally complete and you step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin on your face. "Not too shabby." 

Leo swallows. Finally you take the time to look at him, his pale face and startled eyes; he looks like he's on the verge of tears, which really isn't the reaction you were hoping to receive when you walked back into Bunker 9.

 You fold your arms over your chest, nibbling your bottom lip as you say, "I'm staying."

 Leo exhales shakily. "I don't get it. Last night you were so adamant-"

 "I know. I know I was, but I never wanted to go in the first place."

 "So why-" 

"Emma made me realise some things." You push yourself onto the workbench behind you, the very same spot you always found yourself sitting when Leo is working away on one of his projects. You used to sit with your legs pulled beneath you, watching him work in silence. 

 He stares at you. "I fully prepared myself to never see you again." 

You wince. "I'm sorry."

 And then he's scrambling out of his chair, stumbling between your legs, grabbing your hands, tugging them into his chest, all in that order. You gasp at the touch, the rough fabric of his plaster rubbing against your wrist, the forever warm touch of his skin so familiar yet you crave it so badly. 

He's shaking his head, mumbling "No," on repeat beneath his breath

. "Leo. . ." 

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he says. "So don't apologise to me again, alright? I don't want it. I don't need it - all that matters now is that you're here, and you - you said you're staying." He looks up, almost timid. "Did I hear that right?" 

You nod, dazed; he's not mad. He's happy. He's smiling, and his eyes are doing that thing again where they glint and they crease into crescents, and he looks so cute, so happy, so like the Leo you've come to know and love so deeply. It makes your heart stutter. It makes  this entire thing so, so worth it. 

He grins. "Oh gods, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me. I nearly tore this place to the ground-" 

"I can see that," you croak. 

He winces, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to - It was honestly an accident, but-" 

"It's okay, Leo." His head snaps back round. 

"It's okay?"

 "It's all okay." 

You reach forward, winding your arm around his neck, dragging him closer. His curls flood through your fingers, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second before he opens them again and says, "Can I kiss you?"

 You nod, because of course he can. He does just that, pressing his lips to yours delicately, so, so delicately, like he's afraid you'll shatter. His hands are tender on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle, mindless circles into the fabric of your shirt, and it's all so slow, all so gentle, but your heart is exploding into constellations, sprinkling over your being in a way you have never experienced before.

 For someone who is never still, never calm, never quiet, his kisses are like a warm summer afternoon spent wading along a beach. They are aquamarine waters and birds chirping around a morning sunrise. They are everything and nothing and more than enough but never enough all in the same breath.

 He pulls away first, uncertain, glancing nervously into your eyes as he slowly releases you. He takes a steady step back, rubbing the back of his neck, and it takes everything in you not to pull him back in. 

Instead you laugh, swinging your legs back and forth like a giddy child. "Don't look so sheepish or I'll think you've poisoned me." 

"I'm not very good at that," he mumbles. "Machines don't usually need kissed, so I don't tend to do it that often." 

"I'd hope not." You grab his hand, pulling him back between your knees. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier." 

He opens his mouth, ready to protest your apologies once again, but you cut him off with five fingertips pressed to his lips. His eyes cross over as he glares at them, making you giggle. "I know you said I shouldn't apologise, but I shouldn't have been so. . . hasty. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I should have let you speak-"

 "I don't say very interesting things."

 "You say the most interesting things." You drop your hand, intertwine your fingers with his. "But I'm staying, Leo. I promise." He exhales shakily, like this is what he has been waiting to hear for a while now; it breaks your heart, rejuvenates you at the same time, and you realise suddenly just how awful it would have been to pack up your stuff and head home, to live a life without Leo Valdez in it. 

---

 Your mother looks a little better. A little healthier. A little happier.

 Emma sits beside her, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a denim jacket over the top. She looks happy, too, a little exhausted, but you never expected anything less. She's still smiling, though, and when her face appears in the Iris message, she lets out a happy sigh of relief.

 "I thought you two would fuck it up." 

"Go to hell, Emma," says Leo.

 You chuckle, leaning back in your seat; it's been two weeks since Mum and Emma went back to the flat together, two weeks since you agreed to spend the rest of your summer at Camp Half-Blood, working on a relationship with Leo Valdez. It's been a grand two weeks, yes, but you still have responsibilities back in the real world.

 "So, how's it going?" you ask. "Mum, you're still going to therapy, aren't you?" 

"Yes," Mum mumbles, sounding more like an anguished teenager than anything else. "I've told you both already, I don't need it - I got over Ares years ago. I have my own family now - he can go to hell." 

"Tartarus," Leo corrects. 

"Whatever."

 You grin. It's been so long - so long - since you've heard your mum mention you in the same context as Emma, including your name in the same sentence as the word family. Leo must notice your sudden shift in mood, as he chuckles, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back. He does that sometimes, letting you know he's there, like you'd ever forget. You reach behind you and tangle your fingers with his, subtly placing your joined hands in your lap.

 "A few more weeks," you tell her. "That's all you have to endure, and then they're putting you on that trial, aren't they?" 

"Apparently," Mum replies. "I was thinking of coming to visit you." 

You and Emma share a look - the last time your mother was at Camp Half-Blood, things didn't exactly go well. The energy of this place drove her insane, reminded her of days with Ares, reminded her she'd been abandoned by the one man she ever loved. 

Leo cuts in. "Oh, no! I was hoping Y/N and I could come out there and visit you guys for the week!"

 Your head whips round. "You were?"

 "Well, yeah." Leo rolls his eyes, faux exasperation. "I did tell you about it. I haven't been back to your house since the giant threw that boulder through your window." He rubs his finger along your scarred, damaged knuckles, forever torn from the boulder that destroyed all your nerve endings. "I think it would be a grand old time, personally." 

"I agree," Emma chimes in. "And it would be less stressful for us - we can just wait here for them to arrive, and you still get to see Y/N!"

 Mum hums, thoughtful, and for just a second, you're certain she's going to revert back to her old ways. She's going to call you scum, pretend you don't exist, make you feel like shit all over again; judging by the sudden grip Leo has on your hand, he thinks the exact same thing. You thought this was over with. You thought your Mum had gotten better, that she finally realised you are her child, too, and-

 "I guess it would be a lot less hassle."

 Leo exhales. "Great! It's a date." 

"For you two, maybe," Emma grumbles. "Look, we have to leave in two minutes, so this is goodbye."

 "Jeez, Em, tell us how you really feel."

 "See you in a few weeks, assholes!" And before you or Leo can respond, the Iris message is flickering to a close, leaving you and Leo alone in Bunker 9. 

It's silent for a few seconds. Leo grips your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles, and it suddenly feels so, so hard not to cry. 

"She's getting so much better," you choke out. 

Leo's head snaps round, eyes widening at the crack in your voice. "Hey, no. Don't you start crying on me, okay? This is a good thing! Good!" He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. He has that goofy look, his eyebrows stitched together, his lips pursed; it makes you laugh every time.

 You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists just to keep the feel of him against you for a little longer. "I'm not going to cry. I'm not a bitch." 

"It's all good here, Y/N," he says. "I always told you it's all good here." 

And with his hands on your face, his eyes gazing into your own, the sweet weather of Camp Half-Blood flourishing outside, you know he's telling the truth. It's all good. 

[stxrshxpxd]

a gra fic! :)

*

Pairing: 2010s graham coxon x reader

Word count: 2.383

Warnings: smut, age gap (45ish/20ish)

Requested by anon x

(ok so i didnt really know how to premise this but i decided to make it like an au where hes not famous and hes just a guitar teacher, to avoid any dodgy family friend relations or whatever for the ppl that feel uncomfortable with that heh (bc famous gra probably wouldn’t be teaching guitar to someone whos not already a friend in some way, if he was still a famous successful musician, you know???)) anyway enjoy this very very unrealistic fic x

* * *

“Try that for me,” Graham asked in his usual small voice. He was sitting across from me - his knees almost touching mine - with an electric guitar resting on his thigh. I was holding one as well and desperately trying to focus on what his hands were playing, rather than the details of the veiny pattern on the back of them.

“Uh,” I mumbled and tried to place my fingers like he had placed his on the strings, but quickly getting confused. I had been taking guitar lessons with Graham for a few months and it was getting harder and harder to push away the inappropriate thoughts.

I had never really had a crush on a teacher before, but of course a guitar tutor would conjure up those feelings in me. Musicians really are a whole different breed.

“Like this,” Graham helped and moved my fingers to the right strings. He was leaned in closer to me and I could feel my heart beating harder behind my ribs.

“Ah, sorry,” I apologised for my inability to pick up such a simple pattern. I caught a second of eye contact with Graham before turning my head down to hide my hot cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be,” he said with a cute concerned tone in his voice. “That’s why you’re here, to learn.”

I nodded and desperately continued to try chasing my inappropriate thoughts away. I played the chord progression almost flawlessly, and mentally beat myself up for the small errors I did. I hated failing in front of Graham. He was one of the sweetest and understanding people I’d ever met but he still intimidated me because when he played guitar he was a completely different person. I just needed his approval so bad.

“Good,” he mumbled and nodded his head. I looked up at his face again. His glasses had slid a bit further down his nose and his dark fringe laid messily across his forehead.

“Y/N.. Is there something wrong?” Graham asked after a short moment of silence and me getting a bit lost in his dark brown eyes.

“What?” I asked back and shifted in my seat. The awkward tension grew between us and Graham stared back at me with a puzzled expression and a small confused smile on his lips.

“You seem distracted,” he explained.

A war broke out in my head. One part of me wanted to just spit it out and admit to being extremely attracted to him, and another wanted me to shut up and stop acting so odd and pathetic. I settled for a stiff shrug of my right shoulder and an increased heartbeat.

“You’re probably not gonna learn much if you’re thinking about something else… Has something happened?” Graham asked. Concern had completely taken over his voice now and he was still leaned in close to me. It made my chest tighten with infatuation for him and the way he was genuinely worried about me.

“No, I’m just.. thinking,” I shrugged again and looked down on our knees that were even closer to touching now. 

“About?”

I could tell was being as careful as he possibly could and he really didn’t want to put any pressure on me. And he didn’t. All the pressure that was on me I put on myself. At last the impulsive side of me won and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Your hands.”

Graham was taken aback a bit and laughed nervously. He leaned back again and I felt like throwing up. Why did I have to be so stupid?

“What about them?” he chuckled.

I had already dug myself a hole that was impossible to get out of, might as well keep digging.

“They’re, uh.. attractive,” I mumbled and swallowed nervously. I couldn’t think of a single adjective that felt appropriate to use. It felt like I was sweating from every pore and there wasn’t a single cell in my body in which I felt sexy or like I was capable of seducing this forty-something year old man.

“Attractive?” He asked and sent the ball right back to my court. To be fair, I was the one who had started this whole thing. I deserved to feel this uncomfortable.

“Yeah, like.. I-want-them-on-my-body attractive. That sort of thing,” I kept digging my hole and Graham’s cheeks were now getting a bit red too.

He stared at me in silence for four seconds. I counted them carefully and slower than normal, so it was probably even longer in reality. He then looked down for another few prolonged seconds. I began lining up all the curse words I knew in my head and threw them at myself.

“Okay,” Graham said quietly as he slowly looked up again. He was still hugging the guitar and his hand tightly clasped the neck of it, rather nervously.

“Well,” he continued uttering words, but not forming a sentence that carried any of this agony forward or backward or in any direction really. I couldn’t speak because I knew whatever I said I would make everything worse.

“Would you like to do something about it?” he asked cautiously and suddenly took a giant leap in the conversation. His head was tilted downwards slightly but he was looking me in the eye as my stomach turned over with nerves. I knew I should’ve said no and he knew he shouldn’t have asked that but here we were and I couldn’t think of any other answer but yes.

“Yeah,” I answered in a weak mumble.

Graham reached out to put the guitar back in its stand and I figured this was one of those times when actions speak louder than words. I did the same and sat back again with my clammy palms resting on my thighs. Graham had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he reached his hand out. He touched my leg gently with his fingertips and lifted my hand from my thigh. The notion that all this was highly inappropriate was forgotten as soon as he loosely held my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for the last ten minutes.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. Graham held my one hand a bit tighter and reached out for the other one. I took it as a sign and took a giant metaphorical leap of my own. I stood up on wobbly legs and clumsily straddled his lap. He was wearing a pair of loose fitting blue jeans and I was wearing a pair of tight black ones. Even with all this fabric separating us, I could feel Graham harden a bit under me as I slowly grinded my hips back and forth a couple times. His hands let go of mine and immediately held my face, making me look into his eyes.

“Tell me if it’s weird,” he whispered. I could’ve sworn his lips were already touching mine - with the way I could taste his breath - but I soon realised they weren’t. I wanted them to be.

“You tell me,” I said with a nervous laughter. “I started this,” I joked and looked away from his eye contact. I was caught in a feeling more conflicting than I had ever felt before. Half of me wanted to tear every part of clothing from our bodies, while the other half was terrified and wanted to run away and never have to expose my body to Graham. The thought that he was old enough to be my father crossed my mind fleetingly and I was turned off for a minute, but at the same time I couldn’t keep from kissing him for much longer.

Graham’s hands were calmly resting on my hips now. I pressed my sweaty palms against his soft stomach under his shirt and watched his gaze fall to eye me up and down - or down and up, rather. He helped by raising his arms and I pulled his striped t-shirt off. I threw a glance at the, closed but not locked, door. We had about fifteen minutes left of the lesson, but I knew there was still a risk of another tutor or student walking in at any second. It made me more nervous and more excited.

I realised I would have to step down from his lap to take my jeans off. Now when I had finally gotten it I never wanted to break my contact with his body. I stood up hastily and struggled to get my tight jeans off. I then tore my hoodie off and felt completely naked. I was still wearing my pair of mismatched, yet oddly flattering, bra and pants as I stood frozen to the ground and allowed myself to stare at Graham’s bare torso. He looked even more handsome without a shirt than I could’ve ever imagined. His shoulders were broader than his waist and his stomach looked smooth and warm with a few soft hairs around his belly button and his chest.

“Help me out of these,” Graham suggested and both our gazes fell to his crotch. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the bulge inside his jeans.

I nodded and kneeled down in front of him, placing my hands on his firm thighs. I could see a modest grin begin to form on his lips. He was clearly enjoying the sight of me on my knees in front of him. As my breathing picked up, I undid his jeans and pulled them all the way off his legs as he stood up to help. My hands were back on his thighs as he sat down again and I let one of them wander up to cup his prominent bulge outside of his underwear. A quiet moan fell from his lips. There was something raspy in his otherwise soft and gentle voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” Graham mumbled, the newfound rasp still apparent in his voice.

“Thank you,” I breathed shyly and kept rubbing his erection for a few more intense seconds before I decided I needed him inside me.

I stood up again and Graham pulled his pants down to the middle of his thighs. I didn’t mean to sound so defeated or in absolute awe - even though I was - but I exhaled sharply at the sight of a nude Graham with his hard cock in his hand. My reversed gasp made him smirk again. It looked out of place on his face but I liked it.

“Come here,” he mumbled softly and leaned in to give my stomach a few wet kisses as his large hands held my waist. His grip around me was just as gentle yet firm as his grip around his guitar.

He pulled me onto his lap again and kissed up my body, until our lips finally connected. Graham pulled my underwear to the side and my whole body twitched lightly as I grinded my clit against his length. He dropped a mumbling comment about how wet I was and I giggled nervously. I refused to believe I had made him this hard.

“Do I make you this hard?” I asked. I realised right away that it was a stupid question to ask.

“Yes, clearly,” Graham chuckled. There was a bit of struggle in his voice again as he was just about fed up with my slow teasing hip movements.

Graham held my hip as he finally guided the tip towards my entrance. I sank down slowly as his size stretched my walls out and made them ache. A few whispers fell from my mouth and I could feel him watching me. I opened my eyes and looked into his. They were large and round and just as dark and beautiful as always. I kissed him again and we both moaned quietly into the kiss. Graham’s left hand was still on my hip and his right was gently cupping my  breast. I was still wearing my bra but he pulled it down slightly and moved his lips from mine down to my nipple.

“Do you mind if I leave some marks?” he asked and kissed around my nipple softly as he waited for me to answer.

“Not at all,” I breathed. 

I had fully adjusted to his size and rode him faster and faster as I came closer to my climax. Graham sank his teeth into the skin on my chest and sucked hard on it. It prompted an even louder moan from me and even made Graham hush me as he laughed quietly. It was a smug laugh.

With the wonderful pain from his teeth sinking into my skin and his cock as deep as it could go inside me, it wasn’t long before the orgasm built up inside me. It came quickly and almost caught me off guard when it washed over me, contorting my whole body and making me exhaustedly fall down with my forehead pressed against his shoulder. Graham held both my hips now and thrusted a few more times before he pulled out suddenly and came all over his hand and thigh. Seeing his veiny hand all covered in his own cum and hearing his heavy breaths almost made me want to go for another round right away but I contained myself and backed away from him. 

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I buttoned my jeans and pulled my hoodie over my head. Graham had found some tissues to wipe his hand with and was standing faced away from me. His back was broad and beautiful and I wanted to kiss every inch of it.

“Well, I’ll.. see you next week then,” I said awkwardly and Graham turned around. The apples of his cheeks were still tinted pink and I could imagine mine were as well. He laughed lightly and walked back up to me. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and smiled.

“Yeah..”

I grabbed my stuff and awkwardly waddled out of the room with sweaty palms and a small grin that was untameable. My skin was still burning with the feeling of his teeth and lips on it. I knew there were already bruises and marks all over my chest and neck.

***

❤️❤️❤️

[shroomcult]

@soulxmakaweek

Got a little carried away with this one, so I’m posting it a bit later in the day. If people enjoy it, I’ll likely write a part two for this. I got some ideas rattling around in my head for some fluff to soothe the angst - just want to focus on trying to finish the rest of the prompts first. Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Day 3: Protect

It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out mission. The Kishin egg that had been terrorizing a small mountain town in Kazakhstan was at a relatively low threat level due to the small number of souls it had consumed. 

It was once known by friends and family by the name of Erasyl when it was a human - a large, mild-mannered and hard-working man who often kept to himself. No one could understand what had caused him to go down the path that he did, but after consuming the souls of six innocent people over the course of a few months, Erasyl no longer resembled anything close to a human. 

One of the creature’s massive arms came swinging at Maka’s unprotected side, flinging her body several feet in the air and smashing through what was left of a window and out into the blustery night air.

She was somewhat relieved to take the battle outside of the cramped quarters of the dilapidated sawmill building they had been fighting in. The lumber yard was something of an obstacle course strewn with old, rusted equipment she’d have to be careful to avoid tripping over, but at least she had more room to move about.

She wasn’t too enthused about the way she had landed jarringly on her left shoulder, though. That was sure to hurt in the morning.

“Dammit, Maka! Don’t stay in swingin’ range of that thing for too long. Strike, and move back!” Soul’s tinny voice vibrated in her hands.

Maybe she had lingered in close quarters of her opponent for a little too long, but she was becoming worn-out from the unexpected length of the battle and a little tired of her partner’s unsolicited coaching. 

“It has four arms for death’s sake! It’s hard to dodge every time, okay?!”

“Just be careful, that’s all I’m sayin’. Your frustration is makin’ you reckless,'' he growled. “Head’s up, Big Ugly is comin’ our way,” he added before she had a chance to continue their banter.

She was back on her feet right as it smashed out the remaining bits of glass from the gaping opening of the window and swiftly climbed over the sill. The hand that had been gripping the side of the building had spread a thick layer of ice across the surface, vapor rising from its fingertips. She took quite a few steps back, bringing herself closer to the tree-line of the woods and putting strategic distance between herself and her enemy.

“Hey, you saw that, right? Didn’t think your average Kishin egg would have elemental manipulation powers. Stinks of magic intervention, I’d say.”  

“Yeah, I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she replied between breaths.

A Kishin egg with such a low kill-count shouldn’t have been this difficult to defeat. It was uncharacteristically cautious and surprisingly nimble for its imposing size. Now with the discovery of its freezing abilities, she was fearing the possibility of witch involvement. They didn’t have the necessary back-up to be in a situation like that. 

She startled at realization that she had no idea what ice powers could do to Soul’s weapon form. It had even attempted to grab him from her multiple times. She would have to be more careful to avoid letting it touch her weapon. 

The troll-like monster only took a few ground-tremoring steps before it halted, still quite a bit of feet away from her. Its eyes were pure white making it impossible to truly identify where its gaze was held, but it craned its neck to the side, ears twitching, searching for something. She got the distinct feeling that it was staring at something out in the dense forest that surrounded them. It was deathly still. What the hell is it doing?

For some inexplicable reason, the temperature sharply dropped and a chill that had nothing to do with the sudden cold ran through her entire body. It was so quiet, even the harsh winds around them had stilled completely. 

“Maka, something is in the woods-”

In the blink of an eye, the beast in front of them lunged forward, dropping to the ground to sprint at her with the use of all of its arms. The air around them began to whip about violently.

She dashed to the left with every ounce of strength she could push into her legs, desperately trying to find some kind of cover - anything to become an obstacle between her and that thing if only for a couple moments. She needed to buy time, think up some kind of advantage that could bring her close enough to it without putting Soul in danger as well.

The sooner they took this bastard down, the sooner they could confront whatever the hell it was that was out there waiting for them.

She dove behind a rusted old flatbed full of lumber, but her enemy was quick on its feet as well and practically materialized in front of her. She swung her scythe in a smooth arc towards its abdomen, causing it to leap to the side reflexively, but not before throwing two of its arms forward.

She ducked down, but soon felt her stomach sink at the realization that it hadn’t been aiming for her at all. 

A chain snapped loudly behind her and all of the thick logs that had been held in place on the truck lurched forward from the force of the strike and began tumbling towards her.

She was agile enough to roll to her side, keeping Soul’s handle tucked against her stomach - but the Kishin egg didn’t allow her the opportunity to properly evade. 

It smacked one of the falling logs with two of its arms, launching it towards the direction she had flung herself in. While she was able to avoid having her head and torso crushed, it had landed on one of her legs that had outstretched in an attempt to give her an extra push away from hazard.

Searing pain immediately shocked her system and a raw shriek ripped from her throat as she was pinned between the log and the front wheel of the truck. 

The beast lurched forward, and she could only watch with wide and teary eyes as she saw a flash of light and the telltale sound of Soul shifting from steel to flesh and bone.

“Soul, don’t!” she cried despite knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

He met the fearsome creature no more than a foot in front of her, blades sprouting forth from all over his body. He had successfully impaled and immobilized the creature’s bottom two arms with the blades poking out of his shoulders, another larger blade sticking from his chest was embedded fatally in its abdomen. His arms were outstretched and grappling with the beast’s two remaining arms, keeping its broad wrists in a vice grip. 

Maka took this time to brace herself with elbows digging into the ground as she used a free arm and leg to attempt to roll the log off of her. Thankfully, the log’s state of decay made it somewhat lighter and easier to move, but the blinding pain of it rolling over her already broken shin and off her foot was almost unbearable, causing her to bite down on a scream. She grabbed onto the wheel of the truck for support and made to stand, but the moment her punished leg made slight contact with the ground, she was down on one knee and holding back a sob. 

She couldn’t even stand and walk, what could she even do to help him? 

He was visibly shaking with the tremendous effort it took to hold the giant brute at bay, and one of its hands was getting dangerously close to his throat. Smokey frost was budding from it’s open palm.

 His heels were dug firmly in the dirt, but it pushed him back until he was nearly bumping up against the log she had just pushed herself out from.

It took a considerable amount of energy for him to even maintain this many external blades at a time, but somehow he pushed himself to manifest two more scythes from his trembling arms that sliced through the Kishin egg’s remaining appendages. 

The large hand that had been desperately grasping for his throat had icicles hanging off of it, and the blood that had been leaking from its wounds had begun to freeze in place. 

Its left arm was dematerializing, breaking down into ribbons of black matter that shortly vanished into air. It was dying, but so slowly. 

At this realization, the beast seemed to gain a final burst of energy from its rage. Its jaw unhinged and it let loose a bellowing roar, saliva flinging in all directions. Soul responded with a rasping animalistic shout that likely scraped his throat raw as he bared fangs of his own.

It suddenly jolted against him, sending him backwards in surprise. He bent his knees slightly to avoid tripping over the log behind him and his back slammed into the front cabin of the truck, denting it with the sheer force. 

Only the one arm fully remained, but it strained against him, outstretched razor-sharp claws finally making contact with the vulnerable skin of his throat, digging in. 

Soul howled in pain, planting both of his hands against its chest and shoving with all the strength he could muster to send the beast stumbling backwards. 

Its jaws were gaping open, eyes bulging out of its swollen head, but no sound came out. It dissolved into fleeting inky blackness and vanished before it even had the chance to hit the ground. The glowing red, scaly orb of its soul remained suspended in the air.

Soul only stood there swaying slightly, gulping in breath after shuddering breath before falling to his knees with a thud that brought a cloud of dust from the ground.

“Soul!” she screeched, ignoring the agony that lit up every nerve in her leg as she dragged herself towards his limp body. She caught the back of his head with her hands the moment he collapsed onto his back. The gashes in his throat were brutally deep and blood was welling up, trickling down his neck and soaking his shirt at an alarming speed. 

His breathing sounded wet and labored, and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he weakly croaked out her name.

She was removing both of her gloves, placing them against the wound and pressing down in an attempt to staunch the blood flow. One hand held the quickly reddening cloth against his neck while the other stroked his face.

“Don’t say anything else, Soul. Please , please stay with me - you’re going to be okay. W-we’re going to get help, just don’t leave me,” she pleaded, choking on a sob.

He kept his mouth shut, jaw trembling from involuntarily clenching it too hard. His pale brows knit together and his eyes were shining with an emotion that he didn’t have the ability to vocalize. He brought a shaking hand towards her face, so gentle as he tried to brush the tears from hers eyes to no avail as new ones only took their place. 

He offered her a tight, apologetic smile. He was blinking sluggishly, the erratic puffs of breath coming from his nose were slowing down, evening out. His hand fell from her face to rest at his side. His eyes finally closed.

Maka’s breathing became frantic and a low wail squeezed out of her tightly clenched throat. The blood had already soaked through both of her gloves and she hastily ripped her coat off to help press against the wounds. 

She hadn’t even registered that the winds had stopped again. The air was frigid and her breath formed in thick white puffs in front of her.

She hadn’t dared remove her hands from Soul’s wound, refusing to give up on providing him medical aid. She kept her body close to her weapon, but she looked up when she sensed the presence of another soul emerging from the darkness of the forest. A powerful soul - a witch.

She’d obviously been using soul protect; playing spectator to their battle - but she was done hiding now.

In short time, the witch stepped out from the cover of shadows that the trees once provided her. Barefoot and clad only in a simple white gown, she took silent steps closer and closer to Maka. Frost covered the ground wherever her feet met it. 

Her eyes, much like the beast, were entirely white and she had no eyelids to cover them. She was a tall, gaunt woman with a wild mane of black hair that seemed to float eerily behind her. Despite the freezing temperatures surrounding her, fireflies flew around her head like a glowing crown. 

“Get the fuck away from him,” Maka snarled like a cornered animal, clutching Soul close to her chest. 

The strange witch stopped short only a foot away from her. Something was so unsettling, so otherworldly about her presence. 

When she spoke, her voice was ethereal like it was no more than a wisp of wind, so soft yet carrying itself in all directions. She spoke a language that Maka couldn’t understand.

“Please,” Maka whimpered, “Please, do whatever you want with me. Just, let me get him help. Let my Soul live - take me and let him live, I’m begging you.”

The witch regarded her with that same unreadable expression. There was no malice that could be found in her face, but she hadn’t felt kindness present either.

She crouched down to level herself with Maka, and spoke again, but this time in words that she could understand. “You have taken my protector from me. Now, your protector is being taken from you. If the universe wills it, you shall be alone - as I am now alone. We are sisters in this same loss.”

The witch’s gentle words chilled her to her core. She looked up pleadingly into the milky voids of her eyes.

“No - he doesn’t have to be taken from me. He could still live, he’s still breathing. Please.”

The witch nodded once, “Perhaps so. If he does not die today, he shall die another. As it is your nature to seek out battles, it is his nature to protect you from them. His death will not be a peaceful one - this I can promise you. It is not in my hands.”

His pulse was weak, and she could barely feel any air coming from his nose anymore. Time was being wasted on this conversation.

Maka shakily pulled out their portable mirror from Soul’s front pocket, breathing against the glass and smudging the proper number to contact Kid. A trauma team could still be sent in time. She didn’t have to lose Soul despite any cryptic bullshit this woman was espousing. 

“Maka? Is your mission completed?” Kid’s voice rang out from the mirror, but she didn’t bother looking at him - or the witch. She kept her eyes on Soul’s face, fingers buried in his hair and stroking his cheek with her thumb. 

“I need a trauma team sent out to my location immediately. Soul’s been wounded, and he’s lost a lot of blood. Please hurry,” she mumbled numbly, still refusing to look away from her weapon.

“What?! What’s happened-” he was cut off when she snapped the portable mirror shut. 

She leaned down to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger there.

“You hear that, Soul? We’re getting out of here. I’m not losing you tonight, so don’t you dare let go before they get here,” she whispered against his skin, fresh tears beginning to roll down her cheek.

When she finally looked up, the witch was gone along with the corrupted soul. 

 The wind was blowing again.

[cheyentjj]

Carnival

Sebastian Stan x oc Ali

Warnings: ehm...none i think, some heated kisses and hints toward sexy times but that’s it.

A/n: still fairly new to the whole writing side of things,so bare with me. Wrote this on my phone so please forgive any mistakes.the picture inspired the story.

Let me know what you think!

Thank you @foodieforthoughts for ones again listening to my rambling and encouraging me to write it down!

“...but yeah, Costa Rica was good” the blonde finished the story of her latest adventure.

A slight breeze sweeping through the highlighted pixie. Still not used to the short length She let her fingers sweep through the locks.

“It suits you.” Sebastian pointed to her head. “I don’t know what happened to” gesturing to the entirety of her body,”but it suits you.”

She looked up in his baby blues, the lights of the carnival around them reflecting so beautifully in them. It was like all the colors, blue,red,white,green, they all strengthened the cerulean of his orbs.

Her cheeks heated up with his complement, his strong gaze making her look away.

Sebastian has been her friend for years. She would absolutely do anything to make him happy. A year ago though she realised her feeling for him might actually mean more to her than they did to him. Every touch,gaze,second spend with him made her heart race. She had tried to figure out whether he may have harboured the same feelings towards her, but when he had come home with a new girlfriend she knew she had to take a step back.

Dont get her wrong. She was happy for him. She would always be happy for him as long as he was. But seeing him with another woman, one as gorgeous as she was. Everything she was not.

The girl had been tall, long legs that went on for miles in all her designer dresses. Her chestnut mane always brushed to perfection.

Not Ali. She was usually wearing either workout clothes or something comfortable, like plain jeans and a good hoodie. Her boring hair usually placed on top of her head in a messy bun. If you could even call it that.

She worked out together with seb for years. They both went to Don for the best workout in town. That’s how they met. But following along with his workouts meant she was in pretty good shape. She had some cushion to her, her behind rounder than average. She was strong and she knew it. But god forbid, she would never give up her dessert.

But seeing him with her, it hurt. That’s when the decision was made to start working somewhere far away. At First it really was to get away from Sebastian and his ‘babe’, but after a month she found that it helped her relax in more ways than one. She rediscovered herself. Working in animal shelters all over the world, five countries, living in those countries. Had changed her outlook on life. Changed her.

For the better, she believed.

Now one year later, stood in the city that never sleeps once again. She had thought that after a year away from him she surely wouldn’t have this silly crush on him anymore...yet every action tonight seemed to prove her wrong.

Both Seb and Don, along with Don’s wife and kids, had waited for her at the airport, immediately bombarding her with questions about all the places she had seen. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought she hadn’t heard of them in a year. Truth be told, she called them every week. Updating them on her working and living arrangements.

“Alisceon?”

She moved her gaze to the oh so handsome face of the man next to her.

Only then realising his hand was softly placed on her lower back. Breath hitching for just a fraction of a second.

“W...what?” Clearing her throat “sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“I realised you dosed of for a good couple of minutes. Been trying to get you attention.”he smiled. Damn that gorgeous grin.”what was it like? Away from home for so long.” His eyes looked sad somehow. “You didn’t even come back for one day”

“I...” she couldn’t explain. That would mean telling him about her feelings and he was just too good a friend to risk that.

“I just couldn’t, seb.”

Tears started to well up and curses were quietly uttered. First from her mouth but soon his as well.

Before she even knew it his hand was place on her cheek. Oh so softly. Absentmindedly leaning into the touch, she looked into his touch.

“I know, Ali. I’m so sorry.” His thumb wiping at the one year that stubbornly escaped.

His eyes darting all over her face. Her eyes, her lips. Eyes...lips. He leaned in, ever so slowly.

Somewhere in the back of her head she could hear her inner voice telling her to breathe. Her lungs slightly burning from the lack of oxygen they were getting. Her eyes looking, staring really, at his slightly parted lips.

Right before his lips landed on hers he looked into her eyes again. She knew he was silently asking her permission. She couldn’t utter a word though. And then he moved to close the space. She felt the curve of his lips on hers,just barely. And then two kids on the loose ran in between Seb and her.

Blinking eyes, switching between the kids and Sebastian who was just about to kiss her seconds ago.

He cleared his throat and looked away.

“Ali...” he started.

He thought it was a mistake. Of course he did. How could she even have thought he actually wanted to kiss her. He probably felt lonely...he had been single for a while and his busy schedule hadn’t allowed him to date a lot, she was sure.

She nodded her head ones and turned to walk the other side.

“Alisceon. Listen...I’ve...god why is it so hard?” He said.

Wrapping her arms around her own waist, she let her eyes roam everywhere but at him. That was until she heard him let out a small laugh.

“What?” She snapped.

She followed his eyes behind her and saw the small white cubicle.

“Let’s go in there.” Before she could even say anything he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the small photobooth.

“Remember we did one of these the first party we did together. That was the best party I’ve ever been to.” He smiled and she couldn’t help but smile along.

“Yeah i remember.”

He pushed her out in front of him into the booth and followed suit.

Having done this with him many,many times before, she knew exactly what to do. So without thinking she smiled and made silly faces along with the flashes. On the second to last flash she felt Sebastian’s breath on her ear,goosebumps gracing her flesh.

“Look at me” he whispered and as she did, time just stopped.

Somewhere in the background she heard the faint click of the last picture being taken,but that was the last thing on her mind. On the foreground though? The scent of forest and wilderness. It enveloped her from all around. She swore a second ago, the second she felt his lips on hers hard and urgent, her heart stopped. But now, now...it was beating so hard she was sure it was gonna jump out of her chest.

“Hey Are you guys done in there? There’s people waiting you know!” The pounding sound on the side of the giant box they were inside of made him jump back.

Simply looking at one another, not saying a word, he lead her out of the booth.

Ones outside she had no idea what to do. Had he not though kissing her was gonna be a mistake? But then he went and did it anyway.

She couldn’t help the hope from showing in her eyes as she looked up at him.

His eyes sparkling with happiness, not an ounce of regret to be seen.

“Seb?” Was all she was able to push out of her throat before he uttered a silent “darlin’” and his hands were on her.

One hand grabbing at the back of her head to keep her in place, his other softly squeezing her hip. His lips moving against hers in a desperate notion.

A hard open mouthed kiss. Making her heart leap out of her chest. Her hands awkwardly holding onto his hips.

But man if she thought that was the best he could offer. His hands moved to her jaw holding her there. His tongue ever so slightly stroked over her bottom lip. She was about to react and let him have all the control over this kiss, hell he already had it. But he pulled away.

Both his and her chest heaving with all the breaths that kiss stole from their lungs.

The way he looked at her, eyes pleading to understand for her to understand what he was feeling, made her smile.

Her hand in his as they walked back towards the car. She wanted to kiss him again, so bad but they would have to talk about this.

As they reached the car he opened the door for her to get in. “I missed you, you know” he whispered as she lowered herself to the seat,hand still in his.

Her eyes big with suprise searching his face.

“Seb,I...we...” his hand went to her jaw, thumb tracing small circles and it was enough to undo her. She moaned.

Shocked by the sound she made she turned red.

“Darlin’” he spoke so quietly she almost missed it. Almost.

“Yes”

God, i want you. Looking like that in that goddamn dress. Traveling really did you good, you know. I feel like I can finally see all of you. And...Darlin’ I want you”it left him in one breath. And only one breath later he was leaning down toward her face again but not closing the gap.

No could do. She grabbed onto his shirt and roughly pulled him towards her and close the gap herself.

“Then have me” was the last thing she said. And they kissed. And it felt so good. It felt right. Like they were meant to do this with one another. He was perfect for her and she had known that for years. And she couldn’t feel anything but happiness and excitement that he had finally caught up to the feeling.

She knew Sebastian better than anyone, and she knew that he didn’t just go around kissing people. This meant more. And she was grateful that from this moment forward. This god damn heated moment forward, they would have the chance to explore each other like never before. Be there for each other and love each other like only they could.

“Let’s take this home, seb.”

He smiled and closed the door before getting into the car himself and taking off into the, mostly unknown,but undoubtedly orgasmic future.

Randomly tagging some people sorry 😁

@mariestark @mary-ann84 @henrythickcavill l @madbaddic7ed @toomanyfandomsshreya @thetaoofzoe @luclittlepond @sweeterthanthis

[doyoufancyathought]

Through The Utility Closet Part 2: An Unexpected Visitor

Y/N looked up from where she had landed on the floor. There was a table of open mouthed individuals, and one very confused presenter, looking down on her. Whoops, this is something she'd have to text her best friend about when she got home.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N stood up and dusted off her apron. "I had no idea there was a second door in the closet, and I couldn't find the light switch, and-"

And she was cut off. "Where did you come from?" The presenter asked.

Y/N motioned to the closet she had just spilled out of. "The storage room?"

"That's a coat closet. And we don't even keep coats in it. How long have you been hiding in there?"

"I'm so sorry," Y/N started to back up, not liking the route her evening had taken. "I swear I wasn't hiding, I was just in the room to put a box on the shelf, I was only in there for a minute, I swear."

He looked confused, as did the people seated around the table. "We've been here for 20 minutes, and there's no way you snuck past us carrying a box."

"Oh, there must be a different door that I came through, then. I'm so sorry, I'll be going now."

"Wait a minute," the man walked over and blocked her from getting back into the closet. "This is my coat closet, and I want to investigate where you came from. Rogers, come here please."

A hulking blonde man stood up from the opposite side of the table and started walking towards our heroine. He said a quiet "Hi, 'scuse me." and maneuvered past her and joined the other man in the room.

"Tony, there's no other door, just the one right here." The blond man said.

I suppose it's important to establish that it's not normal to have secondary doors to coat closets unless you live in a haunted Victorian home full of ghosts that have already plotted 63 different ways to kill you by Tuesday.

"I know, Steve!"

"Then where did she come from?"

"I don't know! She certainly didn't sneak in since we've been here!"

The two men in the closet bickered back and forth for a few minutes. Meanwhile, Y/N turned to the room full of strangers who were observing both her and the argument in the closet in equal amounts. She caught the eye of a massive brunet, and gave him the classic smile given to those you wish to scootch past in the grocery store. He looked away, and a man who I could have sworn had just had a red complexion rose from his chair to stand beside Y/N.

"I do apologize for our manners. My name is Vision, what's yours?"

"I'm Y/N."

"Lovely name. And where are you from, Y/N?"

This gave her pause. She assumed that she was from the same place as they were, the town they were all in at this very moment.

"I'm from here?"

"And where exactly do you think here is?"

"What, you think this door teleported me? I'm in (hometown) of course, same as you!" Y/N chuckled as she looked around the room. She caught the rest of the group exchanging looks, and sighed. "Right?"

Vision gently patted her shoulder. "I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, dear, but you're not in (hometown) anymore. You're in New York."

Y/N looked between Vision and the others. "What? That's crazy! I'm not - there's no way. You guys are crazy." Y/N looked over her shoulder to see the two men in the closet peering out at the rest of the room. "Did you find the other door? I really should get back to work, and I'm sure you all should get back to your meeting."

They shook their heads and moved out of the closet, although it was a battle between who entered the doorway first.

"I'll find it, and I'll be on my way." Y/N charged back into the closet, and crossed the foot and a half wide floor with one step. Surely she'd be better at finding a mysteriously elusive door than two men, right? She ran her fingers over the walls, looking for a hinge or a handle or even a bump to indicate an opening of any kind. She'd even pull an Alice in Wonderland and crawl on her hands and knees through a hole in the wall if she must.

Still, no luck. The wall was as smooth as a baby's bottom, which were usually quite smooth. So, Y/N returned to the boardroom with her arms crossed.

"Alright, this joke is very funny, but I'm really ready to go back to work now!"

"We're not pulling a prank here, I promise, we're just as surprised as you are."

"Seriously? Who paid you to do this? I don't know anyone who could pay you to pull this off. Who did it?"

"Seriously, lady, there's no joke here. We're not pranking you."

"Then," Y/N paused and licked her lips. "Hey, man, where did you say we are?"

Vision told her that she was in New York now. It was too much. Between the heat and the stress and the exhaustion, Y/N's brain couldn't take it any longer. Steve barely had time to leap back over the table and catch her in his arms before she crumbled to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Y/N woke up, she was still in the boardroom, laid out on the floor, surrounded by good looking strangers. Weirdly, her life was looking better than it usually did.

"What happened?"

"You fainted, dear." A man with a goatee spoke up. "Don't worry, you weren't out for very long. I'm a doctor, by the way. Doctor Stephen Strange."

"That's, well," Y/N searched for a better word to describe her situation. "Strange." The man frowned down at her. "Not you, I'm sorry, just, I don't faint, I'm not really the damsel in distress type. Where am I?"

"This again?!?!" Y/N recognized the man from before, Tony. "You're in New York! Where did you come from?"

"I came from work, in (hometown). I don't just wear this apron around for fun, you know!" Y/N gestured to her apron, which conveniently had the company logo on it. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "So, I'm in New York. And I came out of your coat closet. And before that, I was at my job in (hometown), just going about my day. How did I get here?"

"Well," the man called Vision came back into the room. "I'm not quite sure, but if I had to guess, which I don't do often, you've just come through an inter-dimensional portal."

"A what now?"

"An inter-dimensional portal. You've travelled through space, clearly, possibly time as well, and I would guess you've also travelled across different planes of reality since you seem to have no comprehension of who we are. Thus, you've crossed into a different dimension that the one you usually reside in."

"That totally makes sense."

"Oh, really?" The blond giant from earlier asked.

"No, absolutely not. That did not make sense at all, Vision. I thought portals only existed in sci-fi, like Star Trek or stuff like that!" Y/N was, indeed, very confused.

"I think the science might be a little beyond your understanding, dear." Vision said. "But it appears to me that your storage cupboard was a doorway to this universe, to this reality. Sometimes these things just pop up, you know."

Y/N looked at Vision. "No, I don't know that these things just pop up! Pretty sure I would have heard about it on the news." Everyone sat for a moment, pondering their next steps. "So does anyone have any ideas on how to get me back to my world?" Y/N looked around hopefully.

The group of people around her all looked at each other, and Tony, Vision, and Dr. Strange looked thoughtful.

"I think that between the three of us we can probably figure out how to get you home." Dr. Strange finally said.

"And how long will that take? Like a couple of hours maybe?" Y/N asked from the floor.

"Uh, no." Tony stood up and started clearing off a whiteboard. "Inter-dimensional portals cannot be figured out in just a few hours, strange lady. It'll take a few days, at best. You got somewhere to stay?"

"Tony, she's not going to have anywhere to stay, she's not from here." Steve explained.

"She can stay with us!" a dark man with a buzz cut offered. "I've got a spare room in the basement still, she can stay there until we figure out how to get her home. I'm Sam, by the way."

"Hi Sam, I'm Y/N. You don't have to take me in, I can just stay in a shelter if there's one nearby."

"Hang on, I'm calling Fury." Tony dialled a phone, and pointed at me while it was ringing. "You're not staying in a shelter."

"No, it's fine, I'm sure it won't be too bad."

"They're terrible, you're not staying at a shelter, you're coming with me." Sam said.

"And why would I stay with you? I don't know who you are, why should I trust you more than some homeless shelter?" Y/N was standing now, and crossed her arms.

"We're the Avengers! You can trust us."

"I don't think you understand how little that means to me. Who are you?"

"The Avengers."

"And what is the Avengers? Sounds like either a league of superheroes or a terrible pop group."

"We're superheroes."

"Oh shit really?" Y/N blushed. "You're superheroes, for real?"

The group around the table nodded.

"So who's got the laser eyes?"

The group looked mildly confused, because none of them had laser eyes, but fortunately they didn't have a chance to answer, because Fury answered the phone, and Tony set it to speaker.

"What can I help you with, Stark?"

"Well, see, here's the situation. We're just sitting here, having our meeting, and the closet door pops open and this girl comes flying out onto the floor."

"Okay, so you have a spy, you know what to do with that."

"I'm not done yet. We thought she was a spy, but we've come to the conclusion that she actually just came through an inter-dimensional portal."

"So you have an alien in your conference room?"

"She's not an alien, Mr. Fury." Vision interjected. "I've scanned her, and she seems to be perfectly human."

Y/N frowned. She didn't like the thought of being scanned without consent. And how could Vision tell that she was human anyways? And did this guy think she was an alien? Were aliens common in this world?

The man on the other end of the phone sighed. "Is she there?"

"Yeah, she's been here the whole time. You're on speaker." Tony responded.

"I'd like to speak to her."

"Talk away, she's right here."

"Hello, what's your name?"

"I'm Y/n." she said, moving closer to the phone.

"Hi, well welcome to Earth. I'm Nick Fury, director of SHIELD. Welcome to Earth."

"Thanks, but I'm already from Earth, I don't really need a welcome."

"Ok, we'll brush past that for now. Have they explained the inter-dimension portals to you yet?"

"They tried, but if I'm being honest that's a little bit out of my league."

"Fair enough. You're in good hands there; we have the best scientists in the world at those labs. As you might imagine, it's not really an exact science, these portals, so it might take our team a while to figure out how to get you home."

"So are you guys like the men in black? Do you have that movie here?"

"Yeah, we have that movie here. I'm guessing that your world is very very similar to ours, so we're going to be taking you down to one of our labs and running a few tests so we can better determine where you're from. In the mean time, I'll let the Avengers take care of you, they don't have any other pressing matters at this time, and just in case you're a violent alien, they're best equipped to deal with you going rogue."

"Uh, well, I guess that sounds good. I promise I'm not an alien though."

"We'll see about that." Fury hung up and I looked around the room.

"I should make introductions, pardon my manners." Vision stood up from his seat (he kinda seemed to float, but maybe he was just hella graceful).

"This is Steven Rogers, you might hear him referred to as Captain America." The blond man who had earlier joined Tony in a closet gave a quick wave and a smile. He seemed very friendly.

"This is James Barnes, he's very quiet, so don't take offence if he doesn't say much to you. He means no harm." Vision pointed to the brunet I had locked eyes with earlier, and he gave a small smile, but didn't wave.

"This is Sam Wilson, as you know. He, Steve, and James all live together in Sam's house, and I suppose you'll be joining them. I'd offer you our couch, but my wife Wanda and I," here he pointed to a lovely brunette woman seated beside him. "are in the middle of renovations, and I'm sure a spare bedroom would be more comfortable for you than a dusty couch."

Y/N nodded. She was going to have a bit of trouble keeping track of everyone's names.

"This is Bruce Banner, this is Natasha Romanoff, Scott Lang, Clint Barton, Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, and of course, I am Vision." They all waved as their names were said.

"Wait, what's your last name?"

"I don't have one, dear. I'm a computer."

"Oh?" Y/N was shocked, understandably so.

"Yes."

"We don't have that in my world."

"Yes, it's uncommon here as well. Are you ready to go do some tests?"

"Um, I guess so. Nice to meet you all."

Vision and Y/N walked out of the meeting room and started down the hallway.

Tony decided to pick up from where they left off. "So as I was saying,"

"Tony!" Steve yelled at him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting back to the meeting we were having?"

"We just had a girl pop through a portal in our closet, and you want to go back to the meeting?"

"Um, yeah. Vision's got her."

"Aren't you curious?"

"Not really."

"The first time something pops out of a portal and doesn't try to kill us, and you're not interested?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Dude, you're crazy. I'm going down to the lab to watch the tests." Scott jumped up from his seat and started making his way to the door.

"Yeah, me too." Steve and Sam stood up, and Bucky followed suit.

Soon enough, the whole team was exiting the conference room and following the path that Y/N and Vision had taken down to the labs. Tony eventually decided to follow them, because he didn't want to be alone.

They got down to the labs, and found Vision waiting in the hallway.

"They sent her to get changed," Vision explained as the team assembled. "If she's staying here for a while, we're going to have to get her some more clothes. I'm sure she doesn't want to stay in her work clothes the entire time."

"Yeah, I'll get Pepper to make arrangements." Tony said.

After a few minutes, Y/N stepped out of a room just off the hallway. She was wearing grey shorts and a black tank top, and nothing on her feet. She frowned as her bare feet hit the cold tile floor.

"Ugh, so cold. Alright, let's figure out where I'm from."

A nurse came and got her, and led her into another room just off the hallway. There was an observation window, and the team gathered around to watch the tests. They watched her as she jumped up on the table, and smiled at the nurse as she began to hook up wires and prep for a blood draw. Soon they would figure out just who this unexpected visitor was.

[codegemini]

Rinse, Repeat - Part I

 (( Co-written with @sylaess / @sylaesschasewind . Tagging @argonas / @thefugitivemango​  for character mention))

 ~*~*~

The trees swayed gently in the breeze. She smelled moonflowers faintly, and looked around. This again. This grove. So familiar, it was going to drive her mad! She had to know.  But she didn’t. The void in her memory was a gaping wound she couldn’t get past. 

 Sylaess sighed softly, placing her face in her hands gently. There was no scar pitting the left side of her jaw, no exposed tissue. It was oddly gratifying. But it sealed the knowledge that she was not awake. Most likely. Torghast was a very difficult place to traverse when not plagued with traumas. Her grip on reality was fragile at best.

 “Va’shal dan duentha.”  “...I don’t understand you. Why don’t I understand you?” She fixed the other elf with a stare, trying to puzzle him out but only ending up with a headache. She knew that voice, it brought her comfort. Sadness. Longing.  ~*~*~ A sharp, ragged breath drawn in and the sword slammed into the ground beside her head, narrowly missing.  Oh, shit!  Teeth bared in a voiceless snarl of effort, Sylaess brought her feet up and kicked hard at the empty husk of armor. Saronite screeched across the floor as she slid away a little, clattering back to her feet. The intense throbbing in her skull cinched tighter, trying to force her eyes shut.  Breathe. Walk through it.  The brittle calm settled over her, a ragged safety blanket as she fell back into the warrior mindset. It was getting nearly impossible to draw upon. Half clenched fist, runes flared along her body. An enormous spike of ice crashed up from the floor beneath the guard, impaling the hollow armor and immobilizing it.  The rush of magic fled and she wilted, head falling back a bit.  Get your shit together, girl! Find her, get the hell out. You know the drill. 

 The elf scrabbled up her dropped swords, hunting around for one that had been kicked away. Brought herself into a slow jog up the corridor. She’d made it this far. Again.

 The cages hung over the expanse. Were they floating? Chains were taught from the bottom of each descended into unknown depths, but ups and downs were questionable at best. It was not helpful. But she saw her. The ghastly form of Sinafay.  Sheathed her swords and made one giant leap from the edge of the stairs, teetering the cage over the ominous expanse. “--Ugh--” The impact was as graceful as a rotten fruit being hurled. Syl looped an arm through the bars. “Let’s... Let’s try this again.” Her voice was ragged and worn out. A gravelly toneless thing. The elf started fiddling with the lock. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Sinafay gasped, eyes wide as she leaned back against the far side bars of the cage, both to keep herself from falling over as it swung and to be as far away from this image of Sylaess as she could.

 “WHY do you keep coming back?! Leave me alone!” She growled, “I -know- what this place is! I -know- you are not really her!”

 The lock finally came free. Sylaess let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sagging against the cage, her elbow hooked through the only real support she had. “Seriously, the amount of times I’ve had my ass kicked here? The Jailer picks better people to represent him, I assure you.” The elf grimaced, maneuvering herself to the side so she could kick the door open. Hastily healed slashes, unattended gouges and a myriad of other mostly superficial damage that she just didn’t have the energy to mend up again gave her a very... earthy look. Much like a worn out rag.

 “If you’re going to torture me, just get it over w—“

Sinafay cut herself off, however, as she felt something different about the Kal’dorei. It wasn’t her, per say, but more of what followed her. Spirits… lost spirits. They clung to her… Sinafay frowned, confused. Spirits wouldn’t cling to the jailor’s forces. If anything, they would be repelled… cowering.

 “Why do the lost follow you?” She asked, curiosity overcoming her panicked state.

  “...They think I’m a good option to get them out of here, but personally, I’ve now got fresh doubts up to my fucking ears. I come back for you because I promised Argonas I’d keep you safe.” Syl shut her eyes a moment. “I failed him.” And he’ll have every damn right to be disappointed, but let’s survive this first. 

Those black eyes seemed to stare off into the expanse of cloudy nothingness a moment, she shook her head. “I’ve got to try to get you out. I...”  Sylaess grimaced again, letting the words just fail. Steeled herself up for the next exertion. Leapt, caught the edge with her chest and her legs swung beneath the platform. Vivid swearing strained as she scrabbled her purchase of the edge, plated hands slipping. Saronite screeching on stone. It all made to ramp up her headache that much more. “Fuck sakes!” 

 A wisp flew wildly about her head. “Would you piss off!” Hanging on by sheer will and gumption, she snarled.  “This is the worst joke I’ve ever been the ass of. Almost.” Wheezed the words, resting her face on the cold stone of the platform, once she had enough grip not to be in perilous threat of falling. “Or at the very least, the worst drug trip I’ve ever been on.” She still dangled over the edge precariously. Hooked a foot finally.

Sinafay’s tail twitched and flickered erratically behind her as she didn’t move from her side of the cage. She kept her suspicious gaze on the struggling elf, internally debating on the validity of her words. She wanted to believe this was really her friend, but how could she be certain.

 “If you are the real Sylaess, then why do you not remember the very event that brought us together as friends? Do you remember Sigil? Draenor? Tanaan? Do you know anything about me other than the fact that I am Argonas’ mate? Why are your eyes like that? What is wrong with you?!”

Sylaess gave a good heave and hauled herself back on top of the platform gracelessly, laying there a moment. So tired. Empty. Debating on how to answer all of that. Breath in, hold, release. She brought herself up to sit on her feet, tucking back her ragged black hair. Drew a hand over her face wearily.  “A long story full of mostly bad decisions.”

 “I don’t remember anything because I sold my memories to an Old God. I remember snippets. Fragments. Worse, nothing makes real sense. No, I’m not sure you’re real either. In fact, I’ve not been sure about reality since falling in with N’zoth. Good news is, he’s dead.”  The abrupt and naked truth of it stung like a raw scrape in cold air. Somehow, hearing it in her own gravelly ruined voice made it all too much. 

 “My eyes are like this because the kaldorei--Tyrande--called upon the Night Warrior after the burning of Tel’drassil. I took the blessing with thousands of other kaldorei. This was before the Old God made an appearance.”  A bitter smirk twisted her face. “And as for what’s wrong with me,” Her gaze finally swept over to Sinafay as she rose. “I don’t think an eternity is enough to cover that one.” She spread her hands slightly, as if surrendering. The silent ‘what do you think now?’ so plainly evident.

Sinafay just… stared, head slowly tilting to the side as it often did when she was struggling to understand something. An awkward silence stretched on between them as she tried to make some sort of sense of everything Sylaess had said, before finally speaking up.

 “Teldrassil… burned? An Old God? Why would—“ 

 No, she didn’t have to ask about the Old God deal, she’d made similar mistakes in the past. At least that explained the missing memories.

 “I… remember a large influx of souls arriving… a lot of them ended up in this tower…”

 She shook her head. There was nothing to be done about that. This was her first time in Torghast, and she didn’t know how to get around at all.

 “My apologies, Sylaess. When we -do- manage to finally escape this place, and I manage to return to Azeroth, I will do all that I can to help get your memories back.”

 She looked at the distance between the cage  and platform.worried her bottom lip.

 “So I take it that, in true Sylaess fashion, you have no idea where we are or how to escape.

 “We’re in a place called Torghast. It’s the worst place in the Shadowlands you could possibly be. Of course.” The elf smiled a bit, superficially. A little refreshed that she wasn’t under extreme scrutiny. Something she shouldn’t have really feared with Sinafay. She knew that. Somehow.  “The halls keep on forever it seems. There’s a lot of levels down, the best we can do is keep trying.” She looked up at the swirling mass of clouds. At least she thought they were clouds. “This tower is the mirror of Icecrown citadel, so to speak. So. As we can’t get up and through to Icecrown, we’ve got to get back to whatever the hell is ground level. There has to be a door.”

 “Shall we?”

~*~*~

[arieteis]

@urianius :) some rambling for you

someone really needed to write a book on how exactly to navigate one's own feelings and breakdown how relationships were supposed to work. of course, those existed, but hwiyoung had already thumbed through enough of them at a local bookstore to know they were loaded with bullshit. or, maybe, he was so deep in the honeymoon phase of this newfound feelings that nothing in the book made any logical sense. in the end, it really didn't matter, as it at least seemed as though yeonmi was just as lost as he was if their awkwardness around each other during their most recent meetings was any indicator of how they both felt. before it was so easy to touch her, brush a stray piece of her perfect hair away, or gently give her hand a squeeze when she was speaking a little too much about something he had no interest in like her rich girl drama, but now everything felt so different. it was almost as though a whole new meaning was applied to their every little action, or maybe that was just his fear of messing up what they had slipping through.

he'd always heard dating friends was a mistake. hwiyoung had never had many friends, but he'd bonded with a few other boys in the orphanage until the inevitably were pushed out due to their age or were one of the lucky few who actually got taken home to a family.  during this time, they'd discussed things fueled on by teenage hormones and their glimpses of pretty girls in the streets outside. one boy claimed to have experience, or seemingly knew someone who did, and he repeatedly warned hwiyoung to never, under any circumstances, date a friend. it always ended messy, he said, you could never go back to the way things were if it happened to go awry. at the time, he'd vowed to himself he'd never be one of the fools that fell for one of their friends, but young hwiyoung couldn't have ever predicted a girl like yeonmi waltzing into his life.

it's funny how your feelings can so drastically change for someone. while he'd always been thankful for yeonmi's attention, it was more for his own benefit rather than him caring about her happiness. for a while, she was nothing more than a plaything to him, something to keep him occupied and at one point, someone he wanted to steal blind. he was still unsure when exactly the switch had been flipped, but he can vaguely remember suddenly finding her much more bearable and then next he knew, he didn't want to be apart from her too long. not only that, but it seemed she was always running around his thoughts at any given moment in the day. what is yeonmi up to? is she happy? did she eat? this manifested in slightly teasing text messages sent to her with a small smile on his face, always followed up by some cheesy pick up line with a heart or some other emoji. it seemed like the right thing to do as a boyfriend, the hearts and pickup lines, but perhaps he needed to step up his game at some point. they'd yet to even hold hands. maybe that was where he needed to start. then again, the thought absolutely terrified him, and so he'd yet to break through that wall, always telling himself there'd be another time. on her end she'd yet to attempt either. he'd honestly assumed the moment he asked her out everything would magically fall into place and he'd know exactly what to do and when, but unfortunately life was not that simple, and romance was even more complex than he could have ever guessed.

now, sitting next to her on the floor at the foot of her bed, he thinks that maybe these thoughts are the last thing he should be thinking. as for why they were on the floor? he refused to sit on her bed. now that they had an official title, it just felt too real. what if they moved immediately into cuddling? he wasn't quite ready to make that step, and the further they stayed from her plush mattress, the less likely the dreaded cuddling would happen. now, the idea did sound wonderful, and very boyfriend like, but he was sure he'd combust if he was that close to her, especially considering he still hadn't worked up the courage to even twine his fingers with hers. with that thought his eyes flicker down to her hands before back up to her face, his lips curling into a small grin as he catches the excited look on her face, one he tucks away far into the recesses of his brain for a later look. he's not really sure what she's talking about, some designer brand clothing he could never dream of affording, but while this topic may have bored him to tears before, now he found himself elated to just hear her talk and look happy. it was a good look on her, the smile, especially when it was genuine. he still wonders how he hadn't noticed it before, but no matter the wait, he had finally realized it and now he was determined to never let her frown for too long. he wondered if she felt the same way about him.

"right, right, it is a little overrated." he still has no idea what she's talking about, but he laughs nonetheless, wrinkling his nose at the mention of some gucci sweater. he did recognize that name, at least. "i don't know, i think gucci looks a little... tacky? you know i know absolutely nothing about fashion so don't hate me if i'm wrong, but the g's all over just seem a little much in my opinion." he shrugs then, tilting his head in her direction as she slips into conversation about an entirely different brand and the pieces she'd like to get her hands on. right, hands. his eyes flit back to hers again and his teeth worry his bottom lip as he contemplates just how terribly things could go wrong. but life was all about making mistakes, anyway.

he reaches over and slips his fingers between hers before she has a chance to react and pull away, tightening his hold around her hand rather gently as if to say to give it a chance. as for him, he finds himself burning a hole into the ground, his cheeks a rosy pink that he doesn't want her to see as he assumed he'd never hear the end of it if she did. his hand is somewhat clammy and he desperately hoped she didn't mind, thinking she'd understand his nerves enough to let it go. he was unsure of her experience, but his was virtually none, so for him this was a giant leap in the proper boyfriend behavior direction. at least, he hoped so.

"is this okay?" he belatedly realizes he's mumbling and assumes she hadn't heard when he doesn't get an immediate response, lifting his head with a shaky laugh and offering her a grin as he rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand. "i mean, do you like this? holding hands? i thought it was about time."

he doesn't exactly register her exact response, too focused on the color of her now blushing cheeks, and he decides right then he'd like to see it again and again. he can't help the wide smile that blossoms on his face, reaching over with his spare hand to pinch her cheek lightly with an obnoxious coo. here he was, teasing her, as if he wasn't combusting on the inside. his mind had wandered to the fact that now that they were officially holding hands, the next item on the list was either hugging or kissing. that alone was enough to have his cheeks heating up ever so slightly again.

when she questions why he's suddenly blushing, he refuses to answer, instead focusing on an all out assault of her pink cheeks. she could hate him later, the reactions he was getting were just too cute for him to resist. maybe being in a relationship wasn't as hard as he initially thought. confusing, maybe, but he certainly felt happy.

for now he'd focus on their happiness alone and hope that everything else would fall into place over time.

[antihero-writings]

Stolen Sunlight

Fandom: Tangled | Tangled the Series | Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Summary: Arianna never thought she'd find herself afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy, but the events of Secret of the Sundrop won't seem to leave her.

She needs to talk to Varian in prison. Not for his sake...but for her own.

Character focus: Arianna and Varian

Notes: This is a fic I started writing many many years ago, during the hiatus between seasons 1 and 2. I intended to post it way back then, as a long one-shot. I continued to occasionally work on it over the years, however, it's proven one of the hardest fics I've ever written to edit, (mostly due to the amount of internal monologue).

I finally decided that probably the only way to get it actually edited and posted is to break it up into multiple chapters, despite the fact that it's essentially only one scene, and I feel like that messes with the format. Hopefully it'll help me edit, and end up making it easier for people to read too XD I might post the full version of this, unbroken up, too after I finish it. But I finally got fed up with my editing process and decided this was the only way.

I'm aware that plenty of other people have written Varian and Arianna fics over the years, but at the time I started this there weren't that many yet, and I worked so hard on this, I still wanted to post it, even if others have done things like it. Plus, I'm not sure how many people have written it this heavily from Arianna's perspective.

I hope you all enjoy it, either way! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment to let me know, if so!!

Chapter 1: Fractured Memory

Sun splinters through the castle windows, designing reflections on the newly polished floor.

When she walks into the library, her mouth drops open; The entire room gleams. That Corona sunlight bounces between the tiles, tables, and shelves like a little boy full of energy, laughing as he leaps around the room. 

It may be a royal library, but there’s usually still a layer of dust draped over everything, sealing up the gaps, and clogging up the stories. The servants try their best, but it’s hard to get into all the crevices between the shelves, the cracks between the pages. 

The tiles glitter, the shelves look new, the books don’t cough up dust when she lifts them, even a few of their bindings are mended. 

She stays a while to admire it before heading back for her room, and as she does, Arianna smiles, her gait almost dreamy—so like her daughter’s. 

Who would take such care to polish her library? She appreciates the gesture more than words can express, but she would like to say ���thank you’ at least. 

A curious sight down the hall interrupts her wondering; a laundry cart, moving on its own. 

A very full laundry cart, that is…Cassandra doesn’t usually fill them so much.

“May I…help you?” she walks up to the cart, tilting her head, strands of hair falling to the side. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I got this!” the laundry cart replies. 

The ventriloquist reveals himself: a boy steps out from behind it. She guesses he must be one of Rapunzel’s friends, since she doesn’t remember seeing him here before, and he doesn’t exactly look like a royal servant, (despite the fact that he’s performing one of their jobs).

He pushes back his hair—black, with a streak of turquoise at the front—and smooths out his apron. Upon seeing her, his eyes widen with shock.

 “Oh!” he stumbles, attempting to bow too low, too quickly, “Your majesty! I-I am so sorry! I didn’t realize—!”

She laughs, holding out a hand to steady him. 

“Don’t worry. Please. I’m Arianna.”

“Oh—O-Okay. That…seems to run in the family,” he mutters beneath his breath. “I’m Varian.” He leans confidently against the laundry cart…which starts moving, so he pulls it back with all his strength before it gets out of hand.  

“Oh! Varian! Rapunzel told me about you!”

He freezes, his eyes trailing back to her, like people talking about him is usually a bad thing. “She…She has?”

“Of course!” she steps closer. “You’re the alchemist, right?”

He pauses, blinks, then his face breaks into the biggest grin. He clears his throat, rubbing fake dirt off his gloves, trying to hide his joy, as he looks back up at her. “Ten points to the lady in the crown.”

She smiles.

“Are you here for the completion today?” 

He nods. “I think I’ve got a pre-tty good chance of snagging that first prize if I do say so myself,” he pulls on his apron straps, then pauses, realizing how arrogant that sounds. “Not to uh…toot my own horn or anything. But it doesn’t seem like there’s anything like my invention in the running, so I think once Master Doctor St. Croix sees it he’ll be impressed! At least I hope so.”

“Well, if your invention is anything like the ones Rapunzel has told me about you’ll have no trouble snagging that blue ribbon.”

“Oh stop,” he flicks his wrist to wave her off, but is beaming from ear to ear. 

She notes that she may be encouraging him a little too much. The experiments Rapunzel has told her about aren’t exactly all blue-ribbon worthy. Or, perhaps they would be…if they all worked properly. At the same time, she isn’t sure labelling him as dangerous, and reckless is really fair. She and Willow had tried out their share of inventions, which often failed in a grand array of explosions. If they had worked properly, growing up wouldn’t have been as colorful. At least he was trying his best to help people with his inventions. Without the explosive failures, there was no room for fiery success either. 

 “Wait, shouldn’t you be there with the other contestants now?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says nonchalantly. “But I figured since I’m going second-to-last I’ve got a decent amount of time before I have to present. Cassi—Cassandra has agreed to be my assistant, so I’m helping her out with her lady-in-waiting duties first.”

“Don’t let her make you do all her work.” She says in a motherly way. Then gasps, “The library!” 

 He winces. “Did I do something wrong? I-I can fix it, don’t worry!”

“No, no!” she puts her hands on his shoulders, “So you were the one who cleaned it?”

“Yeees…?”

She pulls him into a hug. “Thank you so much.”—his eyes widen with shock—“I’ve never seen the place look so beautiful.” She releases him. 

“Oh!” he rubs the back of his neck and the smile turns sheepish.

“That must have taken you hours!”

“It was no big deal. Nothing a little home-alchemy can’t fix.” He says like a salesman.

“How did you do it?”

“Just a compound of my own invention,” he digs in his pocket and holds up a little, blue orb between his thumb and forefinger. “Most people don’t understand the more practical uses for alchemy.” he marches forward, hands on his hips, in a hyperbolic show of pride, making his voice sound deep, “that’s why I make it a mission to show the world the value of alchemy! To boldly go where no man has gone before!” he laughs, his pose collapsing, “Or something like that.”

No wonder Rapunzel had such nice things to say about him. There weren’t a lot of people out there who were so…genuine. People who cleaned libraries because they needed cleaning, who created solutions for problems simply because they needed fixing. 

 “Maybe one day you can teach me.”

“Really?” He drops the ball and it explodes into a sudsy mess on the already polished floor. “I mean, not that I think a queen should be doing housework! But…really?”

“Please,” she waves him off. “I wasn’t always a queen, you know. If Willow and I had had tricks like this maybe our house would have always looked like a pigsty. Sometimes I think we started going off on adventures just to get away from the smell.” She leans in closer, whispering behind her hand, “One time, I set the kitchen on fire trying to bake a birthday cake for Frederic.”

He laughs, then pauses like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to. “I guess not every queen is scared to get her hands dirty, huh?”

“Uh huh,” she puts her hands on her hips, “You should have seen the look on his face.”

“Happy birthday huh?”

“Now make sure to always send someone to Monty’s for his cake…spare us all.”

He fails to keep himself from laughing again, then pauses.

“Well… I really should be getting back to these chores. This laundry isn’t going to clean itself, amIright?” he bobs his head and walks backwards to the cart. “But it was really nice talking to you, your Maj—I mean,” he points, “Arianna.”

“Let me help you! This cart is too heavy to carry on your own.” she rushes over to the other end—he’s so thin, she’s afraid he’ll snap in two if he does all the chores by himself.

“No no!” he comes dangerously close to slapping her hands away. “I mean,” he smiles nervously, pulling his fingers close to his chest, realizing his outburst to the Queen. “I wouldn’t want you to get your…er…royal hands dirty…Right?”

She smiles. 

Well, if a little stubborn. 

“As long as you’re sure.” 

*

*

* The scene shifts, smearing like a painting left out in the rain. The reflection becomes more sinister; a glowing tower of amber, and encased within, a man reaching to the sky as if trying to catch rays of sunlight; as if light alone can break himself out of his prison of stained glass. The curtain to this godforsaken show is crumpled at the bottom. A giant machine stands in the middle of the room, made of metal, lightning, and cold, haunting music. 

The room smells like sulfur, and rust, and a lot of other chemicals she can’t quite place. Things from the earth which don’t smell natural at all. 

The same boy stands before her. The same, and yet…not the same at all. Along with the light from the windows, so too has disappeared the light from his eyes. The blue is something akin to moonlight; less the gleam of day, the reflection of the sunrise, full of hope, instead, more an eclipsed glow, shrouded by darkness. 

She feels that rusted metal, the cold in his eyes, wrap like icy hands around her ankles. 

She looks quizzically from her cuffed ankles to him. Doesn’t the warden usually cuff the prisoner’s hands? 

He seems to understand her confusion, because he answers her unasked question;

 “Please,” he scoffs. His eyes meet hers, and he smirks. The words, the smile, no longer contain compassion, they are manufactured with bite and scorn; “I wouldn’t want you to get your royal hands dirty.” 

He tugs hard on the chain, showing that it’s connected to the lab’s floor, as if saying to a toddler You’re stuck here, understand? He walks back over to his desk—littered with bottles, liquid bubbling and seething like his emotions, an array of colors that tell nothing of what they contain. 

If the color green is sleep, then what color is death? 

She looks up at the golden tower in the center of the room. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t look away. 

—Look away…like Frederic did, when people like Varian were crying out for his help against the rocks. Look away, like Rapunzel had to when the storm was coming, and Quirin was being imprisoned. Look away, like they all did after the storm passed.

 She still couldn’t believe her husband would, could do something like that. That was the reason she was here, the reason the boy was hurt, the reason…the mistake, the poorly made choice. 

No, she couldn’t think that way. Besides, she knew he had his reasons, that he wanted to make sure people didn’t panic, and he wanted to keep Rapunzel safe. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t fully understand the situation. 

And she would never blame Rapunzel. Rapunzel had had to make one of the most difficult choices of her life that day, had had to learn too much about being queen, too soon: that it was about choices, and sometimes those choices would be leaving behind the one, for the sake of the many. 

And the amber was the other reason, and that wasn’t Frederic’s fault...The amber Varian himself had mistakenly made.

Still, it would have been so easy. So easy to come back to him once the storm had ended. So easy...

So where did the fault lie, really?—

Was it amber? Was amber the color of death? Or just another kind of sleep? 

The boy’s eyes shift, glaring at her with nothing more than bitterness. 

Or was it blue? The color of the moon, a well-timed strike of lightning, an icy landscape. Was blue the color of death?

 “What are you going to do?” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “I’ll reveal my whole plan to you. Let me go into the tragic backstory of Varian,” he waves his hand grandly, “The poor boy, who lost his father to an experiment, a few rocks, a storm, and a princess’ broken promise.” He leans on the desk, resting his cheek in his hand in some mock-loving fashion, his eyes aimed on her like gunfire. “It’s simple; Rapunzel broke her promise.” He stands back up to his full height—which, admittedly, isn’t very high, but it’s more impressive from her place on the ground. “I tried asking nicely for her help, and I was denied.” He jabs a finger on the table to emphasize his point; the first sign of violence. “Now I’m going to ask” he smirks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes half-lidded in the dark, “not so nicely.” 

He pauses a moment, glancing at the chemicals on his desk. 

“I once said I’d teach you the ways of practical alchemy.” He reaches forward and takes up a flask. “Well, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I will show you something.”

He walked over to her, holding the flask full of something green and frothy that smells like dog breath.

Was it green? Was death’s color the same as sleep? The colors of leaves and grass and everything everyone thinks is a sign of life. ...It would be a cruel joke.

“This is a little solution I like to call…Varium.” There’s something hurt in his eyes when he says the word. “You see, when it reacts with the rocks,” he runs his fingers along the black spire jutting through the wall between them—one could be fooled into thinking in an intrigued way, but there was something harsh in his touch, resentful in his eyes, “it has this tendency to—” he held it over the stones, the liquid trickling slowly downwards in the flask, teasing her breath to catch itself and fall. He turns the bottle upright, and bites his lip, closing his eyes, willing himself not to turn around and look at what this has done before. 

What he’s done. 

“Well, you get the idea,” he mutters, returning the flask to his desk.

She doesn’t have to ask, and he doesn’t have to finish. 

“You think if you threaten me Rapunzel will work with you?” there’s a bite to her words. 

 “Ten points to the lady in the crown.” 

She pauses as he returns to work, her eyes trailing along the chain, the floor, jumping onto the windowsill—the rocks interrupting her gaze at every bend and break of the room—searching for any way out, any chance at rescue, anything her husband and daughter could use against him.

Was death black? The color everyone thinks it is. The black of these rocks, the low blue glowing beneath them, destroying his home, destroying their hearts, their chances at friendship and…It surely seemed like it. 

“She won’t, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow as if to say oh, you think?

“Rapunzel.” She tries to urge her confidence, like a stubborn pet, to come out, but it shies away by the second. “She won’t help you.”

He smiles. “You make your hypotheses, I’ll make mine.”

“And what are yours?” her own eyes are half lidded. 

He thinks over his words. “She can’t…help but help. She always had this sick compassion about her.” After a moment he adds softly, “…but only for her kingdom.”

Anger, injustice, bubble within her chest. 

 “You don’t have to be like this, you know.”

“And she didn’t have to break her promise,” he tilts his head, “ya know.”

She grits her teeth, clenches her fist. “I met you once. What happened to that boy who—”

He laughs a little, cutting her off. “Yeah, well, he learned a couple things about the real world.”

For a moment, just one brief moment, there is something there. Something in his eyes, a memory, a reaction, like the chemicals. Something real, something lost, something hurt, something…something not this. Incased within a prison of blue—

And then that moment ended.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Inferno: Part 5 (final)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Your father drops what he’s holding when you literally rip the front door of the compound off its hinges and toss it a few feet away. “Were you ever going to tell me?” you yell, stomping into the room. You know your face is too hot and so are your hands but you can’t be bothered.

To his credit, Tony doesn’t pretend to not know what you’re talking about. He sighs and crosses his arms. “Y/N, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” you bellow, your eyes stinging with anger. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”

“I was worried about you—”

“So you sent the one person I hate most to spy on me? To completely invade my privacy? The one person I knew I could trust—”

“Okay,” Tony admits, “so it wasn’t the best idea. And I realized that soon after. But Y/N, what was I supposed to tell you? How was I supposed to tell you?”

“Um, by telling me?” You scoff angrily. “Instead of me going through my former best friend’s texts and figuring it out for myself?”

“Wait,” Tony interrupts. “Peter didn’t tell you himself?”

“Why the hell would he? He’s too busy making fun of me with you!”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand—” Tony shakes his head. “Peter was supposed to tell you in person. I told him to. We figured you’d at least take it better, but no wonder you’re so upset—”

“It wouldn’t matter if he told me in person, in text, or over a goddamn email!” you yell. “You still spied on me—”

“Can we please talk about this?” he pleads. “Y/N, you’re traumatized. You were imprisoned for a crime you didn’t commit. You wouldn’t talk to me and I knew that you and Peter would get along, but after the first meeting it was obvious he needed to wear the mask!”

“I don’t want to talk to you about anything,” you say, disgusted, shaking your head. “I don’t want your excuses. What you did sucked, okay?”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” you bark. “I don’t want to hear anything from you for a while. Just leave me the hell alone!”

You stomp away in the direction of your room and the fire alarm starts to beep.

“Miss Y/N, please cool yourself,” FRIDAY says calmly. “You are reaching dangerous temperatures.”

You scoff. “I can’t hurt myself with fire.”

“No, but you could hurt those around you,” the AI responds. “Including myself.”

“Did you know what they did?” you demand up to the ceiling.

There is a pregnant pause before the AI confirms it.

“Wow.” You shake your head. “Just wow.”

“I was under strict orders not to inform you—”

“Whatever, FRIDAY. I don’t want to hear from you either.” Scowling, you slam your door shut but stop short at the sight of a figure upside-down outside your window.

Spider-man—Peter Parker—taps frantically on the glass, waving to get your attention. You close your blinds and turn your back on the window, but a buzzing in your pocket catches your attention. It’s the boy outside your window. You decline the call. He’s already tried to call fifteen times and sent you 13 text messages.

For good measure, you block his number. Not a second later is he messaging you on Instagram, so you take the next logical step in your mind. You throw your phone out the window so hard it shatters the glass and hopefully hits that lying bastard, too.

You’re out of the room before Spider-man can stick his head out the window, locking the door from the outside using a special program you’d installed in FRIDAY, and decide to sleep in a guest room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thankfully your new phone has a new number that Parker doesn’t know, and you’re pretty sure Tony knows better than to give it to him. You blocked him on every social media platform you have for good measure, although that hasn’t stopped you from noticing him. In fact, you’re probably noticing him more than usual because your two fanbases have come together in a major panic over why Inferno and Spider-man aren’t hanging out, following each other, or even talking anymore.

All your mentions in the past two weeks have looked exactly like this:

just-a-dumbass: @Y/N_Stark plz respond!!!! why are you and Spider-man fighting? he won’t talk about it at all when we asked on his livestream he hung up and hasn’t done another since!!!!

that-one-asian: @Y/N_Stark and @The-Official-Spiderman you guys really need to make up you were my #1 celebrity ship and i dont understand why you broke up

spideyismydaddy: guys you can tell @The-Official-Spiderman is really cut up about this, he hasn’t livestreamed in days or even uploaded a story. @Y/N_Stark you’re a real bitch for breaking his heart

newyorkhoe: guys we don’t even know if @Y/N_Stark and @The-Official_Spiderman were dating. maybe they’re just really good friends that are fighting. either way, you can tell that both are having a rough time. lay off the negativity!!!

wyoming_isnt_real: @Y/N_Stark why are you and spidey fighting? if he hurt you i’ll beat him up :(

spideyinferno: @Y/N_Stark @The-Official-Spiderman

That tweet has a link attached. You click on it out of curiosity only to realize that actual news websites are writing articles about the ‘Feud Between New York’s Hottest Heroes’. You scroll down to the bottom where there are previews of other articles written about this. Is this really the biggest deal ever? Are people really freaking out over the fact that you’re not hanging out with a spying liar anymore?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You should have known. Even at night, civilians are still out and about, and they love to do nothing other than gossip. You’re in Brooklyn, for God’s sake, and they’re still chasing after you with cameras, screaming and asking questions about your relationship with Spider-man. These people have probably never even seen him before. He operates in Queens!

It’s no use. You have to change out of your suit. You’re too noticeable.

You duck into a tourist shop and melt the door handle so the screaming hordes can’t follow you in. “I’m so sorry,” you say breathlessly to the shopkeeper and dig around in your pockets for an empty check. You’ve learned to always keep one on hand. You have one, but you don’t know exactly how much replacing a door costs. “Do you have a pen?” Just to be safe, you write down $15,000 and grab a hoodie and sweatpants while the shopkeeper stares at the check you’d shoved into his hands. You can hear people pounding on the back entrance of the store, too, and you look around wildly for an escape.

Unwelcome, a thought pops into your head: What would Spidey do? How would he get out of this situation?

You look up and smile. You may not have webs but you can jump pretty high.

“Sorry about this,” you say to the shopkeeper again. He gapes as you leap straight up into his ceiling. You take a running leap off the roof and land on the sidewalk a couple hundred feet away. Some New Yorkers spare you glances as they step around and over you, but you don’t mind them as you pull your hood up and start walking.

A familiar thwip, though, has you stop. People start to yell Spider-man’s name and you look up, one hand keeping your hood in place. You duck behind a taller man and peek at your former friend from behind the stranger’s arm.

“Where is she?” he yells, wheezing a little bit. He must have sprinted over. A little part of your chest warms at the thought of him being frantic to see you, but then you realize that his voice really doesn’t change at all when he’s got the mask on. You were just too stupid to notice it.

The civilians start to all shout different things, mostly pointing to the store, but Spider-man waves his hands to get everyone to be quiet. “One at a time!”

“She went into that store but got out through the roof and now we don’t know where she is!” someone shouts.

“What happened between you two?”

You lean forward, holding your breath. Surely Spider-man will say that you overreacted and were the bitch most people on the internet seem to think you are. It’ll cement your belief that he’s a giant jerk and you’ll be able to go about your day feeling a little better about this whole situation.

“I messed up,” Spider-man explains, sounding sadder than he has a right to. “And I don’t blame her for being mad at me. I’d be pretty mad at me, too.”

“What did you do?” someone else shouts.

For a moment, you think Spider-man meets your eyes and you jerk back, accidentally falling into somebody else. It cuts off Spider-man, who was saying, “It doesn’t really matter what I did. I’m just really sorry and I want her to know, even if she doesn’t forgive me—”

“Watch it!” the person snaps, yanking your sweatshirt in anger. The hood slips off your head and their eyes widen. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry—”

“She’s right here!” another person who’d watched the commotion shouts. “Look, Spider-man, you can apologize to her—”

The crowd starts to scream, looking for you, and you shove your hood back up and keep up with the commotion.

“Y/N!” Spider-man shouts, his voice cracking. “Please just talk to me?”

Pull yourself together, you think viciously. You’re acting like a total idiot in public.

And you don’t look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“I’m not doing it. You can’t make me.”

“We need you.”

“You have him.”

“Yeah, but we also need you.”

“I have plans for today.”

“Really?” your dad crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. “And what are those?”

You cross your arms right back and don’t respond. You both know you don’t have any plans for today, but you’d rather do nothing than go on a mission with half of the team including Spider-man.

“I’m sure he asked you to include me?”

Tony scuffs his foot on the ground.

“Not a chance.” You shake your head.

“Look, is now really the best time to be arguing about this?” Natasha puts in, tapping her foot impatiently. “Parker and Cap are handling this mutant fine at the moment but his friend is coming. They can’t handle two of them.”

You roll your eyes. “You two can go. You’re highly skilled and experienced—”

“And one of them is a lava monster,” your dad interrupts.

“Exactly, so my powers will be useless on it.” You shrug.

“But you also won’t get hurt if you draw its fire. Plus, Nat doesn’t have powers at all. Dealing with human criminals is one thing but mutants are a bit much for even her to handle. No offense, Nat.”

The assassin in question raises one eyebrow and doesn’t agree or disagree with your father’s statement. Privately, you think that Nat really could handle at least one of the monsters on her own, depending on the tools she has to work with. But you digress.

“I hate you,” you try.

“Love you too, honey.” Your dad kisses your forehead for the first time in a month. “Your suit is in the jet. Can we get going, please?”

Okay, you will admit that maybe you underestimated these two mutants. One has heat-based powers, just like you, and flickers between a human form and a human-shaped pile of lava. The other seems merely to have super strength and is trading blows with Captain America like it’s a friendly sparring session.

You narrow your eyes and assess the battlefield from your perch in the jet. “Okay, so we obviously need to get the civilians out of here. Nat, you can handle that, right?”

The red-haired assassin nods her head.

“And I can distract the fire thing,” you decide. Anticipation curdles your stomach though it’s less at the fight and more at the thought of seeing Spider-man again—he is the one fighting that monster, after all, and dodging its streams of fire quite spectacularly, though you’d never tell him so. “We just need to knock it out when it’s in its human form. Dad, you can help Steve, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes you and you roll your eyes. “Everybody ready?”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as the jet lowers just enough for you to leap out of it, Tony in his suit with Nat clinging onto his back just behind you.

You slam into the lava monster, knocking it off its feet and tumbling a few feet away, your teeth clanking at the impact. Through your earpiece, you hear Cap greeting Nat and Tony, before a significantly higher male voice pierces your eardrums.

“Y/N?”

You wince and look up. Peter’s staring at you, and though his mask is on, you can tell that his mouth is open with shock. Though his exclamation was loud, it was also comforting. You’d missed him more than you care to admit.

“Underoos, pay attention!” your father barks and Peter looks at the lava monster and shrieks (you make a mental note to tease him about that later) before leaping into the air and avoiding a stream of lava that would have melted him instantly.

“Inferno,” the lava mutant hisses, eyes flickering between gaping black rock pits and dark human eyes. Both appearances convey her hatred for you clearly. “You can’t hurt me.”

“Yeah, well, ditto,” you respond. “And, for your information, fire isn’t my only power, thank you very much.”

The mutant holds up her hand and a stream of lava flies toward you, hitting your skin and sliding to the ground before it hardens instantly. “You’re a mutant against your will just like me,” the lava mutant hisses. “Join us. Help us take revenge against those who wronged us.”

Peter shoots a web that disintegrates a foot in front of the mutant. The air around her is so hot it’s wavering like a mirage. Powerless against the mutant, he looks at you.

“Look, I get getting revenge,” you say. You press a hand to your ear and mutter, “Shock web when she’s human.” You continue louder, “I got my own revenge. But I didn’t do it by hurting innocent civilians. In fact, my father did it so Killian wouldn’t hurt anybody else.”

“They don’t understand our pain,” the mutant hisses. She flickers and Spider-man twitches but he was too slow and continues to creep out of the mutant’s line of vision. With her eyes fixed on you, she doesn’t seem to care. “Only we do.”

“I know,” you say soothingly. You hold your palm up to the sky and let a little flame dance over your palm. “I know it hurts. I was in pain for days straight when Killian gave me the serum. But this isn’t the way to get your revenge.”

This time, when the mutant flickers, she remains in her human form for a second longer. You smile smugly.

“We’re the same,” you say soothingly. “I know just how it feels.”

“I can’t stop now,” the mutant hisses. “They’ll lock me up.”

“They locked me up too, and I didn’t even do anything,” you point out. “But when you get out, I can help you.”

She drops the lava monster guise and looks at you wondrously.

You wince when Peter’s shock web hits her in the back. She makes a sort of choked noise before keeling over. Something fragile inside you fractures as you see what you could have been. There’s a little too much of you inside that mutant.

The other mutant roars with anger and you turn, ready to burn it. But its anger is aimed at Spider-man, who landed the final blow, and he sweeps Cap and Tony away, throwing them into nearby rubble.

You dart in front of the monster and ready your fists, even if his biceps are bigger than your waist. He shoves you away and the breath leaves your lungs but you still manage to cling onto his arm like a koala and summon the anger to the surface. Your body goes white-hot in seconds and the second mutant roars with pain and slams his arm into the ground.

You feel your spine crack in multiple places as well as your tailbone—and your neck.

“Y/N!” Peter bellows when you don’t move. “NO!”

Something wet trickles down your neck as the bones arrange themselves back into place and you sit up, tears slipping from your eyes as you do so. Now you’re pissed off.

The mutant’s arm, you can see, has a nasty-looking burn on it in the shape of your body. You relish the sight of it as you take a running start at the mutant, plowing into his back and sending him flying, landing on the ground and skidding a few feet. Since you’re half his height, it must have been a comical sight.

Peter lands in front of you and holds out his hand, which you notice is shaking. “Are you okay?”

You don’t nod your head. You’re scared that just moving it will break your back again. You might have broken your arm and ankle before, but never your neck and back. You’re going to have nightmares about it for weeks to come, you already know.

“You can cool down now,” he says softly. You realize you’re still glowing white-hot.

With a strangled sob, you let go of the anger-heat and fall into his arms, squeezing him so hard you’re sure he would have a few broken ribs if he wasn’t enhanced.

“How bad did he hurt you?” Peter asks, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“It would have killed anyone except me,” you whisper back. And that’s all you have to say on the subject. You move to step back from him and gasp. The mutant is up and angrier than ever. He’s picking up a chunk of plaster with a few copper wires protruding from its multiple sides. He’s hoisting it above his head. And he’s throwing it at you two.

You hear multiple screams as you shove Peter out of the way, but the ginormous rock hits you in the stomach. As if in slow motion, you flip backwards, the plaster rolling with you, and hit the ground, skidding a bit. The plaster still sits on your stomach, making it nearly impossible to breathe, which means you don’t have the strength to push it off of you.

Oh God. Asphyxiation is one thing the serum can’t help you with. For the first time in your life, you might actually die from an injury.

You weakly wiggle, trying to get the plaster to tip off of you, but that causes a stinging sensation in your sternum that’s almost unbearable. Your back is getting wet. One of the copper wires must have entered your stomach.

You try to suck in a breath but barely get more than a gasp. The effort makes you cough, your throat tasting metallic.

The serum can’t work if I can’t breathe, you distantly realize. It’s a part of my bodily functions now, but my body can’t function at all without oxygen.

So you’re going to die. It’s as simple as that.

This time, when you suck in a breath, you cough on a liquid in your throat, choking as you can’t get any air in and becoming more panicked as your vision becomes more blurry. You try to blow the liquid out of your throat but you don’t have enough strength to blow hard, so all that happens is that you’re completely out of air now. You thrash on the ground but the plaster refuses to move.

Your vision goes dark. Your stomach drops. Is this it? Are you going to die now? You never even got to make up with Peter, which you now realize you’d wanted to do all along.

Then the weight on your stomach lifts and you suck in a shuddering breath that just makes you cough and choke more. The darkness lifts from your vision, making you squint and realize that someone had been standing over you and lifted the plaster from your stomach.

The person turns you over onto your side and you spit blood out of your mouth as the pain in your stomach begins to abate. When you finally suck in a shuddering breath that clears your vision, hands cradle your face and you look up into Peter’s face. It’s a bit screwed up because he’s crying.

You blink slowly at him.

“Oh, my God,” he says as though from a long way away. “I thought you were going to die. Are you still bleeding? Can you breathe? Are you all right? Do you have brain damage? Wait, are you dead? Y/N, can you hear me?” He shakes you. His voice gets higher. “Y/N, you gotta respond to me or I’m gonna think you’re dead! Are you dead?”

You cough, splattering his face with more blood and mucus, and his lips thin as he wipes it off.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Your mask,” you croak weakly. Your eyes widen with realization. “Oh, God, your mask, Peter, people are gonna see you—”

“Thank God you’re all right,” he breathes, gathering you into a tight hug that has you gasping for air. His splayed hands on your back move up and down, probing for holes. “I think you’re okay.” He begins to rock back and forth, still holding you in his arms. “I thought you were going to die.”

Weakly, you wrap your arms around him and squeeze as hard as you can. You’re already feeling better. “Peter Parker, did you just save my life?”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He pulls back, beaming at you even though he’s still crying.

“I guess,” you say mock-reluctantly.

“Thank God,” he breathes. “Y/N, I like you.”

“What?” You blink.

“It’s all right if you don’t say it back,” he says, rushed. “Or if you don’t feel the same way at all. I just thought you should know.”

“No, I—”

“Y/N!”

Tony sweeps you off your feet, twirling you in a circle. “Oh my God, baby, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” you reply but don’t push him away. “Peter saved me.”

Tony picks up Peter’s discarded mask and shoves it into his favorite intern’s hands before sweeping him into the group hug too. “Does this mean you don’t hate him anymore?” he asks, beaming.

Peter pulls his mask on and turns away. You glance after him, frowning.

“What?” Tony asks, deflating. “Do you really still hate him?”

You tap Spider-man on the shoulder. Peter shrugs and says without looking back, “It’s fine, Y/N. I shouldn’t have expected anything else, considering what I did to you—”

You spin him around, lift his mask up to his nose, and fit your mouth against his.

When you pull back, his mouth stays open as he gapes at you.

“I never said I didn’t feel the same way,” you say, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Seriously?” he squeals. Then he coughs and lowers his voice. “I mean, uh—seriously?”

You shake your head and smile before planting your lips on his again. And that’s how the media finds you two. And the internet kind of explodes for the next two hours. It turns out a lot of people have been shipping you two for a while now.

Inferno Taglist:

@paullrud @eridanuswave @loveissupernatural @moistpotatobear @oh-annaa

Peter Parker x Reader Taglist:

@iconicbabesss

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 184

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 36 - “Go for the Goal! Marathon Race” Date watched: 13 May 2020 Original air date: 14 October 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/hrE6zQT Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Gamabunta is that you?

This show has been on a pretty good run lately. We had the vacation arc, haunted school, our festival fun, a day in the life of Urara, some romantic developments, Rin entering the wedding industry, and Karen as a knight. The defeats of Girinma and Arachnea were both suitably epic and inspiring. Well forget all that because it’s a Gamao episode and in true Gamao form, he ruins any goodwill we may have had for him. He can’t even do a last chance black mask monster transformation episode well. Let’s take a look.

The Plot

Cinq Lumieres Academy is having an all-grade level 4 kilometer race, and Nozomi is trying to get out of participating, but Rin keeps insisting she practice. Rin doesn’t have a lot of time TO practice with Nozomi, between her responsibilities to the Futsal Club and having to tend to the family store. More on this later, because it’s time to flimsily set up Nightmare’s scheme this episode.

Gamao is sitting on a bench when he’s approached by Kawarino. Gamao begs the senior executive for a management position at Nightmare but Kawarino remarks that his accomplishments so far amount to nothing. He says maybe he could change his mind if he were to obtain the Dream Collet, and considers giving Gamao the black paper, but decides not to before he disappears. However, Gamao discovers that Girinma "accidentally” left it behind for him, and is convinced he’ll be able to get into upper management. As he runs off to enact his plan, Kawrino reappears and snidely remarks to himself that he doesn’t have much faith in the frog.

We return to Nozomi and Rin’s running practice A few key shots of Rin show that she’s extremely tired but pressing on, because she really wants to repeat her first place title from last year. Karen notices this and decides that they should all join in the practice, so the next day when they run the practice course, all five girls and even Coco and Nuts are present. They begin to climb to a hill that could rival anything in San Francisco, and Nozomi starts to give up, but as she stops to encourage her friend, Rin succumbs to fatigue and collapses.

Everyone gets Rin back to Natts House and when she’s feeling better, she opens up to Nozomi, saying she wanted to do for Nozomi what Nozomi did for her when they were in elementary school. We flash back to a time in their youth when the school had a race, and Rin was the favorite to win, but she tripped and fell and almost gave up running entirely until Nozomi caught up to her and encouraged her to finish the race together. Nozomi promises to do her best in the race for Rin’s sake.

It’s important to note that the route for this race leaves the Cinq Lumieres campus and gets into the town (which I am realizing has never been named). There are signs along the route that point the way, and Gamao has taken a position as a sign holder at a junction. When he sees the Precures coming, he turns the sign to divert them off the route away from the other students, and when he has them all gathered in a dead end forest, he turns the ground into a beyblade arena crater and makes his presence known. When they naturally refuse to hand over the Dream Collet, he transforms and so do they. He tries to mow them over like Tasmanian Devil, zooming around the pit like fat beyblade.

I’m not kidding that’s his plan

The Precures are understandably tired as they’ve been running, but after he mocks them for running for no reason, Dream gets riled up and retorts that trying hard at something isn’t pointless at all, and then they all kick his ass. He pulls out his black paper, but clearly he wasn’t aware of the side effects when it latches onto his face and turns him giant. Now a giant, mindless toad monster, he leaps into the air and comes crashing down on Lemonade, Mint, and Aqua. He smooshes Rouge as well, and then tries to attack the fairies, who are watching from the edge of the pit.

Dream manages to catch his tongue before he can hurt them, and the other Cures emerge, one beneath each foot, lifting him up and throwing him into the wall. With Milk’s help, they summon the Symphony Set and perform Precure Five Explosion, finishing Gamao off once and for all. He will not be missed.

They make their way back to the race route and realize as they turn back into the school grounds that they’re in last place, ruining Rin’s chances at a repeat victory. However, she’s happy enough that she gets to finish together with her friends, just like she did all those years ago. Nozomi declares a race to the finish and sprints across the finish line ahead of everyone else as the episode closes out.

The Analysis

As you may have gathered from my introduction, I don’t have a very high opinion on this episode. Sure, it has some nice character beats, but it doesn’t introduce anything new or build on any facets we haven’t seen before, except to give us another reason why Nozomi and Rin are close friends. It’s not offensively bad or anything, I don’t think there’s any episodes that I outright hate in this franchise, but it’s bottom tier for this show. There’s very little narrative payoff to Rin’s plot in the episode. She overworked herself to the point of collapsing to motivate Nozomi, and ultimately Nozomi did internalize the importance of the race from Rin’s perspective, which she repeated during the battle. It’s nice but I’ve grown to expect more meaningful declarations during these pivotal villain defeat episodes than “I helped her as a kid and she wants to help me now.” The whole point of Five Explosion is a manifestation that they’re stronger together than apart, but this episode isn’t about the full team’s unity, so it falls flat. If it hadn’t been Gamao’s send-off I might have liked it a smidge better, or if it had been Hadenya attacking instead, or even Bunbee, then it may have made sense.

Moving over to Gamao, for a black mask final battle, this fell far short of what Girinma and Arachnea put the girls through. He didn’t seem any more threatening than a strong Kowaina, he only really got in one attack on the girls as a monster before they took him down with Five Explosion. He had a pretty cool effect of being so massive and fast that he generated really fast air currents but they didn’t do any damage to anyone. This battle is a ton of wasted potential. The best part of the fight was actually before he used the black mask. Spinning around the arena like he did was clever, and it worked better than just about anything else he’s ever done. Gamao’s shortfalling is that he’s lazy and shortsighted, he wants to take the easy way out, his plans amount to simply beating the girls up and that’s it. Compare this to Bloody from the previous episode, who nearly talked Nuts into just handing it over, and well, Gamao comes out of this unfavorably. About the only good thing I can say about him is that his black mask form looks really cool, and it’s huger than any we’ve seen so far. I really wish they’d used it more. If they’d swapped him out with Girinma in episodes 23-24 I would have liked that a lot more, it would give Gamao a better sendoff and it feels more appropriate that the weakest villain is the first to go. Alas.

Lastly, the art quality in this episode is in the toilet and that might be the biggest factor in making it seem underwhelming. The characters appear grossly deformed and oddly proportioned a lot.

Even when they’re kicking Gamao’s ass in the fight, which is a series of dynamic still frames, the quality is poor. There’s a shot when Coco and Nuts step in to announce that they’ll be running with the girls, and their models just bounce into the frame like they leaped into the air and landed, rather than stepping. It was bad and kind of hilarious by the same token.

This episode feels like an afterthought on both the writing and animation standpoint. The last few have been so-so in visual quality and if you’ve been following along, you know that’s normal for this point in the show, and of course it’s nowhere near as bad as Max Heart could get, but this is an episode that should have had weight to it, and to see it squandered like this makes me sad.

On the upside I will say I enjoy the little back and forth between Nozomi and Milk, ever butting heads. Milk tells Nozomi that they can all do their best in the practice run, while sitting comfortably in Nuts’s bag being kind of a slouch herself. It was amusing.

Speaking of slouches, Coco probably should go for more runs, because next episode he’s putting on some weight after eating a diet of nothing but cream puffs. Look forward to more on that!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 Kettei!

P.S. dear Pretty Cure Splash Subs: your meme subs are not funny.

[chocafe]

— hyunsuk as your boyfriend

pairing: boyfriend!hyunsuk x reader a/n: requested + a majority of this was just hyunsuk asking you out, so i apologize if that isn’t your guys cup of tea! (it sure is my cup of tea though)

hyunsuk is like a walking tree

he’s tall . . . way too tall

whenever he holds your hand

he would have to slightly bend his knees to grab a hold of them

this also applies to kisses!

when kissing hyunsuk, you would have to stand on the tip of your toes while he would have to lower the upper part of his body

this may explain why the majority of your guys make out sessions take place on the couch

since a height difference isn’t much of a problem when you’re sitting

argues with hyunsuk occurs on a daily basis

but it’s not as deep as you may think of it as

they’re usually small / pointless arguments like

you: pineapples deserve to be on pizza

hyunsuk: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING NO THEY DO NOT

you: let me be player one

hyunsuk: no! i want to be player one and you were player one last time!

you: hyunsuk… juST GIVE ME THE CONTROLLER

hyunsuk: BUT I LIKE LOOKING AT THE TOP SCREEN THAN THE BOTTOM SCREEN

you: JUST LET ME BE PLAYER ONE ALREADY

hyunsuk’s selfies? A+

your selfies? A+

“why?” you may ask

it’s because hyunsuk is the one taking the photo for you

hyunsuk’s selfie game is so strong, that he takes photos for you for your instagram page

and when you want to post a selfie onto your story

he would hold the phone for you while you’re just there posing, pretending that it’s you who’s actually taking the photo

you both rarely have indoor dates

since the two of you are still so young and youthful

a variety of your guys dates tend to be more on the playful side

dates includes:

going to the arcade and spending endless amount of money

roaming around hongdae

hitting up the nearest karaoke room

lastly, going to the bowling alley and instead of playing leisurely

the two of you would start a competition and have the loser pay for dinner

“HAH, YOU LOSER! I WON, SO LET’S GO GET SOME SUSHI!” hyunsuk screams on the top of his lungs as he drapes his arm over your shoulder

hyunsuk loves to randomly kiss you on the cheek ପ(꒪ˊ꒳ˋ꒪)ଓ

he does this because he purely wants to kiss you

but also ! ! ! because he loves to see you blush and become startled by his sudden action

“stop!” you shout, placing your hand on the cheek that hyunsuk had just planted a kiss on top of. “does it not phase you that we’re in public?”

“i’m your boyfriend, so why should i care about what strangers think about us?” he quickly kisses the other side of your cheek and then begins to dash off into the distance

“hyunsuk, get over here!” you run after him as your cheeks and ears begin to blush even more than before

a lot of people mistake you and hyunsuk as best friends instead of an actual couple

“i wish i had a friendship like your guys.” the barista comments as she overhears the two of you bickering and poking fun at one another

“friendship?” hyunsuk questions, looking at you and then right back at the barista. “we’re dating each other.”

“oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! i couldn’t tell!”

the two of you don’t mind when events like this occur

since you and hyunsuk were best friends before dating ♡

cue the friends to lovers genre tag

confession ➯ how the two of you started dating

before this amazing relationship, the two of you started off as best friends

since you both are young, it was quite difficult for the both of you to realize your feelings for one another and you guys also constantly confused this feeling with friendship instead of love

hyunsuk used to roll in his bed and softly punch his pillows whenever he would imagine you being his lover

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND HYUNSUK STOP THINKING LIKE THAT”

for you, whenever your friends would ask you to set them up on a blind date with hyunsuk

you would abruptly become furious by this thought because you wanted to keep hyunsuk all to yourself

“y/n, come on! will you help me out?”

“the truth is,” you paused for a short moment to come up with a lie. “he’s actually flirting with someone right now, so i don’t think now is the right time for me to set you up on a date with him.”

hyunsuk didn’t ask you out until his fellow members brought up this ongoing issue

“you spend a lot of time with y/n, don’t you?” jinyoung asked out of curiosity. “why don’t you just date them already?”

“we spend a lot of time with each other, but we’re just best friends. nothing more than that.” hyunsuk responds back, not putting much thought into his response nor the conversation

“woah! are you serious?” seunghun unexpectedly joins the conversation with his jaw falling wide opened. “you mean there has never been a time where you’ve romantically thought of y/n as your lover before?”

hyunsuk becomes speechless, not knowing how to respond back without reddening up. “uh─ well, there have been a few times…”

with the help of his members, hyunsuk quickly realizes his feelings for you and takes the leap to ask you out

promptly after the conversation, hyunsuk calls you and the two of you schedule to meet each other at the park that following night

“hey, hyunsuk!” you yell out loud as you spot him in the lonesome park. “you freaking idiot! this better be important or i’m going to punch you for wasting my time.”

rather than barking right back at you, hyunsuk blurts out “have you ever thought of me in a way that you never thought you have?”

your taken aback by hyunsuk’s serious side, but you still continue to brush off the entire situation. “what do you mean?”

“have you ever thought of me as your boyfriend before?”

you let a few seconds past before you give off a fake laugh to hide the awkward tension in the air. “what are you saying? we’re best friends, so that would be gross.” you lightly slap his arm, trying your best to seem playful because you had absolutely no idea what was happening at that very moment

“y/n, be serious.” he walks even closer to you, breaking the gap in between. “because i have.”

“w-what did you just say?”

he repeats himself, but rephrases it, so you’re able to understand. “i’ve thought of you being my significant other before. actually, quite a few times.”

“hyUNSUK, I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME.” you couldn’t help, but to blow up at how dense he could be sometimes. “i mean, i don’t know what’s happening right now.”

“i think i like you. that’s what’s happening right now.” hyunsuk inhales a big breath of air as he can already feel already becoming shaky. “i’ve been hiding this particular feeling and burying it within me because i just don’t want to lose you as a friend, but i guess this is worth a shot.”

you would have never thought that hyunsuk thought of you in this way

“well… i have thought of us dating before─”

“should we try it out?” hyunsuk interrupts you, not letting you finish your sentence

“try what out?”

“we can try dating.” for the first time ever, he feels nervous in front of you and proceeds to avoid eye contact with you. “it seems like we both have some sort of feelings for one another, so what are we going to lose? we still have each other and if things don’t work out then we can just continue being friends.”

“sure…” you softly whisper as you feel your face suddenly burning up

“are you serious?” hyunsuk’s eyes brighten up as he watches you nod your head up and down in response. “y/n, i’ll treat you well! i promise you!”

similar to a giant dog, hyunsuk embraces you into a big hug as he’s been waiting for this very moment

you slowly bring your arms up to hug him in return, hoping that hyunsuk isn’t able to hear your beating so loudly

if things didn’t work out well then the two of you agreed to continue being friends

but the bright side to this all is that

things are perfectly fine and the two of you have fell even deeper in love with one another