#but we also see him on his morning jog and he doesn’t talk to anyone there

[ropebunnykant]

i feel like fighting off people who think fadel and bison are in on it together to try and figure style and kant out are just fighting off people who aren’t paying attention. cause like even IF pin theory is true and even IF fadel has complete ulterior motives in saying yes to style, it’s so clear they’re not actually formulating this plan together??

like yes fadel tried to tell bison to take care of kant but they literally tell each other they’re dating their respective guys in the same scene and neither of them seem under the impression the other has ulterior motives? if anything fadel would probably be a lot happier for bison in that scene if he thought he was being more cautious, but the whole thing is that even though bison DOESNT trust kant, he’s very obviously not letting fadel in on that. like he even brushes fadel off about kant drugging him and then proceeds to ask kant that directly! like whatever is going on, they’re not working together on it, and bison especially is not about to let fadel knows he thinks kant is up to something.

and same honestly goes for thinking fadel was faking the confession, like god no i don’t think he trusts style, but we quite literally see fadel missing style throughout the episode. we KNOW he was being honest? he can not trust style and also genuinely have feelings for him and want to be with him. that’s very clearly where both the brothers are at.

the only part of that theory that has any actual validity is the pin but even that i’ve been over would be a dumb place for bison to place a tracker or bug because he has no control over what kant does with it. it’s much more likely he’s placed one in kant’s apartment or car or something like that, somewhere HE can control. like seriously y’all think mr. control issues would use something he has no control over to keep tabs on kant? absolutely not!

[rubytuby]

surprise

patrick zweig x fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k (LOL)

warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.

note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.

FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.

You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.

Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”

You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”

“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”

“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”

Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.

“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.

As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.

“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”

Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.

“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.

“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”

“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.

Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.

Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 

Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.

“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.

“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick’s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”

“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.

Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.

“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.

"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.

"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."

Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."

"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.

You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.

"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."

"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.

As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.

You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.

Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.

"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.

Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.

Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.

“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.

Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."

You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.

Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.

You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.

After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.

"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.

Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.

As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.

You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.

"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back

Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.

You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.

Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.

You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.

Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."

As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."

Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.

You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”

He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.

You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.

"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.

You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."

Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."

"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.

With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.

Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.

Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.

Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"

Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.

Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.

Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."

[ominouslywritinginmyhead]

A little present for @anonimusunnoaniswriting based on a conversation we had a long time ago.

Sending you lots of love Noni ❤️

Notes and warnings: f!reader, profanity, suggestive moments but nothing really nsfw, no beta we die like Daichi

Life sucks.

Your boss is a power-hungry, profit-horny dick who refuses to give you a decent raise or more time off, your coworkers are so incompetent that you’ve been cleaning up their messes since your TRAINING PERIOD, your utility bills have gone up again, and your air conditioner is starting to smell funny.

It doesn’t help that your washing machine broke down literally two hours before you accidentally spilled soup all over yourself.

Yeah, life sucks.

So here you are, stuck in the local laundromat at midnight, having shoved a soggy and soupy blouse and jeans into the washer with the rest of your clothes almost half an hour ago, spending precious 100-yen coins on salvaging what’s left of your sanity. There’s nobody around, and while your neighbourhood is relatively safe, you don’t like being out so late - even if you’re just two buildings away from home.

I should’ve waited until morning, you scold yourself. But you have work tomorrow and you’re almost out of office-appropriate shirts. You desperately need something for the morning, and heaven knows when the repair guy will be able to fix your washing machine.

The automatic door slides open, and a tall, muscular man with dark spiky hair walks in with his own pile of laundry. It’s the guy from the building opposite yours, Iwaizumi something-or-the-other, and just seeing him makes you want to crawl into the earth and never come out again.

Of all the times you see the resident hottie, it just HAD to be now, when you’re in an old, crumpled tee and sweatpants, wearing Cinnamoroll slippers. Your hair is a wreck too, uncombed and held back by clips you’ve been using for at least five years. At least there’s no soup on your clothes.

Why is he wearing a fucking tank top???? And has he gotten more muscular since the last time you saw him two weeks ago????

Ugh. Life sucks.

Even so, you can’t help staring when he walks through the laundry room and starts chucking his own clothes into the machine. His broad shoulders, his veiny arms, his legs, his hard face…fuck, you’re down bad. You don’t even care that he’s frowning all the time. You just care about that jaw you could cut your finger on.

Life may suck, but at least there’s a Greek God living in your neighbourhood.

You watch as he inserts some coins into the machine and adjusts the settings on the washer before pressing START with his thumb, and your mind immediately conjures up a fantasy of him stroking your lower lip with the exact same thumb - which is enough to make your brain short-circuit and set your face on fire.

The worst part is that Iwaizumi chooses that exact moment to look around and see you on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. Shit.

“Hey,” he says quietly, and you almost choke on your own saliva. The Iwaizumi, saying hello to you?

It takes everything you’ve got to not turn around and check if there’s anyone behind, just in case he was saying hey to the wall and not you. “Uh…hi, Iwaizumi-san,” you manage, mouth dry.

Great start.

Iwaizumi rarely says more than this. He turns back to his laundry and you expect that’s the end of that, when he glances over his shoulders, laundry room light flickering in his eyes. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

HE’S TALKING TO YOU????

“I…yeah, I’ve been busy with work.” Technically, that’s true, but you’ve also spent the last few weeks despairing in your room about the state of the world and your personal life. That doesn’t leave much time for neighbourhood events or going anywhere except the convenience store behind your apartment building. Plus, you’ve really been cutting it close with your work commutes these days, leaving later and later from your apartment. Which means you don’t get to see Iwaizumi jogging in the mornings, his normally serious expression softened in the morning light.

“What did you say you do again?” He asks. You have a vague memory of telling him about your job at some neighbourhood cleanup your friend talked you into joining earlier this year, but you tell him again anyway.

“What about you?” You ask, checking the timer on the washer. Three minutes. You’re not sure if you want those three minutes to go faster or slow down. At least you’re talking somewhat normally and not in those weird squeaks that left your mouth the first time you had a conversation with him last year.

“Physical training,” he answers briefly. “I work with athletes and coaches and stuff. Used to be an athlete myself.”

That explains why he’s so buff. The part of your brain that’s stuck in fantasyland now thinks it’s a great idea to imagine Iwaizumi wearing a fitted t-shirt that displays his firm arms and washboard abs and—

Stop that, you scold yourself. This is not the time!

Two minutes. Just two more minutes. You can dry your clothes at home.

You lick your lips. Why must they be so dry? “Do you, uh, come here often?”

“Often enough,” he says. “The machines here are bigger than what I have at home. You?”

“Not really,” you admit, “but my washing machine just broke down today, and there was a bit of an emergency, so…” You trail off, hoping he won’t push further.

“Ah, gotcha.” He looks at you sympathetically. “Hope whatever stains you have come off easily.”

“I hope so too.” You threw your clothes in the sink as fast as you could to scrub the stains off, but stopping yourself from getting soup burns was a little more important at the time, so you’re not sure what’s going to happen.

Only one way to find out.

The buzzer goes off, and your clothes are ready. Hauling the washer door open, you start yanking things out and shoving them into your laundry basket. Everything’s still damp, but the faster you can put things away the faster you can go home and stop fantasising about the man standing a few feet away and his voice and his jaw and his hands and his—

Hold it RIGHT there, buddy; you don’t wanna think of what’s in his pants NOW.

That part can be saved for later, preferably when alone in bed.

You’re so preoccupied with putting your clothes away that you barely register the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind. It’s no big deal.

And then you hear Iwaizumi say your last name.

Still holding the basket, you turn so quickly that you don’t see just how close he is to you…which has you crashing into him, laundry and all, sending half your clothes jumping out of the basket.

You almost fall back as you collide with his rock-hard abs, but he catches you just in time. Unfortunately, that’s worse, because now you have his muscular arms around you, those large hands with callused fingers pressed against your back, holding you a little too close to him, your bodies so close you can see every little mark and bump on his face and neck and shoulders.

And you can see one more thing, having flown out of your laundry basket in the chaos and landed on his neck:

Your lacy black bra with the little ribbon in the middle.

The bra you bought on sale last March. The bra you once said was “the perfect mix of sexy and sophisticated.” The bra that was specifically launched for Valentine’s Day.

As the saying goes, life sucks.

Kill me, you plead to whatever higher power is up there. You don’t believe in the existence of said higher power, but you need one to exist right now. Just kill me, please, I am BEGGING you.

Of all the clothes that could have landed on your longtime crush, it just had to be the Valentine Dreams Limited Edition one.

Why? And why did it have to happen to you?

Life REALLY sucks right now.

“Uh…” Iwaizumi goes tomato-red as he gingerly peels the bra off his tank top. “Here you go.”

“Th-thanks,” you stammer, grabbing the bra and shoving it deep into the basket, your face on fire once again. One of Iwaizumi’s hands is still on your back, and fuck, the warmth of his fingers is sending a tingle down your spine. HELP, you scream internally. SOMEONE KILL ME. PLEASE.

Thankfully, the next best thing happens: Iwaizumi lets you go. Immediately, you pick up all the fallen clothes and put them back where they belong, slamming the basket lid shut for good measure.

Iwaizumi hasn’t moved. When you finally get your bearings, you look at him and bite your lip. “I’m sorry about that,” you say.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replies. “I shouldn’t have startled you. I…I wanted to ask you something, but I guess I should’ve waited a bit.”

“Ask me what?” You say, gaping at him. The two of you have hardly spoken beyond the occasional neighbourhood gathering and the handful of times you’ve encountered each other while he’s on his morning jog and you’re heading to work. What could he possibly want to ask you?

He takes a deep breath, the redness of his cheeks fading to a light pink. “I…I wanted to ask…if you’d like to go on a date with me one of these days.”

The laundromat goes silent, the humming of the machine with Iwaizumi’s clothes disappearing into nothingness as his words echo around you,

A date. With Iwaizumi.

A DATE.

A DATE.

You blink at him once, twice, three times. “I…what?” Your mouth and brain aren’t coordinating with each other, and you could scream in frustration.

If Iwaizumi notices anything odd, he doesn’t say. “I know, it’s, uh, kinda weird, because we haven’t really talked much.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But, uh, I’d really like to get to know you better, and take you out on a date. If you’re interested, that is.”

He…he wants to WHAT????

Get to know you? You? Are you hearing this right or is it just a figment of your imagination?

The way he looks at you now…this is the first time you’ve seen him without a scowl or frown or neutral-bordering-on-frowning expression. You see his eyes soften as he watches you, a tiny bit of hope on his face as he waits for your answer.

The Iwaizumi. Neighbourhood hottie and guy you’ve had a crush on since the day you first saw him jogging in the neighbourhood. And now, the man who has just asked you out - even though your bra almost landed on his face just minutes ago.

And you are interested. Even if the sputtering sounds you’re making right now convince him you’re breaking down. The question is, how do you turn these sounds into something coherent?

“If-if you’re not interested, then you don’t have to force yourself,” Iwaizumi adds hastily. “I won’t feel bad if you say no, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Wha—” Shit, you have to fix this right now, before he assumes you’ve turned him down. “Y-y-yes,” you finally manage. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” you add in one breath.

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to blink. “Really?”

You nod, not trusting your tongue anymore.

“That’s, uh, that’s great,” he says. “Can I…can I get your number? We can plan something for the weekend.”

In response, you practically shove your phone at him. He doesn’t even flinch as it presses against his stomach. Fuck, he’s strong.

He enters his number in your phone, and you add yours to his. When you look at his contact details, you finally learn his full name.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

You wonder what it would be like to call him Hajime. Every time you’ve spoken, you’ve just used each other’s last names. He’s always been Iwaizumi-san to you.

“So, uh…see you around?” He says, looking down at your full name.

“Yeah…see you, Iwaizumi-san.” You give him the tiniest of smiles, your heart racing.

As you take yourself and the laundry basket out of the laundromat, you hear him call your name again. “Yes?” You say, turning around.

He gives you a small smile back. “Call me Hajime.”

Maybe life doesn’t suck after all.

****

“Soooo…what did she say?”

Iwaizumi struggles to hide his irritation at Oikawa’s shit-eating grin. Is it possible to punch someone over video call? “She said yes,” is all he tells the annoyance he’s known all his life. “We’re going out this weekend.”

“That’s nice. I’m really happy for you, Iwa-chan.”

“Thanks.” Iwaizumi can’t help the smile on his face as he thinks about you. Sure, the bra incident was embarrassing as fuck, but maybe the two of you will be able to laugh at that someday. That is, if you’re both able to make it through the first date.

Even in those casual clothes, you looked so adorable. Your fluffy Cinnamoroll slippers, locks of your hair spilling out of the hairclip, your eyes shining as you smiled at him…he can’t wait to see you again. And again. And again.

“Awww, Iwa-chan’s in looooooove~”

“Shut up, Shittykawa!”

[mothfables]

♡ Bunny Flops ♡ - Part Three

Here we are at the end! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it &lt;3

The third time it happens, they’ve found themselves in the Veteran’s home era. Several hours of walking mixed with dodging knights (making Sky and Warriors scowl) later and everyone is all too eager to crash at Legend’s house with its’ numerous soft blankets and pillows that the Vet insists he has no use for but keeps around anyway. Warriors teases him for being a hoarder but they all know how soft the seasoned hero is inside.

(Warriors also has the suspicion it also helps with Legend’s chronic pain and bad joints, but Legend would literally rather be hit over the head with a moblin club than admit such a thing. That’s fine. He’ll just ask Ravio.)

Finally, the house is in sight and Legend speeds up as much as his aching joints will allow. He can’t wait to see his orchard and his garden, to coo to Sheerow and talk with Ravio, to lay in his own bed and drink his own tea, to get up when he wants and not some ungodly hour of the morning, and and and-

And the door is opening and Ravio is there, dark curls catching the afternoon sun as he turns to see who’s coming up the road. Legend’s speedwalk turns into a half-hop, half-jog as he hurries towards his partner. Ravio gives a shout of delighted surprise and copies him.

(Legend is sure it must look very odd, to anyone who isn’t them, but they’ve always done this - since they first began to like each other as people, since they became actual friends, since they agreed to be partners, not just best friends.)

Ravi likes to joke that it’s just another bit of proof they’re each other’s mirror. ‘Rabbits in a burrow,’ he’d tease as Legend pouted.

Then Ravio is reaching for him, checking him over and tutting as he notices the newest accumulation of injuries and overall exhaustion. Legend simply leans into him, relishing in the sensation of his partner’s care. After a moment he jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the group still coming up the road behind him.

“Got room for eight more, Rav?” He smirks tiredly. Ravio titters, gently taking his arm and waving to the Chain as they make their way towards the couple.

“We’ll just be inside! You know where things are; make yourselves at home,” he calls. Then, more quietly, “Come on, bunny. Let’s get you off your feet, yeah?” Legend gives a token grumble for the show of it but follows Ravio’s lead as his partner tugs him through the door and into the house.

Once inside, Ravio leads him over to one of the plush chairs by the fireplace, waiting until Legend lowers himself into it before busying himself with lighting the fire and setting their beat-up old kettle on the stove. He pulls down Legend’s favourite mug: a slightly misshapen thing painted with apple blossoms. It had been a gift, given to him years ago, and something he treasures to this day. As the water boils, Ravio comes back over to check on his partner. Legend greets him with a tired smile before glancing at the fire, then at Ravio, hoping he’ll get the hint. He does; giving a dramatic sigh, the merchant gathers an armful of pillows and blankets and arranges them into a small - but cozy - nest before the fire.

The kettle whistles and Ravio scurries back to the kitchen, leaving Legend to drag himself out of the chair with a drawn-out groan. His limbs shake from the effort but before he can collapse Sky swoops over and catches him. The other hero helps him stumble over to the nest and down into it, then not-unkindly swats his hands away from where they fumble at the laces of his boots.

Once his boots are off Legend moves to get comfortable, rearranging the blankets to his liking as he scoots closer to the fire. At the same time, the rest of the Chain scatter around the living room as they finish settling in. Sky and Warriors sit near the nest, sharing a smile when their tired younger brother accepts their presence with nothing more than a glance and a roll of his eyes.

It doesn’t take long before Ravio reappears from the kitchen with a now-steaming mug in his hands. He hands it to Legend - making sure the other boy can hold it without trouble - before circling the nest a few times. He fluffs pillows and readjusts blankets before giving a happy hum and toes off his shoes to join Legend in the center of it.

Legend immediately leans into him, giving a contented hum of his own at the extra warmth. Ravio presses a kiss to his hair and the Vet’s eyes slip shut. “Ah ah, drink your tea first, love,” Ravio chides. Legend gives a tired whine, the sound pulling on Sky’s heartstrings. “I know, but it’ll help your joints. Come on, bunny, no falling asleep just yet.” Legend huffs grumpily at the order but complies.

Sky can see the stress and exhaustion leaving his little brother’s body as he sips at his tea. As he drinks, his eyes droop and he leans more and more heavily into Ravio. For his part, the merchant bears the added weight with ease, as if this is something that’s happened many times before. Sky gets the feeling it has.

His ear flicks at the sound of Wind’s pictobox. He turns to shoot a Look at the Sailor, who has the grace to look sheepish at his actions. (Sky will be getting a copy of that picture later, but now is not the time. He doesn’t want Legend getting embarrassed and forcing his aching joints to move because of it.) Luckily, the Vet doesn’t seem to notice. He’s done with his tea by now, barely holding onto his mug as he inches closer to sleep with every second.

Ravio reaches to grab it but Wars beats him to it. Gently taking the cup from limp hands, he gives the merchant a warm smile. “I’ll take care of it, you just let him sleep, yeah?” After a moment Ravio nods before turning back to the sleepy hero on his shoulder, leaving Warriors to stand and make his way to the kitchen unimpeded. He glances at the mug in his hands as he walks; it’s a simple thing that’s easy to hold and decorated in lovely pink blossoms. Apple blossoms, if he remembers correctly. It’s something that’s obviously been used and loved for a long time. The thought brings a smile to his face.

Returning to the living room, Wars is just in time to see Legend sliding off of Ravio’s shoulder to land face first in the mass of blankets, where he squirms for a moment to get comfortable before relaxing again. Ravio gives a fond sigh, slipping off the hero’s hat and placing it to the side to press a kiss to strawberry-blonde locks.

Legend purrs quietly at the action, and Ravio’s cheeks glow softly in the firelight as he beams. Turning to Sky, he whispers, amazed and proud, “Link almost never lets himself get so relaxed. He must really trust you.”

And if that doesn’t hit Sky like a shock arrow to the heart. From the sudden intakes of breath and muffled sniffling behind him, he’s not alone.

Warriors retakes his seat beside Sky with a thump. “We will do our utmost best to continue to deserve that trust,” he swears solemnly, and Sky catches the glisten in his eye. Ravio glances at him, startled, before catching his gaze, suddenly serious. The Captain holds it calmly. For a moment neither moves before the merchant nods and looks away.

Sky lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

The matter settled, Ravio stretches his arms over his head with a sudden jaw-cracking yawn. He adjusts the blankets around them one final time before curling over- no, on top of his partner. Legend’s purring gets marginally louder at that; after a moment a second, deeper one joins in. A few minutes later both boys are fully relaxed, comfortable and warm and appearing near-boneless as they fall asleep curled up together.

The house is warm, and safe, and Sky lets himself drift off in the knowledge that his brothers are right where they need to be.

Click! goes the sound of Wind’s pictobox.

<<<<First : <<Previous

[localgardenweed]

Its almost 1AM I have a interview with Wendy’s at 10:30AM so im gonna talk about my random HWS Japan headcanons until I pass out

He need reading glasses, I know we see him in the show/manga wearing them and like he may like actually need them and just uses contacts but in my mind they are only for reading. His eyes aren’t what they used to be and he needs his little nerd glasses

He likes making those bento box cooking videos, he makes them for himself and his friends/partners. He finds a lot of ways to pass the time and this is one of many. He likes making the character bentos the most, they make him smile

Gardening. Imagine walking into his backyard and seeing him on his knees tending to his strawberries and radishes just LOOK AT HIMMM!! Not only does it save him money but also makes him feel accomplished when he gets a good harvest

He typically likes doing a lot of those DIY projects, making little shelves and furniture and god knows what. He goes online and sees what new project he can make today to keep himself busy

He is actively greying and has been dying his hair for AGES. He plucks out greying eyebrow hair and stubble and dyes his hair. If someone points out a grey hair he gaslights them into thinking its just the lighting or they’re imagining things. If anyone found out he dyed his hair you wouldn’t see them the next day /j

He tried to grow a mustache in his youth but it looked so bad he repressed the memories of it deep DEEP into his mind you will never find them man. He found old paintings of his mustache and couldn’t bare to witness them anymore he buried them in his basement never to be seen again

He actively works out, he takes a 5 mile jog every morning and evening and does some biking and swimming every other day. He likes to stay fit even though he really doesn’t have to anymore. He just likes to keep his body toned. He also likes the cringe 1980’s American workout videos. He got a VHS set from America on his birthday and felt that he basically called him fat but no America just needed to get rid of them so just regifted them to him. He ended up liking them though so ig it worked out in the end

As well practices his swordsmanship, like dude we are in the modern day you do not need to know how to use a katana anymore but he does it anyway cause what if someone breaks in man you never know man una nunca sabè

Its right next to him every night and he is FAST, he even hears the slightest sound he jumps up and gets ready to slice you in half

Him and Prussia and very good friends (or maybe more idk am i pushing my PruPan agenda? YES) and he keeps a empty room for him when he decides to crash at Japan’s place for the 5th time this year. He doesn’t mind him he is very tidy and always repays the favor somehow. They like to go out for lunch and do all of the above together. They like to exchange snacks like chips and drinks.

He almost sliced Prussia in half when he crept into his room to ask him for smth when he was asleep, he only chopped off a lock of his hair and nicked his nose but nothing serious. He profusely apologized for it after and Prussia was a little shocked for a but but laughed it off and was okay. He was a but sad about the hair but it’ll grow back. Prussia knocks loud as hell now if he wants Japan for smth and he’s asleep

He keeps little historical knick knacks around his house that he should probably donate but doesn’t cause “They’re still good to use!!” Even though its a thousand year old pot that should be a health hazard. He has been wearing the same damn yukata for almost 2 centuries now cause he only wears it once every other summer summer when he finds his buried in his storage and the local museums beg to have it but he’s too attached to it to let go

He wheels around Pochi in a stroller sometimes when he feels a little silly. He loves dressing Pochi up with bows and ties and bandannas and god knows what else. That dog has been out in so many outfits bro cant catch a break

If he were human he would either pursue photography full time, his dream would be to get his photos on build boards and magazine covers. Maybe he’d be a field photographer too, go out into nature and stuff

He already does photography as a hobby but could never really do it full time cause ya know country duties

And thats it thank you for coming its now almost 2 AM lets hope I don’t regret this

[emilyssky]

Chapter 4: City Lights And Past Lives.

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, chocking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"  

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."    

Minho's POV:

1 year ago.

I solved my phone back in my pocket, choosing to ignore Jisung's messages. I know I'm probably being a dick right now, but he's used to it and he understands. That's one of the things I like about him. He doesn't ask much, he simply knows. He knows when he has to push me and when he has to let me push myself. I take another puff of the remaining bits of my cigarette and throw it on the ground. I lift my hood, trying to protect the sides of my face from the cold, but I keep shivering. My brain is so numb right now that the physical pain is the only thing that I can feel. On days like this, I honestly miss being 16 and getting my ass kicked by my dad, cause at least then the pain in my body was stronger than the voices in my head. As the years went by I found other ways though. As much as I hated him, I got addicted to the pain. I used it as my own personal punishment. The self-loath that he caused me made me crave it. I found similar pain in things like drugs and alcohol and started getting off by inflicting pain on others. Girls I would use and dump, friends I would treat like shit, people that would try to help me that I would lie to. I did anything to remind myself that I had power. That I wasn't the scared little boy he would beat the shit out of. I wasn't someone who was only capable of kneeling and taking beatings. I was strong. I was in control. I wasn't the one in pain.

I didn't wanna deal with anything. Or anyone. And I know that running away from you're problems is not doing shit. I know that I have to go back and deal with this but right now, I just want the world to be quiet. I want everything to go away for a few minutes so that I can have some space to fucking breathe. I jog up the stairs that lead to the roof. I've been coming here whenever I wanted to just get away for a little. This place was already at the top of my 'fuck everything, I wanna be alone' list, but since that night, I've been coming here kinda hoping to see her again. I know that that's not actually what I want. I can't deal with another confrontation, but I want the silence that came with her. It was like all my walls were replaced with mirrors and as she talked my mind backed off more and more, leaving me completely alone, listening. I was listening. For the first time, someone didn't force me to talk about anything or explain myself. All I had to do was sit and listen to her comforting me. Reminding me that; it's going to be okay. After that night, her words lived in my head rent-free. You know how most people have a song that, whenever everything goes to shit, they just put their headphones on and simply listen to it, and for these 3-4 minutes everything else fades away. That's how I kept her in my mind. Like a comfort song that I've been having on repeat ever since then. I force my legs to climb the last flight of stairs, finally reaching the top. I tilt my head a bit, looking at the half-open door with confusion. It's almost 4 in the morning. I place my hand on the door handle, and just as I'm about to pull it even more open, a figure flashes through the small gap of the open door. I move my head further into the door's opening, narrowing my eyes, trying to spot the person again, but the moon being the only source of light, doesn't help. They step into my line of vision again. The long hair makes me realise that it's a girl. She extends her foot and lifts herself up in a fouetté,  which I instantly recognise. Her turns are surprisingly clean. Her body keeps moving around the roof, occasionally leaving my limited line of vision. Her back is facing me, not allowing me to see her face. I stand there behind the door, completely magnetised by her dance. She must be a student here. I lean a bit forward trying to catch a glimpse of her face as she jumps and turns. She bends her back backwards, her head and hands handing beautifully and I freeze. I realise that the huge amount of weed that I've smoked hasn't made me completely numb after all cause I swear I just felt my heart skipping a beat. Her eyes are closed as she stays in position, rolling her head and hands to the music that's probably coming from the Air-pods that are now visible in her ears. Her face twitches with emotion and my hold on the door tightens. It's her. Questions, questions, questions. So many questions run through my head. So many emotions overwhelm me. Fuck, I must be so too high right now. I've thought about her way more than I like to admit. Now she stands here, in front of me. And I don't move, I stay hidden behind the door, watching her dance with tears on her face. I don't wanna talk to her. I don't wanna know her name or why she's crying. I just wanna watch her. And the more I do the more my heart tightens cause the memories that she awakes hurt. She dances so much like Mia, that it's ridiculous, I swear I see her face at some point. I know that I only hurt myself more by sitting here and watching her but I'm completely mesmerised by the way she moves. She's the perfect combination of uncontrollable passion and technique. She's using so much power in such a tender and light way, that I'm jealous. I miss dancing like that. I miss the emotional freedom that I felt whenever I danced. I let myself slide down the side of the wall soundlessly, and rest my head against it. There she is again. My little mirror.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Y/n's POV: The next few days went by in a blur. Wake up, go to class, come home, practice, and go to sleep. Every day is basically the same but I'm not really bothered by it, routine is good, I like having a routine. It's safe. It doesn't make me anxious and everything is scheduled. Dance has been hard though. Correction after correction, my annoyance grew. I was making no progress.

.

.

.

"I don't know y/n. Isn't it a bit short?" Emma is standing in front of the mirror, tugging her tight blue dress down, unsuccessfully.

"Em, you look fucking amazing. Blue is the perfect colour for blondes, and you're boobs look incredible." I praise her in an attempt to boost her almost nonexistent confidence as I put my hoops on. "Seungmin is going to be hard from the minute you walk in, bet" I stand beside her in the mirror, taking a look at myself. We look completely different. She's wearing a blue strapless dress with white heels that make her almost as tall as I am. Her long blonde hair falls in loose curls down her bare back and her light makeup looks almost flawless. On the other hand, I'm wearing leather pants that are tight around my waist but a bit baggier around my thighs and a simple strapless black top. I've straightened my naturally curly hair and kept my makeup the same as every time with black eyeliner and a dark red colour on my lips.

"You're one to talk." She bumps her hip to mine "You're hot as hell"

"Stop" I roll my eyes, smiling at her.

"Is Chan picking us up?" She asks as she fills her purse with makeup and other stuff.

"Um no, Hyunjin's picking us up." I grab my jacket and walk to the living room. Emma follows shortly.

"Great, are they going to text you when-"

My phone interrupts her and we smile at each other. Hyunjin's name flashes across the screen. Wow, he's actually on time, that's a first. I answer and put him on speaker.

"We're here bitches." Hyunjin yells.

"We'll be down in five." I say and hang up.

"Let's go." Emma says with excitement and we walk out the door.

Felix rolls down his window from the passenger's seat and lets out a loud whistle. "Damn." He yells.

"Hello ladies," Hyunjin says as we enter the car.

"Hey," I say. "You're exactly on time. I'm proud of you.."

"Okay, you're both hot" Hyunjin comments as he drives off.

"You sound surprised. " Emma says and I giggle.

"You know what I mean" Hyunjin's eyes are focused on the road as he speaks.

"Is Jisoo not coming?" I ask.

"No, Seungmin only invited us, and since I don't really know them that long I didn't wanna push it and ask to bring someone else. Plus, we're not 'together ' together anyway." he shrugs.

"Come on now, you've been seeing each other for like, a year and you're completely obsessed with her." They've been fucking around for so long but even though they never made it official, we all know that they have feelings for each other.

"I'm not, shut up" Hyunjin tries to contain his smile.

After a few minutes, we pull to an apartment complex.

"It's not far from our apartment. " Emma comments as walks to the door.

"We could stay over at your place if we get too wasted and none of us can drive. It's like 10 minutes away." Hyunjin says.

"Sure, we'll probably have an extra bed anyway 'cause Em will hopefully not come home tonight."  I wrap my hand around her shoulders.

"If you're anything like that in front of him, I'll physically hurt you." She attempts to threaten me but both me and the boys just laugh.

The music can be heard from down the hall, and we had to ring the bell at least 5 times before a guy opened the door.

"Hi" he smiles at us.

"Hi, Jeongin" Emma gives him a quick hug. The guys simply nod at him and follow Emma inside the apartment.

"Hi, I'm y/n" I shake his hand.

"I know, Chan told me you were coming. It's nice to meet you, I'm Jeongin" He has a nice smile. He's tall, with dark hair, brown eyes, and perfect eyebrows. He looks like he could be a model.

I take a step to his left, inside."Is Chan here?" I lean into him a bit cause it's so crowded in here that I could easily get lost.

"Yeah, I think he's in the kitchen." He says, closing the door. Emma, Hyunjin, and Felix have already disappeared. There are more people than I was expecting, Emma made it sound like it was a private party, but there are at least 60 people here.

"The kitchen.." I trail off as I look through the crowd, trying to find it. I hear him laugh from behind me.

"Come with me" He touches my back lightly before moving in front of me, guiding me to the kitchen. I instantly spot Chan's blond hair. He's with Changbin and some other people pouring shots.

"Hi" I go up to him from behind and he instantly smiles when he sees it's me. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are flushed.

"Oh my god, heyyyyy" He pulls me into a hug and I giggle.

"Are you drunk already?" I love drunk Chan. He hardly drinks that much but when he does he's one of the funniest people ever.

"Tipsy," he corrects me pointing a finger at me "Tipsy is the right word dear"

He pours two more shots and he gives one to me and one to Jeongin who's still standing beside me.

"Let's get it" Changbin yells and we all drown our shots. . . .

.

.

The energy in this house is crazy and at this point, everyone is pretty much drunk, including me and I'm loving it. I found myself dancing on tables, playing games, chatting with people, and actually smiling. For a moment I felt like my old self again and I wanted to keep that feeling for as long as I possibly can. So I drank more and danced more until the thoughts in my head about what I should and shouldn't do were gone. Currently, Emma and Seungmin are nowhere to be found, Felix has been following Hyunjin's drunk ass around cause he has thrown up 2 times already, Chan is playing beer pong with Changbin and some other girls and I'm dancing with Jisung and Jeongin. Turns out Jisung is a really good dancing partner and has been filling up Hyunjin's spot all night. Well, I did threaten him not to leave my side. Jeonjin is also a really nice guy, super funny, and easy to be around. Even if I don't wanna admit it, my eyes have been searching for Minho ever since I got here but he's nowhere to be found. I know I shouldn't really care, he hasn't been particularly nice to me but that doesn't really stop my growing curiosity about him. The temperature in the room is incredibly hot. My hair is sticking to my back and I feel like my whole face is on fire, the amount of alcohol that I've consumed doesn't really help. My breaths are getting shorter and sharper as I push my body to move to the music between Jisung and Jeongin. The minute I feel my stomach turning I knew I had to slow down for a bit. I needed air.

"I'm going to get some air, I'm sweating so fucking much." I yell over the music to both of them. Jeongin pulls me closer to him by my elbow.

"Do you want me to take you?" He says to my ear. Jeongin has been my guide through the house the entire night. He's taken me to his room to leave my stuff, and to the bathroom, and he showed me around the kitchen and the rest of the bedrooms. Emma was right, this place is huge.

"No, I got this one." I reassure him. I make my way upstairs and walk down the hall, to the last room, where we left our stuff. I remember that there was a small balcony and when I open the door, I'm happy to see that I remembered correctly. I carefully pull open the small balcony door oven and step out, letting the cool air hit my skin. My ears are ringing from the loud music, my eyes can't really focus on anything and my mind is a blur, unable to think about anything. In this moment I find myself smiling, cause in this moment everything is silent. The apartment is pretty high up, giving the guys access to an incredible view. I notice a small flight of stairs to my left. I look at them curiously, before slowly walking up, my drunken state not making it easy for me. When I reached the top, I looked around only to realise that I'm on a small rooftop. My eyes light up at the sight and a giggle escapes me. Rooftops make me happy. I wish our apartment had one.

"Okay, now who's stalking who?" A low voice says and my head snaps to the left. Minho's sitting on the floor with a cigarette between his lips. There he is. Has he been up here this whole time?

"I didn't even know you were here." I protest, taking a step forwards but stumbling a bit on my own feet.

Minho let out a low raspy laugh. "How come every time we meet on a rooftop you're always drunk? " He snorts "Is that like a thing? Whenever you get drunk you search for a rooftop?"

I keep my eyes on the sky in front of me. "I like rooftops," I smile as I begin to walk aimlessly around. "Something about being so high, no walls around me, a clear view of the sky, makes me feel like I'm on top of the world, it calms me down." I grab the railing and take a look downwards to see how far up are we.

"Get away from the railing, you're drunk." Minho's voice comes out louder than before. I look at him over my back. He's now standing, his cigarette rests between his fingers and his eyes are set on my figure.

Interesting.

I turn around, resting my back on the trailing, my hands still gripping it tightly.

Deja vu.

"Or what?" I giggle and lean backward just a bit more. He takes a quick step forward, his free hand extended towards me.

"Y/n, I'm not fucking around, get away." His tone is demanding and his eyes are hard, jaw set. My drunk mind finds his face funny.

"You're funny." I smile at him. He takes a few more steps, carefully.

"I'm not joking." His voice gets low again.

My eyes spark with excitement. "Oops" I lean back furthermore, but his hand comes around my waist pulling me away.

"Do you wanna die?" He says, staring down at me. I know he's half joking but my mouth opens before my mind can think.

"That would be a good way to go." I half smile.

His eyebrows draw together "What?"

"I mean it would be easier right?" I tilt my head at him "It wouldn't be entirely my fault. She got drunk and she fell off the roof sound better than anything else that would make me look weak right?" His face is unreadable, or maybe shocked I can't really tell. He drops his hand from my waist but doesn't say a word. "But either way, I'm weak right Minho?" I say, waving my hands. He clears his throat and looks away from my eyes.

"That's not what I meant I-"

"Cut the bullshit, I know what you meant." A sudden wave of emotions runs through me and I raise my voice slightly. "But let's get one thing straight, you don't know anything." I move closer to him. "You don't know anything about me or what happened. You're so quick to judge me and call me weak and stupid but you don't know shit."His expression changes slightly. A flash of emotion in his eyes that wasn't there before, he opens his mouth and then closes it again. His lips turn into a line and then he exhales loudly.

"It's not like that. I was just trying to help."He finally says.

"I don't need your help Minho. I don't want your fucking pity." I say through my teeth.

His eyebrows furrowed at my words. "I don't pity you y/n" He grabs my hand and without realising it I flinch lightly. He takes a sharp breath, his eyes widening only for a second before he drops his grip on my hand and turns around. He starts walking back and forth, hands on his head, through his hair, over his face, and finally set on his waist.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" I begin to apologise.

"Stop," His tone is sharp. He shakes his head. "You're- You're pissing me off."

Pissing him off? "What did I even do?" I honestly ask, frustrated.

"Why are you apologising?" He spins around. I stare at him, no words are coming out of my mouth. I simply stare at him. My chest feels heavy all of a sudden and my eyes fall to the ground.

"What happened to you?" His eyes are searching my face. "I remember a year ago, I met a girl on a rooftop. I was just sitting there when she stumbled through the door, wasted. She was smiling and she talked about life, kindness, and shit. Her eyes were wild and her voice loud and powerful. Her presence was so incredibly bright and I hated it. It pissed me off. It pissed me off because she was everything that I wasn't. The way she viewed the world and the way she talked about people and life made me jealous. I was jealous of her light. It reminded me of a lot of things I missed. I hated it." My eyes can't keep eye contact with him as he speaks. My stomach is a knot, my heart is beating fast, and my head is spinning.

He remembers me.

"Now here we are," He waves his hand around. "A year later, on a rooftop and you're once again drunk. But you're different. And I don't know why, but it makes me mad." My eyes are glued to the ground. My whole body is tensed and I feel more exposed than I should.

"You were right" I finally find my words.

"About what?"

"I'm weak," I nod several times. "And stupid. And I don't have the courage to say to anyone that I was in a shitty relationship. That I was weak enough to be manipulated and lied to and treated like shit. None knows about my childhood or my past in general. I'm scared that everyone would look at me differently. I'm scared that everyone will judge me. Like I did to my mom." I confess. "I promised myself that I would be stronger than she was. Braver and smarter," I laugh. "But of course, I met a guy in my first year of college and I thought I could fix him. I wanted to help him, so I stayed. I made excuses every time something would happen. And he played me. " My eyes begin to burn, desperately holding back the tears. Minho's gaze is hard. From the way he's looking at me, I can tell that he wasn't expecting me to share that much.

"I'm sorry," I sniff and try to look anywhere else. "I tend to overshare when I drink." I laugh awkwardly.

"Was he hitting you?" His question makes me freeze. This is a question I wished I would never hear anyone ask me. It sounds almost unreal.

"In the beginning, it wasn't so bad. Not enough for me to realise I guess. But he did at some point, yes. " My voice falters. "He would get mad often. He would yell. He would throw things, a lot of times dangerously close to me. At times I would try to calm him down, but he would push me, not caring to look where I would land. It wasn't like he was beating me up, we were fighting all the time. It was pushing around, slamming into walls, choking, throwing things. It was the type of beatings that in my mind I could justify cause I wasn't exactly innocent. If I had slapped him and then he had pushed me against the wall and choked me until I begged him to stop, I couldn't blame him completely cause I was the one who had started it. In the beginning, it was sort of exciting, the fighting and the toxicity gave me the kind of rush that made me go back, wanting more. But things started to change and the realization of the situation hit me as hard as the first time he actually slapped me. I would fight, I would yell at him but at some point I became mentally drained and I couldn't really fight back." The words come out of my mouth without me even thinking about them. Like a secret, I was dying to finally say out loud. "Even during sex he was-"

"That's enough" Minho looks at me, disgusted almost. He shakes his head and turns his gaze to the night sky.

"He had a hard childhood. His father treated him like shit. His mother passed away when he was young-" His laugh cuts me off as he turns to look at me.

"I'm not defending him," I whisper." I-I..." I take a deep breath. " I left him. It turns out I was a joke to him. He was supposed to fuck me and move on to the next girl. He had made bets with his friends and I was so naive that I fell right into his little game. The day I found out was the day he lost it and he ended up choking me. When it got to the point that I couldn't really breathe, he snapped back to reality but it was too late. I left him that day"

Minho shakes his head once again, smiling at the ground. His hands are crossed.

"The day we met, I caught him having sex with a blonde bitch at a frat party," I giggle. His eyes shoot up at mine. I drop to the ground and bring my knees to my chest. "And you know what's the saddest part?" I look up at him and smile a little. "I don't even miss him. I feel anger and pain whenever I look at him. I miss who I was before him. I'm mad at him for making me feel this weak and I'm more mad at myself for letting him." I honestly say. "I didn't realize it at the time but now looking back, I can see that the more I stayed, the more pieces of myself I was losing. Until it was too late. Now I feel like everything was taken away from me. All that I built myself to be, came crumbling down after him." I let out a breath of relief. I've been keeping all this inside for so long, never having the courage to say anything out loud. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe I'm too emotional right now. Either way, even if he doesn't really care about anything I said, even if doesn't even like me, the feeling of this huge weight finally lifting off of my shoulder is incredible. He takes a seat beside me. His shoulder brushes mine. He smells like vanilla and cigarettes. He doesn't look at me but I keep studying him. His jawline is sharper than a knife and his nose is perfectly straight. His eyelashes are probably longer than mine and the curve of his lips looks almost fake. His side profile is close to perfection.

"The urge to go find him and just beat the shit out of him is so strong right now." He exhales.

"Why? You have already expressed how much you don't like me and how I piss you off, many times." I giggle at his statement.

"Yeah but people like him piss me off more. " He says. I don't replay, instead, I rest my head on my knees and stare at him. His eyes are still looking forward. " And it's not that I don't like you."

"How did you know?"

"You told me about it the first time I saw you and I've seen it happening too many times." He says. I don't speak. I can't think of anything to say and I don't wanna overstep any boundaries by asking questions. "My father was abusive too," He breaks the silence. "He was an alcoholic. A piece of shit. It was only my mother at first but as the years went by he became violent towards me and my sister. I would fight him off as much as I could, but it would never end well. I remember begging my mother to leave him. 'I love him,' she would say. 'He said he won't do it again' "

He smiles at himself. "I was 17 and my sister 18 at the time. My dad came home drunk as usual. Me and Mia were in our room when we heard the sound of glass shattering. I rushed down the stairs and found a guy that I'd never seen before on top of my mother. He had his hands around her neck, choking her. Another guy was standing next to them, with a lamp in his hand and my dad laying on the floor." He clears his throat. "Um, long story short, he owed them a lot of money, and when he couldn't pay they came to find him. I did everything I could to protect my mother and sister but I was just a kid, I couldn't do much but I gave my sister enough time to call the police. My dad along with them ended up in jail." He finally turns to look at me. The emotion in his eyes is noticeable, for once. "It was supposed to end there." He continues. "We were finally free." A pause. "Until my sister started dating this guy."

I can feel my heart tighten, knowing where this is going.

"He was okay. Everything seemed okay, she looked happy so I didn't give it too much thought. They were dating for almost 2 years when they moved together. That's when shit started happening. We were dancing together ever since we were little so both of us decided to study dance naturally. We were practicing together every day so it wasn't easy for her to hide her body. Random bruises on her arms and legs started appearing, her mood started to change, she started skipping classes, and not going out with her friends." He shakes his head almost as if he's trying to shake the images out of his head. "She was this bright person, such a joy to be around. Always smiling." He smiled in such a sad way that my chest tightened. "When she came to practice one day with a bruise on her face, I put two and two together and completely lost it. I beat the shit out of him." He laughs a bitter laugh."She, of course, protected him. She pulled me away, and I yelled at her. I couldn't understand but I saw it in her eyes. She looked at me the way my mother looked at me whenever I would tell her to leave my dad." A pause "She was supposed to be better," His voice tightened, his tone a little louder. "I didn't understand. I still don't," He breathes. "I didn't speak to her for days, until one day she knocked at my door, late at night, crying hysterically." He takes a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled. "Turns out she was pregnant with that bastard's baby." He says and I suck a breath. He stays quiet, the silence makes what he said sink in more and more and I feel my heart break at his story.

"I was going to kill him." He looked at me. His face holds no expression but his eyes are swimming with emotions of all kinds. "For real, I was going to end him but she told me she left. She choose the baby over him and she left." I stare at him. That's all I can do honestly. What can I possibly say to him right now? His pain is all too familiar to mine. And I know that there's not much I can say.

"I understand," My voice comes out a bit louder than a whisper. " I understand.  I was supposed to be better too." I offer him a small smile.

He opens his mouth to say something but Jeongin bursts through the door before he has the chance to.

"Oh my god, there you are" He releases a breath, his hand over his heart. "You've been gone for over half an hour." I rise to my feet.

"I'm sorry." I apologise "I wasn't feeling that well. I think I drank too much." I quickly mask my face with a smile.

"You think?" He smirks and I push lightly at him.

"Smoke break?" He looks at Minho and I turn to look back at him as well. Any emotion that was there, has left Minho's face. His expression is entirely natural. Like our talk never happened.

"Yeah." He takes a lighter out of his pocket and lights again the cigarette that I forgot he was holding.

"You should come down, the party is crazy. " Jeongin says, excited and clearly drunk as well.

The corners of Minho's mouth lift a bit ."I'll be there in a few minutes." He reassures him and lets his eyes trail to me for a few seconds before focusing on his cigarette. Jeongin nods, grabs my hand, and leads me down the stairs and back into the room.

"Oh, by the way, Hyunjin has been throwing up nonstop and Felix is panicking."

"What?" I yell.

"Yep." Jeongin's mouth turns into a thin line. He leads me towards the bathroom, where I see Hyunjin with his head on the toilet and Felix leaning against the door frame, his fingers resting at the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

"I left you for less than an hour." I run to Hyunjin's side. I sit down beside him, brushing some hair out of his face. His eyes are closed, head resting on top of his hand.

"Babysitting Hyunjin feels like my full-time job at this point." Felix jokes, frustration written in his voice.

"You can go back down, I'll take it from here."

He hesitates. "You sure?"

"Yes Felix, go have fun. I'll find him a place to sleep and I'll be down in a few." I reassure him.

"Alright, if anything happens come and get me." He says and basically runs down the stairs.

"Hyunjin? Are you awake?" I say lightly. No respond.

"We can put him in my bedroom if you want. " Jeongin scratches the back of his neck.

"Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure" He shrugs and helps me lift Hyunjin. We walk just a few steps down the hall, into a bedroom, and gently drop Hyunjin on the bed. I scan the room, searching for a trashcan. I spot one under the desk, I place it beside the bed just in case he throws up again and turn him to his side before lowering the lights a bit.

"I'll come and check on him in a few. " I say as we make our way out of the room and down the stairs. The party is still going strong. I force myself to forget about Minho and what we talked about, by throwing myself back on the dance floor. The music gets louder and we get drunker. I lost count of the number of shots I've done, All I know is that I'm having a fucking great time. My body is on fire and my mind is numb. Unable to think, or panic. I move freely, I'm not thinking, I let the music guide my body and I let the alcohol take over my head. I spot chan coming out of the kitchen.

"Channie" I run to him, stumbling over my own feet. Thankfully, he catches me in his arms.

"Wow, you're really drunk." He laughs, helping me find my balance. I wrap my hands around his neck, refusing to let go.

"I've missed you so much" I slur.

"Okay, I know where this is going, and I don't want you to cry in front of everyone. How about we get you home?" His hand rests on my waist, as he leads me to the living room. Seungmin is sitting on the couch with Emma straddling his lap. They're making out as if their life depends on it. On the other couch, I spot Jisung and Minho talking.

"Em" Chan yells over the music, trying to get her attention. Her head snaps in our direction, breaking the kiss.

"She's drunk isn't she?" She sighs, a smile playing on her lips. I try to move away from Chan's grip but he won't let me

"I'm not drunk," I point my finger at her, trying to focus my eyes "I'm wasted." I smile.

Everyone laughs. Well, everyone except Minho.

"Okay, maybe we should get going." She climbs off of Seungmin's lap. "Where's Hyunjin?"

"Yeah, about that.." Chan trails off.

"He's blacked out drunk in Jeongin's room" Felix and Jeongin appear beside me, red cups in their hands.

"Jeongin," I squeal, as I break free from Chan's grip and run towards jeongin. "Let's dance." I attempt to grab his hand and drag him to the dance floor, but he sneaks a hand around my waist pulling me back, my back slamming into his front. I giggle.

"Nope," He laughs. "You've done enough dancing" I cross my hands and pout like a child. Felix laughs at my reaction.

" I haven't seen y/n drunk in so long, I've forgotten how funny she gets" he pats my head.

"I've not drunk Felix" I sigh dramatically, still in Jeongin's grip.

"I'm wasted," Chan and Emma say at the same time and everyone bursts into laughter. Everyone except Minho, again. I turn to look at him, and he's already looking at me. He's sitting on the couch, legs spread wide open, a red cup in his hand, and his head resting on the back of the couch. His free hand plays with his bottom lip and his eyes are focused on my figure, not moving. Not gonna lie, he looks hot. Minho is undeniably handsome. Something about his whole presence is attractive....until he opens his mouth. He can be a total ass. But right now he's not talking, he's simply staring at me, and he looks hot doing it.

"Wait, so if Hyunjin can't drive us back, how are we going to get home?" Emma's question breaks me from my thoughts.

"I can't drive, I've been drinking a lot" Felix giggles. His blonde hair is a mess and his cheeks look like they're on fire.

"I can drive." My hand goes up.

"No" jeongin brings my hand back down. I roll my eyes and rest my head against his chest. From the corner of my eyes, I see Minho lean forward. He places his elbows on his knees, the red cup now hanging from his hand between his legs. His eyes burn the side of my head.

"I can drive you," Jisung offers. "I've only been drinking water, all night"

"Yayyyy" I throw my hands in the air. Jisung flashes me a smile.

"Okay," Emma says and turns to Chan. "Please help me drag Hyunjin's drunk ass to the car." She stands from the couch and turns to Felix. "I'll grab all of our stuff, just take Y/n and Jisung to the car." She points a finger at him, her voice slow and loud as if she's explaining something to a child. Felix nods and takes me by the arm.

"I like them bossy." Seungmin wipes his lips with the back of his hand as his eyes follow Emma's back.

Jisung gets up from his spot beside Minho.

"Do you want me to come?" Minho looks up at him.

"No, I'll manage" He pats his back and Minho just nods.

"Okay then," He rubs his hands together. "Let's go kid." He says to me, placing a hand on my lower back, guiding me through the sweaty bodies, while Felix leads the way. Emma and Chan arrive at the car a few minutes after us, holding a very grumpy, half-asleep Hyunjin. Emma unlocks the car and gets into the passenger's seat while me, Hyunjin, and Felix get in the back. Hyunjin immediately lays his head on my lap, closing his eyes once again. Chan appears at my window.

"Text me when you guys get home, okay?" He says to Emma.

"Sure thing dad." She smiles at him.

"Goodnight Channie" I wave at him as Jisung starts the car.

"Bye." He waves back. I rest my head on the back of the seat, letting the cool air hit my face as my fingers run through Hyunjin's long blonde hair. Silence fills the car and my eyes begin to close until finally, sleep takes over me.

[literaturewithliz]

1. Hello I was wondering if I could get a romantic matchup for Harry Potter (preferably marauders era as I’m 20 or aged up characters), cobra kai, and the outsiders.

2. I’m bisexual with she/her pronouns so any gender is fine!

3. Appearance:

As for looks, I’m 5’1, average to smaller build, tanned olive type skin, dark brown eyes, full lips, dark brown shoulder length wavy/kinda curly hair with curtain bangs. I also wear glasses with a slight cat eye to them.

4. Personality:

For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. However I definitely treasure my alone time the most.

5. Hobbies/Interests:

As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out.

My interests on the other hand are art focused. I’m currently in art school working with both digital and traditional mediums. I love my practice and everything from interaction design and digital illustration to graphite drawings and inking.

6. Likes/dislikes:

Likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/ music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock with the wind in my hair, quality alone time

Dislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, physical touch, overly crowded areas

Thank you!

Thanks so much for the request!

Harry Potter

I match you with Nymphadora Tonks!

I think she loves how outgoing you can be when you get to know someone! But she completely understands if you don’t wanna go anywhere for a date and would rather just cuddle on her couch. I think y’all would have cute and quiet mornings where she makes you tea/coffee. Your an artist? She’s fascinated, I tell you. She wants to see all of your work. She doesn’t wanna pressure you into showing anything you don’t want to show, but she can’t help her excitement!

Cobra Kai

I match you with Robby Keene! (I couldn’t find anyone who’s close to your age that isn’t around 40, so if we could pretend your 16-17 in this scenario, that would be great thanks! So sorry!)

I think he totally understands the way you think about valuing your alone time! I think he’s so similar to you in that way. He’s such a respectful boyfriend, and let’s you know that you never have to feel like your bothering him by wanting alone time. I think he would love to work out with you! Y’all would have jogs in the park or he would teach you different moves in the dojo a lot. You say you don’t like physical touch, and I think Robby wouldn’t mind that one bit. I kinda think he feels the same way.

The Outsiders

I match you with Darry Curtis!

I think Darry loves how individualistic you are, and really appreciates that your so independent, as he can’t always be around 24/7. I think that you can help him relax, though, with how open and funny you are around those that you love. I think he would absolutely adore jazz music just like you! Y’all go to café’s with art shows and jazz music playing on the rare occasion he has the time and money. I don’t think fantasy/sci-fi is really his cup of tea, as he’s such a realist, but I think y’all balance each other out in that way.

I hope you liked your results!

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖𝕤

___________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Bucky gets hit with that god awful (but really hot) sex pollen. (this was requested)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Dub-Con/Non-Con as per usual with sex pollens fics (although i try to write them as consensual as possible :T) Smut obvi (18+ minors dni), slight daddy kink, age gap?, public male masturbation; it's brief but still

TW: very brief mention of possible suicide

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hot

____________________

“Where are those daisies we collected from the last mission?” Tony asked you, eyes staying glued to the hologram in front of him.

“I left them on the quinjet. Fury said to wait for transportation until Shield confirms safety. It’s literally in a glass case, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, making the older man laugh.

“Just protocol, kid,” he snickered.

Meanwhile Bucky sat with Steve eating lunch, chatting it up like old men do.

“So what did you bring back from the last mission? I saw a bunch of agents in hazmat suits,” Steve said sipping his coffee.

“Uh, well Thor said we should bring some plants back for research, but it seems like a bunch of normal lookin’ daisies,” Bucky shrugged.

“Y/n loves daisies,” Steve smirked.

“Ok?”

“And you love Y/n,” Steve teased.

“No I don’t-”

“Hey boys!” you skipped past the kitchen.

“Y/n,” Bucky said standing up with a big goofy smile on his face.

“Where ‘ya going?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

“Quinjet. Fury gave us the go to start doing tests on that plant you brought the other day,” you smiled lightly jogging to the runway.

“Why don't you ask her on a date, Buck,” Steve nudged.

“Come on, she’s way too smart to go out with a dumbass like me,” Bucky joked.

“Seriously.”

“I don’t know. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another woman. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Wha- what’s even the first I’d say to her?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m on the same boat with you. Just… Tell how nice she looks today when she comes back.”

“Really?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“Yeah, be nice to her.”

“I am nice to her.”

“I mean be extra nice. Flatter her,” Steve told him, “Go wait in the lab until she comes back and tell her she looks pretty today.”

“Isn’t Tony in the lab?” Bucky asked.

“Ha ha, yeah,” Steve teased, patting his back before leaving to his room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony mumbled seeing Bucky waltzing in the room awkwardly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled back.

Tony dropped his hands and stared at Bucky with an unimpressed look on his face. Everyone but you knew about Barnes’ little boy crush on you but he’s never had the balls to say anything. You were close to Tony and seeing as though he doesn’t particularly like Bucky, he didn’t want you hanging around him. But you were an adult so of course you hung out with whoever you wanted.

He was sure you liked him back too which never ceased to make him roll his eyes.

You walked back from the quinjet with the glass container of daisies. You weren’t exactly a plant expert but it was apparent that these daisies were mutated seeing as though the pollen swirled around the flowers gracefully. It was beautiful but then again they might be extremely dangerous considering it was a Hydra experiment.

“Hey Y/n, off to the lab again?” Steve smiled.

“Yup, gotta check these babies out according to Thor; said they might be dangerous if they’re what he thinks they are,” you said, still walking.

“And what’s that?” you just shrugged at his question unsure of the answer yourself.

“Well, Bucky’s waiting for you in the lab,” he slipped in the conversation.

“Really? Why’s-” Crash!

“Oh no,” Tony mumbled, seeing the collision in action.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.

“No, no. I should be sorry. Here let me help,” bucky knelt to the ground grabbed the fallen daisies with his bare hands.

“No! Don’t touch-” Tony shouted practically sprinting towards you two.

The golden pollen swirled in a misty manner engulfing Bucky completely. You stared with furrowed brows confused at the sight before you and what was going on. Bucky’s skin began to burn and his senses were being overloaded. All he could smell in that moment was you; the same scent that he got a whiff of this morning when he hugged you, the perfume and the shampoo that filled his senses when you walked passed him.

Tony pushed you out of the lab roughly throwing you in Steve’s arms who was just as confused.

“FRIDAY,” Tony called out.

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” the familiar voice answered.

“Lock all the doors to the lab and maybe turn on the a/c,” he commanded.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

All the glass walls and doors instantly shut and locked, locking Bucky inside. Bucky’s eyes found your and slammed his body against the glass desperately trying to reach you. You too ran up to the glass wall trying to understand what had happened to him. Everything was happening so suddenly.

Your forehead was pressed against the glass as was Bucky’s; both of you staring into each other’s eyes momentarily. In that moment, you could see his eyes turn golden for a quick second before his pupils dilated ridiculously before your eyes.

“Is he going to be ok?” you turned away.

“Y/n! Please!” Bucky’s muffled screams shocked you.

“Uh… where’s Thor?” Tony panicked.

“What the hell is happening?” Nat asked; Sam, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind closely.

“Nat,” you ran to her.

“What happened to Bucky?” Same asked.

“He- I ran- I ran into him by a-accident and the box dropped. There was mist everywhere and Bucky's eyes. His eyes,” you stammered breathlessly.

“Please! I need her!” Bucky hit the glass in an attempt to break it.

“Oh my goodness,” Wanda gasped at the sweaty Bucky hitting and practically going feral.

“Oh god, is he gonna be ok?” you teared up. This is your fault, dammit.

“I can asure he will experience no physical harm,” Thor’s voice made all of you turn around.

“Just physically? What the hell does that mean?” Sam argued.

“Well, uh… I’ve never actually seen it’s effects in person. Especially not on a Midguardian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes grew big.

Nat snapped her head, eyes widening as well. Bucky with absolutely no shame held his hard dick in his hands pumping it with his eyes trained on you. You went to turn around seeing nat’s expression but she covered you eyes before you could actually see the lewd behavior Bucky indulged in.

“What’s happening?” you asked holding onto Nat as she led across the room.

“Nothing, they’re gonna take care of Buck. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.

You sat in your room bouncing your leg as the movie on your TV played. Every now and then Bucky would moan and cry particularly loud making all of you wince and cringe. But your mind felt foggy simply thinking about Bucky and his safety; especially that moment when his eyes went from confusion to you don’t even know what. Hunger? Desire? Lust?

Whatever it was, it made your tummy flutter.

“Steve, any news on Bucky?” Steve stood at the doorway with a worrisome face that did nothing to ease your already panicked nerves.

“Well, as far as Thor knows the plant that was mutated with the daisies was pollen extracted from a breeding plant common among other galaxies; for species that can’t… reproduce like we do. The pollen enters the system and targets the nociceptors causing excruciating pain without physical harm. If untreated the victim can reach a traumatic state and truthfully, they will do anything to stop the pain; even kill themselves.”

“What the hell does any of that mean?” Sam grunted.

“It means the tin man is painfully horny,” Tony interrupted.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam said in disbelief.

“What’s the cure?” Nat said.

“Oxytocin, of course,” Tony said.

“The cuddle hormone,” you whispered.

“Yup. Banner and I are already working on a serum containing artificial oxytocin in hopes to minimize the pain or even better cure him completely. We-”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit more complicated than that,” Thor interrupted Tony.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see the pollen, it’s a little tricky. The oxyputin-thingy you mentioned…”

“Oxytocin,” Tony clarified but Thor didn’t care too much.

“I don't think artificial love is going to cure the boy. If you want results, he needs to be the one he desires most. That’s where you’ll get your oxy-pudding.”

“Oxy- You know what, we can figure this out without anyone needing to have sex,” Tony groaned.

“Tony, maybe we shouldn’t-” you started.

“Nope, we can do this. We’re science bros,” Tony stormed away like a child.

“Isn’t your lab being ‘occupied’,” Nat called out.

“Shit!”

-

Hours went by and the oxytocin experiments were clearly a fail. The first dose did nothing. The second also nothing. The third relieved him for only ten seconds before he went back to his painful state. Since then, they haven’t been able to help or relieve Bucky’s circumstance any longer.

You thought about Thor’s words, about how the one he desires most could cure him. A ping of jealousy struck your heart but you knew you to find the woman Bucky loved and just pray that she'd help him. You made your way back to the lad area where Tony and Bruce had their new makeshift set up while the lab was locked down.

“Tony, this is ridiculous. It’s been going on for too long. You heard what Thor said about what happens when it gets too much,” you begged.

“And what do you suggest we do?” Tony said angrily.

“We need to find the woman that Bucky loves so she can help him,” you argued back.

“It's not just some woman, Y/n! He wants you.”

“What?”

“All the bastard’s been doing for the past eight hours has been masterbating while moaning your name. I’m not putting you in that situation,” Tony yelled.

You couldn’t speak. Was he telling you the truth? Did Bucky want you like that? The same way you secretly wanted him? It’s not like you haven't thought about what being with Bucky would be like before. He was perfect; so handsome and charming.

You ran back to your room where the rest of the guys still were practically out of breath; your heart hammering out of your chest and your stomach fluttering like it does whenever you think about Bucky.

“I need to get to Bucky,” you panted out.

“What?”

“Please you guys need to help me. Tony said that Bucky wants me; I mean can you believe. A guy like him wanting me? I’m just… nobody. He’s way too out of my league and-”

“Y/n, focus,” Nat said.

“Right. I- I want to help him. I know I can.”

“Y/n, we don’t know how dangerous this is. I mean, it came from Hydra, this could be weaponized and you could get hurt,” Steve argued.

“Bucky could never hurt me,” you whispered; Nat looked at you softly, understanding the situation better realizing you were probably Bucky’s only chance of a cure.

“You’re not actually considering letting her do this are you?” Steve scolded Nat.

"Are Tony and Bruce making any progress?" she sighed.

"They haven't been to even relieve his pain for longer than ten seconds," you whispered.

"Steve, this is Bucky we're talking about. Hasn't he endure enough torture in his life?" Nat said softly.

That seemed to convince him. Seeing Bucky in so much pain like he had been only years ago was unfair, especially when they technically already knew a cure. Waiting this out was pure evil at this point.

"How do you suppose we go about this?" he asked.

You devised a plan in order to let Bucky from the lab; he'd find his way to you on his own. Wanda stood from afar using her powers to tamper with the equipment. Tony frustratingly would have to run across the compound to the conference rooms to grab new devices in order to continue with his notes and tests.

On his way back, Steve and his convincing and charming ways would stall Tony's return asking him all sorts of questions about Bucky's state. Meanwhile, Thor made up some excuse to lure Banner away just for a minute so Nat and Sam could override the lockdown through Friday and free Bucky.

All the while you sat in your room waiting anxiously for Bucky to barge through the door and have his way with you.

A few minutes went by and no sign of a ruckus you'd assume would accompany the escape plan. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt biting your lip in anticipation. Still no sign after a couple more minutes. Wanting to make sure you still looked alright for Buck, although he'd probably not even acknowledge your appearance, you stood up to walk to your bathroom.

Just as you stood up, Bucky in all his muscle and broad glory slammed the door behind him staring at you with nothing but desperate hunger. Your stomach flipped when you saw him lock the door, pushing a small chair you had just next to it in front of the door under the handle.

He stalked towards practically panting and you took in his appearance. His hair was quite disheveled and sweat lined his forehead and slightly down his neck. Despite that, he still looked so handsome and sexy.

"маленький, all dressed up for me to ruin," he growled crawling up the bed as you crawled back.

"Buck, are you ok? I want to help you," you whispered.

"I'm more than ok now, beautiful," he whispered leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

"Is my красивый маленький ангел gonna let me use her?" he whispered, huskily.

"Bucky, I don't understand what you're saying."

"так драгоценно," he whispered against your lips before pressing himself completely against you.

His hands, contrast between hot and cold, crept under your shirt brushing lightly over your delicate skin. You had somewhat expected Bucky to have no control and use you relentlessly, of which you wouldn't have minded, but this soft ginger foreplay was really making your panties wet.

Bucky slowly lifted the shirt from your body before tossing it to the side and removing his own. His hands cupped your breasts squeezing the soft flesh quite roughly making you sigh and moan at the feeling.

His lips attached themselves to your neck biting and sucking harshly littering your skin with dark purple marks. He nibbled on your ear as he grinding his pelvis against yours, his large erection poking your center making you even more aroused.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. It smelled just like you," he whispered.

"T- The daisies?"

"I've been craving you, aching for you. Thinking about how good you're gonna feel wrapped around my cock," he panted speeding up his grinding thrusts.

"Buck," you breathed out.

Bucky shuddered over you before stilling for a moment. He couldn't help it, your scent, your warm skin pressed against his, he couldn't hold back anymore coming straight away in his pants.

You brushed his hair softly soothing him from his high. You thought it was over, that he felt better and was finally cured but almost instantly you felt Bucky harden under you, poking between your thighs and you gasped knowing very well it was going to be a long night.

Bucky stood on his knees and pulled your bottoms down your legs nearly ripping the material. He too rid his bottoms throwing them god knows where before climbing back on top of you. You stared adorably up at him and Bucky almost came again. He smiled softly at you before kissing you once more.

Suddenly, loud bangs on your door startled you but not Bucky.

"What the hell are you doing!" Tony screamed.

"Tony, you gotta stop! This is the only way! It's not fair to him to let him keep suffering. He's done enough of that, ok?" Nat shouted.

"She's gonna get hurt," Tony sighed.

"No she won't. This was her idea."

Tony looked back teary eyed. He really cared for you as his own and putting you in a situation like this wasn't fair to you either. He really tried to help but this was just too complicated and too advanced to solve in only a few hours. They were right, Bucky needed you as much as he didn't like that idea too much.

"Fine."

Bucky lined his cock with your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he pushed in pulling moans from you both. You've only had a couple lovers previous to Bucky but neither of them ever filled you so perfectly. Bucky stretched you out like none other and admittedly he wanted to use his fingers on you first but he'd been away for too long it was too painful to go another second without being inside you.

"So tight and warm, little one. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me."

"Buck," you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you as you kissed along his neck and jaw. Bucky moaned breathlessly in your ear and you couldn't help the clenching around him from arousal.

"Fuck, keep doing that, little one," he groaned.

Toy squeezed your thighs together and clenched around him again making him groan louder this time. His thrusts became sporadic and you moved against like a ragdoll unable to keep up with his relentless pace.

Your legs began to shake and your back arched into his chest reaching you first high of the night, gushing all over his cock. You realize he hasn't come and gently push him off you before flipping over to let him take you again from behind.

As expected, Bucky pushed into once again deeper this time and you shuddered under his hand that rested atop your arched back. Bucky smacked and kneaded your ass thrusting in and out. The lewd squelching sound of his thrust mixed with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room.

"Shit, little one. Taking my cock so fucking well," he reached forward and bunch up your hair pulling your head back harshly.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets as hard as you could. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you weren't going to be able to hold back any longer. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"You wanna come, darling. You wanna cream all over daddy's cock?"

"Yes! Fuck!" your arms shook before giving out completely; your head buried in the sheets as Bucky continued that same wild and rough pace.

"Please let me come, daddy!"

Your body felt on fire. No one has ever made you feel this good before, it was almost too much, too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes from trying to desperately hold back. You wanted to come with Bucky but seeing as his pace had yet to slow down you were beginning to think he wasn't even close.

"Let go, doll."

Your body squirmed beneath him as you released all over his dick. You came with a near shout, your body violently trembling from the intensity of your high. Bucky slowed his pace for your comfort, gently riding your orgasm slowly down despite his still aching erection.

He languidly rolled you over to your back, his hands softly rubbing your sides up to your breasts. You breathed heavily, eyes feeling droopy, all you could feel in that moment was his cum dripping from you onto the sheets.

Bucky, still knelt on the bed and still chasing his release, lifted your legs over his thighs gripping your hip with one hand and his cock with the other. You squeezed your thighs together when you felt his tip poking at your entrance once again, soft whimpers emitting from you shakily.

"Such a good girl. Gonna let me take you again? Gonna let me keep using you?" he moaned.

"Use me, Buck. I'm all yours," you breathed out.

Bucky pushed himself past your folds once again, your cum easily letting him slide in. Both his hands made home on your hips gripping hardly surely to leave marks for you to remember this very moment. You looked at Bucky as his thrusts slowly began to pick up, bringing your own hands to your breasts to play with your nipples. You twisted the perked buds, moaning softly at the feeling as well as Bucky filling you perfectly once again.

"Filling me up so good, baby," you moaned, arching your back slightly allowing Bucky to hit a newer and deeper angle inside you.

"Pussy was fucking made for me," he growled.

His hand moved from its home on your hip right over your lower belly where he could feel his cock so deep poking his own hand through your tummy.

"Feel how fucking deep I am?"

You moved your hand and he pressed yours in the same spot under his and you moaned loudly, shuddering under him.

His pace quickened and for a moment he thought he was going to finally reach his high, that release he'd been thinking about for hours today, but when he felt you clench again, squeezing his cock tightly and he didn't cum, he knew it was gonna be chase that he didn't know you'd be up for. You gushed all over his dick, back arching and your legs pressing tight around his torso, coming with a loud scream of his name.

Bucky fell forward with tears in his eyes. His skin still felt hot and sticky. His sense felt dialed up to an eleven. It was all so overwhelming and all he wanted was to cum in you and hold you closer whispering how he really loved you. He pressed faint kisses to you equally sticky and warm skin and when you felt warm liquid dripping onto your skin to lift Bucky's head to find him crying.

"What's wrong, baby?"

“I can’t cum. I just wanna cum,” he whined.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I can go as many times as you need me to. I want to help you, let me do that.”

“Can- Can you uh… use your mouth please? I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so bad,” he moaned.

“Of course, baby. I’d do anything for you,” you smirked before pushing him and crawling over him holding his dick in your hand.

-

Hours and literally hours had passed until Bucky was finally tired out only having cum three times compared to the fifteen-plus times you had. Your bed laid on the ground; the wooden stands snapped about two hours ago. Most of your sheets were torn to shreds and marks littered your body from your neck down to your hips and your knees from, well you know.

Your body shook as you laid in a fetal position. You burned between your thighs; the soreness overwhelming but pleasant at the same time. Sweat made what was left of the sheets stick to your body until Bucky pulled them from you to clean you. He used a warm towel all over your body with tears in his eyes whispering how sorry he was about everything.

“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me now; if you never want to see me again. Just know that I’m so sorry about your bed, the blankets, if I hurt you, everything,” he sniffled, eyes and nose red and puffy.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice raspy and croaky from your moaning and screaming all night.

“Y/n,” he whispered back. You pulled him by the back of his neck into a soft yet passionate kiss.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out when you pulled away. You cupped his face with shaky hands but a smile on your face.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I’ve dreamt about holding you far too many times, more than I’d like to admit. I should’ve told you sooner but like everyone else, I was scared you didn’t like me back; at least not this way,” he rubbed your legs indicating the intimate love he had for you.

“Buck, it’s virtually impossible for anyone not to fall in love with you. Unless they’re Tony,” you giggled as did he.

“Can you say it?” he asked softly.

“That I love you?” you smiled brushing your nose against his; Bucky practically purred as he nodded.

“I love you, James,” you whispered.

“Fuck, I love you too.”

He laid you down softly again on the broken bed pressing light kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. You brushed his hair with your fingers as he clung onto you ready to sleep.

“Thank you again, doll. For helping me today,” he said after a couple minutes of silence.

“Of course, my love. Besides I’m the one who ran into you with those damn daisies.”

“Thank god for them then. And for your clumsiness,” Bucky chuckled.

“Meanie,” you snorted, making Bucky laugh even more.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

[gorbo-longstocking]

we are on an underfell kick….could you give us headcanons for the skeletons and maybe muffet or grillby?

muffet and grillby aren't on the request list (yet...) so i didn't do them but i will start My Process of adding them to the character list! i like to have a decent grasp on characterization before i start blasting. when they're added feel free to ask then! :D anywho here are the skelebros

red

- meeting him isn’t hard, he’s a regular at several bars in town and he doesn’t shy away from flirting with people who catch his eye. no need to worry about the bill, drinks are on him. only thing you gotta pay him back with is your company. red’s easy to talk to on a surface level, he’s funny, laid back, and observant enough to pick up on boundaries without you having to say anything. it’s a nice change of pace from the usual sleazeballs who hit on you, although he is laying it on pretty thick.

- maybe he’s had a bad day because he ends up sloshed. while i stick with the monsters are asexual headcanon, red’s used to one night stands. he’s all about that quick validation and intimacy, and he will proposition you. he’s way too drunk to even consider that so you help him home. well, more like you walk next to him on his way back home. he’s stumbling a bit but won’t let himself seem weak at all, and you just wanna make sure he gets there safe. there are some real assholes out and about at night. you have to frame it like you want to chat with him a bit longer or he’ll get defensive.

- after that, you’re going to have to text him. he won’t message you, expecting and hoping, that he never has to see you again. red’s a bit shifty, you saw him at a very vulnerable state, one he didn’t mean to get into. for all he knew your intentions were nothing but bad. red has a tendency to be a bit paranoid. he’ll hang out with you, but he makes sure to keep distance between the two of you. this doesn’t last long. as much as he hates it, he gets attached easily.

- he’s not as slow as a burner as he likes to think he is. red is starved for affection and love, any form of it will get him to fall and hard. denial isn’t just a river in egypt, it’s also is a mustard-loving skeleton. you’ll have to squeeze any form of a confession out of him like he’s an old dish rag. he thinks you can do better, you don’t need him weighing you down. lay on some heavy praise and he’s putty in your hands.

- as a boyfriend, red is flirty and somewhat possessive. after so long starved for love, he wants to be around you every second he can get. you are his oasis and he is goddamn thirsty. he likes to have his hands on you whenever he can and is a sucker for lazy sunday cuddles. there’s no one alive who can make you laugh like red can. his taste in television is kind of rancid, adult swim is his own baby sensory video. you are the only person alive who can wrestle the remote from him and edge couldn’t be more grateful.

- a song i associate with red when i’m in x reader day dream mode is cupid’s chokehold by gym class heroes. and you know what? i’m a believer by smash mouth too. i do not take criticism im just straight up right.

edge

- while edge is out and about frequently, he is prickly enough to deter anyone willing to be friendly with him. he is tall, loud, and very intimidating, it’ll take a lot of courage to even begin approaching him. the most friendly you’ll be able to find him is on his morning jog. as long as you don’t talk to him, he’ll allow you to run nearby him, although he’ll begin shooting you frustrated glares the longer you hover nearby. you’re probably entirely unaware of this. his personal bubble is bigger than what’s realistic, you’re likely at least a few feet behind him.

- after a week of this, he’ll confront you. why are you following him every morning? when you explain it’s your usual route, you’ve just started jogging earlier he’ll scoff. in case you didn’t know, this is his route too. he’s trying to get you to leave, and it’s annoying. either out of stubbornness or spite, you double down and begin to chat with him every morning while you run, whatever will make him angrier. your friendship begins with the two of you snarking at each other at the break of dawn.

- as much as edge will deny it, he starts to like you more than he’d like to admit. you don’t back down, you aren’t as stupid as most other humans, and you look very nice under the pale morning sun. he wants to run his fingers through your hair, it looks very soft. all of these thoughts will promptly be bludgeoned into submission (or poured into his evil secret diary) you’ll catch him sending you longing glances and trying to spend more time with you outside of your jogs. he won’t invite you to dinner straight out but he’s somehow manages to brag even more about his cooking than usual. he’s baiting you.

- is edge a slowburn? maybe. is he a tsundere? most definitely. red’s denial is just him ignoring his feelings, edge blatantly and suspiciously denies his as loud as he possibly can. you can probably pick up on his feelings pretty easily. if you tease him about it he’ll get really huffy. it’s cute. when he asks you out, he pins it on you. he’s noticed how you have grown feelings for him and he is sparing you the stress of asking him out yourself.

- as a boyfriend, edge is loving. slow and smooth, like melted chocolate or velvet. he wants to be your knight in shining armor, the moon to your sun, the poet to your muse. in short, he is whipped for you. his touch is gentle and sometimes, he looks at you softly with so much love you feel like you could melt on the spot. edge is a skeleton with the outside of a cactus and the mushy center of pudding. he’s a tall guy and he’s very strong, the image of him carrying around his partner like a ferret is vivid.

- a song i associate with edge in x reader daydream mode is as the world caves in by matt maltese which i know is probably a controversial take but look me in the eyes if edge doesnt have the energy of someone who would spend his last moments loving you as everything falls apart. look me in the eye bro. also, for the longest time by billy joel. if red gets two songs so does edge.

[deanstead]

Somebody’s Watching

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request by danipearl16: Request- Jay has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and then they get a case where she’s being stalked and her stalker is killings women that seem to remind him of her and it turns out to be her ex-boyfriend from high school and Jay starts going downhill a little bit because he’s worried about her. Also his girlfriend is more on the younger than his side by 7 years

Word Count: 4,365

Warnings: cursing, mention of sexual assault/misconduct (non-graphic), mention of non-con touching, stalking, minor OC death, mention of injury, angst, fluff

A/N: Please beware of the triggers before you continue reading! I changed some parts to fit into the storyline but I still hope you like what I did with it! I’m pretty excited about this fic so I really really hope yall will like it! It’s my first time writing such a detailed case in so I hope it turned out well? Please hit me up and let me know what you think! Love yall!

---

You looked up from where you were sprawled on the couch, fiddling with your phone. Jay was sitting at the table, a small frown across his face as he pored over case notes.

Jay usually didn’t bring his work home with him but they’d just closed a big case and he had spent a whole week in the district. So instead of spending more time there to finish the paperwork, Jay had opted to bring it home instead.

You smiled to yourself just as Jay looked up. “Sorry babe.” He said, making a little face at the papers strewn across the table.

Chuckling, you climbed off the couch and moved towards him. You stood behind him, looping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I missed you.” You whispered.

Jay turned slightly, tugging you so that you now landed in his lap.

“Missed you too.” He whispered, smiling as one of his arms snaked around your waist, holding you securely to him, another hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Sorry I’ve been busy.”

You shook your head, smiling.

You’d been dating for a while but no one else knew. Both of you had agreed to keep it on the down low, partly because of your age difference. Even though you had agreed you’d keep it quiet at least for the first few months, it had been a lot more than that and it had been going so well that you didn’t really want to purposefully invite anyone into this world that Jay and you had created for yourselves. Rather than keeping it a secret, you guys just hadn’t made the effort to tell anyone or publicize it to the world. This also meant that when he was stuck at the district, you didn’t get to see him but on such days, Jay was always mindful about checking in.

“What’s on your mind?” Jay asked.

“Just thinking I’m lucky to have you.” You responded, leaning in to try to give him a hug. Instead, Jay stroked your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. “Now, I really need to finish this.”

You laughed. “Go forth.”

---

Jay had taken a few well-deserved days of furlough, which he had mostly spent curled up with you. You didn’t have any complaints, it had been just what you both needed.

But Intelligence couldn’t catch a break. It was Jay’s first day back and now, he was already walking up to a crime scene.

Jay pushed the yellow crime scene tape upwards, letting Hailey walk through ahead of him before following behind her.

“What do we have?” Jay asked, approaching the spot where Adam and Kim were standing.

Kim turned. “Kate Whitewood, 22, stabbed multiple times.”

“She’s not in the system. No priors, nothing.” Adam added.

“No belongings on her?” Voight asked, looking around.

Adam shook his head. Jay frowned. “There’s barely any blood here.”

Kevin nodded, jogging forward to join them. “This is probably just the dump site. She must have been killed elsewhere.”

Hailey stood from where she had bent to examine the body. “She has defensive wounds on her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find skin under her fingernails.”

Jay bent forward slightly. “What are those? Marks around her neck? We need to get her to the ME to get the exact cause of death.”

“Kim, bag her hands and get forensics to run a deluxe.” Voight said, as Kim nodded.

“My CI works this street, let me see what I can find out.” Jay said, turning away.

---

“So Kate was last seen at this bar right in town.” Hailey said, walking in and sticking a screenshot onto the board, which showed a camera view of the street outside the bar.

Kate could be seen on the image, her head turned slightly as she waved to someone, a man standing by her side. Hailey tapped the image.

“We can’t find this guy. His face is always turned away from the camera, facial recognition is out.”

Voight nodded. “Jay, have you heard from your CI?”

Jay nodded, resting slightly against Hailey’s desk, his arms crossed in front of him. “My guy says there haven’t been any deals going down. I think we can rule out drugs or gangs. Streets have been quiet ever since that big bust we did last month.”

“It was 28 degrees out last night, ME couldn’t find the exact time of death. But there were signs she was raped, signs of asphyxiation and five penetration wounds from a knife.” Kevin said, opening the file he had gotten from the medical examiner earlier.

Voight turned to Kim. “Who was she?”

Kim sighed. “Kate was a hard worker, she had just started her job as a receptionist at a dentist’s office in South Loop. Dad’s MIA, Mum’s remarried and relocated to New York so she’s living on her own.”

“Have we found who she was with last night?”

Adam nodded. “I’ve gone through her phone. Looks like she was meeting her friend Grace at the club last night.”

“We need to talk to her. I want to know about the last day of Kate’s life. Timeline. Check all sex offenders in the area. Comb her social media. Let’s go.” Voight instructed.

---

Jay knocked on the main door, glancing sideways at Hailey. The door swung open.

“Grace Archer? I’m Detective Upton, this is Detective Halstead, can we come in?” Hailey asked.

She furrowed her brows. “What’s this about?”

“You’re friends with Kate Whitewood?” Hailey asked, without directly answering her question. She nodded and without missing a beat, Hailey continued, “We need to ask you a few questions about last night.”

Grace stepped back to let them in, her face falling as she led them to the sitting room.

“I heard from her parents. The whole thing’s horrible.” Grace whispered, wrapping her hands around herself.

“Can you tell us what you remember?” Jay asked.

Grace looked up. “Kate’s boyfriend had broken up with her a few months ago, so I took her out. She needed to get out again.”

“Were you approached by anyone?” Hailey asked.

“Several.” She answered.

“Anyone that stood out?”

Grace paused, trying to recall. “Kate didn’t even really want to go. She barely looked at the guys… except…”

Hailey sat up a little. “There must have been something about this guy that she left with, something unique. We have a photo of him on the surveillance tape. Flashy?”

Grace nodded, “Yeah, he had this like... attitude… like he was hitting on us but he was making a joke of it at the same time.” She paused. “The last thing she told me was that she had a great time… I shouldn’t have forced her to come out.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Hailey leaned over and patted Grace comfortingly on the arm. “Thanks for talking to us. Please call us if you think of anything else.”

As Jay walked out of Grace’s house with Hailey, he looked at his partner. “This guy’s confident, he’s smooth and it doesn’t look like he knew Kate or Grace.”

---

For the rest of the day, the team had almost combed through the whole of Kate’s whereabouts before she had disappeared and all they had was a big fat nothing.

Jay typed a quick text to you to let you know that he wasn’t going to be able to come over tonight.

You read the text, smiling a little. Jay was busy but it was cute that he always kept you informed. You stopped walking, typing back a reply to tell him it was okay and to do what he had to do, before you kept her phone back into your pocket.

You walked along the street, the same street you walked on every night, frowning a little. You turned around, scanning the street behind you.

You could swear that it was like someone was watching you, or following you. But the street was empty. This wasn’t the first time you had had this feeling - like the little hairs on the back of your neck were standing but you had nothing to back up this feeling you had.

Holding your bag tighter against you, you pushed yourself forward, quickening your footsteps, only letting up as you passed the safety of your apartment building’s front door.

As you passed the threshold of your apartment and closed the door behind you, you pulled out your phone, staring at it for a while. Part of you wanted to call Jay, to hear his voice and have him tell you that you were just tired, imagining things. But the rational part of your brain convinced yourself that everything was okay, reminding you that Jay was so busy and deep in a case, he really shouldn’t have to worry about you.

Ultimately, you put your phone on the counter, chuckling at yourself. Maybe you really were too tired.

---

By the next morning, another body had turned up, not two streets away from the first dump site.

Jay felt an uneasy feeling spread in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the photo of the new victim that was already up on the board. They had a serial killer in Chicago and this guy’s victim type had physical characteristics that were scarily similar to you.

“Jay.” Hailey broke Jay out of his thoughts. “Emma Green, 23, strangulation marks, six stab wounds.”

Jay turned to his partner and nodded. “Did they go to the same club?”

Hailey handed Jay a file. “No, but look at what we picked up on the surveillance camera.” Jay opened the file, studying the photo.

“This is our guy isn’t it?” He pointed at a male figure who was standing next to their second victim, his face still hidden from the camera, wearing a plain cap.

“Hey guys, I might have found a link.” Kim said, walking in. “I checked the employee records and there’s a bartender that works in both clubs and he was on shift on each day our victims went missing. He’s got a prior for aggravated assault and harassment.”

“We’ll take it.” Jay said, grabbing his jacket and heading out of the district.

Hailey fell into step next to him, glancing at him. “Jay, you okay?”

Jay nodded. “Let’s just get this son of a bitch.”

They travelled the rest of the way in silence. Hailey seemed to pick up that this case was affecting Jay differently but she didn’t press further, allowing Jay to lead the way into the closed club.

“Ben Carlton?”

The bartender looked up from where he was, his eyes falling onto the police badge that was hung around Jay’s neck.

In a sudden motion, he ducked out and ran.

“Hey, stop!” Jay yelled, as both he and Hailey launched themselves after him, Hailey shooting out the front door to try to head him off.

“5021 George, I have a suspect fleeing on foot.” Jay called into his radio, sprinting after the bartender.

The bartender barely made it onto the next street before Hailey flung herself at him around the corner, rolling onto the ground as Jay pulled out his gun. “Don’t move!” He yelled, as Hailey pulled the bartender to his feet.

“Let’s go.” Jay snarled.

---

“It wasn’t me!” Ben yelled as he sat in the interrogation room, facing Jay and Hailey.

Jay sighed internally, watching Ben’s reactions and the way he was answering the questions Hailey was shooting at him.

“Those were mistakes, I didn’t do this!” He yelled again.

Jay pushed himself upright, getting up from where he was leaning against the wall and pushing the photos of the victims onto the table. “This. Look at this. We can place these girls at the bars you worked at just before they died.”

“Look.” Ben said, looking up at Jay. “I saw them but they left before I even finished my shift.”

Jay glanced at Hailey. “Who did they leave with?” Hailey asked.

Ben looked from Hailey to Jay. “Look, I don’t know the guy, he’s not a regular. But he’s white, about their age. I noticed him because he headed for them the moment that he walked in. Like he knew they were there.”

Before Jay or Hailey moved, a knock came from the door.

“You guys gotta see this.” Adam said, sticking his head in.

“Sit tight.” Jay said to Ben, following Adam outside, where Kevin was waiting as well.

Kevin handed the file to Jay. “We got another one.” Jay flipped open the file, which told him what he already feared. Another victim, of a physical type that not only matched the first two victims but also you.

Jay looked up. “His cooling off period is getting shorter. We need to get this son of a bitch.”

---

The feeling was getting a little stronger that someone had been watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder but as usual the street was empty. Maybe you needed to stop staying late.

You turned back towards the front. There were sounds of footsteps but you swallowed the lump in your throat, quickening your pace as discreetly as you could.

It definitely felt like someone was following you now. You were almost running by the time you rounded the corner, colliding with someone.

You gave a yelp of surprise.

“Y/N!”

You had collided with Jay.

You let out a breath, spinning around to look over your shoulder.

“What’s going on? You okay?” Jay’s eyes snapped from you to the empty street behind you.

You turned back to look at Jay. Now that he was standing in front of you, it didn’t seem that scary anymore - maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

You shook your head, taking one last glance behind you. “What are you doing here? You finished the case?”

Jay smiled but the smile didn’t really reach his eyes. “Just wanted to check in on you. I have to go back soon.”

You reached for his hand without saying anything and that’s how the both of you walked back to your apartment, your hand clenched securely in his, almost like the both of you had a tight bubble around you.

You could tell Jay’s mind was far away, and it was even more unlike him to come see you in the middle of a case. You knew there was something troubling him but you weren’t one to press. Jay would tell you when he felt he could or he wanted to.

Instead, you just squeezed his hand.

Almost as if you were prying him from his thoughts, Jay looked at you and smiled. He pulled you closer to him, tucking you under his arm.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, without looking up at him, just as he escorted you to your door.

Jay turned to look at you and nodded. “I will be, once this case is over.” He leaned forward to give you a kiss. “If anything happens, you call me, okay? No matter what.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded at him, watching him disappear into the elevator before you retreated back into your apartment.

---

Intelligence had been tirelessly chasing down leads but they now had four bodies and Voight was getting pressure to solve this quickly as well. They needed a break in this case and fast.

“Okay, let’s regroup, what do we have so far?” Voight barked.

“All four victims were raped and found with multiple stab wounds. We know he picks up his victims from bars and appears non-threatening enough that his victims are willing to leave with him.” Jay said, getting up.

Hailey headed to the board, frowning. “We dumped their phones but we weren’t able to find any connection between the victims other than their physical type.” Hailey cast a look at Jay, which Voight didn’t miss. “I think he’s working his way up to something.”

“Hey guys?” Kim spoke up as she walked back in, flipping open the file sitting on her desk. “I went back over the first murder to see if we missed anything. Look at this.”

Kim pulled in her chair, zooming into the photo. “This badge here on his jacket, it’s barely visible so we missed it the first few times. I sent it to the lab to see if they could enhance the image and this is what I got.”

Kim clicked and up popped the crest of a high school. “Look, it’s not just a general badge. Look at the year.”

“Okay, that is the crest for Lincoln High. It’s a jacket given to those who graduated that year.” Kevin said, frowning at it.

“I’ll run the list of students who graduated in that year.” Jay barked, heading straight for his desk, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

Cross-checking was the worst job ever but the moment Jay’s eyes landed on your name on the list of graduates, he pulled it together, eliminating the women, men who had moved out of state or country, until finally he only had three names on the list.

“Okay, I have a Steven Miller, Charles Shoemaker and John Marlin.” Jay finally spoke up as everyone looked up. “But only Steven Miller has priors.”

“For harassment, sexual misconduct, and attempted assault. Sarge, this has to be our guy.” Jay looked up at Voight.

“Do we have an LKA?” Voight asked.

“Already on it.” Adam said.

“Go pick him up.” Adam nodded, motioning to Kevin as they headed out.

Something was bugging Jay. Steven Miller. That name was…

Fuck.

Jay pushed back his chair, entering Voight’s office without knocking and closing the door behind him.

“Sarge.”

Voight looked up, frowning a little at the look on Jay’s face. He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, looking up at Jay.

“I’ve heard Miller’s name before. It was bugging me, but I remember now.”

Voight sat up straighter.

“I’m seeing his ex-girlfriend.” The words slipped past Jay’s lips. “Sarge, everything makes sense now. The physical type, the way he’s building up because his actual target…” Jay trailed off.

You had told Jay about Steven just once. You hadn’t gone into detail but you had told Jay about the short period that you had been together with Steven – his need for control over all aspects of your life, how he had always been a little rough, how he hadn’t taken any form of rejection well, and how you’d ended it the day he struck you.

“Take Hailey.”

Jay was already halfway to the door.

---

You had left early today.

It had been a while since you had done such an early shift but you’d been feeling more and more uneasy while walking home at night and the news coverage on the murders that were happening at the moment didn’t help.

You didn’t need Jay to tell you that you looked exactly like those girls who had been murdered. It was clear as day.

You fiddled with the key in the lock, opening the door.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you registered the person standing in front of you. In your house.

“Steven.” You muttered, your voice trembling, barely registering the butt of a gun heading towards your temple before it went dark.

---

Hailey hadn’t said anything but she knew something was off.

“Jay, what’s going on?” She asked. “How do you know this girl’s the target?”

Jay didn’t answer but pressed harder on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles were white. The ringing tone going off through his bluetooth speaker in the car making him feel even worse.

“Jay.” Hailey said again. “I’m your partner.”

Jay glanced at her now. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Hailey’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

Jay let a beat of silence passed. “Miller’s her ex. I should have seen the signs, the physical type, everything, I…”

“Jay. She’ll be fine. Come on.” Hailey reassured him, as he turned his truck onto the familiar street.

“She’s still not answering.” Jay said, through gritted teeth. He’d been trying to call you since he had left the station.

Without hesitation, Jay bounded up the stairs, Hailey right behind him. From down the corridor, Jay could already tell your door was slightly ajar.

“Hang back.” Jay whispered, pulling out his service weapon.

Jay quietly approached the door. “Y/N?” He opened the door with his foot, freezing as his eyes landed on you, sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, your eyes frantic as Steven held a knife to your throat from where he stood behind you.

Jay gritted his teeth, using his foot to slam the door shut, knowing that Hailey would know what to do.

“Step away from her.” Jay growled, pointing his gun directly at Steven.

Steven smiled. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. Put that down.”

Jay grinded his teeth but didn’t move. You felt the cold blade of the knife press against your skin and inhaled sharply.

“Put. It. Down.” Steven repeated.

“Okay, okay.” Jay said, glancing at you before putting his hands above his head, disarming his gun and putting it down onto the floor.

Steven smiled again, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Jay growled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.” Steven answered.

“Jay, I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jay looked straight at you. “It’s going to be okay. You focus on me, you hear me? I’m right here.”

“We broke up a long time ago, what the hell are you doing?” You asked. You were afraid, hell you were trembling, but this was crazy and you had to help Jay to find a way out of this.

“We wouldn’t be broken up if he hadn’t come between us.” Steven snarled, moving closer towards you, his lips almost touching your ear.

Jay growled. “Leave her alone.”

Steven looked back up at Jay again.

“What, you mean don’t do this?” Steven asked, crushing his lips against yours.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Jay yelled. “Is that what you did? How you forced yourself on all the other girls? What do you want, Steven? What are you trying to accomplish?”

“All I wanted was to be with Y/N! But you took her.” He spat.

“So you decided to go on a rampage?” Jay asked. You saw him twitch like he was looking for something so you started talking, as much as it made you want to gag.

“Steven, why didn’t you just talk to me?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Talk? All you care about is him!” He yelled, lifting the knife and pointing it at Jay.

It happened in a split second.

The moment he lifted the knife, Jay yelled, “Now, Y/N!”

You threw yourself forward, covering your head with your hands as you heard the gunshots go off, just two. You weren’t sure who was shooting but you didn’t move until you heard Jay’s voice again.

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s over.” Jay whispered.

You looked up, Jay’s face hovering above you.

“Jay…”

Jay nodded, “It’s okay, come here.”

Jay pulled his arms around you.

“He…” Jay shook his head, shielding your view of Steven’s now motionless body. “Don’t look back, come on.”

Jay tried to lead you out of the apartment, barely making it to the main door before his teammates appeared. “Jay!” Kevin called, as he spotted both of you.

Jay nodded. “Thanks.” Kevin nodded, his eyes lingering on the way Jay was holding you close to his side before making way for Jay to lead you back down to the ground floor where the ambulances were waiting.

Jay led you all the way to the waiting paramedics, not even leaving your side to get himself checked.

You weren’t hurt, not really. There was a little open cut from where Steven had pressed the blade a little too hard when he had been agitated but other than that you were fine. Well, that, and that disgusting feeling that came with remembering how Steven had pressed his lips against yours.

Voight approached you and Jay. Jay squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back.” You smiled and nodded.

Jay and Voight talked in low voices until Voight turned to look at you. “And she’s okay?”

Jay nodded. “Yeah, she is. I just need to…”

“Do what you need to do. We’ll finish up here.” Voight said, nodding and clapping Jay on the back.

---

The paramedics had dressed the wound on the scene before Jay had brought you back to his apartment.

After getting you into a clean change of clothes and some warm food in you, you had ended up back in your favourite place in the world – on Jay’s couch, in Jay’s apartment, encircled in Jay’s arms.

You lay your head on Jay’s chest.

“So this was all because of me?” You asked in a low voice.

Jay sat up, looking at you. “What?”

“He killed all those women… because of me. I got them killed.” You whispered.

“No, no, baby.” Jay propped himself up, but didn’t let you go. “This is not your fault. Steven he… he did this, not you.”

You looked up at him. “He even… in front of you… he…” You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, you felt disgusting. He’d kissed you, he’d done it in front of Jay and he’d ruined everything.

You hadn’t said that much but Jay just tilted your chin upwards and kissed you. “Jay…”

“I’ll take it all away.” Jay whispered. “I’m sorry, I should have been there sooner.”

You shook your head, swiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks.

Jay cupped your cheek again, pulling you into his chest. You balled your hand around his shirt, gripping at Jay.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Jay whispered.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you ever again.” He half snarled, still caressing you gently.

You leaned into his embrace, closing your eyes as the sound of Jay’s heartbeat gently lulled you back into the feeling of safety and security.

[ropebunnykant]

at first i didn’t think the “fadel is faking it to get info on style” thing was a genuine theory people were believing but i saw so many people thinking it in the comments of an edit of the scene in the woods on tiktok and just. i fear it comes from a genuine misunderstanding of fadel as a character.

like in general fadel is just. not a liar. like i feel like one thing we’ve learned about fadel is that despite coming off cold and kind of mean and you know being a literal assassin, he has very strong morals, and it seems like one of those morals includes honesty. or in the very least - not lying. cause obviously he has to a certain extent for his work as an assassin, but in general most things about that job go against fadel as he is - he just justifies it all by telling himself what their mother told him, that these are bad people who deserve it. and he has so many opportunities to lie to style and say no i don’t like you, or no, i don’t find you attractive, or x y z, but his method of dealing with style is always avoidance, rather than directly lying to him. so for him to fake a very real, very vulnerable confession, it just doesn’t make any sense.

especially because the other thing we know for sure about fadel is that he does Not do vulnerable. he has an extremely rough and hard exterior for a reason - even BISON says he thinks fadel is rough on the inside as well. if even bison, who is fadel’s brother and the person he cares about the most, believes fadel isn’t capable of love and vulnerability, i don’t believe for a second fadel would want to or even be willing to fake that kind of thing. his vulnerability in that scene came from a genuine place and breaking point - you can hear it in his voice. which like, shoutout to joong because his acting in that scene was fucking incredible and i feel like it’s a discredit to him as an actor to claim any of that felt fake but i digress. and sure, maybe fadel is just a good actor, and sure he likely has the best poker face, but with how allergic he is to acknowledging his feelings, i don’t believe he’d be able to fake it.

plus, we also know for a fact he wasn’t lying because we saw during the episode the ways he was missing style - he didn’t even ask anyone anything at his morning jog, so we know for sure he wasnt just looking for style for show.

and while i understand wanting to justify the fact that it seems like he broke quickly, i just think if you feel the need to question that, you haven’t actually been paying much attention to fadel at all. or you just have a fundamental misunderstanding of how repression works. because fadel has been repressing himself for very likely years, has been holding in an insane amount of pain and grief for so long - like, it’s clear that even bison is unaware of the fact that fadel once had someone he loved and lost. which means the only people he’s talked to about it are the strangers at the loss support group - IF that because i would not put it past fadel to never say a word at those meetings, i mean in both instances that we see him in the group setting, he doesn’t say anything even before style shows up.

fadel has had his heart walled up and been dealing with his grief and loss all on his own. and he has spent WEEKS pushing style away and trying to keep him at arms length. so of course, of course when someone comes in and not only says they want him, his heart, and comes in with sledge hammers to tear down those walls, they’re gonna crumble.

and you know maybe i’ll eat my words, but i just can’t fathom the idea that any of that confession was fake to fadel, and i think if you do you’re just misunderstanding him.

[fortuositywritings]

I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 8

Summary: Did someone order a fluff stuffed pizza with extra cheese? 

Warnings: Language, also a bit of violence

The following day starts as most have the past week, only this time you are not dreading waking up early in the morning for a hike aka jogging at an incline with Nat. In fact, you wake up kind of pumped for it and decide to forego the usual coffee. Nat looks at you like you are crazy. You shrug. “Not all of us need caffeine to live, Natasha.”

But you do, you find out mid-hike.

“Fuck me!” you groan, dragging behind Nat.

“No, thanks. You’ve got Wanda for that,” Nat quips. When you don’t reply, she continues, “What? No comment?”

“I’m saving my energy. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. If I die here from exhaustion, hit me with a rock or something. Make it look like a cooler death,” you say. She laughs. “What happened to not needing coffee?”

“Caffeineless-Me is a delusional me. Don’t ever listen to her,” you huff.

Luckily, you smell coffee when you get back to the house. You hear voices in the kitchen and make a dramatic entrance. Clint, Pietro, and Sam’s conversation halts at your interruption. Finding Clint responsible for the coffee, you butter him up in exchange for the coffee cup he hands you. “You know, I told Laura, you were it. I said ‘Laura, you’ll never find another like this one. A king among simple men.’ True story.” Used to your antics, Clint ignores you but Pietro and Sam laugh.

You spend the afternoon at the arcade with Wanda, Pietro, and Peter. You in fact do beat Pietro at skeeball, rubbing your win in his face. He beats you at everything else. It’s hard to be a sore loser though when you are too busy having fun and entertaining Wanda. 

Wanda pulls you all into a photo booth. The group does their best to fit in what is meant to be a two person booth. Wanda ends up on your lap, you sitting next to Pietro, and Peter sticking his head into the frame. You shoo the boys out after the group photos, wanting a strip of you and Wanda. Despite the free space, Wanda stays seated on your lap, not that you mind it. The first two photos are silly. You kiss her cheek for the third and simply smile for the last one in which Wanda sports a blush looking at you. 

You ask Wanda if she is ready to go to the bookstore yet, not forgetting what you promised. She refrains from saying yes when a game calls her attention. She says you can leave after one more game. Wanda challenges you to Guitar Hero and the results are embarrassing. You stare at her score in shock. You refuse to believe it. “What? There is no way! How?” She giggles when you turn your face to her with your hands on your cheeks. “No wonder you’re so good with your hands.”

She blushes at your comment. “Do you play guitar?” You ask, but before she can confirm or deny, you stop her, “Wait, no. I don’t want to know. ‘Cause if you do, that’s too attractive and we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Because it will ruin our dynamic, You see, we both bring certain things to the table. You bring in the kind hearted, easy on the eyes superhero thing to the table. Me, I bring in the funny, cute, one year away from graduating college kid thing. My two years playing the trumpet as a child could never match even the thought of you holding a guitar,” you explain.

Wanda looks at you curiously. She smiles cheekily, before saying, “I’ll have to play for you someday then.” She laughs when you groan saying she ruined it all and tugs you by the hand to where the prizes are. You both trade your tickets in for small inflatable sledge hammers that you immediately use against each other standing off to the side of the prizes booth. You feel the employee who helped you out stare at you both and feel like you are getting in trouble, so you stop hitting Wanda.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” the employee says. “The two of you just make a really cute couple.”

“Oh,” you say surprised, but you don’t correct him, unbeknownst to you, making Wanda suppress a smile. “Thanks.”

“Come on, you promised me a bookstore,” Wanda says, taking your hand and pulling you toward the exit. You spend an hour in the cute bookstore, which Wanda could have easily made two but she took pity on you, seeing you get a little restless walking around the store in circles. She leaves the store with two new books in hand that you had insisted on buying and a smile on her face as you hold the door open for her.

“I would say ‘I got you next time’ but I wouldn’t want to force you to actually read words on paper,” she jokes.

You roll your eyes at her playful remark. “No, we wouldn’t want that.” 

“So, how about we get some ice cream instead?” she offers, hoping to spend a little more time with you out in the town. Your ears perk up at those words. “Now we’re talking, Maximoff!”

“That reminds me. You still haven’t told me your last name.”

“And I’m not talking.” You mime zipping your lips and throwing away the key. Wanda jokes, “Well that’s a first. That was the only key, right?”

Wanda laughs when you roll your eyes and eagerly take the bag with her books out of her hand to carry it instead, replacing it with your own as you practically drag her to the ice cream shop. She tries not to react when halfway to the shop you interlace your fingers and smile at her, but her heart doesn’t get the message.

Tanya smiles when she sees you both back again at the shop. She raises an eyebrow, looking at your hands in question. You catch her look and shake your head in denial at Tanya while Wanda is busy looking at the flavors of ice cream. Tanya purses her lips disapprovingly and you nearly groan. Wanda turns to you and asks if you know what you want, unaware of the silent conversation that occurred before her. 

You tell her to order hers first. Although you see her eyeing the strawberry flavor for a good amount of time, she orders the cotton candy flavor. You look at her surprised. “What? Maybe I want to try something different.”

“Well, in that case, Tanya, I will have two scoops of the strawberry on a cone, please and thank you,” you order. Wanda gives you the same look you’d given her, so you decide to throw her words back at her. “What? Maybe I want to try something different.”

Wanda pays for your ice creams, which of course Tanya would not let slide without commentary. “She’s making you pay for the ice cream? It’s no wonder Y/N stays single. You would think she’d know how to treat a lady.” Tanya shakes her head at you, making you scoff. Wanda laughs but defends you. “She does. This is a small thank you for how well she’s actually done that.”

“Yeah, Tanya! You hear that? I treat people well,” you reiterate as you take your prepared cone from Tanya. “I even did as you said and took her to the fair.” As if it is so unbelievable, Tanya looks at Wanda for confirmation and looks nearly impressed when Wanda nods. You add to pick on Wanda, “All for her to dance with someone else for most of the night.”

This time she scoffs and you try to suppress your smile at how easy you could rile her up. “It was one song,” she defends herself. When she sees that you’re just pulling her leg, she huffs, “You’re annoying,” and goes to sit at the small table by the entrance. Tanya speaks up when you just stand there looking after Wanda with a smile. “Don’t leave her to eat alone now.”

Tanya’s voice startles you out of your trance and you make your way to sit across from Wanda. “It was two songs,” you say, continuing the banter. Wanda retorts before trying her ice cream, “Two. One. What’s the difference?”

“He got one more song with you than I did,” you shrug. You see her make a face of disappointment at the flavor she chose. She replies, “It could have been none with him if someone just asked earlier.”

“Noted. I will let someone know and pass on the message for you,” you tease, earning you a light kick under the table from Wanda while you start with your ice cream. You can only watch her struggle to eat her ice cream and look at yours longingly for so long, before you eventually just snatch hers from her hand. 

“Hey! I was eating that,” she complains. 

“Oh, is that what you were doing? That was a very sad attempt at best. Here, try again,” you say and hand her the rest of your strawberry ice cream. She tries to hand yours back. “I’m not going to take your cone. It’s not the one I ordered.”

You shove the rest of the ice cream you stole into your mouth and eat it as quickly as you can. Wanda stares at you in shock. You try not to make a face at the brain freeze you get. “Well, I just finished yours so now you have no choice.”

Wanda giggles. “You have a brain freeze, don’t you?”

Nothing gets past this woman. You try to deny it anyway. “Nope. Brain warm, actually.”

You don’t fail to make her laugh. She thanks you and you smile as she finishes the strawberry ice cream. You decide to head back to the arcade before the guys get worried. You are surprised they have yet to call or text to ask where you and Wanda were. Wanda says she wouldn’t be surprised if they did not even notice your absence. 

Someone spots you making your way out of the ice cream shop with Wanda and decides to approach you. “Well, well, well. Look who it is,” a loud voice taunts you, making you and Wanda turn your heads to see a guy your age and not so much taller than Wanda approach you. You know him as Abby’s (grocery store lady’s daughter) ex-boyfriend. 

You don’t try to delude yourself into thinking this exchange could be an exchange of simple pleasantries especially given your history and the condescending sneer he throws your way. You huff, mumbling under your breath, “Never move to a small town, Wanda.”

She gives you a questioning look but you ignore it as the ex-boyfriend stands before you both. You give him an obviously fake smile, acknowledging his presence. “Jack,” you say tiredly, not wanting to give anyone the impression you want to actually interact with him. He, on the other hand, has a bone to pick with you and does not plan to let you off easily. 

“Y/N, I see some things never change.” He laughs bitterly, giving Wanda the once over. Not appreciating this, you try to avert his attention back to you and speak in a more fed up tone. “What do you want?”

“What? I can’t say hi to your little girlfriend? You were always so eager to say hello to mine. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t show the same courtesy,” he says, scorn clear in his voice. You really do not have it in you to put up with him and the mess you made that you never dealt with, but you’ve had enough of this biting you in the ass at every corner in this town.

“Look, what I did wasn’t cool. I know, okay? I’m genuinely sorry for not taking your feelings into consideration or talking to you about it before and ignoring the whole thing after it happened. Alright? Can we just move on from this?” you ask, sincerely. Jack looks at you in shock as you await his answer, wanting nothing but to finally move past this mess. Wanda on her end is impressed by your ability to recognize a mistake and apologize. You can feel her looking at you and Jack notices it too, the act riling him up more than anything.

When Jack saw you, he finally found his chance to let everything he was holding back out and seeing you with someone else only assured him he was right about you being this asshole who just goes around stealing people’s girlfriends. He was not expecting an apology. Although it seems to be sincere, it still does not satisfy him and seeing the girl you’re with looking at you the way she is because of it just ticks him off.

So he doesn’t accept your apology. Instead, he turns to Wanda. “It’s a little late for apologies, L/N. Hey, sweetheart. Some advice, best go apologize to your boyfriend before it’s too late, ‘cause whatever you think this is,” he says waving between you and Wanda, “it’s not gonna last.”

Trying to form some semblance of a safety blanket against his fiery gaze, you pull Wanda to stand behind you. Now you’re feeling very irritated. You’re not going to hit him or anything of that nature. God knows you would only hurt yourself. You’ve always strayed away from getting into fights. Besides, why bruise your fists when you could bruise his ego?

“Hey, assface. What do you know about lasting? Last I heard you weren’t doing too well with that. Some advice for you,” you taunt him, using the same tone he did with Wanda, “when you are finally doing something right, which you’ll know since Abby’s not really a quiet one, give her neck a little squeeze and-” You snap smugly. “She can thank me later.”

The whole time you were talking, you could practically see steam coming out of his ears. It’s logical to stay clear when you see the signs of a volcano about to erupt, but when you are standing two feet away from the danger zone, it’s a little hard to avoid getting hurt. You see it coming but you are not quick enough to dodge it. Suddenly, your ass is on the sidewalk, vision impaired as your hand covers the left side of your face that is throbbing in pain. Wanda would say her vision is also impaired as all she sees is red. Not caring if anyone sees, she uses her magic to hold him by the throat, red wisps tightening around his neck. She sees the panic in his eyes but doesn’t ease up. 

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on her again. In fact, from now on you don’t talk to her unless she’s speaking to you. Don’t look at her unless she calls your name,” Wanda threatens him, her voice deadly calm, you would almost define it as soothing. Jack wouldn’t. “You know who I am, don’t you?” Jack nods to the best of his abilities, starting to feel light headed. “If you even think about touching her again, I’ll know.” 

She releases her magical hold. He coughs, bringing back oxygen into his lungs. Jack sees the red fade from the witch’s eyes but her stare still holds a fire. Not wanting to enrage the witch any further, he sprints away as soon as she says, “Leave.”

As soon as he is out of sight, Wanda turns to check on you. She finds you already on your feet but your hand is still over your face. She pries your hand away and sees the damage, a bruise already forming over your cheek. You flinch when she prods it gently. Wanda gives you a questioning look when you unexpectedly giggle.

“Sorry, it’s just. Nat always said my big mouth would get me into trouble like this one day. I was really hoping she would be wrong about this one,” you explain, looking away from her but still giggling. Wanda doesn’t find it funny. She gently takes your chin to face her. “It’s not your fault. He had no right to lay a finger on you.”

Wanda’s intense stare doesn’t waver. It’s almost demanding you to understand that what happened can’t be brushed off as a joke and it works. Your mind replays the events and you feel a lump in your throat. Wanda brushes a tear away from your cheek. You hadn’t been aware of the tears forming in your eyes. The sound of a car passing by snaps you out of your emotional state. You haven’t had a good cry in a long while, but like hell will you allow yourself to break down on the sidewalk in front of the ice cream shop where you used to work.

You chase away the tears and clear your throat. Today was a great day for the most part; you weren’t going to let this bump in your trail keep you from continuing on to have a great day and ending it on a good note. Your eyes are a vault of tears, and though you know one day that door is going to open and possibly drown you, today would not be that day. 

You pull away from Wanda’s touch but before she can say anything about it you hold that hand in yours. “Thank you. I’m lucky you were here.” You avoid cringing at how your voice breaks halfway through, evidence of the lump in your throat you cleared away. You manage a small smile instead. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I hope I didn’t frighten you,” Wanda says, suddenly embarrassed at her quick tempered reaction. This brings out a genuine giggle out of you. “Are you kidding me? Frighten me? The only scary thing about your reaction was how attractive I found it!” 

You can tell Wanda doesn’t believe you, searching your face for any sign that you may be lying and saying this just to humor her. “No, seriously. His pants were wet out of fear. My pants were wet in an entirely different way,” you press. She laughs with glowing red cheeks. As the color fades, you and she decide to head back to the arcade after you refused her offer of getting you something cold at the store to rest against your cheek.

Pietro and Peter didn’t notice you had left the arcade, but they do notice your bruised cheek quickly. After dismissing their concerns, you ask if they were ready to head back. They say they still have to trade their tickets in, so you let them go do that. It isn’t too long until you are back to the car.

It turns out you are the only one in the car with a license, but you’re not feeling up to driving back to the house. Peter looks nervous at the prospect of driving, barely having taken two lessons at school, so he isn’t going to drive. Wanda wants to sit by you, so she lets Peter sit up front. That leaves Pietro to drive.

Big mistake.

You make it home in one piece with your bruised cheek, a massive headache, and a date with the church on Sunday after promising God you would go if you make it back home alive. Pietro brakes hard when pulling up right behind Nat’s car. Luckily, he didn't hit her car. You didn’t need to survive Pietro’s wild car ride, just so Nat could kill you after. 

The twins are arguing. “God, Wanda. No one likes a backseat driver,” Pietro says as he puts the car in park and takes the key out of the ignition. Wanda yells, “No, but I’m sure we would all like to live to see past our 20’s and Peter past high school!”

At the mention of his name, Peter finally opens his eyes and loosens his tight grip on his seatbelt. “Oh, we’re here? I, um, have to go to the bathroom.” He excuses himself before basically ripping the door open and running into the house on shaky legs. Pietro also storms out of the car but more so in irritation from his sister.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks you, taking off her seatbelt. You unbuckle yours and laugh to ease her concerns. “Yeah, just give me a moment. I don’t think my life is done flashing before my eyes yet.” 

Wanda giggles as you act out seeing your life replaying in your mind. “Okay, almost done. Exercise with Nat, board games, seeing you naked.” You laugh when she punches your arm. “Arcade, your brother almost killing us all, and finished. Wow, I lived a pretty good life.”

She shakes her head at your silliness, before practically pulling you out of the car. Most of everyone is in the living room when you come inside. You guess your bruise must be very noticeable, your cousin gasping upon seeing your face. She rushes to your side with the help of Clint and sees the damage.

“Y/N, what happened?” she asks, a motherly type of concern slipping into her tone.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.” You thank Nat when she sits you down and helps place an ice pack on your injury.

“It looks pretty bad, kid,” Clint says, not helping ease the concern on his wife’s or his best friend’s face. 

“You should have seen the other guy,” you say, acting like you actually did anything other than stare mouth agape as Wanda took care of Jack. The disbelief on everyone’s face when you said that, including Sam’s, was insulting. You scoff, “Okay, ouch. I could have taken care of business if Wanda wasn’t there, thank you very much.”

“So, Wanda was there?” Nat pries and you tell them everything. Laura thanks Wanda for doing what she did and Wanda, being of humble heart, claims it goes unsaid that she would do that for any of them and there was no need to thank her. Nat doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ but she tells you it’s time to learn self-defense as she wants you to quote unquote “be prepared next time god forbid something like this happens again”, which to you was another way of saying ‘I told you so’, 

Nat says she will personally see to giving you your first lesson tomorrow. Clint laughs at the thought and suddenly everyone is amped to watch Nat teach you some moves in the morning, inviting themselves to be your audience as if embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha was not going to be enough. Everyone leaves you alone to get ready to sleep after that. 

After changing into your pjs, you pull out your phone and scroll through your camera roll sitting on the couch. You have at least fifty or so new photos of just today. You smile as you watch the video you recorded of Wanda and Pietro playing Dance Dance Revolution. Watching them interact today, you are reminded of you and Laura and Nat and if their bond is anything like yours, you are happy that Wanda has someone like that in her life. 

Wanda comes downstairs to check up on you before turning in for the night. She hears you before she sees you, your giggles cutting through the air. She follows the sound, curious as to what has you in such spirits. When she is close enough, Wanda sees you are laughing at something playing on your phone. 

“What are you watching?” Wanda asks from behind you.

“Just some of the stuff I recorded today. Come look.” You invite her over.

Leaning over your shoulder, she finds out it is a video of her and her brother playing the dancing game at the arcade. She fails to see what you find so funny but as the video plays on, you kept zooming in and out of Wanda’s face as she pouts every time she missteps but the look of determination never wavering. 

You think it’s a cute video but you aren’t surprised when Wanda lunges for your phone in an attempt to take it and delete the video. You lean forward away from Wanda on time so that she cannot reach it. She groans, “Delete it.”

“Mmm, no.” You shake your head and laugh when Wanda wastes her energy to maneuver around the couch to take the phone away only for you to hide it behind your back away from Wanda’s hands. She looks down at you unimpressed. “Y/N, do you really think that’s going to work? I can take it with a wave of my hand.”

“Tsk tsk tsk. Always relying on your magic. Afraid you can’t get it without twirling your fingers?” you shoot back with a smirk. Your cockiness is short lived as you see Wanda sport the same look of determination she wore in the video you took. She surprises you by settling onto your lap, basically straddling you. She holds you by the shoulders. You nearly whimper when she leans into your ear and whispers, “I’ll show you twirling my fingers.”

She leans away from your ear and looks you right in the eye as one hand begins to wander down your chest. You hold your breath when she gets to your belly button. You should have known better, misreading the smirk on her face. It all takes a turn when she brings her other hand down and begins to tickle you. 

You try fighting her off with one hand, keeping the other with your phone behind your back, but she’s relentless. You flail around and you end up lying on the couch, Wanda still on top of you. You can’t help the tear that slips and you take that as your cue to beg her to stop. “Mercy! Mercy! Stop!”

Wanda eases up on the tickling, giving you time to catch your breath, but she makes no move to get off of you nor to actually take your phone away. She rests her hands on your stomach and watches you, amused when you wipe away your tear. 

“That wasn’t nice,” you breathe out. She chuckles. You stare at her as if it is your turn to gaze at her in wonder. She takes you by surprise again when she asks, “Can I kiss you?”

She’s kissed you before. Hell, you’ve done a lot more than that, so you’re wondering why she’s even asking at this point. At the confusion on your face, she explains, “I mean, can I kiss you just to kiss you?”

Finally understanding what she is asking, you sit up and give her your permission. “You can kiss me whenever you want. It doesn’t have to lead to anything.” She hesitates to move so as a show of faith you peck her lips, startling her. “See?”

Wanda smiles and leans forward to kiss you. It’s a slow but still rather chaste kiss. It takes your breath away and when she pulls back she giggles as your lips unconsciously chase after hers. She gives you what your lips were seeking for, pulling you further into her by your neck and tangling her hands in your hair. You are kissing slowly but then you’re not when you slip your hands under her shirt to grip her waist. You pull away and kiss down her neck. 

Wanda starts to feel hot. She doesn’t know when she started to grind onto you, but her hips are actively working to find some friction to relieve the feeling that’s bubbled up. You’re both wearing too many clothes, she thinks. She pushes you away and goes to take off her shirt, but when she had pushed you, you’d come to your senses. You stop her and pull her shirt back down. 

“As much as I’d like to, Clint and Nat seeing me in boxers haunts me to this day. I don’t want to imagine what they’d do if someone saw us less than decent on the couch,” you explain. 

“Oh,” she says, almost a little dejectedly, but Wanda understands. She honestly forgot they were in the living room, open for anyone to accidentally walk in on them. You crack a joke at her sounding so bummed. “Sorry if I gave the idea that I’d be comfortable putting it all out there for show. I don’t know what kind of things you and your ex-robo-boyfriend liked to do, but not everyone can be as free spirited.”

Knowing what comes next after a joke like that, you are quick to grab her wrists before she punches your arm. “Or as violent,” you add, laughing when she pouts at not getting her way. You wrap your arms around her before falling back to lie on the couch. Wanda stretches out her legs to get more comfortable, which is hard to do given your arms are still wrapped around her holding her arms down as well. 

“You’re the worst,” she mumbles into your neck. You laugh. “Hey, don’t start comparing me to your exes. It’s hard to compete with a lab-produced man. He’s probably over six feet tall and can do long division in a blink. Probably does the cheesy things you like, like serenading you and lipsyncs as the song actually plays from his mouth.”

Your arms loosen up as you speak, allowing Wanda to shift more so beside you. Wanda giggles at your rambling and throws an arm around your stomach. “He’s not an Alexa, Y/N.”

“Are you sure? Or you just never tried saying ‘Vision, play Summer by Calvin Harris’?” She bites your shoulder instead of swatting at you. “Ow. What kind of name is Vision anyway? I mean that can only mean he’s packing some serious stuff cause moaning out ‘Vision’ is just not it, you know? I mean, it’s better than ‘Brad’ but honestly most anything is better than Brad.” 

“Ugh!” Wanda lets out in frustration and a hint of embarrassment. Her face turns pink but she tries to hide it behind her hand. She says something else you don’t catch as it’s muffled by her palm. You grab her hand and move her arm back to its original position around you. “What was that?”

“I said ‘I don’t’,” Wanda repeats. 

“You don’t, what?” you ask. Wanda waits a second for you to catch up. “Wait, you and he never?” you ask. When she shakes her head, you are too bewildered by that possibility that you have to confirm. “Never ever?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Sorry, it’s just that,” you pause. A thought that nearly shuts down your brain takes over and you have to ask, but you weren’t sure how, not knowing if she would want it brought up in case the answer was yes. “Wait! Were you? I didn’t, um.. Did I…”

“Did you, what?” Wanda cautiously asks, noting how hesitant you are to ask whatever it is you were trying to figure out. You clear your throat. “Was I your first?”

You don’t know what you hoped the answer to be. Yes? Being someone’s first can be a big deal and if you were hers, Wanda’s first time, you’d have to move to a mansion for the size of your ego. But another thought arises. Did you live up to her expectations? Her body language seemed to say yes, but maybe she’s just really good at lying. Did you actually disappoint? Wanda disrupts your thoughts by laughing… loudly. 

“Well, damn. A simple ‘no’ would’ve been sufficient,” you pout. Internally, you are a little relieved to not have been the first. When she leaves here, you’ll probably be brought up at an odd time or another in conversation. Three of the small group of Avengers will probably remember you as Wanda’s fling, but you wouldn’t be able to stand being seen as that goof that deflowered the second youngest member of the team. 

“Do not take this the wrong way, Y/N, but I’m glad you were not my first,” she says. Obviously, your response is “Ouch. I don’t know how there is any other way to take that.” She continues, “Because I got to enjoy myself with you. The first time for me was not fun. I didn’t even really like him, but I was tired of everyone comparing me to Pietro, who is as you say more of a ‘free spirit’, and I guess I wanted to prove I could be too.”

With one hand you run your fingers through her hair and with the other you rub her arm in comfort. “Well then in that case, I’m glad I wasn’t your first as well. Also, I enjoyed it too.” She giggles, making you smile in return. “Just sayin’.”

“What about you?” she asks. 

“My first time?” She nods. You hesitate to get into it and she gives you an out. “You don’t have to.”

“No, it’s only fair. My first was actually Skye,” you say. Wanda looks surprised. “I know. A lot of firsts with that one.”

“How did you meet?” Wanda keeps the conversation flowing after a heavy pause.

You chuckle remembering how it happened. “It all started with what Laura coined the great animal rescue,” you start. You tell her the beginning, the middle, and the end of your first and really only relationship. 

“Was she the girl in the picture you showed Peter?” Wanda knows the answer. Why does she do this to herself? Maybe to try to get it through her head that there is someone out there that knows you the way she does and maybe better. Of course, a straight yes or no is too much to ask from you. “Daisy Ridley? I wish! Could you imagine? Rey Skywalker?”

“Maybe Sam has a right to tease you. You are a nerd.” You scoff, “Excuse me. Anyone would be lucky to date ‘only the prettiest woman alive!’” you repeat Peter’s voice, trying to make his voice. Wanda laughs at your impersonation of the young hero.

You remove Wanda’s arm and get off the couch. She frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Getting us a blanket and pillows. It’s way late and although I can talk with you until the sun rises, I need to get some sleep before Nat kicks my ass tomorrow. I’ll be right back,” you say with a smile before turning to grab said items.

You come back, hand Wanda a big pillow you decide you would both use, and stretch the blanket out over her before getting under it and back to the way you were before. 

“Are you comfortable? Do you want the other pillow?” you ask her, which she really appreciates. Once she tells you she’s all good, you kiss her head and wish her sweet dreams.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wanda replies.

She can’t understand how Skye held so much of you and let you go. Holding you and talking through the night with you, she knows it’s going to hurt when she will have to do the same in a few days. She holds you tighter and closes her eyes, hoping to dream of you tonight.

“Does Vision come with WiFi?”

“Y/N, go to sleep,” Wanda mutters, though she tries not to laugh.

“Sorry, just wondering. Goodnight, Wanda.”

Did Vision have wifi? He doesn’t work like a router, does he? Could she have had a personal hotspot the entire time she was dating him? Wanda needs answers.

“I bet you’re thinking about it now too, huh?” 

“Y/N.”

“Sorry, sleeping now.”

____________________________________________________________________

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @paumxmff @wandamaximoffsrings @yeetus-thyself @lostandsearching @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2 @gingerbreadcookieforlife 

[arvinsescape]

Haz and Harry writes two love letters while they are drunk, one for Tom, and one for Y/n, but they made it seem like they wrote it for each other.

Plot twist, Tom and Y/n are dating in secret.

Love letters.

A/N: So I loved this idea!! Thank you so much for sending it in!! I hope you enjoy and I hope it's what you're looking for!! 💕

Haz and Harry were so drunk as they sat on the couch together, everyone else had retired to bed. The alcohol was buzzing through their systems as they talked, hushing their voices and giggling every now and again.

"No, they have to have fucked though right?" Haz asked as he burst into a fit of giggles.

"Gross man, I don't wanna think about my brother and one of our best friends sleeping with each other." Harry groaned as he ran his hand down his face.

"They are so close though." Haz said and Harry laughed.

"Yeah they are." He agreed. "Wait though, they could just be super close, nothing has to be going on." Harry shrugged.

"Nah," Haz burst into yet another fit of giggles. "They are pining over each other." He added before an idea popped into his head. "Harry, that's it!" He suddenly said, voice a little louder. "We do something, make them realise they are made for each other." He said as he sat upright.

"Like what?" Harry asked, brows furrowed but thoroughly on board.

"We should write them love letters. I'll write Y/N's, you write Tom's!" He said almost excitedly.

"So I write a letter to Tom, pretending to be Y/N? A love letter?" He clarified as Haz jumped up from the couch, quietly disappearing into Tom's office.

"Here." He said handing Harry a piece of paper and a pen. "When you're done, put it in his gym bag, I'll put Y/N's in her bag." He said as he pointed towards your handbag that was by the front door.

"Hang on, why do I get the risky one? Tom's gym bag is in his room." Harry exclaimed.

"Well you're his brother, it'd be fine, besides he sleeps through anything."

"Fine." Harry responded as the two of them got to work.

**

Tom was getting changed after his shower at the gym when he found the letter, addressed to him. He furrowed his brows as he hastily opened it, reading the contents.

Tom,

I want to start off by telling you that I find you really attractive, one of the best looking guys I know. You make me laugh, more than anyone else. You know how to make me feel better when I'm having a bad day.

I love the way you make me tea when I'm sad. Even if you can't make a cup of tea for shit. I love the way you always know what to do to make me feel better, whether that be a hug or just taking me out for the day, it's like you always know what I need and I love that about you.

I love how you always call me and facetime me when you go away to film, how it always seems to be that you're thinking about me. How you always text me emoji's at random times of the day if you have nothing else to say, just so I know you're thinking of me.

I love how much you look after me, even though I'm not yours to look after. You always make me feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet just by looking at me. You make me feel safe when we're out together, always keeping a close eye on me.

I'm too scared to do this in person so I thought I'd write it in a letter. I think I'm in love with you, I don't want to ruin our friendship by saying it to your face. If you don't feel the same way, please, just rip this letter up and never mention it.

All my love,

Y/N.

Tom smiled as he read the letter, stuffing it back into his gym bag as he shook his head with a laugh.

You'd found yours earlier on in the morning, you'd lost something and were rummaging through your bag when you found it, eyes furrowed as you pulled the letter from the envelope addressed to you.

Y/N,

Where do I start? I suppose I should start by telling you how perfect you are. You really really are, everything about you is perfect and I suppose that's the purpose of this letter. I want you to know how incredible you are to me.

I love the way you smile, it's contagious, makes me smile just to see your pretty one grace your lips. I love how you smile even when you're not happy, how you never try and bring the mood down but I want you to know I see through it. I know when you're not okay and it makes me sad.

I hate when you're not okay, I just want to cuddle you, make everything go away for you. I'd take all of the weight off your shoulders, always and carry it myself. Shit, darling, I think I'd do anything for you.

I love how pretty your eyes are, I get lost in them sometimes. Sometimes I just want to kiss you but I can't because we're just friends. I want to be more, I've always wanted to be more.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with you, I want to tell you in person but I always get too afraid because I always think you can do better than me, you deserve the world and I wish I could be the one to make you happy for the rest of your life.

Love you so much darling,

Tom.

You laughed as you read the letter, studying it carefully as you placed it on your bed. Tom came home from the gym and was thankful he didn't see anyone as he made his way upstairs and hastily into your room, shutting the door as he turned to look at you. You had an amused glint in your eyes.

"You were busy last night." You mused as you held the letter up in his direction.

"So were you." He grinned back as he held his own letter up. "Although I appreciate the sentiment, a few things aren't right in here."

"No? Strange that. This letter doesn't quite seem right."

"No?"

"No, darling was a nickname from a while ago." You laughed.

"Yeah, you're usually much more eloquent. Probably drunken rambling this." He mused back. "Do you think we should tell them?"

"What? That their penmanship needs work?" You laughed as you made your way towards him, arms looping round his neck as his found your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

**

Harry and Haz both looked like shit when they came downstairs. Harry eyeing the letter's carefully as he sat down, he looked at his brother who looked nothing but amused.

"Good night last night?" Tom asked as you sat next to him on the couch, Tom wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you in closer.

"You were there." Harry said as he gulped down the water Tuwaine had brought in for the hungover lads.

"No, I recall you staying up later than we did." Tom laughed and Haz groaned.

"Tom, keep your voice down."

"Sorry, I'll try and be quieter. I mean, I just hate when you're not okay, I just want to cuddle you." Tom teased as Haz furrowed his brows.

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"You don't remember last night?" Tom asked and Haz shook his head. "You left Y/N a lovely letter, made her morning. Although, I probably should have mentioned that I have a new nickname for her, I haven't called her darling for a while, she's been upgraded to Princess."

"Yeah and Harry?" You mused as the curly haired boy looked at you. "Tom always signs my name off in this cute little way. I also very much enjoy his brews, you outed yourself there mate." You laughed.

"What are you two going on about?" Harry grumbled.

"Maybe those will jog your memories." Tom laughed as the boys picked them up reading through them.

"Who's idea was this?" Harry said, brows furrowed. "This looks nothing like Y/N's writing, it's obviously mine."

"Well I wouldn't have come up with something so ridiculous." Haz said, tossing the letter back on the coffee table.

"If you want pointers for next time, I'll happily lend you the letter I actually sent Y/N a couple of months ago." Tom shrugged and the boys narrowed their eyes at the two of you.

"Wait a second, are you two?" Harry cut himself off.

"Yeah, I told her months ago I was in love with her. Nice try though boys, I appreciate the sentiment." Tom grinned as he leant down to capture your lips in his. "Besides, when you went to put that letter in my gym bag did you wonder at all why I wasn't in bed?" Tom teased.

"No! I don't even remember doing it."

"Harry, on what planet would you think that was ever going to work?"

"Me? This has your drunken stupidity written all over it." Harry fired back, completely lost in their own argument as you and Tom were lost in each other.

[memxntomxri]

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - bisexual!hinata shouyou x gn!reader, hinata shouyou x miya atsumu

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst, break up

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - hinata shouyou is trustworthy - with everything except for your heart

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.4k words

𝘵𝘸 - slightly descriptive nsfw?, cheating (i'm sorry to be doing my children hinata and atsumu dirty this way but this got stuck in my head 😭), major angst, break-up, no happy ending, lots and lots of crying, lots and lots of reader's internal thoughts, atsumu is an asshole

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of brainrot i had stuck in my head after reading chapter 18 of SabbyWrites' A Study in Depravity. HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS - I REPEAT, HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS. BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE ALSO NOT CHEATERS. i just couldn't resist writing this lmao

also, i'm doing my best to make this a gender-neutral reader, but it might lean more towards AFAB/non-binary readers since i'm both ashelkgjkdlkjf male-identifying readers i'm sorry

thanks @meiansmistress, lou (LouEve_094 on ao3), lena, and emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3) for betaing! your feedback helped me a lot

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - there are some descriptive scenes of smut in here 👀 shoo, shoo

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

You know this.

It's the reason you met, after all.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The summer you moved to Miyagi, following your father's dream of teaching in a little town similar to the one he lived in as a child, you were unhappy. Who could blame you, after all? You had a comfortable life back in Osaka, and unlike your father, you were a city dweller at heart. It was also the middle of your first year of high school—who wanted to transfer schools, let alone across prefectures, in the middle of a school year?

It was hot in Miyagi, and when the moving truck broke down on the side of the road, the entire family piled out and sat on the curb. Just your father (who you were still mad at), your mother, and you. That was what it had always been. Sure, you had friends, but somehow the friendships never got too deep. You were willing to bet that within a month, there would be no texts other than the occasional New Year's greeting or "happy birthday" from your so-called friends back in Osaka.

And don't even get you started on romantic relationships. It wasn't that you weren't attractive, or that you weren't easy to get along with—it was just that there was never anybody. Yes, you had liked people before, but nothing had ever come of it.

Your mother piped up, saving you from your dark thoughts about the state of your relationships with other people. "Y/n, love, can you go back down the hill again? I think we saw a konbini a bit that way, please buy some cool drinks." she says, depositing coins in your outstretched hand. Oh well, something to do, you supposed.

You strolled casually down the road, sweating buckets. When you pushed open the doors of the konbini—Sakanoshita Store, you noted, it definitely didn’t look like a konbini—opened, you basked in the cold air of the air conditioner for a bit. As you stood there, looking a bit dumb with your arms outstretched, you felt a weight barrel into you from behind.

With a bang, you fell forward, the weight landing on your back. "Ow!" you cried, rubbing your right wrist, which had unceremoniously made contact with the ground, pain shooting up the limb. You twisted around to glare at whatever had so unceremoniously bowled you over. You were met with the sight of wide, brown eyes and flushed cheeks. "Sorry!" the boy squeaked, getting off of you quickly. "So sorry!" You frowned and got up.

"Watch where you’re going, okay?" You were a few centimeters taller than him, you noted.

He started blabbering, talking about how he needed to get the first-aid kit because a "Stingyshima" had "accidentally" ran into "Bakageyama" and this "Bakageyama" now had a bleeding knee and that he was the fastest runner in their volleyball club (he was strangely emphatic about this point). By the time he was finished rambling, you were chuckling slightly. It was obvious that he hadn't meant anything by running into you, and it was actually kind of endearing how earnestly he was trying to explain himself.

You held up a hand, stopping him from continuing to ramble. "Y-you aren't mad, right?" he asked anxiously. You smiled and shook your head slightly. "It seems your team trusts you to help take care of your friend, so why don't you grab the first-aid kit and go help him?" You suggested gently.

He nodded quickly and darted behind the counter, grabbing a white box. As he jogged away, he seemed to remember something and turned around to holler at you. "My name's Hinata Shouyou! I'm a first year!" he introduced himself in a bright voice.

Just inside the konbini, a small smile slipped across your face.

Hinata Shouyou, huh. He seemed nice.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason you fell in love with him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The first day of school, you meet Hinata Shouyou again. And again. And again. He somehow seems to pop up everywhere you go—not that you're complaining, he's entertaining and nice—and soon, you think you can count yourself as his friend.

You go to his game against Aoba Johsai, then Shiratorizawa, then you're hugging him as he jumps up and down, celebrating their win. That’s the first time your heart jumps when you look at him, haloed by the lights of the gym.

Slowly, you feel yourself falling in love with him. Not just falling for him, no, because Hinata Shouyou will not let anyone do anything in halves, especially not falling in love. Shouyou, to you, (because by then you were on first-name basis) is someone you can rely on, someone that is always there, like the sun, trustworthy.

And because he is always there, it's also easy to confess to him in your second year. You know him well enough by now to know that even if he doesn't feel the same, nothing would change about your friendship except for the addition of unspoken words. And you think that he might love you back, if the lingering glances and brighter smiles are any indication.

Your guess is right, and by New Year's break, the two of you are a happy couple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you let him go, if only for a little bit.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou left for Brazil, you took a break from each other. To be honest, it was your idea.

It wasn't that you didn't think that you couldn't trust him ten thousand kilometers away—it was that you knew you would hold him back. He was going to Brazil to chase his dream, and having a tether to his hometown would only slow him down. It hurt, having to say goodbye at the airport, but somehow the two of you got through it.

You still talked—a little more than "just friends" should—but you were careful not to let him think that you were together.

Shouyou was meant for greater things, and back then, as an insecure, just-barely-adult going into medical school, you weren't sure if you fit into the picture.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you let him back in.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou returns from Brazil, the first person he visits is you. You, all the way out in Osaka, pushing yourself to your limits as you study for med school. When you open your door and see him standing there, smiling as bright as ever, you fall into his arms—both literally and metaphorically. It turns out, even two years later, you trust him to catch you.

It was all too natural for you and Shouyou to get back together, and by a stroke of luck, he joins the MSBY Black Jackals, right there in Osaka. You move in together, his slightly larger salary allowing the two of you to rent a bigger apartment.

Yes, it's hard work being in a relationship again, but you like having Shouyou to return to every night after your shift is over. You wake up early every morning to make the two of you breakfast and lunch, and Shouyou always has dinner waiting for you when you step back in the door, often also staying up so that you can talk.

You're content.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you think nothing of his closeness with his teammates.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shouyou has always been a people-magnet. Even back in high school, everyone loved him. Shouyou is bisexual. You know this. He’s always had more than enough love to give back, too, and his bisexuality had never impacted your relationship. Why should it, when you’re every bit as queer as him? Your relationship was strong, and you believed in it. That's why, at every team dinner that he takes you to, when someone else inevitably takes the seats next to him instead of you and you're relegated to a corner, you don't worry about it. Shouyou loves you, and it doesn't matter where you sit for a couple of hours.

Yes, Miya Atsumu is a bit aggressive whenever Shouyou compliments him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at you triumphantly, but you chalk it to them being good friends and Miya-san wanting to get to know you better by having a little friendly competition, and that's okay.

Yes, Shouyou starts going out with his team more and more, but they're his team. He's supposed to be close with them.

Yes, you start to feel a little neglected, but it wasn't as if you were the most attentive back when you were still struggling through med school.

And anyways, Shouyou always makes time for the two of you on Saturdays, your designated date nights. You have trust in your relationship, in its rock-tight foundation built upon years of knowing each other.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you believe his words.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

One Friday, after an especially busy shift at the hospital that got cut short for you when a coworker unexpectedly came in to fill in for you, you decide to head home early and get some rest, maybe cuddle with Shouyou while watching those romcoms you both enjoy.

You had told him that you'd be home late that night, and you hoped that you could surprise him with some dinner. So, you swung by his favorite yakitori place and ordered dinner, driving home as fast as you safely could.

As you open the door to your apartment, you hear the distinctive sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, grunts and moans, high keens. You frown. Maybe Shouyou was watching porn? He sometimes liked to get himself ready (the two of you enjoyed the occasional pegging) before you got home. You drop the food on the kitchen table and put your jacket on the hook.

"Love, I'm home!" you call out softly. No response.

Frowning deeper now, you move towards the bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you hear something that stops you cold.

"A-ah, Atsumu!" It's distinctively Shouyou's voice, and suddenly, you can't move anymore.

Shouyou, who told you you could make it through med school.

Shouyou, who made you yakisoba and miso soup whenever you were stuck studying.

Shouyou, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear every morning as the two of you made breakfast.

Shouyou, who is currently in bed with Miya fucking Atsumu.

You want to get up, you want to slam open the door, you want to demand answers, but somehow, you can't get your legs to budge from the spot in the ground they've rooted themselves to.

Then,

"Who do you love, Sho?" Atsumu growls.

Your heart skips a beat.

No.

No.

You pray to all the gods you know that what's about to pass Shouyou's lips will miraculously stay trapped in his throat, but it seems like the gods don't feel kind today.

"Y-you, Atsumu, you!" you hear Shouyou cry.

Your heart shatters into a million little kaleidoscopic pieces. Tears start running down your face, hot, involuntary, painful, because they represent the six years of a beautiful relationship down the drain, because nothing will ever be the same, because Shouyou is cheating on you.

Finally, your legs decide to move again. It seems like someone else is controlling your body as you walk towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

Shouyou is pinned down by Miya-san on the bed, legs thrown over his shoulder, as he slams into him.

The door bangs against the wall.

Shouyou looks up, and when he sees you, his face floods with guilt.

You don't say anything. You just stand there, tears flooding down your face, betrayal evident in your expression.

"Y-y/n!" he says. "I-I- I swear, this isn't-" he begins.

You cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Shouyou." you spit.

Miya-san chuckles. "Who are we kidding, this is exactly what they think it is. What, did you think that you would be enough to satisfy Sho? You, with your infinitely busy schedule? You, who has no clue about volleyball?" he says, cutting into you.

"Atsumu, stop!" Shouyou says, frantic. He can tell that he's going to lose you, but he's not going to go down without a fight. "Babe, I love you, please-" he says, getting out of Miya-san's embrace and moving towards you. You sidestep him, holding a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

You stand there, looking at the scene, chuckling darkly inside your head. Just a scorned lover, a man, and his side-piece. You take a deep breath.

"You know, Shouyou, if you fell in love with someone else, you should've just told me. I trust you to be honest. I'm leaving—because even though you might love me, you're in love with Miya-san." you said.

Shouyou looks stricken with guilt, but you know it's from lying, not because he loves you anymore. Your laugh is broken and rough on the ears. "You think I didn't hear you? Oh, Shouyou, I heard more than enough. Have a nice life, and I hope that you remember how you broke me. I hope it fucking haunts you to the day of your death," you hurl at him.

Because even though at that moment you're screaming at him, you know that you still love him, that you’ll always will love him, and that you will carry this scar for the rest of your life. And even though you love him enough to leave now, to let him be with the person he loves—you still have enough love for yourself to hope that he bears some of the weight of this horrible, messy end too.

And with that, you walk out the door.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

But you're wrong.

Hinata Shouyou might love Miya Atsumu, but he still loves you more.

Years later, looking back, he comprehends that he didn't just break you. As he stares at his empty apartment, devoid of a lover—because what you said was true, he still carries the guilt, the memory of your tear-stained face, the recollections of your golden time together that ruined any relationship he might have had before it started, the echo of your absolute trust in him,

—Hinata Shouyou realizes he ruined himself too.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

© ʙᴇᴛʜᴇʏᴅᴏᴄʀɪᴍᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ 2021 - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 5)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: swearing, violence, mild smut

Part Summary: You and Topper make amends. You two attend the end of the summer bonfire at the Boneyard. When JJ sees you guys together, things take a turn for the worst. 

Masterlist

Somehow, after hours of crying, you finally fell asleep on your bed. You're not quite sure when it happened. Your covers tucked nicely under you, wet from your tears. When you first got home, you immediately snuck up to your room, far from your parents. You ripped off your Labor Day dress, having already hated it, but you also took your aggression out on it. You changed in one of Topper's T-shirts that you stole sometime last summer... when you were hooking up. You had never been so close. Morning, noon, and night you were together. You were practically dating but without the titles. Actually, it was far deeper than that. You spent almost every hour together, you co-existing. You were acting married even though you were only teenagers. You guys just loved each other that much. If someone had told you then that a year from now you two wouldn't be talking, you would've thought they were crazy. 

“Y/N!" You hear Topper in your dreams.  "Y/N!" He repeats, then you process it's real. 

"What the-" You rise from your laid position and spot the boy climbing in from your window in the dark. "Topper?" 

"Hey! Sorry to scare you," he apologizes as he rises to his feet from a crawling position on your floor. 

"Did you climb through the window?" You question, this wouldn't be the first time, but it nevertheless is mind-boggling to you how he can climb up the side of your house. 

"Yeah, can you tell your mom to not have the gardeners cut the vines so short?" He complains with a chuckle, brushing down his Patagonia shirt. 

"What are you doing here?" You yawn. Considering what he said to you just hours before, you can't help but wonder why the fuck he's here. 

"I... I need to apologize," he stammers, taking a seat on the edge of your bed just by your legs. "Y/N, I'm so sorry! I was such a jerk to you earlier. I shouldn't have-" 

Before he can even finish, you leap at him, pulling him into a pleading hug. "Jesus, I'm so happy you're here," you whisper against his shoulder. 

Topper instantly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you. He releases a deep breath, not having realized until this moment that he couldn't breathe the entire time you weren't talking. "I've missed you!" He pulls back and brushes his hand across your cheek, bringing your hair back. "I missed you the moment you left!" He wears a smile of relief as his eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall. 

"Never let me go again," you mutter, almost as a beg. 

"I could never. I didn't," Topper explains in a rushed whisper, gripping your waist. "As soon as you left I was a mess, ask the boys! They had to talk me off a cliff. I came by earlier but your parents said you were still at Kiara's... which I'm guessing you were with JJ and the other Pogues..." His face falters and he avoids your gaze at the mention of JJ. 

You bring your hand up and tuck your fingers under his chin, guiding him to look at you. His eyes meet you with defeat and it nearly breaks your heart. "JJ drove me back to John B's, but I had Sarah drive me home almost as soon as we got there." 

"So you and JJ..." He can't bring himself to ask. 

"We..." Your brows scrunch together as you realize you never really discussed it. "You know what, I didn't even know." Enough about JJ, you're just happy that Topper is here! You felt so empty all day, in a constant state of panic. Now, you can exist again. "I'm just relieved you're here, Top. I've felt sick to my stomach all day," you release a breathless laugh of relief. 

"No, yeah you're right, no one else matters," he shakes his head, reaching for your hand on his cheek and taking it in his hands. "As long as we're good then everything else will be okay." He lifts your hand to his lips and gives them a needy kiss. 

"Stay with me?" You ask softly as he does. 

You see him swallow hard, pausing with your hand his lips. His eyes flicker up to yours with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "I was hoping you'd ask." A faint grin appearing on the edge of his lips. 

You and Topper get ready for bed as you used to every night when he snuck into your room a lot more. You've shared a bed since breaking off your... arrangement. There was the ski trip and Bermuda, but on random nights when he couldn't sleep or missed you, Topper would find himself in your bed. You pull back your blankets, knowing to get on the side closest to the window, away from the door. Topper didn't need to think twice to move to the opposite side because ever in the case of an emergency, he's the closest to the door. He's always thinking of how to keep you safe and satisfied. As you climb in, Topper begins to remove his t-shirt and shorts. You can't help but watch as his clothes become a pile on his side. It's months since you two have done anything, but that doesn't mean you haven't thought about it. There have been opportunities, but you always try to be responsible and remember why you stopped. Topper doesn't notice your staring and wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers down his chest. He climbs in next to you and immediately guides you into his side. Instantly, you feel secure and wanted, which is all anyone ever needs. He brushes his fingertips up and down your spine gently while you rest your cheek against his bare chest. It's not a new feeling to you, but it certainly never gets old. 

"There's a bonfire tomorrow at the Boneyard, wanna go together?" The boy asks, glancing down at you. 

"As long as Rafe doesn't go wild as he did," you snicker, but you mean what you say. 

"Don't worry about him, we had a nice long chat once he sobered up this afternoon," he insinuates and you wish you would've seen Topper go off on him. Then, you comprehend that it might've only happened because Topper was mad at you and Rafe was getting the side effects. 

"He doesn't deserve you, Top." You mutter, lifting your head off his chest to place a quick kiss on his chest. 

"That's how I feel about myself with you," he confesses as he peers down at you. "You've always been there for me. When Sarah cheated, you were right there and pulled me through it. The way I spoke to you this morning. I-" 

"No, no, don't say that," you shake your hand repeatedly as you cup his cheek as you did before. He leans into your touch and you find yourself wishing to be closer to him, as though that's even possible. "I love you, Top. You're my best friend. I'll always be there for you. You've helped me in more ways than you could ever realize." 

"I love you too, Y/N," he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "So much..." he whispers against your skin. 

His eyes flicker down to your neck and you remember last night in the kitchen. You brush your hand across Topper's cheek, pulling his focus back to you. His eyes and features falter at the evidence of JJ on you. 

"I'm here with you! Okay? It's you and me," you try to emphasize. 

He nods slowly, still feeling an ache in his chest, but relieved to have you in his arms. You're it for Topper. He would do anything for you, drop anyone for you, nothing is too much. You alone are what drives him and are the reason he wakes up in the morning. He would never admit it aloud out of guilt, but when he was with Sarah, he always compared her to you. He doesn't fully know why he dated her, maybe because he felt you slipping away when you realized that you no longer wanted to hook up. He couldn't lose you so he tried to replace you, but he quickly realized that was impossible. No one could be you. 

_____________________________________

Topper woke up before you and let you sleep, pondering having you in his arms. Your legs entangled in his, your arm across his chest along with your cheek. In the light, he finally notices you wearing his shirt. A faint smile forms on his lips at the sight. He has you here with him, not with JJ or Rafe or anyone else who's pining after you. You're his. 

You've spent the entire day together on Topper's boat. It couldn't have been more perfect. The hours slipped by without either of you two noticing. Topper has been energized and enthusiastic about everything, all because he has you back. Around ten, you and Topper arrive at the Boneyard for the final bonfire of the summer. You wear distressed white short shorts over a black tank bodysuit with a matching black Chanel belt. All finished with the pearl earrings Topper gave you for Christmas last year.  

Topper keeps you close, his arm around your waist as you walk toward the crowd of teenagers. "I'm so lucky." 

You peer up at the boy with a giggle. "Why?" 

"I have the most beautiful girl in the OBX at my side," he flirts. 

You turn your attention ahead, struggling to hide your blushing. "You sound like Rafe." 

Topper steps around to walk backward in front of you. He locks his fingers through the loops of your shorts and pulls you into his chest. "At least he and I agree on something." He grins, resting his hands on your hips. 

You playfully roll your eyes but find it hard to hide your amusement. "You're such a cheese ball." 

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks," he announces before planting a quick peck to your temple. 

You nod, stepping back toward the shore as Topper holds onto your hands until the last minute. "Okay, I'll find us a spot by the water." 

"Be right there," he winks, offering you a mischievous smirk. 

For a second, you watch Topper jog off to the stack of coolers by the cement wall. Is it possible to be too dependent on someone? You know that if you and Topper stopped talking completely that you wouldn't physically die, but emotionally it would destroy you. You smile, knowing that you two will grow closer because of your fight. It taught you a valuable lesson. It took losing Topper for you to fully comprehend how much you need him. Turning on your heels, you head toward a log facing the shore. It's far enough from the chaos to give you and Topper some privacy, but close enough to still be included in the festivities. You two are both social butterflies, but today has been about you two and you want to keep it that way. You sit down on the log, content watching the small waves crashing against the sand just a few feet away. The light of the moon shimmers on the water, making it looks like lines of crystal. 

"Want a drink, Princess?" A familiar voice asks over your shoulder 

You glance up to see a 

"Wow, you look extra Kooky tonight," he remarks under his breath as he brings his cup to his mouth. 

You glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Let's play a game!" He blurts out. "How many items that Y/N is wearing are designer?"

You roll your eyes, realizing how drunk he is because JJ isn't like this. "How much have you had to drink?" 

"Just the right amount!" He answers swiftly before moving on. "My guess is all of them, but I can't be too sure. You'll have to take off your clothes so I can check what's underneath." 

"You wanna sit for a second? Maybe cool down a bit?" You offer, gesturing to the space beside you. 

His expression shifts from carefree to hurt. "Why do you care?" 

"JJ..." You sigh, peering up at the boy with immense guilt. 

"What?!" He tosses his arms up at his sides, losing some of his drink in the process. "You come here with Prince Charming, acting all coupley!" 

 "It's not like that-" You try to explain calmly. 

"Not according to Sarah!" He counters in a shout. You nervously check over at the crowd, making sure no one heard him burst. "You two planning your next trip to Bermuda?!" 

"What!" You whip your head back around toward JJ. "What did Sarah tell you?!" You fly up to your feet, stepping toward him defensively. 

"Did you sleep with him?!" JJ yells again and you're sure others heard him this time. 

"Excuse me?" You gasp at his audacity. 

"After you left John B's, did you go and find him?!" He elaborates with a breathless laugh. He steps closer to you, getting in your face. He doesn't care if others listen or if he's making you uncomfortable. "After you kissed me and slept in my bed, did you go and sleep with Topper?!" 

Abruptly, you feel a hand pressed to your back and see JJ being shoved backyard. 

"Hey! Back off man!" Topper growls, suddenly at your side. 

JJ catches himself from falling after a second of stumbling. "Oh and here he is now!" He laughs, tossing his cup to the side. "Your knight in shining armor!" 

"I think you should go, man!" Topper warns between his teeth. 

Topper's arm slips around you and grips your waist protectively. You watch JJ as he glares at Topper's arm around you. 

"Don't "man" me, alright! Touch me again and you'll lose a hand!" JJ threatens. 

"JJ!" John B calls for his friend as he runs toward you from down the beach. Kiara, Pope, and Sarah are close behind him. When JJ doesn't react. John B shouts again. JJ! Come on, let's go back over to the fire." 

"No! Not until she answers me!" JJ screams, yanking his arm free. 

Pope, Kiara, and Sarah watch in distress as JJ and Topper go back and forth. None of you are sure what to do. 

"Answer what!" Topper barks, stepping toward JJ defensively. You grab his arm, keeping him back. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! Is your name Y/N?" JJ laughs mockingly. "That Kook Academy doesn't do you guys any favors for your intelligence does it?" 

Pope steps around to block off his friend. "Just cool down, buddy!" 

"I knew you were Kook, Y/N, but I would've never marked you as slut," JJ shouts at you over Pope's shoulder. 

Topper breaks free of your hold, charging at JJ. John B grabs Pope and yanks him out of Topper's way. Now block-less, JJ runs at Topper. His face is red with aggravation. You could've never imagined seeing JJ look so enraged. The person he was with you the other night was entirely different. He was kind, gentle, understanding. You don't recognize him. Topper shoves JJ hard enough to make the boy fall back onto the sand. 

Topper tackles JJ into the ankle-deep water, immediately punching him in the jaw. The two grunt, struggling to get the upper hand. John B attempts to pull Topper off. 

"Topper!" You yell desperately. 

"JJ!" Kiara yells from the sidelines. 

"Enough!" John B barks at the pair as Pope runs to assist. 

The crowd by the bonfire starts to figure out what's going on a few yards away and rush over to watch. Pogues and Kooks each cheer for their fighter. Kelce and Rafe show up, pushing through the crowd to help out their friend. 

"Topper! Get off of him!" You plead as your best friend continues to press JJ's head under the water. 

JJ manages to punch Topper in the cheek, making the boy lose his balance for a second. Despite hating each other, Kelce and Rafe try to help out John B and Pope. 

"Guys! Quit!" Kelce commands, pulling at Topper. 

"Top, you'll kill him!" Sarah screams from beside Kiara. 

You want to go stand with them, but at this moment you're not sure if they want anything to do with you. Sarah and Kiara are Pogues. You're not just Y/N right now, their friend. You're a Kook during this Kook vs. Pogue fight. 

The boys manage to yank Topper off of JJ. The blonde Pogue flies up from beneath the surface, gasping for air. Topper falls back onto the sand in a seated position. Topper continues to fist JJ's collar and as he's shoved off, ripping JJ's shirt down the front. You notice the large purple and blue bruise on JJ's chest and freshly heeling cut down his neck to his collar bone. JJ frantically reaches behind himself, searching for something. Then, things take a turn for the worst when he whips out a gun. The crowd that watched the fight with amusement now scatters in a panic. 

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Topper's eyes grow wide as he starts to scoot back, holding up a hand pleadingly. 

Kelce and Rafe bolt away, John B and Pope rush out words, trying to calm JJ down. 

"JJ!" John B yells at his friend. "What the hell?!" 

"Oh my god!" Sarah's hands fly up to her mouth. 

"That's right! Bet you didn't think I had that did ya?" JJ grins wickedly at Topper. 

"Topper!" Kelce attempts to collect his friend but halts when JJ points the gun at him. 

"Everyone back off!" JJ orders, rising to his feet, returning the gun's point toward Topper. 

Without a second thought, you sprint across the sand. You slide in front of Topper, the waves splashing against you. 

"Y/N! No!" Topper screams as soon as you land in JJ's path. 

"Y/N!" Sarah and Kiara shout your name in unison. 

JJ hesitates when his eyes land on you. You see him lower the gun a little and Kelce takes the opportunity to pull Topper from the scene. 

"JJ please..." you beg of him. 

Your heart is racing, but you're certain JJ won't hurt you. Despite his evident pain and anger toward you, he won't do it. You remember the boy from the other night, the one who spoke to you with such admiration. That boy wouldn't harm you. You know he's in there beneath this tough facade. 

"Y/N! Come on!" Rafe wraps his fingers around your arm and drags you away. 

While he's distracted by you, John B swiftly steals the gun from JJ's hand and begins ushers him away to their circle of friends. The Pogues swarm JJ, all talking over each other. 

 Rafe frantically cups your face, checking on you. "Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." You mutter, glancing over your shoulder, watching John B talk to JJ down the beach. 

"No cuts? Scrapes?" Rafe panics. 

"No..." You shake your head absent-mindedly as you’re too distracted by observing JJ. 

"Are you okay?" Kiara checks on JJ worriedly as you watch from a distant. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine!" JJ rushes out, still agitated. "Fuck this man!" He swears, then his eyes land on yours with surprise. He hand’t expected you to be listening or even care. 

You two stare each other from across the beach. Guilt consumes his features and sympathy breaks you apart as your vision lands on the wounds covering JJ’s torso. Rafe brings you over to Kelce who has Topper catching his breath against a tree. 

"Dude's fucking nuts, man!" Kelce curses, all fidgety beside you. 

As soon Topper sees you coming, he pushes himself off the tree and rushes to you. His arms engulf you as he presses you to his chest. 

He squats down to be at your level, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so stupid, Y/N! You just jumped in front of a gun! Why would you do that?!” 

“Because it was pointed at you!” You justify desperately. 

Topper's eyes soften. “You’d risk your life for me?! Are you crazy?!” A soft, breathless, laugh escapes him. 

“Of course I would you idiot!” You remark with frustration. How could he possibly think you wouldn't? You'd do anything for the boy. 

“God, I love you so much," he mutters, placing a hand on either side of your head and planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” You check his body in a panic. 

“Yes, yes I’m okay!” He assures you. “Let’s get out of here before things get crazy again." 

Your eyes grow wide. “Agreed!” 

He looks over at you and Topper doting on each other. It makes him even more pissed off. "Great! Go baby him! Tend to your Kook Prince, you Princess!" He yells across the beach. 

John B covers his friend's mouth. "Shut up, JJ!" 

"Jesus JJ!" Pope huffs under his breath. 

You and Topper snap your heads in JJ's direction. As a result, Topper pulls you into his side securely. 

“We'll text you guys later!” Kelce calls out to you both as he and Rafe start backing toward their cars. 

“Stay close to me,” Topper slips his into yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m never letting that psycho Pogue anywhere near you again!” 

When you arrive at Topper's car, he opens your door for you. He keeps a sharp eye on the Pogues that remain on the beach. When John B or any of them glance our way, he glares daggers in their direction. Once you climb in, Topper reaches in and begins to buckle your seat belt as though you were a toddler in a car seat. 

“Topper I think I can put on my own seat belt,” you 

“I know, Sweetheart. I’m just..." he stops his action, kneeling beside you. "I guess I’m still a little scared. I was so afraid when that gun was pointed at you, I... I couldn’t breathe. I can never lose you, Y/N,” he rushes out, becoming emotional. 

Your emotions become bottled up as a lump in your throat. You rub your fingers through Topper's hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. His hands glide around your waist to your back, hugging you needly. His head rests against your chest as you cradle it. 

Abruptly, he breaks from you as a thought pops into his mind. “Promises me that if there’s any dangerous situation like that again, you run!" He instructs sternly. "You don’t do anything reckless for my sake!” 

You shake your head frantically, already rejecting his words. “You would’ve done the same thing for me! You basically did!” You justify. 

“I’m seriously Y/N!" Topper stands his ground. Eagerly, he takes removes your hands from his hair and squeezes them in his own. "I could never live with myself if something happened to you! Never again!” 

You want to argue with him on it, claim that if he's going to be protective of you that he must understand that you'll be the same. Yet, nothing escapes you. Instead, you simply nod, not wanting to fight at this moment. 

He nods, satisfied by your compliance. “I love you, you know that right?” 

You nod. “I love you too, Topper." 

_________________________________________

JJ fell into a dark abyss of self-deprecation and destruction after the bonfire. The Pogues all drove back to John B's, but as soon as they got there JJ disappeared as he did the day before. All they can do is wonder where he goes. If they knew that he was at the bar searching for his dad half drunk, they would be stopping a second fight for the day. 

JJ can't help but feel responsible for it all. One minute he has you. You're right there. The next, you're gone, in the arms of Topper of all people. He wants to know if anything from the other night was real for you. Was he just a game to you? You're the Princess of the OBX, you can have anything you want, including JJ if you asked. Is that what happened? You wanted him for a night and then got bored and went back to your fellow Kook. He wishes he hadn't let you down. He wishes you were here. He wishes that he could hold you again and feel you in his arms. Waking up next to you was the best moment in his life and he fears he'll never feel that sort of peace again. 

______________________________________________________

You Topper spend the night at his house, too afraid to be apart. Late into the night, Topper struggles to fall asleep as he holds you. Your back is pressed to his chest as his hands rest against you underneath his shirt you're wearing. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he envisions what could've happened tonight. You could've been shot. Topper could never live with himself if anything happened to you. Moving slowly to not wake you, he rolls onto his back and reaches toward the nightstand for his phone. He begins to scroll through social media and text messages, responding in the group chat between you, Kelce, Rafe, and himself. You've all agreed to go to lunch tomorrow at the Club with some other Kooks from the bonfire. 

You stir next to Topper, making the boy pause for a second. When you roll over still asleep and curl into him, a wave of relief rushes over Topper. 

“Go back to sleep,” you yawn. 

Topper jumps at the sudden sound of your voice. “Shit... sorry Beautiful, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I’ve been awake. I could feel you overthinking," you whisper, scooting closer into his side. 

“You could feel me thinking?” He repeats with a hint of confusion.

You hum, as it makes perfect sense to you. You hear the sound of Topper pushing his phone back onto the side table. He rests his now free hand over your arm that lays across him. After a couple of minutes, you can still feel the tension radiating from him. 

“I’m okay, Topper,” you tell him to ease his nerves. 

“I know, I can’t just help but review the course of events in my head. What if he didn’t hesitate? What if his hand slipped? What if-“ 

“Enough!” You fly up to prop yourself up on your elbow. You stare down at the worried boy with sympathy. "You’re okay! I’m okay! What’s done is done and all we can do is be safe from now on. We’re safe!” You reach up and comb your fingers through the side of his hair. “Okay? It’s just you and me here.” 

Impulsively, Topper extends his neck and slams his lips to yours. You sit stunned as the kiss rides out its course. You and Topper go months without anything intimate and within two days, he's kissed you twice, breaking every ruled you two have made. When you don't react, Topper breaks from you with a startled expression, as if he wasn't comprehending his actions. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry! I-“ 

Before Topper can finish his sentence, you press your lips to his hungrily. You're not sure why, but you need him. Topper is your kryptonite, the bittersweet reality in your life. Forgetting his regret, Topper immediately sits up, resting against his headboard. You take the opportunity to straddle his torso and he keeps you steady with his hands on your hips. It's been ages since you've made out, but it's like riding a bike for you two. You know what each other likes and what gets the other going. 

"I've missed you so much," Topper whispers against your jawline as he moves down to leave marks on your neck. He aggressively attacks your sensitive skin where evidence of JJ remains. Deep down in the back of your mind, you know Topper is parking his territory for JJ to see later. Your skin has become a battleground for the two. "I've missed this." 

"Me too," you pant, silently wondering if you truly mean it in the same sense as him. 

Though you chose to kiss Topper back and want to, you can’t understand why JJ’s face enters your mind the moment you do. As you deepen the kiss with Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel, it's familiar and reminds you of a time when you were carefree. Yet, your thoughts remain fixated on JJ. You want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ. 

__________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things @hockeybabe87 @jolomez

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

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