#changed a couple things so im gonna try and make another sweater soon i think

[loverboybitch]

knit sweater i made drying out after i dyed it in my kitchen sink.//.

[likearmor]

do i wanna know? - draco malfoy

summary: typical enemies to lovers with draco malfoy and gryffindor! reader.

words: 2.8k

warning(s): SMUT, cursing,

(draco and reader aged up to 18)

if there's one thing that you knew for sure, it was that you absolutely despised draco malfoy.

and it wasn’t the normal slytherin and gryffindor rivalry, no, it was worse than that. even your friends said that you hated draco even more than harry potter did, and that was saying something. 

“he’s just an egotistical prick. he doesn’t care about anyone from himself, I swear, if he wasn’t all up snape’s ass I would punch him into oblivion,” you said to your group of friends, walking up the moving stairs back to the gryffindor common room for your free period before lunch. 

on your way there, hermione met up with you, ron, and harry and overheard your conversation. “what did he do this time?” she asked, sighing to herself that the conversation had turned to draco yet again. 

“breathed in her direction,” ron joked, earning a hit to the shoulder from you. “hey! sorry, sorry.” harry laughed from beside you, making you hit him in the shoulder too. 

“you guys are so mean, no, he did not just breath in my direction. he messed up my whole potion, put something in it while I had my back turned. snape made me restart it,” you explained. your three friends nodded, not deciding to argue with you because there was no point in trying to change your mind. its not like they liked him either, though sometimes they thought he didn’t deserve all of your wrath. 

~

you were sitting down on one of the fuzzy comfy chairs in the common room going over some of your history of magic notes with hermione when the two boys came down from the boys’ dorms. ron dropped a chocolate frog on your lap. “thanks,” you muttered, popping it into your mouth and humming at the good taste. you and ron lived for the sweets at honeydukes and you always shared stuff with each other. 

“you guys want to go to some slytherin party?” harry asked, sitting down on the floor underneath you.

hermione winced. “why would we go to a slytherin party?” it’s not like your group was one for going to parties in the first place. “plus, wouldn’t they get busted by snape or someone in the slytherin common room? how would we even get in there?” 

“calm down,” harry said to hermione. “you worry too much sometimes ‘moine. it’s in the room of requirement so only the people who know about it can go. teachers wont find it at all even if they wanted to, top secret.” 

you shut your textbook and set it down on the floor. “sure, why not?” you said, looking at the clock. “what time is it at?” 

your friends looked at you with concern. ron even stopped eating his every flavored beans to give you a concerned look. hermione’s eyes were open wide and harry turned around to look at you. “what?” you asked. 

“you really just volunteered to go to a slytherin party?” ron said. 

“so what?” 

“you, y/n, someone who hates slytherins more than anyone else I've ever known, wants to go to a slytherin party?” ron asked again. “no, doesn’t make sense. you have to be a clone or something.” 

you rolled your eyes. “shut up, I only hate one slytherin. and there will be loads of people there, I probably wont even see him there. c’mon, lets go have fun. it might be more fun than you guys think.”

everyone agreed, even hermione who you thought was just going to stay in and get some of her homework done. soon enough, you were up in the girls’ dorms to get ready for the party. you put on a white sweater and some black jeans, hair coming up in a half down half up style. you looked hot. 

you made sure that hermione also looked hot, you even convinced her to wear a shorter black top. now all you had to do was meet the boys and make your way down to the room of requirement. it was friday and you wanted to party. maybe it would be fun and maybe it would help you let loose after this stressful couple of weeks. 

you walked down with your group to the enterance of the room of requirement, seeing the door appear the second that you got there. making sure that the coast was clear, you all scurried into the busy room. there was shouting and conversations over some loud music in the big room. you could see loads of different people from every type of house. 

“im gonna go look for a drink,” ron said, pushing past you and getting lost in the sea of people. you walked with hermione to the farthest edge of the party. from there you guys leaned against one of the stone walls. in your line of vision, you could see people like seamus finnegan and dean thomas dancing with lavender brown, pulling in harry to dance along with them. 

hermione struck up a conversation with some hufflepuff boy beside you. “hey, im gonna go get something to drink too,” you said to her. you pushed off the wall and made your way towards the drink stand. 

from behind you, you heard someone say, “I didn’t think that I'd see you here.”

draco malfoy. just the person you didn't want to see. 

“what do you want, malfoy,” you said, not even turning around to look at him. you kept making your way for the drinks, hoping that you would loose him in the crowd or he would get too bored to mess with you. “don’t you have some hole to crawl back into?”

he laughed. “no, just wanted to see what the hell you’re doing here, y/n. this is my party, I thought I knew all the guests coming and I just saw you come in with potter and his lot.” you reached the table with the drinks and poured some firewhiskey into a disposable cup. 

draco finally reached you and stood across the table. he was wearing a typical black dress shirt and pants, his slytherin tie loosely fitted around his neck. in the back of your mind you thought about how good he looked, but the second that you thought it you wanted to punch yourself in the face for ever thinking something like that. especially about draco malfoy. 

“you don’t know everything about me,” you said to him, a tone of aggression lacing your words. “you know, im not that predictable.” 

“I beg to differ. you hang out with potter and his lot, you’re a high and mighty gryffindor, and you hate slytherins.” 

you laughed, downright laughed at his accusations, downing your drink and pouring yourself another. you could feel the alcohol burn in your throat and settle in your stomach. it wouldn’t take long before you started to feel the affects of it as well. “I don’t hate slytherins, I just hate you, malfoy,” you yelled over the shouting of peoples conversations. “see? you’re wrong.” 

“well then, what do you think of me?” draco asked. 

you walked up to him, setting down your drink and getting all up close and personal. you could feel his breath fanning onto your face as you leaned closer to meet his line of vision. “I think that . . .” you started, jabbing your finger into his chest, “that you’re an egotistical, obnoxious, slytherin prick. who pokes fun at people to get a rouse out of them just for your entertainment.” 

draco’s grey eyes stared into yours with an intensity you have never seen before. it made your knees feel weak as you stood up to him. “wow,” he said. “you really know how to party with all this psychology don’t you?” 

“oh, I know how to party,” you argued. 

draco cocked an eyebrow up. “really? show me then, come dance.” 

“why would I ever dance with you?” you asked. 

draco didn’t respond, only taking a shot of his drink and stretching a hand open for you to take it. a few moments passed by as you weighed your options. you could laugh in his face and leave, spill your drink on him and then leave . . . or you could take his offer. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol about to take affect or if you were just feeling risky (probably both in the scheme of things), but you downed the rest of your tall drink and took his hand. 

he led you to the dance floor where most of the drunken kids were swaying to the beat of the loud music. the second you got a rhythm set up, you turned your back to him and swished your hips around. you couldn’t see his face, but he seemed to enjoy it because of his hands that rested on either side of you two seconds later. 

it felt good to finally let loose for a while, and if felt even better not trying to keep yourself together. it was easier tolerating draco than actually hating him. not to mention, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, he was looking even more hotter than he was a couple minutes ago. 

“what are you staring at?” he asked you, pulling you closer. 

you hummed. “nothing.”

draco opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by saying, “christ, you talk to much.” 

you pulled his face towards you and kissed him, long and hard. he tasted like firewhiskey and a hint of peppermint and his cologne tempted you in for more. the second you pulled away to take some air, he was pushing in for more. you happily obliged, turning the kiss into an open mouth one. it wasn’t just a normal kiss either, you wanted draco. hell, you felt like you needed draco. and it felt even more extreme because to everyone else, you hated him. but that wasn’t what you really felt for him. you didn’t know what your feelings were for draco. 

it took a little bit of convincing on his friends’ part to allow for draco to leave, but after finally getting him to pull away from the party, both of you spared no time to get out of the room of requirement. you guys practically ran to the dungeons to the slytherin common room, your hands reaching up to undo his tie and buttons while he put in the password. 

no one was in there because virtually every slytherin was at the party, so no one heard your giggles as he picked you up and led to you his dorm. you giggled all the way there, feeling your back hit his bed. 

“who would’ve known I would have y/n l/n in my bed,” draco muttered, helping you take off his shirt and throwing it to the opposite side of the room. 

you laughed, pulling up your shirt over your head and making it join his on the floor. “don’t take this the wrong way malfoy, but I still hate you.”

“we’ll see about that.” 

once both of you were properly in your undergarments, draco laid on top of you, his lips reattaching to yours in a searing kiss. his hands rubbed your sides up and down, gripping your skin. you could feel his cold rings on your skin and it made you crave him, feeling the heat between your thighs get even more intense. 

your hands reached down to push his boxers down, but draco’s met yours and swatted them away, putting them back on his back. at first you were going to pull him away to ask why, though you didn’t have the chance when one of his hands delved into the front of your panties. 

the second that his fingers hit your clit you were moaning into his mouth, pressing your hips up to meet his hand. you could hear him snicker a little bit, just a second ago you were saying you hated him and here he was making you keel into his touch. a second later he was kissing along your jawline, making his way down to your neck and sucking. “I can’t have hickeys, malfoy,” you said through shortened breaths. 

“too bad, princess,” draco said against your neck, pushing a finger into you and making a ‘come here’ motion with it. your back arched and you breathed in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut as he pushed in and out, eventually adding a second finger too. his wet kisses trailed all around your neck, stopping in a few places to give you some marks. 

the way that he was making you feel . . . it was surreal. it was making you feel like you were alive. even if it was just going to be for this moment, all you wanted to think about was draco malfoy. 

“fuck, draco,” you moaned, feeling his fingers hit just the right spot to make your toes clench. his thumb came up and pressed against your clit, which almost sent you over the edge. it was almost embarrassing at how easily he could make you come undone, but you were enjoying it too much to care. 

as soon as you were about to cum, his fingers pulled out of you, and he looked up at you to give you a devilish smirk. “not yet,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek and pulling his boxers down onto the floor. you took the time to look him over, seeing how hot he looked in the moment. his blonde hair was disheveled and his cheeks were a little red from the lack of air, and the second you looked down your eyes widened. he was big. probably the biggest you had ever had. 

“are you sure about this?” draco asked, stopping for a moment at what you two were about to do. you bit your lip, taking a few moments to take it all in. “because if you don’t, you don’t have to. . .”

you nodded, stopping what he was saying. “yes, I do.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. the second that he pushed into you, your eyes widened and an elongated moan came out from between your lips. draco also made a noise, which sounded so hot that you were sure would be etched into your brain for the days to come. 

he went at a steady pace, thrusting into you rhythmically with an intensity you had never felt before. of course he was good at this. “right there,” you said, back arching as his hands stayed pressed against your hips to keep you in place. 

you were already really close from his fingers, so it didn’t take you too long to get back into things. 

“you’re taking me so well,” draco said, going at a little bit of a faster pace. he rutted his hips against you that you knew that there would be marks there in the morning. he came down and kissed you again, his tongue pressing into yours and exploring your mouth. 

you gasped. “im not going to last much longer.” 

“then cum,” draco said, motioning his hips around in a circular motion. his hand also came down to play with your clit, which sent you right over the edge. your head came back as you moaned, riding out the rest of your orgasm. not even two thrusts later he was also coming undone, pulling out and doing it on your stomach. 

both of you stayed there with each other gasping for breath, your skin sticking to his from the sweat. draco finally got up and went to the bathroom that was connected to the room, coming back with a washcloth in his hand and pulling his boxers back up. he cleaned your stomach, throwing the cloth into a hamper with his clothes in it and laying down next to you again. 

you couldn’t believe that you had just fucked your sworn enemy. 

and you couldn’t believe that it was the best sex you had ever had in your entire life. 

fuck. 

“I should go,” you said to him, standing up and searching for your clothes on the floor. you put them on quickly, watching him sit up on his elbows and look at you. “if anyone sees me in here they’ll have a cow.” 

“is that the only reason? or because you hate me?” he put air quotes around ‘hate me’.

“fuck off malfoy,” you said, brushing out your hair with your fingers and going towards the door. 

you heard draco laugh. “I'll see you again, yeah?” 

you stopped in your tracks at his words, still facing the door. you could feel your knees quiver at the opportunity of doing this again with him. it was tempting, thats for sure. but you had to get your priorities straight before then. or find someone else, because it was draco malfoy. not just some random guy. 

“if you’re lucky, draco,” you said, opening the door and shutting it, leaving him in his dorm and going to make some excuse to your friends as to where you had been. 

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part One

Nessian Modern AU

Summary: Nesta Archeron isn't good with change. When her car breaks down in the middle of a storm and her sister sends one of her friends to pick her up, Nesta thinks there could be nothing worse than having to spend the night with a total stranger. Until she suddenly finds herself without an apartment. Despite only a night of knowing Nesta, Cassian is quick to offer her a room in his cabin free of charge, and Nesta, broke and without many social contacts, has no choice but to accept.

A/N: This fic is loosely inspired by @lady-therion 's fic Close Quarters. I couldn't stop thinking about Nesta and Cassian sitting in front of a fire, slowly getting to know each other, so this fic is a whole lot of that :) There's no strict plot structure to this so I'm not sure how long it's gonna be, but expect warm and fuzzy content in the beginning. Enjoy!

Masterlist

***

Cassian is in bed when he gets the text.

Feyre: hey i know it's late but i need you to do a huuuge favor for me

Feyre: i really hope you're not asleep yet

Cassian furrows his brows in concern, immediately thumbing back a text.

Cass: what's wrong?

Feyre takes a long minute to type back; wind howls and rain thrashes against his window while he waits. A long message finally appears.

Feyre: you know the shortcut through the woods off of main st? my sister's car broke down there and there's no 24/7 towing around. im all the way in velaris and won't be able to get there for another two hours, but i dont want her waiting in the woods in the middle of the night like murder bait. she's too proud to ask for help, but if you could go and pick her up that would mean a lot to me, please.

At the last sentence, Cassian immediately knows which sister Feyre is talking about. He glances out his window and curses under his breath. It's storming hell outside, and Nesta Archeron is sitting in a broken car in the middle of the woods somewhere.

He's already grabbed his keys and stuffed his feet into shoes when he realizes he never answered Feyre's text. He types out a short on my way and heads out the front door of the cabin, assaulted by rain and wind before he's even fully outside.

Cassian follows the location Feyre sends him, what should be a five minute drive taking almost fifteen in the storm.

Cassian has interacted with the oldest Archeron sister maybe twice in his three years of knowing Feyre. Once for an initial family meeting, where she gave a terse hello upon introduction to Cassian and his friends, before ignoring everybody for the rest of the dinner, and another time when he accidentally bumped into her as she was leaving Feyre's apartment. He remembers apologizing profusely, only to be given a weird look before she turned and left.

In summary, Cassian knows enough about Nesta to know that this won't be the most fun task he's ever been given. Still, he isn’t about to leave any woman rotting on the side of an empty road at this hour, in this weather.

There’s so much rain that he almost misses the car. His headlights catch on a lump of metal, and he slowly brings the truck to a stop. Throwing the gear in park, Cassian flips his hood over his head and runs out into the rain.

She’s already waiting for him when he reaches the car, standing in the freezing rain in nothing but a drenched sweater and jeans.

His first real words to Nesta Archeron come out surprisingly easy: “What the hell are you doing here?” he yells over the torrent.

“Making sure you could see me,” she shouts back. “You drive like a blind dog!”

Whatever Cassian says back gets lost in the rain, but soon he's ushering Nesta over to his truck and slamming the passenger door shut behind her. He returns to the driver's seat, Nesta audibly shuddering beside him.

He flips the air vents blowing hot air towards her. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”

Even soaked and freezing, Nesta summons up the energy to glare. “So you could run me over with your truck? No, thanks.”

“That’s an overreaction.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to reply. Silence fills the truck for a couple of minutes as Cassian tries to maneuver them out of the small backroad, carefully turning back for his cabin. There’s no way he can get Nesta back to her place tonight, and he suspects his phone notifications are already full of flash flood warnings.

Finally, he says, “I’m Cassian, by the way.”

Nesta looks at him like he’s stupid. “I know who you are.”

That takes him a little by surprise, but he only murmurs, “Okay, then.” He wonders how much Feyre told her sister about how this was going to go.

“We’re getting my car picked up first thing tomorrow,” Nesta says into the silence, “and Feyre will take me home so you don’t have to bother yourself.”

“It’s not a bother,” he responds a little too quickly. She only gives him another weird look, like she’s judging him to hell and back, and Cassian decides to quit speaking forever.

By the grace of some higher power, the drive back is faster than the drive to. The pounding of rain only gets heavier as Cassian pulls up to the house, until it becomes an unmistakable thunk. Nesta’s eyes shoot to the roof of the car. “What’s that,” she says sharply. Everything she says is sharp; he wonders if she does it consciously or not.

Another thunk hits the car, this time the windshield. Cassian sighs deeply at the ice assaulting the truck from all sides. “Hail,” he says, resigned with this whole night.

He and Nesta end up making another mad dash to the door, trying not to get hit by increasingly larger chunks of ice as they go. Nesta has a backpack that she holds close to her chest instead of using for protection from the hail, as if it’s a baby.

Once safely inside the cabin, she doesn’t let go of her grip on her bag as she looks around his home. “Nice place,” she breathes, eyeing the exposed wooden beams and towering glass windows. An iron-wrought chandelier lights up the main living area they’re in, lightning occasionally casting twisted shadows across the walls.

Cassian almost apologizes for it, before deciding that apologizing for having too nice of a house is one of those things that would earn him another weird look from Nesta. “Bathrooms are that way,” he says instead, pointing down the main hall. “I can get you some dry clothes…”

She’s already nodding sharply and heading for the bathroom, leaving Cassian to stand awkwardly in the entryway, soaked to the bone in the same sweats he was about to go to sleep in just an hour ago.

Upstairs, after changing into blissfully dry clothes, it takes Cassian a good five minutes to decide which of his shirts will work best for Nesta’s slim figure.

When he finally returns downstairs with sweats four times Nesta’s size, she snatches them out of his hands without a word and slams the bathroom door shut on his face. He stands there a moment longer, nods resolutely, and heads for the kitchen to whip up a hot beverage. Cassian has a feeling he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

A couple of minutes later, Nesta appears in the kitchen doorway, looking hesitant and absolutely dwarfed in Cassian’s gray sweats. Somehow, she’s made the pants work, likely by rolling them up a hundred times.

Cassian’s eyes widen for a moment, realizing this is the longest look he’s gotten at Nesta since… well, since he first met her.

He remembers thinking she was stunning at that initial dinner at Feyre’s house all those years ago, but damn, he must have forgotten just how much. Because even messy and rumpled, Cassian can’t stop staring at her.

Nesta breaks the silence first. “Is that hot chocolate?” The hard edge has mostly left her voice, like the warm clothes have soothed her frayed nerves from the car ride.

“Um.” Cassian glances down at the steaming mug in his hands. “Yeah. You want some?” he offers before he can check himself.

Nesta further surprises him by nodding, tucking her sweater paws under her armpits. The position would look vulnerable and reserved on most people, but on her it’s just another fortification to her stiff demeanor. Cassian slides his mug over the marble island to her before starting on another drink for himself.

Feeling an urge to fill the silence while he works, Cassian babbles, “The guest rooms are upstairs. You can have your choice, but the master bedroom is mine, obviously.” He pours melted chocolate into a mug and grabs for cinnamon.

Nesta watches him move with her unnerving hawk eyes and nods slowly, taking careful sips from her mug. “I think I’m going to stay up and study for my midterms,” she finally responds. “You mind if I use your fancy living room?”

Cassian almost smiles at that. “The whole house is fancy,” he says. “But yeah, go for it.”

He’s surprised at how nice this feels. Not that having Feyre’s scary older sister over isn’t weird for him, but… having another presence in the cabin, especially at this late hour— it’s warm where Cassian’s nights are usually cold.

***

It’s past two in the morning when Nesta finally glances up from her laptop screen, eyes bleary and unable to take in another word of theoretical law. She’s rubbing her hands down her face when a sudden clap of thunder booms outside the cabin windows, making her nearly fall off the couch. “Christ,” she swears, unconsciously curling into herself.

“Scared of thunder?”

Nesta internalizes her surprise at the unexpected voice and glances up to see Cassian coming down the stairs, looking as awake as he did when he went to bed over an hour ago. Nesta becomes terribly aware of the state she’s in and has to fight to maintain her composure.

She peeled off Cassian’s oversized sweatpants as soon as he went upstairs, not having been able to take a step without almost tripping, and made up for the coldness of her bare legs by dragging the fur throw off the back of his leather couch and using it as a blanket.

“That's usually for decoration, you know.” Cassian gestures at the thick fur.

Embarrassment claws up her throat, for coming into this strange man’s house and taking his nice things and using them incorrectly. Her first instinct is to apologize, but the only thing she hates more than embarrassment is the word sorry. “I thought you were asleep,” she says instead.

Cassian only shakes his head as he takes a seat on the far end of the couch. “Sleep and I aren't friends tonight. I was thinking about watching a movie, but if you're still studying—”

Nesta quickly shuts her laptop, shaking her head. “I was just about to go upstairs,” she says, packing her things into her backpack. Despite the day she’s had and how heavy her eyelids are, she knows she won’t be able to sleep with the sporadic thunder still booming. She wants to ask Cassian if he has noise-canceling earplugs, but the last thing she wants is to inconvenience him further.

The fur throw slips off her as she stands, revealing her bare legs. She might be wearing the largest, least sexy sweater of all time, so she doesn’t know why she suddenly feels naked in front of Cassian. Risking a glance at the man himself, he only takes his eyes off the TV remote in his hand to say, “You can leave the pants behind if you don’t need them.”

Right. She neatly folded his sweats as soon as she took them off earlier, and now they sit patiently on the coffee table.

“It gets a little drafty at night,” Cassian adds, “but I stocked your room with blankets. It’s the second door on the left; I hope you don’t mind that I chose for you.”

Nesta distantly remembers him saying she could have her pick of bedroom. “I don’t care,” she says honestly. “But— thanks.” She clasps her bag to her chest and shuffles towards the stairs, only stopping at the foot of them when she remembers not to be rude. “Goodnight,” she calls out awkwardly, trying not to race up the stairs as she hears him say goodnight back.

Cassian’s cabin is without a doubt gorgeous, but Nesta still feels a little shock of surprise when she finds her designated room. Decked out with a four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling windows, it’s nicer than any place Nesta’s ever stayed in before.

A bright flash of lightning fills the room, and Nesta’s shoulders immediately bunch up to her ears— the preparation doesn’t make the ensuing clap of thunder any less heart-thumping. Withholding a weary sigh, she moves to draw the thick curtains over the windows, hoping to add a barrier between herself and the storm. It’s going to be a long night.

***

The next morning, Nesta dials Feyre’s number for the third time, growing more irritated by the second. It’s eight a.m., but Feyre is supposed to be picking Nesta up before noon so she can take her car in and return home to her shitty basement apartment.

Finally, the line clicks. “Hello?” a groggy voice drawls over the phone.

“When are you coming?” Nesta demands.

“Uh, what?” Feyre still sounds like she’s waking up. Nesta could hiss.

“You promised you’d be here first thing today, Feyre. I can’t hang around at your friend’s place all day. I want to wear my own clothes and use my own toothbrush.”

“Oh, that,” Feyre says. “Listen, can you just have Cassian take you home?”

“Feyre—”

“I know you hate interacting with strangers, but he’s one of my best friends. It’s a two-hour drive up to the mountains, Nesta,” she speaks as if she’s trying to reason with a kindergartener.

Frustration boils up in Nesta, feelings that she’s in too much disbelief to put words to right now. Her jaw works, and all she ends up spitting is, “You promised.”

“You’re being dramatic. I’m going back to sleep now, call me when you get home safe.” Over the line, Nesta can hear mumbling— probably Feyre’s boyfriend waking up.

Nesta has to hang up before she says something she’ll be made to regret. Her fingers are bone-white around her phone, and she releases a restrained shriek before flinging her phone at the bed.

Still pissed but just a little mollified after the release of energy, Nesta takes a deep breath and heads downstairs to get breakfast.

Cassian is in the kitchen when she enters, sipping from a cup of coffee and watching another one brew in the coffee maker. His eyes are ringed with tired circles, proving he got about as much sleep as Nesta did the night before, but he seems content. She doesn’t miss his quick glance at her still-bare legs before his eyes flick up to her. “Good morning,” he offers with a quiet smile.

Nesta didn’t know Cassian was capable of such quietness— it’s a stark difference from how he is with Feyre and his friends, and maybe the nicest surprise she’s received since this shitty weekend began.

She cuts straight to it. “Feyre’s not coming,” she says, trying to gauge how he’ll react to this new inconvenience. “She told me to let you take me home.”

“I know,” is all Cassian says. His brow furrows when he sees her obvious disappointment. “She called me last night. Didn’t she tell you?”

Nesta’s hands curl under the long sleeves of Cassian’s sweatshirt, but she only shakes her head once. She’s distantly aware that she’s overreacting about a simple car ride, but nothing can take away her discomfort at asking favors from people she barely knows.

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, she says stiffly, “I want to wear my own clothes again.” Is that a good addition to the discussion? She genuinely can’t remember the last time she interacted with a man for non-work related purposes.

Cassian’s eyes light up and he sets down his coffee. “That reminds me, I put your clothes through the laundry this morning. They might still be warm from the dryer.”

Nesta wants to sag in relief at the first good news she’s gotten all morning. She follows Cassian’s directions to the laundry room and almost hugs her neatly folded clothes. While she changes into her clothes from the night before, she makes a list of today’s activities in her head:

1) Eat breakfast. Keep it quick and keep interactions with Cassian to a minimum, but don’t seem ungrateful.

2) Drive to her ancient rustbucket of a car. Make sure it’s okay after the hail and call the towing company.

3) Let Cassian drop her home.

4) Return to her room and not leave for a week.

Nesta sighs as her blue sweater settles around her frame. Only four tasks; it’s achievable enough.

Her first task is relatively easy. She wishes Cassian wouldn’t talk so much, because sometimes she doesn’t know what to say in return, but she also finds that she likes what she has to say. His opinion on the horror movie he watched last night doesn’t make her want to crawl out of the nearest window.

Cassian keeps breakfast short and gets them in the car by nine. It’s only after they’ve dialed a tow truck and Cassian kindly withholds judgment at Nesta’s faded blue lump of metal she calls a car that she gets the call.

It’s from her tenant, or rather, the nice elderly lady who lets Nesta live in her basement-turned-apartment.

“Lorene?” Nesta answers, confused.

“Oh, hun,” the woman answers, and from the sympathy in her voice, Nesta tenses up. “I headed downstairs this morning to check for mold and the rain...the whole basement’s flooded. There must have been a leak or something wrong with the entrance door, but I tried to grab as many of your things before I left.”

Nesta closes her eyes. Presses a forceful hand to her chest and tries to take calming breaths. “O-okay,” she says. “What does that mean, what do I do next?”

Cassian gives her a concerned look from where he leans against his truck. She ignores him.

“I’m getting the basement cleaned out and fixed as soon as I can, but the water damage looks pretty bad. The floors are probably gonna have to be replaced, and I don't know if insurance will cover this.”

She thinks of all her books and valuables in that apartment, taken out by the storm last night.

“You're going to have to find a new place to stay, hun. Most likely for a while.”

Nesta is on the verge of full-out panicking, but the last thing she needs is to have a breakdown in front of Feyre’s best friend. She clenches her fist so hard it hurts, and the bite of her nails takes away the sharp edge of her panic.

She breathes deep, but finally says, “I can do that.” She doesn't know if she can.

After a few more apologies from Lorene, Nesta finally hangs up, only to turn and brace her hands against the roof of her car.

“Everything alright?” Cassian asks slowly.

She needs a place to stay. Her mind works rapidly, going through the short, short list of people she might be able to ask for a bed to sleep on. Coming up empty, she moves on to the next option: motels.

Does she even have the money—?

“Nesta?” Cassian repeats. “What's going on?”

“I’m fine,” she says out loud, still not facing him. “I just need to break the bank a little and find a new place to stay, but it’ll be fine.”

“Find a new place to stay? What do you mean?” A light hand touches her elbow, and she whirls around in alarm. Cassian holds his hands up in placation. “Sorry, sorry,” he says.

Red-hot embarrassment creeps up Nesta’s cheeks. She’s losing it in front of this completely nice stranger—

She reins herself in, tries to remember things like common sense and social etiquette. “It’s okay,” she breathes out. “It’s really nothing. My apartment got flooded during the storm and I need to find a place to stay, and I’m upset, but I’ll get over it.” She nods resolutely, like the grown adult she is. Like she can afford to fix her car and pay for lodging at the same time.

Cassian considers her silently for a long moment, and Nesta thinks he must still be freaked out by her near-breakdown, when he finally says, “Well, you can always stay at my place.”

Her eyes might pop out of her head. “What? No. No.”

“Why not?” He turns hesitant. “Unless you have somewhere else to stay?”

Nesta’s silence is answer enough. She sees his gaze flip from questioning to determined and rushes to change his mind. “I won’t do that to you— I hate asking for favors and I hate making people go out of their way for me even more.” She sounds so forceful it comes off as harsh, which is all the better for convincing Cassian not to make her stay at his cabin.

“I have a feeling you hate a lot of things, Nesta.” He doesn’t back down. “You’re Feyre’s sister; the least I can offer you is free lodging.” After a moment, he adds, “Please.”

Nesta wants to laugh; he’s pleading with her to let her invade his home life. All because she’s Feyre’s sister. The reasoning leaves a bitter taste in her throat, but she doesn’t have the energy to argue with it. Not as the tow truck finally appears at the end of the road, driving up towards them. Cassian only looks at her. Decide now, he says silently.

Nesta exhales deeply through her nose. “Fine,” she grits. So much for getting through the day with her sanity unscathed.

***

Part Two

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla

[dylanxmin]

Arranged Beauty ∣ m.yg

this fic is part of the event that hosted by @ / House of Ddaeng network. 

y/n thought she is way good with being alone and rejects her parents insist on getting marrying with someone they offered, but soon after, she realizes she is not way good with being alone. contrary, she needs that arrange marriage.

pairing; min yoongi x reader

genre; fluff, angst, arranged marriage!ua, first date!au,

warnings; swearings, mention of sexual association, y/n gets bratty for a second but she’s gonna regret that, soft soft yoongi but also brat, jealous yoongi, they both just stupid,,

rating; pg-15

word count; 8.2 k

a/n; i have no idea what i did. it started as a waaay shorter story, but end like this, asfhas,, hope you’ll love this fic as much as like to write it. im curious about what you’ll think about this, so yes, feedbacks are highly appreaciated!! thank you for reading, lots of love ♡

Twenty-six. 

That was the age when your parents started to pressure you to have a decent life. According to them, one can call their life as a decent one, if they are married, but they were also okay with a short time engagement. And when you hit the age of twenty-six, they start to bother you, bombard you with their wills to be grandma and grandpa. 

Your mother's daring character even leads herself to offer you some pictures of the men she knows somehow. Lawyers, doctors, and of course the future CEOs of the very important companies. 

At the age of twenty-six, you thought they were going crazy or trying to make you go crazy. Of course, you vetoed every man she offered you, even though your mom can be very, very persistent, you handled the situation well. Avoiding them until they get sick of your stubborn attitudes, and they stop keeping their hopes high. Well, your little sister's marriage had helped you with the issue, but either because of this and that, they stopped forcing you. 

Even though your parents find it highly pathetic, you finally enjoyed winning the constant fight that was going on for years with them. In your single-roomed apartment, all by yourself, and no one there to heat your cold feet in the coldest days of winter. 

And at the age of thirty-two, you start to think a lot. Overworking, and overthinking yourself with the black space in your chest. 

The freedom you loved so much led you to stay single, one night stands, and the dates you go to a couple of times aside. Most days, it didn't bother you that much. Being alone and being all alone forever. Seriously, it didn't bother that much. Until you find yourself in the loop where you watch only romantic comedies, paying a great deal of money for the napkins, as you find yourself crying until your throat goes sore. 

That's how you found yourself dialing your sister's number, mumbling some bullshit over the phone. Throat sore, eyes puffy and red from all the crying, words falling from your lips, and Eunji finds it too hard to understand what you were talking about. She puts you on speaker, calls for her lovely husband he loves so much, and hoping Hoseok could understand what was going on with you. 

''... not wantin' that. Don' want to die alone,'' freshly married couple only manage to pull these words from your mouth, and couldn't clarify the thing you babbled. 

Does it sound completely pathetic? Well, if you have the authority, you can always blame the cherry martini. And if you have to be honest, despite you don't want to, it was more like lots of gin side with cherries. 

According to what you say to them-- you, of course, couldn't remember what you said. And how much they told your parents, you at the age of thirty-two found yourself in a first meeting. With the man you'll be married.

Arranged marriages weren't your thing, but seeing your friends getting married one by one, having children, and happily married in front of you, basically forced you for doing this. Thirty-two years old so-called modern advertiser gets sick of the loneliness she had and agrees to an arranged marriage. And this is no other person than you.  

When Eunji and Hoseok come to visit you and giving you the big news with a wide grin, you didn't think that they would find someone so quickly, but as the rumor says--rumor was no other than your sister--, the very charming neurosurgeon who is only thirty-five couldn't find himself a decent woman to marry. Not to your surprise, your parents get so hyped up with the news, and to your luck, the man--soon after you learn that his name was Yoongi. Min Yoongi-- happened to be the very best friends of Hoseok. 

Without wasting any more time, your parents meet with each other on the phone, both women burning with the desire for a grandchild, even though they already have. And the fathers, talking formally with each other, and saying how being single after the thirties is dangerous for one's career. Deciding the time and place for both of you two meet, and even your parents decide what you should wear. 

It all feels like you are the head actress in a movie, where your parents forced you to marry the rich man for your family's debt. In all reality, there was no debt or force. Maybe there is a little force, but in the end, you wanted them to find someone for you. When you keep thinking about it, guilt starts to creep towards your chest. Questions with unknown answers fill your mind. 

What if the man turns out as a psychopath? What if he has some weird kinks that you can't handle? The more you think everything scares the shit out of you. You cover your face with your palms, you groan while your head falls on the table. How could you be this stupid to agree on what your parents always wanted? Arranged marriage? What time is this? The late seventies? 

In the internet age, you really did agree on meeting with the man you probably were going to marry in a small coffee shop that your parents chose, wearing a blue dress that also your parents picked. 

Is it too late to go back? What if you leave before he gets here? Probably he doesn't know how you look--as you had no idea about his face or body image. A huge knot sits on your throat, making it hard to swallow your regrets. Not that you were giving lots of crap about someone's look, but what if he is not your type? Is it okay to leave after ten minutes of talk? What if--

''Ih-hım,'' before another ball of questions jerk into your mind, a fruity voice cuts you, ''L/N Y/N?'' while you taking your hands from your face and lifting your head from the table, the comforting fresh odor fills your nostrils even before you see the man. ''Y--yes,'' 

Between in your slight nods, twinkling your eyelashes while staring at the man in front of you. Thick blonde haired-man eyeing you above, a light smile hangs on his face, square glasses stand under the button nose. Contrary to your dismay, he is looking good. His smile gets wide, hangs his hand in the air, ''I'm Min Yoongi. It's nice to meet you,'' 

It takes a couple of minutes before you realize that you should greet him the way he did. Even though you try hard not to act like an idiot, you are flummoxed by his sudden appearance. The voice of the chair tumbling to the floor echoes in the shop, causing all the heads to turn towards you when you clumsily get up. ''Oh, I'm so.. sorry,'' you jabbered after your head bumps to the man's when both of you try to fix the chair. 

''I'm really sorry,'' you utter in agony and guilt. Probably you look like an idiot, rather than only feeling like it. He smiles and waves his hand like it's nothing after adjusting your chair. ''I'm not going to suffer from it, don't worry,'' he chuckles, eyes staring deeply. Even though he isn't much taller than you, his soft but scanning glares made you feel smaller. He put his hand in his pocket, flexing his shoulders while standing inches away from you. Before your mind works properly and offers him to sit, you keep watching his sight. Eyes wander, settles on the others without landing on you, glancing up to the ceiling. 

''Oh my--Please take a seat,'' you plead, gesturing the chair across from the table. His brows raise with your high pitched voice, but the soft smile takes its place without wasting time. He nods, taking his seat in front of you. The reason why you act like this is both caused by how attractive he is, and how nervous you are. Either way, you feel dump while sitting across from him. 

After you take your place, long silence arises between you two. So, you take the advance from this silence by scanning him. From head to toe. 

He is wearing a dark blue sweater, a black coat on top of it, with black pants. The only colorful thing was his blonde hair, and it surprises how he looks so good with it. One glance and anyone could understand how important he is and the job he does. He is intimidating, contrary to his small smile on the corner of his lips. When your stare meets with him, you understand that he is scanning you the same way you do. Were you looking good? Does the dress look stupid in this weather? Despite his coat and sweater, you were wearing a blue thin dress with black spots. You wonder if the cut on the dress is too low or not. Not that you can do anything about it. 

''So, you are a doctor?'' his eyebrows rise with your statement. It was stupid of you, but the bizarre silence only causes you to grow more anxious. Yoongi places his hands on the table, holding his laugh on the back of his throat. He feels how anxious you are, and he enjoys how your expression changes when you think you said something stupid. He finds it cute. He nods and smiles while your face goes pink. ''Neurosurgeon, yes.'' 

''Cool,'' blinking your lashes, you start to nod in small. You didn't know if he is interested in you or the opposite, so you didn't want to make, or say something weird and scare him away. So, when the waiter came and took your orders, you thanked him mentally. Because you were at the edge of asking how much money he makes, and looking like a total gold digger. Aish... why can't you act like a normal woman for a minute? 

''And you?'' the husky voice of the semi-stranger made your heart flinch and gathered all of your attention to himself. You tilt your head and he sees your glazed face. ''What you do for a living?'' he asks one more time. Rather than finding you oddly idiot, he likes the way your cheeks go pink. ''Ah. Work. You mean... my job,'' he nods, the smile bigger now. ''I-I'm working for an advertisement company... yes,'' normally you would find your job highly amusing and cool, but with him, you feel small. Like the job you have was nothing, as he touches brains every day. Oh... you feel like an idiot. A real idiot. 

''Oh. That's cool,'' he smiles, nodding his head the same way you did. And he enjoys the way your cheeks blushes after his little tease. 

And you couldn't understand why he was acting so... kind. Contrary to all the things you did, which they were very stupid, he didn't mind them. Rather, he looked like he enjoyed them, and this literally made you feel uneasy. It was strange. Yes... strange. 

''Really?'' you tilt your brow, ''You think that's cool? Or, are you trying to insult me?'' his eyes went round, blinking them a couple of times. 

''Did I sound like that?'' he lifts his hands up, fixing his posture to emphasize and look sincere to you. ''I didn't mean to sound like that. I'm sorry and of course, I am not trying to insult you nor the job you do.'' you nod, expecting his apology. It was your time to enjoy the way he looks dumbfounded. 

''Iced americano,'' when the waiter comes with your orders, you hear him release a long breath under his breath. The way he takes a sip from his cup, and not knowing where to look kinda warms your heart, and you feel bad for mocking him, but still, you were having fun with this. 

After a couple of minutes of silence, you decide it wasn't fun to mock with him. Instead, it killed the mood and now Yoongi wasn't talking, probably too scared to talk with a psycho like you as you just accused him something he didn't do like some hebete. And the way you found it funny, left its place to regret while you were playing with your mug, chewing inside of your mouth in guilt. 

''H-how did you met with... Hoseok?'' yes, you know it is a lame question to ask but the stupid awkwardness was eating you alive, and you want it come to an end.  

''College,'' he pressed his lips together, eyes carefully sizes you up as he doesn't want to say something to offend you. And you were sure that was going to be the last thing he said, and probably leave after drinking his coffee in rush. But he surprises you with the sudden giggle. ''In the first year of college, we decided to go to a Carnival and I still don't know why we decided to do it. But in the roller coaster, suddenly someone held my hand and never left it until it stopped--''

''Oh my... don't tell me it was Hoseok!'' you jerk your hand to your lips, very amused by the new information he gives. 

''Jackpot.'' he doesn't even try to hold his smile back, nodding his head cutely. ''I had to take care of him for the rest of the night. Because he was so frightened and needed someone.'' both of you start to laugh with the memory of him. Even though you would never think Hoseok would do that, somehow you could imagine him doing that. Somehow that suits him well. 

''Yoongi, you gave me the best card ever against him.'' you chuckled, wiping the tears from your eyelids. ''He will feel remorse over setting this meeting,'' your stomach starts to ache a little from the laugh you share with him. And you were glad that he didn't let go of this date and made you laugh like this. 

Yoongi waved his hand while leaning to take a sip from his cup, ''He will probably kill me for telling you this.'' the corners of his mouth turned up before he talked again. ''You should protect me from him as I share this with you.'' you exchange looks with him. The playfulness of him surprised you and how he changed the mood so smoothly. 

You nod with a smile on the corner of your lips, staring at his eyes. ''Of course. I will.'' 

After exchanging the memory of your mutual friend, the bleak mood left its place to a warmer one. There were a couple of good jokes, more questions to get to know each other better, and you almost forgot that this was the arranged date and you had so much fun rather than you assume. With the timid glances, leaning each other to hear better, and the way you two get closer in time felt like a real date. Not a date your parents arranged. 

Now you know about his love for music, and one could never doubt his passion for it. The way he talks about it causes your heart to hum, seeing how his eyes go all shiny while showing you his carefully made it playlist warmed your chest, you can't lie. Seeing someone getting this enthusiastic about the thing he loves brought the memories of how you liked to paint at one time. Getting all dirty while trying to achieve your goals, nose went numb because of the smell. You loved it. 

Somehow, the blonde man finds his way to your heart, and you had no objections to this. 

''Okay, tell me yes,'' you tear yourself off from the memories, and adjust your focus on him. Hands up in the air, eyes gleaming in anticipation. 

''I will,'' you said in a curious tone, seeing the corners of his mouth turning up, ''If, I know the reason,'' 

You giggle the way his eyes going round, he looks like you betrayed him. A thing about him always finds its way to make you feel relaxed around him, and it was like you knew him for more than three hours. ''After all the things we share, all the laughter and all these minutes. I thought you would say 'yes', but I guess I'm a fool,'' 

''Uh, if you are going to be this dramatic, then yes. For what is in your mind,'' you can't ignore the gasp that escaped his mouth, hand wraps his heart, shushing to fix the broken pieces of it. ''We were thinking about treating her with the best chicken wings in the country, but she decides to act rude. Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?'' he pouts, faking an attitude. 

''Oh. Pardon me and my bad mouth.'' you decide to continue the game he started. ''From now on, I won't have a second doubt about saying 'yes'. Promise.'' his mouth curved into a smile after you lifted your pinky finger in the air, and without wasting time, he wraps his around yours. 

''And tell me more about those chickens,'' you say, stealing a laugh from his chest. 

''Oh my--god.'' your hiccup interrupts you while laying yourself on the back of the booth. You lick the sweet chilly from your finger, having a food baby in your stomach never felt this good. It was the best chicken you ever eat, and you almost started to cry after tasting it the first time. The sweet chili sauce and the crispy cover on the chicken wings just blew your mind and took your mouth with it. If you could, you would eat a dozen of them. 

''Right!'' Yoongi voices with pleasure, takes another bite to fill his mouth, ''This brings heaven to your mouth. No less.'' your laugh cuts in the middle as a cramp finds its way to your stomach. You really ate too much. 

''You were right, but I guess I'm going to faint.'' opening the little packet, you start to clean your fingers with the wet wipe, the sharp smell immediately fills your nostrils. You did enjoy every bite, it wasn't a lie. But you could feel the heaviness on your stomach from all the eating and the drinking. You were over thirty and there was no point worrying about eating too much or drinking beer on the first date. 

To be honest, you would worry about this if the date was not with him. But with him, with Yoongi you don't feel the need for acting differently. You like the way you can do whatever you want to do. 

''What about another round?'' his eyes gleamed with a mischievous hint. It was triggering the ache in your stomach, and as every sensible human being, you should say no. But the sweet taste lingers on your teeth, numbs your tongue with its savor. 

''You are inviting me to sin.'' you wipe the corner of your mouth while trying to lean towards him, but the body feels like a ton. Despite the ache and the handicap on your way to breath, you reveal a big grin. How could you say no while he looks at you with those bright browns? You couldn't. ''And I'm happy to participate in this. Course you need to pay for my hospital expenses,'' 

He lets out a choked, husky laugh. Holding his stomach while serving you the best gummy smile, and looks deep into your eyes after adjusting his posture. ''Believe me,'' the way he licks his bottom lips just does something to you. Levitates your stomach, sticks your breath on your throat. If someone would ask you, you would gladly accept to watch him sit in front of you. That's something you are sure about. ''You won't regret eating too much of this. No one can.'' 

He holds his hand up after tearing his eyes from you, calling the waitress for the second round. A grin stuck on his lips, you stupidly believe him. You would believe if he said he is the president of the world, and that was stupid. But you didn't mind, as your heart never filled with this much joy for so long. 

With a wiggle in your stomach, you feel heavy on the heart. Overwhelmed by his actions, the way he affects you. The way he has the cutest, heartwarming smile made you angry as he had no right to look like this. With the blonde hair, smart-looking glasses, and the round button nose that you just wanted to boop your finger. 

It was enough to catch you on his spell but too much for your poor heart.

You know that you owe a big thanks to Hoseok for arranging this date-- you didn't know what this was, to be honest. Was it a date that he agreed just for fun and not calling you in the morning, or is he thinking this is more serious than a silly date? You didn't even know what or how to think about this. Yes, you agreed to an 'arranged marriage' thing with your parents, but were you going to marry the first man you date? Were you going to decide after one date? 

Whether deciding it after the first date, or the first man, you only know one thing. And that is the amount of joy and happiness you feel heavy on your chest. Only watching him while he is eating chicken wings in extreme delight was enough to change the speed of your heartbeats, so you had only one thought. Letting him decide. 

Your judgment wouldn't be clear or sensible, you know that as the heat on your chest won't stop growing minute by minute you spend with him. 

Letting him decide if this is just a one-time thing he just agreed for his friend's sake, or he would consider marrying you. You didn't know if handing the ball in his hands was being selfish or the contrary, but you just want to enjoy the moment and not overthink it. Or about him. 

No lie, you liked him. Maybe even too much for the first date, but screwing this up the last thing you want as you always do. Selfish or not, you choose not to make a decision. 

''Can I open my eyes, now?'' 

Everybody would like a little excitement in their life, as well as you. But you never imagine that excitement would be like this, taking somewhere on your first date with a blindfold. It was much more likely a napkin from the place you ate the chicken wings than a blindfold, but it didn't change the result. 

Yoongi decided to take you somewhere you could burn the calories you have been whining about. Probably you wouldn't come up with an idea about the place, but as you were almost walking for almost ten minutes, it should be close. Thinking and trying to guest the destination was useless, as you never came here before. 

One second you were worrying about marriage, but now, all that worry turns into losing your lungs. If you could stop being dramatic, you trust Yoongi enough that he wouldn't do such a thing, but would you ever stop? That is trickier than taking away by a blindfold. 

You hear Yoongi's sigh, very likely getting sick of your questions, as you never shut up asking questions. But how could you stop exactly? How could you expect him to hold you by the wrist, covering the napkin on your eyes after handling the check and saying he knows how to burn those calories. He is not resembling a creep, but who would do and say such a thing? It is suspicious. 

''Okay. You would probably slap me after finding out where we are, and the unnecessary act of cutting your sight,'' he pauses to let a giggle, hands of him leave your waist and wrist, ''Either way, prepare to defeat Y/N,'' 

Before his fingertips find the hem of the napkin and free your eyes, you collect the latest clues about the place and the thing he said. A couple of boy's voices reach your ears, shooting and directing each other. The very last hints you could get before the lights dazzle your eyes. 

''Ow,'' you whispered, covering your eyes to protect them from lights in a reflex. 

Yoongi stands there, waiting beside you while you blink your lashes in the cutest way possible, watching your eyes go between him and the basketball court. The corner of his mouth quirked up, enjoying way too much with how you look at him with wide eyes in awe. ''So?'' he holds his arms in the air, makes a circle with his body, and stops after turning his face to yours once again with a proud smile on his lips. 

''So?'' you repeat, tilting your brows. Seeing the three boys playing basketball on one of the hoops, the other one is empty, waiting for you two to play on there. There was another couple of people who were sitting on their portable chairs, drinking from their cups, and laughing. It was them and the boys who were too caught up with their game but even thinking to play in front of them made you nervous. It was duskily illuminated, but still, you had worries to play. 

''What, too scared to play with me?'' pale blond lifts an eyebrow, seeing the timid look on your eyes, he leans over, brushing his shoulder to yours, ''You know you can't beat me, don't you?'' a sheepish smile stands on his face to tease you. Yoongi didn't know about you too much, yet he could understand pushing your legs would pay. 

''Tch, please.'' just the way he thought, your ego beats your anxiety. ''I could crush you with my amazing triple shoots,'' you stick your tongue out, can't help but act like three years old while challenging him. The way you act, causes him to burst into a laugh. When he thinks you can't look cuter than before, you stand in front of him, sticking your tongue out. He must have done something so good to have you in return. 

''Well well, then you should show me those 'amazing' shoots,'' while you tilt your brows for the second time today, he leaves you in surprise, turning his back at you and starts to walk away. 

''We don't have a ball to play!'' you try to remind him, yelling at his back but he turns around, grin on his face. If he tries to look cool, you know he won't look his butt on the ground because walking backward isn't cool, or a sensible thing to do. ''You think?'' he shouts back, the mischievous glow could be seen from where you stand. 

What does 'you think' mean? You don't have a ball to play if he didn't plan this before and take one with himself but to your knowledge, you are not blind. Because one can see the orange ball-- You could go on the debate in your mind if he wasn't talking with the boys you notice before, taking their ball after having a small talk with them. 

Yoongi walks over you, bounces the ball, swirling it around his body. Basically showing off, trying to surprise you with the moves he made. You watch as the wind messes with his hair, how he grips the ball, and bounce it like a professional. He is good at what he does, and you could understand that with a glimpse of look, but also you can catch the way his eyes follow the ball, lips curled up with the delight he feels. 

You cheer for him when he passes the ball between his legs, without paying it much effort. You didn't know he was this good, as he never mentioned his interest in it, but seeing it with your bare eyes rather than just mentioning is way better. Well, little did he know you haven't shared the same interest with him. 

''Okay Jordan, pass me the ball,'' you wave your hand, directing him where to stand after he throws it. He giggles the name you call him, blessing your ears while waiting for you to make a shoot. 

It's only been a day, yet you feel like knowing him more than one day, way too comfy around him while talking, eating, or acting. You don't know if this is one of your dreams, where it affects your subconscious because all of the romantic movies you had watched too much in depression. Or simply, this man who makes you do stupid things like eating dozens of chicken wings is just a wizard. And you are affected by one of his spells, can't make proper decisions, and probably he isn't this good looking. It is all because of the spell he did. 

His eyes are not this bright, his cheeks are not that cute and tempting you to squeeze them. Or his lips are not that mesmerizing and you only want to taste them every time he smirks just because of the damn spell. You are old enough not to charm by a hair, yet all you want to do is bury your fingers in that velvety fuzz. 

''Are you gonna show me those shoots or too scared to move?'' his mouth twisted, pale skin peeking under his sweater and the coat he is wearing, glowing shamelessly. You nod, plastering a smile on your lips, can't get enough of his teasing. Even though you want to see his face after the shoot you are going to, retarding is more enjoyable. 

So when you throw the ball with a false effort, causing it to fall inches away from the hoop, you hear the squeaked laugh you never heard before. Apparently, it was too funny for him as he almost kneeled in front of you from laughing, holding his stomach while his shoulders shake. ''Well, we can say that wasn't the amazing one so far, huh?'' he teases while wiping his eyelids. You could offend by his actions if this isn't all an act, and in reality, he is the one who should laugh at. 

''Trying again? Okay, I can teach you the right way after that,'' you want to throw the ball to his head, his cockiness amazed you as you bite your lip to hold your laugh behind. The popular neurosurgeon was nowhere to be found when you eyed him. And you like the way he leaves the maturity aside, having fun with you and the time you two spend. You could easily say after spending enough time that he wasn't acting, the laugh that leaves his throat is real, as well as the shine in his eyes. Part of you doesn't want to wreck his mood or turn off the cocky light in his eyes but on the other hand, you desperately want to see his face after you stop acting and shoot a real basket. 

You bet the blonde prig won't be expecting you to take an oh so good shoot, and the cunning side of you wants to wipe that smile on his face. You want it so bad and can't help the way your body moves to the right corner, dividing your strength equally to your legs and arms before taking a shoot. With a light jump, you send the ball right into the basket, it takes two turns on the hoop before passing through it. It wasn't the best triple shoot, but you only played it in your free time with your family, yet you know that your body reveals that you played basketball very well. Much to his dismay, it was a perfect basket. You turn your head as you want to see his face, putting your hands on your waist and serving him a big grin. ''How about this one?'' the hint of your laughter can clearly be heard by him, not that you want to hide. 

He stares. 

And he stares for a long one minute, not talking nor giving you an idea with his expressions. After fixing your posture, your lips quirk in a pout, brows furrowed as you can't understand why he hasn't said anything or did. A knot sits on your stomach, you want to say something but your mouth goes dry with the uncertainty. While the deep silence takes over around you two, finally he shows a feeling on his face. 

A line appeared between his brows, a beam flash past in his eyes, and he started to walk over to you. 

Was he angry? Because you can throw a ball? Yes, you wanted some reaction, but anger wasn't the quite close expression you expect. With every step he takes, the hair on your body stands on end as you didn't know what to say. So you try to ease the nervousness you felt, ''Not so cocky after seeing this girl can play, huh?'' you mock, pointing yourself with your forefinger, wiggling your brows before he stands in front of you. 

Way... way too close. 

He stands so close that you could even see the little mole on the left side of his face, right beside his nose placed cutely on his cheek. The tiny whiteness on the same side of his lips, breaking the proportion but adding him another sweet flaw. You even pay attention to his facial line on the side of his nose, only to abstain from his eyes. Abstaining from capture by his lovely, velvety browns. And when he starts to speak, you can smell the chili sauces mixed with the beer he drank. 

''Can you wear my coat?'' with a mouth that slowly opens, you stare at him without blinking. He tilts his brows slightly, it was tiny and almost non-visible, but you catch the twitch on his jaw. 

''I'm sorry but, what?'' you baffled, obviously not expecting him asking that, and can not put it on logic. Under his bashful stare, you hear the sound when he takes a deep breath between his teeth. Cocking your head aside, you try to evaluate if you are cold or not, but you know that you haven't done anything for him to take as a hint that you are cold. Darting your eyes at him, your stomach flips over after realizing how good he looks under the slight street light that illuminated the court, the shadow of his eyelashes falling on his cheeks, mesmerizing with every blink. ''Y... you want me to wear your coat. And that's why? I'm not cold if this is what you think--'' 

''It's not. Not because you are cold,'' you watch him slipping his fingers on his hair, ruining the straight strands with a pout. Yoongi opens his mouth, but the weight of his words feels too much, he closes it again. He is thirty-five years old and should be mature enough to press this puberty feeling, and not want to cover you with his coat so no one can see the way your dress moves, expose the skin you covered with the same dress that betrayed you. And also, he knows he is not in the place to tell you what to do, or get jealous the way the others who size you up. But the first time after he gets mature enough, Yoongi can't find control over his emotions. ''I thought... thought that you could feel uncomfortable with the... dress,'' 

''Oh,'' you bite your bottom lip after getting caught off guard. Not that you are irritated or think it's possible, but is he just jealous, or is this just your mind playing games and causing you to think the impossible one? 

''But you don't have to. I mean if you are okay with your dress. You just don't... don't have to wear this.'' bubbles of laughter fills your throat as he stands stunned with wide eyes, 'o' shaped mouth is enough to melt your heart and spread heat to your chest. You bite harder your lip to hold your laugh, bend your head staring your shoes. ''Is it too distracting for you to beat me, Yoongi?'' darting over your eyes at him, you open them wide, rolling his name on your tongue only to tease him more. Getting even closer to his face, you talk in a pout. ''Do you think it's can affect others just the way it does to you?'' 

An almost unhearable whimper leaves his lips, shaky breath hits your cheek. A shade of embarrassment crept towards his cheekbones, increasing his cuteness. He stares speechless, you could only catch the loud gulp from his throat and you know it is enough of teasing him. 

''Okay, I'm admitting.'' taking a step back, you pat his shoulder. ''I'm a little cold, and it looks cozy.'' you lie while pinching his coat. His dull expression slowly fades, the corner of his lips tilt in the shape of a smile. Eye bags puffing up, face lines appear only to puss his soft cheeks on his cheekbones. 

You are not going to admit this to him, but the way your heart flinches under your chest, the way his soft smile cuts your breath, and the way your fingers physically pains to touch his cheeks just unbearable to hold on. At first, you only thought that his lips were in a good shape, can be even called cute but right now, they were just tempting. It was almost aching how your feet itch to take a step closer, and closer until your breaths can mix with each other, and the so imagined taste meets with your lips. 

''Here,'' he acts, taking his coat off of him swiftly to wrap it around you, and he does gently. Helping you to pass your arms in its sleeve, patting your shoulders after he links each button, as he looks way too pleased with the gummy smile that pinned to his face. ''Better now?'' he asks sincerely, wanting to make sure of your comfort, so you nod in appreciation. 

The heat immediately rushes over to your body, you thought you were joking before but after feeling the relaxation on your muscles, you surprise how cold you were. Wearing a dress in this weather without any coat was a big mistake, you noted. 

''So, if there is nothing you can object to, can we go on and play? Or, are you too scared?'' he scoffs at your playfulness, tilting a brow. Yoongi does not know how to react the way you wiggle your brows, the way you dare him with the buffoon smile. Luckily, he has another plan on his mind. ''So eager to taste the defeat, huh? All right then, I will give you a lesson.'' 

''Hah. Bring it on--''

''-But, before you get all moody, I want to do something.'' in return of his sparkling browns, your lips curl into a pout. Not expecting him to cut you off like this, even though he didn't do it without having any kindness. It only takes two seconds for you to realize what he was up to when his palms cover your cheek, timid touches of his fingertips on your skin. Is he going to kiss you in public? In your first time? Should you object? Between trying to ease the chaos on your mind, and understanding if you want this or not, hot breath already stands way too close to your lips. It was not a lie that you were thinking about kissing him a minute ago, but when this happened as a reality, you stand there like a deer in the headlights. 

Before you can choke yourself with overthinking, his whisper cuts it. ''Can I?'' he raises his brows, asking for your permission one more time before going for it, making sure of your emotions and thoughts about himself. Eyes of him scan yours pleadingly, as he was trying to emphasize his intentions. You were so nonplussed by what he was up to that you couldn't even move a muscle, only blink hard enough to capture the moment, face turning scarlet with the heat just crept towards. Feeling your heartbeats on your cheeks, under his fingertips. Every loud hammer brought your heart over your mouth, mouth dried completely. But you manage to voice, almost inaudible. 

''Please,'' 

When you met with his lips, it wasn't soft as you expected due to his dried lips, but soon after it changed. After you part your lips to capture his bottom lip between yours, a ball of warmness just explodes. Reaches till your fingertips from your chest, tiny mewl slides by you with the strong rhapsody you have inside. 

It was palm pulling, lips trying to deepen the kiss kind of keenness you both felt for learning, acknowledging each other. Soon after one of his hands left your cheek to pull you closer as your fingers weren't enough to do so. The others were long forgotten, it was just you and him. Everywhere was clouded, protecting your intimacy from others. 

You were only tasting, knowing, and capturing each other. 

When the kiss broke out as both of you needed fresh air in your burning lungs, you were shocked by the way you carried away by your desire. You, probably Yoongi too, was feeling the same way, find this very immature, unwisely but the thing you feel, and wish that he was feeling the same way you do was beyond your imagination. The attraction was between you from the first time you started to bond today, but you could never think that would be this euphoric. 

Between heavy breathing, and adjusting the moment you just shared cuts off by his hoarse voice. ''Was this highly good or is it just me?'' you snort at his silliness, slap him by the head before he can react. 

''You'll get your answer if you can beat me,'' tearing yourself apart, you take the ball despite his whines. But as he sees you won't step back, he sends hair-raising glares at you. 

Soon after, the contest loses its solemnity and turns into something where Yoongi chases you with the ball to throw at you. And you found yourself giggling, running away while screaming in tiny. With a glance at you two, and no one would believe you two for being over thirty but it felt so good to act without caring for anyone. You almost forget the feeling of happiness, cooing from joy, and having someone not minding your bullshits even on day one. 

Of course, you accept how the kiss felt 'highly good', holding your palms up in surrender, before laying on the grass. Not that you lost the game, more likely from winning the better prize. The blond neurosurgeon, at age thirty-five was your prize. To be honest, he is the best thing that happened to you in ages without any exaggeration. For all you know is that maybe arranged marriages were not that bad. 

Frankly, you wouldn't dare to lie and say you still object it while watching the man beside you. He gave you more than you expected. The comfort, happiness, and tickling bubbles on your chest. And you hope that would last long enough to the day you knew each other like an open book. As you wanted to know and more about him, every little detail, and every tiny mimic he makes. 

And you will see that day if you are lucky enough.

''We are out of rice!'' you flinch with the loud voice, take a big sigh at the view you see in the mirror. Lipstick extends along to your right cheek from your lips, as the outcome of hearing the thick voice without any warnings. ''And the last toilet paper just finished!'' tsking audibly, you take the wet tissue to clean the mess you made. While wiping the ruins of the lipstick, you hear the whining voice once more, closer this time. 

''We don't have any toothpaste, either. God, why don't we have anything? Aren't you supposed to take care of the grocery this time? It was your turn,'' the man is nothing but in black sweatpants and a white shirt appears, constant grumble on his mouth trying your patience. ''You have lipstick on your cheek,'' he points his face to address where the stain is as you lock your gaze on him by the mirror. 

''You don't say,'' lifting the brows you watch him narrowing his eyes, scoffing at your answer. ''And I was thinking why I have wet tissue on my hand. Thank you, babe.'' he rolls his eyes, sighs while ruining his hair. Black hair flies in the air, every pinch falling another direction and it warms your heart. Your husband dyed his hair black from blonde after having a white hair crisis and deciding to dye it for good. Not that you didn't like the blonde hair on him, but black was something different. It gave destructive charisma to him that you adore so much. 

It is the greatest thing since sliced bread. 

''When you say they'll bring Hoseong and Aera again?'' after finishing the cleaning, you turn to your husband who asks nonchalantly but the light in his eyes says he is happy. ''They'll be here any time soon. Why?'' 

He shrugs a shoulder, acting as he is not interested. ''Just curios. I'll adjust my appointments so,'' you nod, giggling as you decide to reach him. Leaving your bean bag chair, you take a two-step to wrap your arms around his neck. 

Brushing your nose to his, ''You love to hang out with them, don't you?'' you ask, mentioning your nephews. Even before he admits, you already knew that he adores them. Hoseong at nine and Aera at seven years old buck of happiness for Yoongi, and you can see it in his eyes. The way he plays with them, caring for them always puts a light serene in your heart, but you two never mentioned having a child. Soon after you are scared to open it as you are afraid that he doesn't want to have kids, but the love he had for your nephews always confused your mind and heart. 

''Well, they are fun to hang out,'' he tears his eyes from you but you catch the attempt to hide the smile he had. Lips forcefully stay flat but gaze full of bubbles. But when you tilt your brows, staring at him with a pout, you break him. ''Okay, okay... I love those chubby kiddos. You know how smart they are, don't you? Aera asked my opinion about Pluto, whether it's a planet or not. Can you believe it?'' 

''You are so whipped,'' you let out a laugh that wrinkles your eyelids. His enthusiasm over your nephews made your day, a bolt of laughter spilled by your lips over and over again until you managed to ease it. ''such a cute man,'' wiping your tears away from your face cut by his hands when he grabbed yours. 

''Y/N, did you... did you ever think about having a child? I know we never talked about this all these years, but I guess... No, I know I want one. Yes, I want us to have a child to raise together.'' his eyes burned with determination. It was enough for you to know he really serious about it. There was nothing for you to obligate it if you look. Both of you get paid well, had a nice home and big enough even for two kids, moreover, both of you love each other so much and you know that you two will love the exact same way if you have a child in this home. ''What do you think?'' 

Taking a deep breath to ease your thoughts you eyed the man you adored so much. His keenness sparkled in his eyes, waiting for your answer to be the happiest man alive. Even if you wouldn't want a kid in your life, you couldn't break his heart by saying no, but fortunately, you want this as much as him. 

''I would love to have a baby who has the same gummy smile you got on there,'' Yoongi, your husband coos after what you said, holding you by the waist and twirls your body with himself. He acts like you just said you are pregnant, but you laugh and kiss him back when his soft one finds your lips. He thanks, swears that he will be the greatest dad and husband for this family. 

The ring on the door cuts his words, tearing himself apart from you, he leaves to open the door wiggling his body in great joy. But you believe him. You would believe him even if he hadn't sworn and put his heart on it. He already was the best husband ever, and you had nothing to worry, frighten for. He will be the best dad in this world, as you know because he said so. Just like the time, he said you two will make a good couple after he took you home on your first date. As he said, you took his heart and his last name after four years. 

Never regretting for one second on agreeing to go on an arranged date. And you knew that you won't have any other regret in the future, either. Not with the sweetest neurosurgeon you love so much. 

[jbarness]

huh, that's new

a social media au

[27: news]

warnings: language, "pregnancy"?? uhh idk what else hehehe

a/n: this is a pretty long chapter i think? (2000+ words) im very nervous about this chapter cause its kinda a big deal asdfghjk anyways, please please please tell me what you think about this! and ik this idea is very odd HAHAHAHA but what else would you expect from two dumbasses named bucky and y/n? hehehe i really hope you enjoy this chapter!! ♡

flashback is italicized

huh, that's new - masterlist

You wanted to laugh so badly.

For some reason, your housemates are panicking over who the hell set this gender reveal party up in the living room. 

It was you. With the help of Bucky of course.

Natasha and Wanda have been shouting “I’m not pregnant, I think you are!” to each other for about 10 minutes now. Steve decided that he needed answers too, so he joined in the shouting. Pietro’s talking to his camera, probably vlogging the whole thing. Peter’s talking on the phone with MJ asking if she set this up. Sam’s the only one enjoying the food. Bucky was looking at you from across the room, keeping the smile from forming on his face. 

Just about an hour or so ago, you and Bucky were just setting the whole thing up. Bucky was pushing the table to the living room when you arrived with the cake. You placed the rest of the blue and pink food on the table along with other decorations. There were many variations of food, but the cupcakes that have toppers that said: “Here for the Sex” were Bucky’s personal favorite despite not knowing how they taste. The balloons were still lifeless when both of you hung the streamers on the walls with the banner that matched the topper of the cupcakes. After finally finding the balloon pump, blue and pink balloons filled the living room. Some were on the floor while you hung the others on the wall. When you were content with the appearance of the room, you and Bucky went your separate ways.

You got the idea of throwing a gender reveal party when you were working at the diner one evening. “You’ll be at the gender reveal party next week right?” the woman at the booth asked her friend. “Of course, Jill asked me to pick up the cake,” Her friend says. When you got the idea, you thought it was silly, so you dismissed it. Later on, you thought of more ideas and details to add, then in a blink of an eye, you were in the bakery, asking the baker if they can make a three-layered cake of your favorite flavor with the inside colored blue.

“Maybe P set this all up for a prank again?” Nat looked at Pietro who was filming the whole thing. “Just because I have a channel that doesn’t mean I always prank!” Pietro said, turning off his camera.

Steve sighed, “Okay, one by one. Nat and I were the first ones here, but it was all here already when we arrived. Wanda was the next one here, she was in the bookstore the whole morning. Bucky and Sam were next and they only came here because he saw the Instagram story of Nat. Pietro and Peter came home today from LA and Peter from Tony’s. Lastly, Y/N came home from the cafe,” everyone nodded. 

After a couple of minutes of silence, you couldn’t handle it anymore, “Okay, I can’t do it. I give up. It was me. I set this up,” you laughed. 

“But why Y/N?” Peter gasped, “Are you pregnant?”

Everyone’s eyes were on you now. Natasha’s eyes widened, “Wait, who’s the father?”

Bucky was laughing internally, you could tell. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he turned around to look at the window. You could see his shoulders slightly shaking, he’s definitely laughing. Good thing the attention wasn’t on him. “I uhh… I don’t know,” you said. You technically haven't met Bucky's dad, you were being honest.

“Doesn’t matter, my sweet Y/N! We’ll support you and help you. Anything you need” Sam swallowed the macaroon whole before going to you and hugging you tightly.

“I know you will.” In less than a minute, you were trapped in the middle of the group hug.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? We would’ve known the gender by now!” Pietro said as the group untangled from the hug. 

You laughed, “I was enjoying the show.” 

“Well, come on! I wanna know if my godchild is a boy or a girl!” Wanda yelled excitedly and went to the kitchen to grab the knife. 

Bucky walked towards you before you could join the others who are now gathered at the table, waiting for plates and the knife. “I’m tellin’ ya, doll, they’re gonna be frustrated at us,” he said. You shrugged, “They already are.”

Wanda handed you the knife to cut the cake. Everyone took out their phones to take a video of the “soon-to-be-mother”. You were trying very hard not to laugh at this point and so was Bucky, who was taking a video of his friends’ reactions to what they’re about to say.

You sliced a triangle on one side of the cake and pulled it out, showing blue. “Oh my God! It’s a boy!” Peter yelled, jumping around with Pietro. Sam and Steve took turns hugging you and they were later pushed aside by Wanda and Nat. “I’m happy for you, hun I am, but I really hope that a girl comes out of you,” Natasha said while hugging you and Wanda tightly. 

You cleared your throat, catching everyone’s attention, “It’s actually a Bucky” you said, nonchalantly. 

“Bucky?” Wanda pulled away slightly from the hug, making Nat do the same. “A Bucky? As in it’s Bucky’s baby?” Steve asked, wide-eyed, obviously excited, looking at Bucky who is now looking back at you, covering his mouth with his hands, to keep himself from laughing. 

“I meannnnn… Bucky... is my... baby,” you said while extending your arm, inviting Bucky to come closer, which he did. 

Peter was still confused and it shows, “You’re Bucky’s mom?” he asked, making Pietro smack his head, “Pete, it means they’re dating... Right?”

Both you and Bucky nodded, “We are.”

“Oh my God! Fucking finally! I was starting to think you’ll never tell each other how you feel! Do you know how frustrated you two made me?” Sam yelled, throwing a pillow at Bucky.

Natasha was yelling “I fucking knew it! I told you so!” repeatedly to her boyfriend while Wanda kept pinching both your and Bucky’s cheeks saying, “CUTIESSS!” 

You looked at Bucky, “they don’t look frustrated” you said which made Bucky roll his eyes and smile. Both of you laughed when you saw Steve silently saying “Yes! My ship!” Either that or something about shit.

“Calm your asses. Now, this party isn’t just for us to announce that we’re together. This is also a party for Natty and Steve. Sorta like the part one of the roomies night we’re gonna have” you said, looking at the couple.

“Thank you, Y/N, but I don’t wanna think about moving right now. What I do want is for you two to give us the fucking details about how you two finally got together” Nat said, making everyone agree and sit down and get comfortable in the living room.

Bucky cleared his throat and looked on his left, where you sat. “It happened the night that her friend came to the city.”

☆

To say you were excited for tonight was an understatement. 

Last night, you already picked out the clothes you wanted to wear tonight. It was simple, really, just a pair of jeans and the most comfortable hoodie you owned. Or should you go with a plain sweater instead? Printed shirt? Oversized shirt? Your grey sweatpants? They look comfortable. Or your black ones?

You ended up with your first choice. 

Wanda and Nat noticed how upbeat and cheery you were the whole day. It wasn’t exactly like you to be this happy at 7 am. You cooked a lot more food than usual and you haven’t even had your coffee yet. “Maria’s in the city today!” was the only excuse you thought of every time they asked you. You had some errands to do that day, its something you find really boring and exhausting but you found yourself skipping to the bank. Skipping, not walking. 

At the tower, Bucky was a nervous wreck. He couldn’t focus much on what he was doing. He would zone out and forget what he was typing, then he remembered he wasn’t typing at all, he was fixing a floor plan. Sam being Sam, noticed how Boinky was acting. He kept teasing Bucky about being distracted while Steve kept asking him to stop. “What’s up with you, Buck? What’s making you zone out?” Steve asked, giving Bucky some water. Bucky just shrugged and continued whatever the hell he was doing. 

The evening came too fast for Bucky and too slow for you. You got home, got dressed to meet with Maria for dinner before seeing Bucky. When Bucky got home, he changed into something more casual and fixed himself at his bathroom. “Tell her tonight, you fucking idiot,” he told himself, looking at the mirror before grabbing his helmet and his old helmet that you proclaimed yours when you were hanging out before. He smiled at the memory then remembered that Dot never even got to see his motorcycle. Huh. 

He picked you up at the hotel that Maria was staying at. In a few minutes, you were at the bar that you two used to go to. You two bought a couple of drinks before going to the spot - your spot. You almost forgot how beautiful it was there, especially at night. 

“After tonight, you’ll only have one night of free drinks, use it wisely,” Bucky said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I’ll have to find another way to have free drinks from you,” you joked.

He looked at you, “You can just ask, you know? You don’t have to blackmail me,” he smiled. 

You laughed for a moment and it became silent once again. It felt... awkward. You two were seated a couple of inches away from each other, the closest you two have been since you avoided each other, but you wanted to get away. You remembered the last time you were here, in this exact same spot. Drinking the alcohol of your choice, laughing with Bucky, talking about your high school selves. Many things have changed since then. It feels so weird and new to you, sitting next to someone you genuinely like, your friend. You took a deep breath and stopped thinking. 

“I like you, did you know that?” you said out of the blue making Bucky wonder if he was just imagining it and he was just hearing things. He stayed silent, deciding that it was just his mind saying that cause that was what he wanted to hear.

You turned to Bucky, waiting for his reaction. Nothing. “Buck?” he turned and looked at you as if he hadn’t heard you. “I like you,” you said once again only this time, it was louder and clearer. 

“You like me?” Bucky asked, finding it hard to believe for some reason. “Like, you like-like me?” You nodded, smiling at his creased eyebrows and slightly tilted face, like a confused puppy. You almost didn’t notice how your heart is beating quickly as if it wanted to jump out of your chest. It was taking Bucky too long to reply, and that made you anxious. All you wanted was to take it back and change what you said. You should’ve said “I’d really like to go back to being close friends” or maybe ask him why he avoided you or somethi--

“Did Wanton ask you to tell this to me?” he asked with an accusative tone. “No, why would I agree to that? Even if I did, I’d only agree to say something like that if I really meant it,” your voice getting louder every word.

“So it’s true? You like me? Romantic styles?” You nodded, slightly annoyed that he would think that you would play with his feelings. “Yes, it’s no big deal. I just wanted to tell you, I don’t expect you to like me back. I just- I want you to--”

"I like you too. Romantic styles," he said holding your hand. "That was why I set you up with Loki, why I avoided you after that and why I was avoiding you until you invited me to join you and Pietro. I kinda got a bit… slightly, sort of jealous so I agreed to go with you."

"Wait, hold on, you like me... and you... set me up with Loki? I don't get it"

"I like you and… That doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you’re happy, and I'll do anything to make you happy,” he said, offering you a small smile.

☆

"Then we kissed and… yeah,” you smiled at your friends’ faltered smiles.

Sam stood up, “Why was everything else so detailed and the kiss was just ‘then we kissed’? What’s that about?” He said, grabbing more food from the table. "And, I fucking told you so, Boinks!" 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Do you wanna hear how I kissed her softl-”

“Excuse me?” You said, raising your eyebrows at your boyfriend. “I kissed you, and it wasn’t soft”

“Y/N stop saying soft!” Peter shouted, covering his ears.

Wanda wiggled her eyebrows, "You didn't come home that night, hun."

"Yeah, I invited her to my place, we had some wine and we just talked for the rest of the night. Nothing happened. Okay? After talking we just slept. That's it,” Bucky defended.

Steve kept nodding his head, “Hence the Instagram story, mhmm, mhmm. Alright.”

“Whatever happened that night, I’m glad it did. And, I’m really really reallyyyyy happy for you, dumbasses,” Nat laughed.

Peter walked to you, “I’m happy for you too, sis. But please, don’t get detailed with… you know. I don’t need to know that.” You laughed, holding his hand. “And Bucky, if you ever hurt my sister, I’ll hunt you down and beat you up,” Peter looked at Bucky squinting his eyes, trying to look intimidating, which made Bucky laugh.

You looked at Bucky, “He’s serious. And very strong. He gave Steve bruises when they were boxing at the gym.” Bucky looked at Steve who was nodding.

“O-oh”

☆

taglist:

@intovert-gone-wild @jbb-bucky0310 @jessicakimba @mariachiii @essenceproxima @cazslaughter @eldahae @rororo06 @bonkyboinkybucky @a-hopeless-fan @danosaurushowell @hannibal-lecters-bitch @ceeellewrites @divainthesun @kseniiafirebrace @k-n-e @adriannajackson @connorhoez @fanfuckingtastic04 @cherthegoddess @captain-america5 @onlyjamesbuchananbarnes @writerwrites @lovinnholland @softboibarnes

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Home - Part 14

"Look all I'm saying is that people have been in and out of here all day. Maybe he just got in with one of the other guests" Bucky said i pulled out my bags and started throwing my clothes inside.

"Im not willing to take that chance Bucky!" I snapped "as long as I'm here I'm putting you and the girls in danger! You dont know what his capable of!" 

"You think I'm gonna let him close enough to hurt you and the girls??"

"He already got close enough! he took photo's of me in the shower!!! Christ he could've done more if he wanted to but his playing with us! Its all a game to him"

"One his not gonna win"

"His already winning dont you see that?" I cried covering my face with my hands.

"Baby i cant loose you!" Bucky said clearly panicking as he pulled me into his arms "dont let him win I'm begging you, you belong here with us"

"Your not gonna loose me Bucky" i mumbled into his chest as i wrapped my arms around him "I just think it'd be better if i go back to my place. Until Jack is caught, its safer for the girls if I'm not here"

"No!" He snapped leaning back to look at me.

"No?"

"Im not letting you go back there alone thats crazy! we'll be fine here....the girls will be fine. I'll check the house with Steve and Sam make sure his not here still.... i'll change the alarm codes.... the safest place for you and the girls is here with me"

"But...."

"No buts, your mine, he can't have you" he said pressing his lips to mine "I'll even get Steve to stay while we sort this out".

"Bucky if anything were to happen to those girls id never forgive myself"

"They will be fine babe"

"You really believe that?"

"I do. Id never put them at risk"

"Okay...."

Sleep was hard to come by that night, once i knew Bucky was asleep i carefully slipped out of bed and grabbed his sweater off the back of the chair before heading downstairs. I made a cup of coffee and went to sit on the sofa, my face turned towards my shoulder so i could inhale Bucky's calming scent off his sweater. My phone that was on the table next to my steaming mug of coffee started to vibrate.

"Unknown Number Calling" flashed on the front, i knew it was Jack.... who else would be calling me at 3am? I reached for the phone and hit the green button connecting the call.

"What?" I mumbled trying to keep the nerves i was feeling in check.

"Hey baby" he replied sounding smug as fuck, if i could guess id say he was smiling "you look tired.... you not sleeping properly?"

"What do you want Jack?" I sighed shaking my head, there was no way he could see me... all the curtains were closed so i knew he couldn't be lurking outside watching me.

"I told you already. I. Want. You."

"Too bad. You can't have me"

"Oh sweetheart you know thats not true"

"Jack your fucking delusional! There is no version of this that ends with us back together! Go find someone else, your good at that! In fact why dont you give Lucy a call? I'm sure she'd welcome your attention" i said referring to my ex best friend that he had cheated with.

"I told you i made a mistake with her. I was stupid i know that now.... but if you just give me another chance you'll see we're meant to be together"

"No! Jack i dont want anything to do with you!! if i never saw you again...that would be too soon!! please just leave me alone!"

"Never" he growled down the phone "if i can't have you no one can" he added before the line disconnected. Once i knew the call had ended i broke down, finally letting the tears fall.

"Y/N?..... sweetheart you okay?"

I looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway in black sweat pants, his hair a mess. As soon as he realised i was crying his rushed to my side gathering me in his arms and holding me tight.

"Whats wrong?"

"Jack.... hh...he just called me" i said holding onto Steve like my life depended on it.

"He what?! what did he say?"

"The same old shit his been saying, that he wants me back.....it was, it was what he said before he hung up" i looked up at Steve and took a deep breath "he said if he cant have me no one can. Steve, what if he goes after Bucky??"

"Bucky can handle himself darlin'..... im more concerned that he'll try and hurt you. If he knows you won't go back to him....."

"Oh my god......" i started to panic as i thought about Jack coming after me and that he might actually kill me...."that way no one gets me" i whispered.

"Hey, we wont let anything happen to you okay?"

"Im so tired Steve" i cried burying my face against his bare chest.

"Try and get some sleep sweetheart"

"I cant, what if his watching....."

"We checked the house, his not here"

"I know that but i can't switch off! I need to be awake incase.... i need to make sure the girls are safe"

"The girls are safe.... YOU are safe i promise" he said kissing the top of my head as his hand stroked up and down my back soothingly.

"Doll?" I heard Bucky's sleep ridden voice say as he walked into the living room "Steve?.... whats going on?"

"I came down for some water found her crying on the sofa, Jack called her" Steve told Bucky as he closed the gap between us, Steve instantly passing me into Bucky's arms.

"Take her back to bed Buck she needs to sleep"

"I cant....." i started to say with wide eyes.

"You can, i'll stay awake"

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart. Now go get some sleep"

"His right, come on" Bucky took my hand and started to lead the way back upstairs "we'll talk in the morning?" He turned to his friend with a concerned look on his face.

"Sure" Steve nodded at his best friend.

"Thank you Steve" i called over my shoulder, he was already switching on the TV to find something to watch while he kept watch for the night.

"No trouble at all sweetheart, goodnight"

"Goodnight" i smiled back.

I was laying in bed tangled in Bucky, his arms wrapped around me and our legs tangled together, my fingers gently stroking up and down his arm as my eyes wandered around the room, all sorts of things running through my mind. I felt his arms tighten around me and his face snuggle against my neck as he started to wake up.

"Morning beautiful" he said quietly pressing kisses behind my ear.

"Morning"

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Some" i nodded and shrugged a shoulder before turning to look at him. Bucky was so beautiful, i could look at him forever and never get tired of the sight. "I love you" i said trailing my fingers over his beard, a smile spread across his face instantly.

"I love you more"

"Sure you do" i rolled my eyes before giggling as he started to tickle my sides.

After finally dragging ourselves out of bed we went down for breakfast, Steve was already sat down with the girls, Rosie sitting in his lap.

"Morning" he looked up smiling as we walked in.

"Hey pal"

"Morning Stevie" i smiled before walking over to the coffee pot.

"You feeling better? Get some sleep?"

"Mmhmmm" i nodded before taking a seat next to Brooke.

"Really?"

"She got a couple of hours" Bucky added sitting across from me next to Allie.

"Good, Becca called earlier by the way, wanted to take the girls out for the day. She said you were okay with it, she asked at the party?"

"Oh yeah she did"

"I told her i'd drop them off on my way home, i need to go grab a change of clothes"

"That'd be great actually"

"Thats settled then. I was thinking, you should call Sam and report Jacks call last night.... they should have record of it"

"Yeah i thought so to" Bucky nodded taking a mouthful of his coffee.

Steve and the girls had left half hour ago and the house was eerily quiet without them around. Bucky had called Sam and told him all about the phone call i had received from Jack, Sam was going to look into it ASAP.

We had settled on the sofa to watch a movie and make the most of some alone time with no interruptions from the girls. It quickly led to a heated make out session and some good old fucking on the sofa.

"Your sofa is better for this by the way" Bucky chuckled as his naked ass squeaked on the leather making me cackle loudly.

"My sofa is definitely better for this" i agreed "We should probably get dressed before Steve comes back, i dont think he'd appreciate walking in to our naked asses on the sofa" i laughed against Bucky's chest.

"Yeah i guess so".

We reluctantly started to gather our clothes and get dressed, a cell phone ringing got our attention. We both started lifting various items of clothing looking for the phone.

"Its yours" i said handing Bucky his phone before pulling my sweater over my head.

"Barnes" he answered in his 'work voice' "your fucking kidding me..... no! Chloe that should have been done last week and filed already!" He moaned running a hand through his hair "he wont accept it until i sign it? Fuck sake!"

"Bucky if you need to go in i'll be okay" i said quietly so Chloe wouldn't hear me.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes" he snapped before hanging up the phone "I cant believe that girl sometimes! i told her to file this case a week ago! Now they need my signature...."

"Its fine Buck, Steve will be back soon anyway i wont be alone for long. I'll lock the door once you leave and set the alarm"

"You sure? You could come with me...."

"Id rather just stay here, i'll go have a bath and maybe try and get some more sleep now you've worn me out" i chuckled.

"Oh but now i wanna stay and join you!" He moaned leaning in to kiss me.

"I'll wait for you to get back for the bath then"

"I'll be quick!" he laughed jumping up getting his keys and heading out. I couldn't help but laugh at what a dork he could be at times. I watched him drive away waving through his open window then locked the door behind him once he was gone and set the alarm before heading back into the living room, i straightened up the sofa and made sure it was clean and tidying before making my way into the kitchen.

I was wiping the table over clearing up bits of cereal that the girls had spilt when my phone started ringing. I thought about ignoring it at first, i wasn't in the mood for another call from Jack! But then i thought it might be Bucky or Steve checking in so went back to the living room to get my phone.

I was a little surprised to see it was Sam calling me.

"Hey Sam, you looking for Buck cause his just had to go into work real quick"

"No, no I'm not looking for Buck, wait are you at home on your own right now?"

"Yeah, he'll be back within the hour, im fine the doors are locked and the alarm is set"

"Y/N i need you to stay calm and listen to me...... i need you to leave, just get out of that house" he said sounding panicked.

"What?.... why?" I felt my heart start to race.

"I traced that call, it came from within the house!!"

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[queenmylovely]

Okay but concept: being surprised when ben says he has a crush on you because hes Like That with all his friends (especially after a couple drinks) like youve lost count of the times hes kissed your cheek or hugged you for no reason and yeah it makes you go all gooey whenever he does it but that's just ben! he's an affectionate dude! Except then he admits its different with you and idk man im just real deep in my ben feels rn and oh that boy will be the death of me

Okay, Brigid how dare you send this to me right when I was going to get ready for bed, bitch? Jk, i love it and ily and mayhaps was inspired to write a quick blurb about it. 

Yeah, I wrote that before actually writing this and it’s 1.7k so it’s going below the cut. No warnings but fluff and awkwardness and cussing lol 

Masterlist

☆☆☆

You could still smell the intoxicating mix of cologne, scotch, and cigarettes and feel the ghost of warm arms wrapped around your body when someone’s voice pulled you from your haze.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lucy said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Huh? What?” you asked confusedly after batting her hand away.

“Well I was trying to have a conversation with my friend, until Ben came up to hug you and so rudely interrupted me. Then you turned all mushy ‘cause you’re in love with him,” she said dryly.

“Wh- I- I am not in love with him,” you sputtered out, having made the mistake of taking a sip of your drink as she spoke.

“You’re in love with him, you think he’s cute, same difference,” she replied and you were about to protest when she kept talking. “I don’t know why the two of you don’t get together, or at least fuck.”

“Oh my- because we don’t have feelings for each other that’s why,” you reasoned and she gave you a withering look. “…Well he doesn’t have feelings for me, is that a good enough reason for you?”

Lucy laughed, actually laughed at your question and you frowned in confusion. “Are you kidding me? You don’t think that that man- Ben- has feelings for you? How do you explain his touchiness and lingering hugs and kisses on the cheek?”

You shook your head at her and explained, “Ben’s just a flirty person. He’s like that with everyone, especially when he’s tipsy.”

“Bullshit. He doesn’t hug me like that, with his hands wrapped tight around you, squeezing your waist, and practically running a hand through your hair. And he only kisses my cheek and just barely when we say hello and goodbye. He kisses you for no reason all the time,” she countered, her gaze set evenly with yours.

You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, trying to find a response even as Lucy’s description of what your and Ben’s hugs looked like made you feel warmer than usual. Then you said lamely, “That’s just because you have Rami. He’s not going to be the same with someone who’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep talking this shit, at least go get me a refill,” Lucy said, holding her empty glass up to you.

You rolled your eyes but smiled and grumbled out, “Fine,” before grabbing her glass and heading to the bar.

The bar was a much louder scene than the one the two of you were in at your little high-chaired table for two. There were people shouting at one another in conversation, clearly too drunk to realize they weren’t using the correct volume. Many were clamoring for the bartender’s attention to order more drinks and you cringed at the thought of heading into the fray. Lucky for you, you spotted four of your friends in a little group and walked up to them, catching them at the end of a conversation.

“Just do it, you coward,” Joe laughed before taking a shot and you saw all the other three down theirs as well. His comment had been directed towards Ben, and you assumed it had been about taking the shot. Since you had walked up behind him, you couldn’t tell what he had thought of the shot he didn’t want to slam.

“Hiya guys,” you said cheerfully, and three sets of eyes moved to you in synch. Joe, Rami, and Gwil’s faces cracked into smiles as they started laughing for some reason, just as Ben whipped around to face you.

Ben’s face immediately flushed, a side effect of the alcohol you mused, and he cracked an uneasy smile of his own.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice unusually high, but he still pulled you closer for a quick peck on the cheek as if he couldn’t help himself, and you felt heat spread from the point of contact across your entire face. Hopefully it wasn’t too noticeable.

“Whatcha up to?” Joe asked you goofily, nodding to the one practically full and one completely empty glass in your hands.

“Oh, I was sent to get a refill for Lucy. Apparently our topic of conversation requires some libation,” you joked, careful not to reveal anything specific.

“I can handle that, why don’t you stay and chat for a second?” Rami told you, grabbing the glass from your hand and walking up to the bar, somehow finding the one empty spot and getting the bartender’s attention right away.

“You know, I was just thinking I wanted to put a song on the jukebox. Help me find a good one, Joe?” Gwil asked, Joe nodded, and as they walked away together you saw them giggling and stealing glances back.

“Okay…” you said, taking one of their empty chairs to face Ben. You were about to make a comment about everyone’s strange behavior when you looked at Ben. His face was still flushed, and he kept glancing between you and his hands.

You reached out and placed a hand on his knee gently, “Ben, you alright?”

His knee tensed at your contact, and he looked at your hand apprehensively, so you started to move it away, self-conscious at having initiated the contact, but before you could completely, Ben grabbed your hand.

Looking up at him as you felt the warmth from his hand spreading up your arm and through your entire body, you waited for him to speak.

“Actually, can I talk to you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course, you can talk to me about anything,” you nodded, a little worried from his tone that something was wrong.

“…Do you wanna go outside for a bit? I can hardly hear my own voice in here,” Ben suggested and you agreed, following his lead out the door.

As soon as you stepped outside, you were hit with the temperature change. The bar had been hot and almost sweaty with all the people, but outside the air was freezing. You shivered, and rubbed your hands on your upper arms, hoping the friction would keep you warm.

“Oh fuck, I forgot how cold it is out here,” Ben said, after he turned back to you and saw your shivering form. He took off his overcoat and had you turn around, helping you to pull it on over your cute, but definitely too thin for the weather, sweater.

You turned back around, smiling at him for the friendly gesture. He smiled back at you, a dreamy look in his eyes at seeing you wrapped up in his too-big-for-you coat. The warm feeling it gave him distracted him from why the two of you had come outside.

“So…” you prompted, wondering yourself what you were doing out in the cold.

“Right, I’m supposed to be talking to you,” Ben said, shaking his head clear from those thoughts. “Basically, um, I just wanted to tell you– well, the boys told me to tell you– not that it’s not true or anything, I’m just kinda a coward and not good at this stuff– and I do want to tell you– I guess I think I’m trying to give hints or something, but, um, they told me that’s not enough and that I should just get over it and– I mean I’m just kind of nervous and I don’t, um, want to, uh, make anything weird– well, I’m–”

“Ben,” you said, interrupting his rambling lest he go on and on until the two of you froze. “Take a breath. I promise, whatever you’re trying to tell me will be alright,” you told him, trying to be a supportive friend through whatever seemingly troublesome thing he was trying to tell you.

He took your advice and breathed in and out in time with the guidance of your hands a couple times before he seemed ready. “Okay. What I’m trying to tell you is that I really really like you and have feelings for you, romantically. And I guess I’m hoping you feel the same way.”

You stared at Ben in shock, not moving except to blink a couple times in confusion. As you remained silent, Ben started getting a slightly panicked look on his face and lifted a hand to cover it slightly.

“Aw, fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything, now the whole group’s dynamic is going to be off–”

“Wait, Ben are you serious? Like, you’re for real?” you ask, interrupting him again and making him drop his hand to look at you.

“Serious about liking you? Yeah I’m serious about that,” he said a little sheepishly, dropping his gaze from yours.

“Like 100%, heart attack serious?” you repeated, the meaning of his words finally breaking through your shock.

“Yes, 100% heart attack serious, do we really need to drive this point furth– are you laughing?” now it was his turn to be confused and he looked back up to see you smiling and giggling. Even in his confused state he couldn’t help but return your beautifully contagious smile, “Why are you laughing?”

“Because, Ben, I’ve liked you for months, and Lucy just told me, like ten minutes ago, that you like me and I didn’t believe her,” you explained, taking a step closer to him, still smiling.

“She did? How’d she know? Did the boys tell her?” he asked you, skipping over the part where you said you liked him too.

“No, she said it was obvious with all the hugs and cheek kisses and stuff, but I didn’t believe her,” you admitted, taking another step closer.

“You didn’t?”

“No, I mean, you’re a pretty flirty drunk, Ben. Always giving and receiving those cheek kisses like no one’s business,” you said cheekily, taking one more step. “Then again, maybe I just notice it happening with everyone else because I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?” he asked, his voice higher again as you were now just one step away from being pressed up against him.

“Mhm,” you nodded, and you moved your forearms to rest on his chest, keeping one hand there but running a finger from the other hand along his cheek and jaw to his chin. Then you brushed the pad of your thumb ever so lightly along his parted lower lip. “Yeah I think I was just jealous because I wanted all of that attention, your lips on me, and my lips on you, and no one else’s anywhere.”

Ben’s hands found their way to your waist and he said, practically breathlessly, as he stared into your eyes, “That’s- that’s what I want too.”

“Yeah?” you asked, glancing between his eyes and lips and he moved closer and closer.

“Yeah,” he breathed over your lips, just before connecting his mouth to yours.

★★★ 

I’m also tagging because it’s practically oneshot length: @riseetothesun @caborhapch @drowseoftaylor @queenlover05

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Traditions

*Not My Gif*

Post Date: 12-23-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3K

A/N: Christmas Requests open until New Years!

~Master~

~Marvel Master~

You and Peter had been friends since you were born and now all these years later, you’ve never been closer. You spent every holiday together, and that’s why when the night of December 23rd rolled around and Peter and you were at your favorite cafe, your heart shattered when he was telling you he had to leave on a mission for a few days.

“But... what about our traditions? Watching cheesy Christmas movies on the couch and drinking so much hot cocoa we fall asleep? Decorating my apartment on Christmas Eve? Aunt May taking so many pictures she runs out of storage on her camera?” You tried to hold back the hurt in your voice as you looked at him.

Peter felt awful. He knew how much the traditions meant to the both of you. Skipping them was the worst thing he could do. “We can always do it when I get back.” He suggested, knowing it wasn’t the same. You appreciated the effort and nodded, grabbing his hand and holding it.

“Deal.” Peters face brightened a little as you smiled at him. He pulled you in for a hug, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as you blushed, wrapping your arms around his waists “Flash is having a party on Christmas Eve anyways, maybe I can convince Ned and MJ to come with me.” You said as you separated, looking up to see the two in question walking into the cafe to meet you.

You tried to plaster a smile on your face threw out the night but MJ knew something was up. It was nearing midnight when you all finally went your separate ways, Ned and Peter heading one way while you and MJ went another.

“Ok, spill.” You were barely around the corner before MJ spoke, making you shoot her a raised brow.

“Spill what?”

“Why were you so...” she gestured to your face, looking you up and down, “not you?”

“Wow, thanks MJ.” You joked and rolled your eyes but MJ just nudged you, moving along down the sidewalk.

“I’m serious. You barely even looked at Peter, even when he was staring at all lovesick.” MJ taunts made you blush as she poked you in your side, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Stooopp!” You laughed, hiding the blush on your face. “Peter and I have been friends forever, okay? Nothings going to change, no matter how much I want it too.” You muttered the last part, pulling on your scarf to his your sad smile. MJ put her hands up in surrender, her lips upturned as she watched you out of the corner of her eye. “Peter’s leaving on a mission first thing in the morning. He’s gonna be gone past Christmas.”

MJ didn’t saw anything, just turning to you with shock. “But what about your traditions?” You nodded your head and shrugged, continuing on the sidewalk as your apartment came into view.

“We’ll do it when he gets back.” MJ sighed, shaking her head as she glanced back to where you left the boys.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know how much it means to you.” You told her you were fine but MJ saw right through you, giving you a hug as she whispers in your ear. “You know you’re the most important thing to him right? Not Spider-Man, Not Ned or I, Not even Tony Stark meant as much to Peter as you do.”

You let out a little laugh, squeezing MJ tighter. “If I meant so much to him then why was ditching me so easy?” MJ didn’t have any other excuse besides saying Peter was dumb.

You told her goodbye, heading up to your apartment. The faint sound of Christmas carols echoed in the halls as you slumped against the wall, leaning your head onto the greasy ripped wallpaper.

They started singing your favorite christmas carol, the one Peter and you would always listen too while you decorated. Peter would always sing completely off key, making you laugh as he danced around the tree. Even though his singing voice was great, it always made everything better when he got you to laugh. The memory made you smile, tearing up as you ran your hand under your eye, wiping away any tears that fell as you shoved your key into the hole, pushing your door open to reveal the dark apartment behind it.

“I guess I should decorate you myself.” You spoke into the quietness, knowing that no one was gonna answer. The door closed behind you as you tossed your bag next to it, slapping the lights on. For some reason you thought Peter would’ve been on the couch, lounging in a pair of sweats as he chugged his third mug of cocoa. But he wasn’t.

Your phone read a little past midnight by the time you showered, putting yourself in your pajamas before walking out into the living area. The fake tree you had was resting on the ground, a few boxes of old ornaments laying next to it as you sighed, falling on the couch and turning on the TV. The screen lit up the room as you found yourself falling asleep to the voices of a Charlie Brown Christmas without decorating at all.

Peter sat on the jet the next day, tired from being in the air half the day and from his sleepless night which was locked in his brain as he stared down at his phone. Every few minutes someone would text him or email him or he’d just get some sort of notification and his screen would light up.

“Waiting for someone to text?” Sam asked as he moved to sit next to Peter, making the boy slightly confused before he stuttered, shaking his head. Peter didn’t say anything before his screen lit up again and some email appeared and Peter cleared it, the background of his phone pulling both of their attention and Sam realized what was going on. “Y/N.”

Peter looked embarrassed but nodded his head, staring at the picture more.

It was of you, taken last year at Christmas. You were putting the star on the tree, your tongue sticking out as you concentrated on not pushing the tree over. Peter couldn’t help but be entranced with how beautiful you looked at the moment and needed to snap a picture.

When his phone turned off he sighed, leaning back in his seat to rest of the side of the jet. “She’s been my rock since we were born, the one person I could do anything with and have fun no matter what.”

“So why the long face?”

“I left her on Christmas Eve. We spend every holiday together our way, you know, our own traditions. It’s just leaving her, I just feel... awful.” His voice was a whisper as Sam watched him, knowing that you meant more to Peter than he’s letting on.

Sam smirked, crossing his arms. “How long have you two been a couple?”

Peters eyes lit up and he almost dropped his phone as he spun to face Sam completely, shaking his head as fast as he could. “Oh no! N-no- no, it’s not- it’s not like that- we aren’t-“

Sam cut him off with a laugh as he patted the boys back, making Peter blush uncontrollably. “Sure it’s not, kid.” Sam stood up, leaving Peter thinking about you. Peter rested his head in his hands, trying to get some sleep before his phone buzzed and he pulled it out to reveal a text from MJ.

We need to talk about you and Y/N.

You spent a majority of the day doing some last minute Christmas chores: making some cookies for the neighbors, wrapping a few extra presents, and getting ready for Flash’s party. You couldn’t help but lose your happiness every time you walked past the empty tree, or the TV screen playing anything BUT Christmas movies.

MJ came by around 6, Ned stopping by soon after as you all made your way to Flash’s house. It was bigger than you imagined, all decked out with Christmas everywhere.

“You made it!” Flash yelled from behind you as the three of you spun around, his Christmas sweater drawing your attention right away as he staggered over to you. “Where’s Penis Parker?” He asked and looked past you all.

You rolled your eyes at the boy, your lips pursuing as you crossed your arms. “His name’s Peter and he’s busy tonight.” MJ and Ned shared a look behind you as Flash left. “Come on, let’s get something to drink.” You led them to a table not far from the entrance. Where you’d typically find a bowl of punch Flash had Eggnog and Christmas cookies. You laughed, biting into one of the cookies and grabbing another to hand to Peter. You froze, your hand hovering over the plate as you remember Peter wasn’t there. Your friends watched your attitude shift, your face down casted as you looked at them.

“I think Im gonna head out.” You said as Ned’s eyes widened.

“NO!” He yelled, gaining the attention of a few people around you as you furrowed your brow. MJ rolled her eyes, smacking him in the arm with her purse as you jumped. “Oww!” MJ glared at him, signaling over to you as you crossed your arms, eyes darting between your friends.

“Ok, is someone going to let me in?” They both scowled at each other, eyes narrowing before they both turned to you with fake smiles. You were taken back, bumping into the table behind you in surprise.

“We just meant, you don’t want to spend Christmas Eve alone, right Ned?” MJ asked, locking her elbow with yours and leading you out into the middle of the room as Ned took your other room.

“Absolutely!” He shouted, again much louder than he needed. You had no idea what was going on between them but you ignored it, letting them distract you.

A few hours later, you were still moping quite a bit, watching your friends dance sing badly to any type of song they played. You appreciated their efforts but it wasn’t completely working.

“Hey guys?” You yelled over the music, making them both come over. “Thanks for all this, but I really am going home. I think I’m just going watch some movies and head to bed.” You bit the inside of your cheek, taking a deep breath as MJ pulled out her phone and Ned took a step forward to hide her.

“Well, I can watch movies with you.” Ned offered as you gave him a small smile, putting your hand on his arm.

“Thanks Ned, but it’s not the same. Peter and I have been doing this for as long as I can remember. It’s just not Christmas without him.” He nodded sadly, taking a glance at MJ who, unknown to you, gave him a thumbs up.

“It’s okay Y/N.” She said, pulling you into a hug. “Call you tomorrow, okay?” You nodded, wishing them a Merry Christmas before heading out the door. Ned’s mom had driven you all there, but you weren’t far from your apartment as you took a walk in the dark.

You marveled at the Christmas lights adorning houses and a few different buildings. There were bright shining lights decorating the streets as you shivered, pulling on your gloves and scarf and made on your way. It was all so beautiful, a light fall of snow coming down as you looked up, wishing more than ever Peter was right next to you to enjoy it.

You finally reached your apartment building, passing a few different decorated doors before sweet music filled your ears much like yesterday. You couldn’t hear what was playing as it was muffled behind a door, but what alarmed you was it was your door. You didn’t remember leaving any music on.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, pulling out your keys and your phone to call someone. It didn’t look like someone broke in and the door was still locked so you carefully opened it, gasping and dropping both your keys and phone on the floor.

Your once empty and dark apartment was lit up, strings of Christmas lights covering the walls and windows. The tree was placed in the center of the room, fully decorated and lighting the room up as you stepped inside. The music continued to play, the soft tune of Silent Night playing through your speakers.

Someone was in here? Someone did all this? For you?

“Hello?!” You yelled, waiting for any response. Not a second later someone came out of your bedroom. You couldn’t tell who it was at first as you gasped for your phone, forgetting you dropped it and cursed at yourself. Then his shaggy chocolate brown hair came into your view. “Peter?”

His smile brought you back into reality and you ran into his arms, letting him pick you up and wrap your legs around his body. “I made it back.” He mumbled into your shoulder and squeezed you tighter in his arms. You let out a soft laugh, letting him put you down.

“Yeah, I see that! But why? I-I thought you had a mission.” He shrugged, pushing a fallen strand of hair out of your face.

“I did, but you’re more important.” You had to keep yourself from swooning right there as you stared up at him, barely lit by the strand of red lights next to his head.

“Peter...” You whispered as he just chuckled, grabbing your hands with his.

“I got you something.” He let go of your hands, much to your displeasure and headed towards the tree. He knelt on the ground before looking over his shoulder at you. “Close your eyes.” You gave him a goofy smile but let your eyes close.

Peter reached under the tree, grabbing the small black box under it before standing up and looking at you. You looked so beautiful, your face was relaxed and your smile made his knees weak. He fought back the urge to kiss you right then and there.

You heard Peter scurry on the floor and then stand up, but after that you couldn’t hear him move at all. If it was anyone else you would’ve been a little reluctant to have your eyes that long, but not with him. Never with Peter. “Okay, open your eyes.” He whispered as your eyes fluttered open, catching his almost instantly. You both stayed there, gazing into each other’s eyes as the rest of the world just faded out of existence. Peter went to grab your hand but the box got in the way and he finally snapped back into reality, knocking you back as well.

“Uh, here. I got this for you.” He put the small box in your hand as you looked at it. He urged you to open it and with one final glance up at Peter, you slipped the bow off and pulled the top off.

It was beautiful. A gold heart pendent with Peter and your name in the center, written in the most elegant writing you’ve ever seen. It was at that moment you knew Peter meant more to you than anyone could’ve.

Peter saw you speechless, hoping it was a good speechless as you looked up with watery eyes. “Merry Christm-“

“I’m in love with you.” Your words were so rushed out you questioned if Peter had even heard you until his mouth turned into a smile and he laughed. He was laughing at you? All your self pride deflated as you adverted your eyes and cleared your throat. Peter, the poor boy, caught onto your actions and was quick to shut them down.

“Y/N, just look on the back.” He told you as you listened, giving him a small nod. You took a deep breath and flipped the necklace over.

I love you.

You wanted to cry when you saw it. There on the back of a heart necklace with your names, was Peters handwriting professing his love. And it was the best Christmas present you’ve ever gotten. Peter cupped your chin, pulling your face up to look at his as he wiped the fallen tear from your cheek.

“I’m in love with you too.” He whispered seconds before kissing you. On second thought, that was the best present you have ever gotten. His nose brushed yours as you separated, both of you smiling brighter than you ever had before. “So, there’s still an hour or two left of Christmas Eve. Want to watch a movie? And make some hot cocoa?” He asked as you giggled, nodding your head yes.

Peter took your hand, letting you to the kitchen as you turned on the TV, putting on both of your favorite Christmas movie as Peter walked in the room with two steaming mugs.

He sat on the couch, pulling you down next to him as he adjusted, making you lean up against his chest.

“Thank you for coming back, Peter.” You whispered, kissing his now blushing cheek.

“Don’t thank me, Thank Ned and MJ. They’re the ones who distracted you for a few hours.” You made a mental note to thank them for their odd behavior before snuggling into Peter more, watching as the movie started.

Peter looked down at you curled up on his chest, clutching the pendent in your hands as he took it from you. You let out a small whine as you didn’t let go until Peter assured you he was only going to put it on you. His fingers traced the back of your neck as he put it on you, send shivers down your spine from the cool metal.

The moment it was clasped on you took your spot again, wrapping your arms around his torso and pushed yourself into him. Peter knew as he heard you laugh at the screen that he made the right choice in coming back for your traditions.

Coming back for you.

Feedback! Christmas Requests?

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[unpack-my-heart]

Above, Beneath, Betwixt, Between - Chapter 9

@tinyarmedtrex​ @violetreddie​ @eds-trashmouth​ @constantreaderfool​ @xandertheundead​ @moonlightrichie​ @deadlighten​ @appojoos​ @annoyingtozier​ @burymestanding​

Read on AO3 HERE

The kiss changes both everything and nothing at all. The everything that changes, the hands that reach for each other in the hushed dawn, the eyes that lock over morning cereal, the afternoon laughs that melt into each other, the evening caresses on smalls of backs, is painfully overshadowed by the nothing. This nothing looms over their every moment, stolen moments shared together in ecstasy, rapturous but constantly aware of the behemoth that sits in the corner of the room and spits at them.

Richie’s leaving. A fact as constant, as reliable, as the autumn wind.

If Eddie hadn’t hung onto Richie’s forearm with a vice-grip as Richie welcomed the estate agent into the house, if Eddie hadn’t sat on the porch, face schooled into careful apathy as the estate agent took photos of the now finished cottage, if Eddie hadn’t sobbed with wild abandon into the frigid midnight air, great wracking moans that heaved Richie’s heart out of his chest with ghostly arms, Richie wouldn’t have guessed anything was going to change. But everything was going to change. Everything, and nothing at all.

It takes three weeks for Richie to book his flights. He opens and closes the page, getting as far as typing Edinburgh International to LAX into the search bar, but without fail, his hands shake violently and the laptop slides off his lap with a satisfying thud. Eventually, with a belly full of Dutch courage and Eddie squeezing his hand, he manages it. His flight leaves in a month.

The house sells easily. A young couple buys it, and they visit three times before putting the offer in. The man brays about the way the light floods into the study in the morning, and the woman squeals about the terrace balcony on the second bedroom. Richie accepts the offer, despite the fact it’s five grand under the asking price.

One week later and the For Sale sign is replaced by a bright red beacon, SOLD. More times than he’d ever admit, Richie catches Eddie staring at the sign with malice in his eyes. Richie always makes sure that he looks away before Eddie can catch him staring.

Two weeks, and they’ve hit the half way point. They’re still sleeping in separate rooms. Eddie had packed all of his possessions into boxes the day after Richie had booked his plane ticket. Richie only lasted six minutes of watching Eddie carefully fold his jumpers and his socks and those fucking tartan pyjamas before he had to excuse himself to wail violently in the bathroom. He’d given himself three minutes, before wiping his eyes furiously with a balled up piece of toilet paper, and emerging from the bathroom with a watery smile and tired eyes. But, as soon as he caught sight of Eddie sat on the bed, one of Richie’s old fleeces clutched in his hands, his attempts at self-preservation proved futile. They’d collapsed in a heap on the bed, a mass of shaking limbs, clutching, scrabbling hands and hushed confessions. I adore you, I adore you, I adore you.

Three weeks. They’d spent the last days in bed, moving for nothing but sprints to the toilet and visits to the kitchen. They don’t fuck. Richie surprises himself with the realisation that he doesn’t want to fuck Eddie. Not yet. He can’t bear the thought of their first time being a goodbye fuck, a ‘I’m sorry I’m leaving you’ fuck, a ‘you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m still going to leave you anyway’ fuck. So they don’t. They lie together, they touch often and kiss sometimes. Eddie drags his nails down Richie’s arm absently, a soft scratchy feeling, as if to remind Richie that he’s still here, if only for now. Richie spends most of his time running his hands through Eddie’s hair, hair that was once immortalised in a plastic-perfect quiff but now stands on end, wild and free. They talk, regale each other with animated stories from their past. Richie tells Eddie of Bev, of Bill and Ben and the time they all got drunk and swam in the water feature of their college, he tells Eddie about his mother, about the time she took him apple picking when he was seven. Eddie tells Richie about his mother, a long, painful tale that ends in sorrow, but he also tells Richie about Rupert, and how they’d met and how the sky caught fire the first time they’d kissed. Richie had expected jealousy to bloom in his stomach, hot and bitter, but it didn’t.

“What’s America like?” Eddie asks on a Wednesday afternoon.

Richie tightens his grip around Eddie’s waist. “It’s … pretty fuckin’ shit most of the time, corrupt politicians and gun crime and hatred and bigotry but …”

“But what?”

“My parents lives there, and … it’s home, it’s shitty, but it’s home. Well, it was home, I guess”

“Was home? Why? What changed?”

“You gonna make me spell it out for you, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“You know I am,” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes coquettishly. Richie rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a little shite, you know”

“That sounded pretty Scottish”

“Mike’s been rubbing off on me”

“I should jolly well hope he hasn’t been rubbing off on you,” Eddie said with a faux-stern expression that was so ridiculously, so absurdly Eddie that Richie couldn’t take it anymore.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Eddie, you know – I … You know that I really …”

“What? C’mon Rich, spit it out”

“I …”

“Richie”

“I really think we should mow the lawn tomorrow afternoon”

“…Oh”

– X –

Richie loved Eddie. It was a fact as clear as ice, as real as snow, as blatantly obvious as the nose on his face. The “I adore you’s” flowed easily, the “you’re my entire world and more” came naturally, but the admission of love, the wrenching his chest open, displaying his heart, that was different.  Telling Jasmine he loved her had been easy, partly because he’d never meant it. Endless false confessions. Perhaps it was cruel. Regret wasn’t something that Richie was used to.

“I’m going to stay with Mike”

“Huh?”

Eddie slumped down onto the sofa next to Richie, and tucked his head neatly into the junction between Richie’s neck and shoulder.

“I’ve asked him, and he said I could stay with him until you … if you … y’know. Until then”

“You know I’m coming back, right? I’m going to come back for you”

“I know you want to”

“Eddie,” Richie implored, shifting on the sofa until he was looking directly into Eddie’s eyes, “you’ve got to believe me, I’m going to come back for you”

“I believe you’re going to try”

Richie grabbed Eddie’s hands. “Eddie, please”

“Mike said I can take Mr Chips out anytime I like, I might bring him around here, check up on the house sometimes”

“Don’t change the subject”

“I hope they don’t change the house too much, I’d be ever so sad if I came back and it looked different, if it looked –”

“Eddie!”

Eddie closed his eyes, pulling away from Richie slightly.

“If you promise you’re coming back to me, it makes it too hard. I’ll just sit and wait, and I can’t … I can’t do that”

“I told you, I’m coming –”

“Don’t,” Eddie said, eyes still closed, “stop it. Just – tell me you’ll try and that’ll be enough”

“I’ll try”

– X –

Mike calls it a practice run. A trial run, he’d said, seeing as the last time Eddie stayed with him ended in a sleepless night for all three of them. Eddie’s reticent at first, initially refusing on the grounds of being patronised, but initially relenting after Richie pleaded with him that it probably was a good idea, if not for Eddie then for himself. Slowly, like melting ice, Eddie agrees. They bundle themselves into Richie’s car, the same car that Richie will return to the dealer the morning he leaves, and drive to Mike’s.

Mike’s house is warm, almost uncomfortably so, and Richie watches as Eddie peels his sweater over his head, face flushed red.

“Thanks for this, Mike. You’re a good friend”

“What about me?”

A familiar voice echoed from the kitchen.

“What the fucking fuck? Stan?!”

“Such a lovely greeting, Richard. Ever the pleasure to see you,” Stan said, sardonically, as he passed Mike a small tumbler of honey-coloured liquid.

“I thought you’d flown back to Ireland?”

“I did. I came back, though. I’ve grown rather fond of Scotland, and the things that live in Scotland”

Mike’s face flushed scarlet, and Richie hooted with joy.

“Well, well, well! The plumber and the wizard, a true storybook romance”

“Richard, do shut up. How are you feeling, Eddie? Mike tells me you’ll be staying with us for a while,” Stan said, turning to face a rather down-trodden looking Eddie.

“I – I was, but if you’re staying here too, I don’t want to … I don’t want to impose, you know”

“Shush, you’re more than welcome here. Has Richie told you about Skype?”

“Skype?”

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie. “Have you really not told him about Skype? Isn’t that what all the long-distance lovers are doing these days? Skype sex?”

Richie slapped a hand over Stan’s mouth, but got bitten for his efforts.

“Take your damn hoof off my mouth, Richie! All I’m trying to do is help you in your long sexless months ahead”

“We haven’t … um … we haven’t done that, not yet” Eddie stammered, face letter-box red.

“You haven’t? Huh. Well, Skype does serve purposes other than getting you virtually laid, I suppose. Do you still want me to show you what it is?”

Eddie nodded wordlessly, and followed Stan into Mike’s office leaving Richie and Mike standing in the living room.

“Ah take it ye told ‘im then?”

“Whatever do you mean, Michael?”

“Ye know exactly wha’ ah mean,” Mike said, passing Richie his own tumbler of whiskey before going to pour himself another. “Ye know exactly what I mean. The fact ye didn’t balk when Stan mentioned you two fuckin’? That’s how ah know ye know what ah mean”

Richie slumped into the cushiony arm chair, folding his limbs awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess I told him”

“It went well though, aye?”

“Sort of. I mean, he feels the same and … I know he knows that I adore him, but how well could it possibly go when I’m leaving him the day after tomorrow to fly back home to a country I no longer consider my home?”

Mike sipped his whiskey coolly, “ah see”

Richie sighed. He could hear Eddie’s voice floating through the house from the office, Stan’s voice chasing it.

“If ya don’t come back, if ya decide to stay in America, yer gonna have to tell him yerself. Ah won’t do it for ya”

“I am coming back,” Richie spat, but Mike just shook his head.

“Ah know ya think ya are, but be realistic, Rich. It’s a big commitment to make to someone ye’v only been involved with for a few weeks”

“That’s … that doesn’t even make sense, I’ve … I’ve loved Eddie for longer than a few fuckin’ weeks, Mikey, you know that”

“Aye. I do, but does he?”

“…Yes. He must know, I tell him all the time how much I adore him”

“Aye, I’m sure ya do. But does he know ya love him? It’s different,” Mike said, simply.

“I haven’t … managed to say those words yet. Not exactly, but he knows. He must know”

– X –

“Hiya, Eds”

“Hello, love”

Richie’s heart swells.

“This is weird”

“I know”

Silence falls around them. Eddie’s face, pixelated and two-dimensional on Richie’s screen, looks small and distant, and Richie’s fingers itch with the desire to reach out and stroke Eddie’s cheek. He does just that, but instead of flesh, warm and soft, the pads of his fingers meet glass, unmoving, cold.

“How are you?”

“I saw you less than three hours ago, Rich”

“I know, but a lot can change in three hours. Have Mike and Stan convinced you to have a threesome with them, yet?” Richie asks, cringing immediately as the words leave his mouth, but Eddie just laughs.

“Not yet, but hey, you never know, loneliness does strange things to a boy”

“Do you think you’re going to be lonely?” Richie asks, and now it’s serious. The smile slips off Eddie’s face like butter.

Eddie shrugs, a tiny movement Richie can barely see. “I guess. Probably”

“We’ll skype every day right? I’ll ring you twice a day, if I have to. We’ll talk all the damn time. Ask Mike to get you a phone, we can text, we can –”

“Rich,” Eddie interrupts, “it’s going to be okay. You don’t have to talk to me every waking second of every day. I’m going to be fine”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Richie mutters, but thankfully, Eddie doesn’t hear him.

They talk for hours, until Richie’s eyes start to droop, weighed down with leaden tiredness, and the pauses between their conversation grow longer and longer until they’ve drifted in and out of sleep in comfortable silence for over an hour. The last thing that Richie mutters to the slumbering Eddie are those words he can’t bring himself to say when Eddie’s awake.

[maandags]

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon!reader) {part iv}

i have no excuse for the wait except that im an idiot who took this school year too lightly yeet

-- -- --

Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Genre: angst. because whats new

Word count: 8.7K

Notes: CW: graphic violence/blood, emotional manipulation - masterlist - {previous} -- {next }

-- -- --

if heaven's grief brings hell's rain

then i’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday

~ Just One Yesterday, Fall Out Boy

-- -- --

You wake up from a deep, dreamless sleep, disoriented and shivering despite the multiple layers you have on and thick comforter stacked upon you. It takes a moment before the events of the previous night rush back into your mind and cloud your thoughts, and you throw an arm over your face, inhaling deeply.

A huge weight has fallen off your shoulders. Last night, you didn't realise as much, your tired 3 A.M. mind already struggling to focus with the fact that Keith--who had been deathly sick only hours before--was up and about and sitting at your kitchen table and eating chinese takeout. But now that you had the quiet of the early morning to yourself you could feel the knots in your shoulders loosen and the lead seep out of your limbs.

You slowly shift your legs out of bed, still slightly dazed. Sunlight peeks out through the cracks in the shutters covering your window, and you cast a look at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand. It's barely 7 A.M. And it's also a Saturday. While that doesn't matter much in terms of noise–a city is a city, after all, and this one certainly is never quiet–your neighbours' kids aren't allowed out of bed before nine on Saturdays, which gives you at least two small hours of peace and quiet.

You stagger to the bathroom and let the hot shower water beat down your stiff muscles, trying to draw out the permanent chill that seems to have settled deep into your bones. It works a little bit, but when you get out of the steamy little cell and wrap a towel around your torso you can feel it trickle back into the pit of your stomach, like an icy worm that's decided to make your body its home. It's more of a discomfort than a true pain, though, so you decide to ignore it.

Your hair is still damp when you pull an extra thick sweater over your head, stick your feet in warm socks and tiptoe your way over to the living room.

Keith is still asleep. You don't blame him–he's still recovering, even though he already looks so much better than the previous night. The colour is back in his cheeks. The dark circles and the hollowness under his eyes have started to fade away. He's still thin, and he doesn't smell too good, but you decide against waking him just yet.

In the kitchen, you put on the kettle and pull open the fridge in search of something to eat. The unfinished boxes of chinese sit in front, half-open from when you hastily stowed them away. You pull one out, sniff it, then shrug as you grab for a spoon.

The kitchen windowsill is probably not the spot a lot of people would pick to lounge on, an early Saturday morning. But you've always liked to watch the sun rise over the tall buildings, and the soft orange glow you're treated with today is worth waking up so early for. You rest your face on the knee you've pulled up beside you as you shovel another spoonful of rice into your mouth.

The orange slowly fades out into yellow, then into blue. It's soothing to watch, and you find yourself slow your breathing and close your eyes as the city wakes up beneath you. Noises of starting cars and motorbikes drift up to your window, and chattering fills the street. People exit their homes, throwing delightful glances up at the sunny sky; unexpected after the heavy rain of the previous night.

You finish your takeout, do some chores around the house. Change your bedsheets. Prepare a change of clothes for when Keith finally wakes up. Open the windows to let in some fresh air. Prepare a cup of tea and claim back your spot on the windowsill. It's a peaceful morning, and the air doesn't feel quite as heavy as usual.

And then there's a rustling in the room beside you, and a crash as–you assume–Keith tumbles off your sofa and hits the ground. A faint groan floats past the kitchen doorway and you try to hide your grin. A couple of seconds later a very dishevelled-looking Keith stumbles into the kitchen.

"Morning," you tell him, rolling your shoulders once so they won't go stiff against the windowsill. He nods at you, dark eyes bleary. "Feel better?"

He sniffs. "I don't feel like I just got struck by lightning and dragged behind a racecar over an especially rocky road. So I guess that's improvement."

You blow on the hot tea in your hands. "I'm glad. Would have hated to have gone through all that trouble for nothing. You're quite the guest, you know."

Keith winces at the words, despite your light tone. For some reason, his frown and pained expression tug at your stomach. "But I don't mind it," you add hurriedly. "I mean–it was my own choice to take you in. I very well could not have done that. But–but I did." Shut up, shut up, shut up, you shouted internally.

The corners of Keith's mouth lift ever so slightly. "Lucky for me."

"Lucky for you," you agree with a grin.

It's silent for a while, and in the sunlight, you can clearly see how thin Keith really is. His shirt hangs from his frame in a shapeless lump of cloth, his trousers sagging and almost slipping from his bony hips. While he does look better–the life has returned to his eyes–he still doesn't look good, and the sight of him makes your guts twist. You point to the fridge. "There's leftovers from yesterday. Grab whatever you want–but be careful not to eat too much. I don't want you puking all over my kitchen."

But Keith has already found the other chinese box, and you show him which drawers contain cutlery and in which cupboard are stashed the glasses. He scarfs down the rice in ten minutes flat, and you shake your head in silent judgement. "I'm going to find a way to make you pay back everything you'll cost me, food-wise. You're in debt, starting today."

He gives you a shy grin, but his attention is quickly taken up once more by the food in front of him. You quietly sip your tea, staring out of the window, occasionally glancing at the angel sitting at your kitchen table.

That's when it truly hits you how much of an idiot you're being.

Last night, it had been late. Five days of nothing on your mind but the thought of trying to keep him alive, and finally finding a way to do so, had left you shaky and dazed. Seeing him up and about after getting used to the sound of his ragged, unsteady breathing floating through your apartment had been a shock.

But now the full weight of what you'd done–and what you hadn't done–crashes into you, and you realise you have absolutely no idea how to feel. The air charges with tension, and the angel leans back in his seat. He looks about as uncomfortable as you feel. Your mind whirls with thoughts, all seeming to want something different–the part of you that's curious where this whole situation would lead and is whispering to you to let him stay; the part of you that's still a loyal soldier to the Below and is screaming at you to turn him in; the part of you that wants nothing to do with any of this and is growling to throw him back out on the street. You shake your head, downing the last of your tea and hopping off the counter.

"Take a shower when you're done with that," you mutter. "I have to get back to work soon. My co-workers are gonna ask questions and I need to be prepared."

Keith nods. Your phone is already in your hands and you fire off a quick text to the shelter's manager to inform him you'd be in this afternoon. You don't know Anthony that well–he mostly keeps to the side and handles potential adopters. You prefer to stay with the animals. Almost immediately you receive a reply: he says he's delighted that you've decided to return so soon after taking your unexpected leave. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the barely-veiled passive-aggressiveness.

"Oh, yeah." You turn and point at Keith with your phone. "You can stay for as long as you need to, like, get your bearings and feel somewhat okay again, but then I'm kicking you out. I don't know if you have any idea of how much of a risk I'm taking here, but–"

"I get it," he cuts you off, and you can tell he means it. He needs to work on concealing his emotions, you think off-handedly. He's an open book. It's distracting. "Thank you. Seriously."

The tension builds until it's almost tangible. You shake your head, trying to shake the dizziness away. "It's–yeah. My pleasure, or whatever. I'm locking the door behind me." He gives a brief incline of his head to show he understands. "All right then. Later, I guess. Make–make sure you've showered. You kind of smell," you say apologetically. "No offence."

"None taken," he laughs. "You're right, anyway."

You make a gesture that's in between a nod and a headshake, then make a blind grab for your coat and your scarf before pulling the door closed behind you and locking it.

The shelter's lights are on, and its illuminated windows stand out starkly in the dim grimness of the gloomy street. It doesn't rain, for once, but grey clouds hang overhead and block the sun, the little light that makes it past them flimsy and thin. You pull the door closed behind you. The little bell above the doorway rings once, softly, and barking immediately pipes up from the next room over. You smile.

"Hey, loves," you mutter to each animal as you pass their cages, stopping here and there and sticking your fingers through the bars to give a furry face a pat, or to scratch a scaly butt, or to stroke a feathered head. "I missed you guys."

"They missed you too, I think," comes a quiet voice from behind you. You crouch and open a cage, plucking out a small cat and scritching it behind the ears. "They've been rather unruly in the days you weren't here. Restless, you know."

"Hi, Tony."

"Y/N." He inclines his head. "Did you have a nice leave?" It's a question purely out of politeness, you know, because he's your employer and he's supposed to be polite. As far as employers go, Tony really isn't the worst of them. But you can't shake the feeling that he's fishing for something.

"I did. I've been busy," you say cautiously, not taking your eyes off of the kitten you're cradling. "Sorry for it being so unexpected."

"Oh, not at all," Tony replies smoothly, sailing over to where you sit and leaning on the wall behind you, "We've managed. It was your week off, anyway, and just because you've insisted on working in your free time before doesn't mean that you always will." But it doesn't take amazing detective skills to hear the suspicious edge to his voice.

"That's right," you say, maybe a little too sharply. You can almost smell Tony's raised eyebrow behind you. "Sorry. I've just–I've been a little on edge, lately. I'll–" You scramble up, depositing the kitten back in its cage and dusting fur off your t-shirt. "I'll be in the back." You have the weird urge to salute, but you manage to suppress it. He's already suspicious, you remind yourself. Don't make it worse by acting weird.

It is a shame you can't spend more time with the animals, but you're not the only one who decided to come in today–it's actually quite crowded for a Saturday–so you get storage room duty and instead spend your afternoon putting away boxes of food and medicine and cleaning products. Emmie, one of your co-workers, sticks her head around the corner of your door at the end of the day.

"Hey. We're gonna go get milkshakes, wanna come?"

Your back screams when you push off the chair, eager for an excuse to cut your day short. "You're a godsend." The expression is actually used exclusively as an insult in the Below, but you find you like the Middle Ground version better. "Let me just grab my shoes, I'll be right there."

Hopping on one foot as you finish tying your laces, you join Emmie, Nirina, Adam and Zach as they stride out the door, Emmie and Zach's arms linked. In the back of your mind you recognise that's strange: Emmie and Zach can't stand each other. A smile curls the corners of your lips. You did miss quite a lot this past week, didn't you?

"We're going to this new place a few blocks down," Emmie shouts over her shoulder. You try to chat with Nirina for a bit, but she's more silent than usual, barely saying a word, and eventually she retreats to walk next to Adam behind you. When you don't focus on it, a black, vaguely animal-shaped shadow seems to sit on her shoulder, but when you look directly at it nothing's there.

Something isn't right here.

The feeling creeps into your very bones, making the hairs on your neck stand on edge and your shoulder blades tingle. The sense that you're being watched, and more–as you realise that with Nirina and Adam behind you and Emmie and Zach in front of you, it almost feels like you're being escorted. Guarded.

"Hey, Em," you call. Your hand creeps towards your pocket, but with a start you remember you left your knife at home. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "What's the place we're going called?"

Emmie turns around and flashes you a fanged grin. Your blood turns to ice. "So Above, So Below." And then she pounces--and pushes you straight through the pavement. You don't even have time to scream.

You lose all sense of direction. Up is down and left is right as you fall, fall, fall through a black hole, Emmie's nails still digging into your shoulders, though you're sure if you actually opened your eyes you'd see they're claws. You try to tug yourself loose, but her grip immediately tightens. You hiss when you feel her talons draw blood.

"No getting away, Y/N dear," she giggles into your ear.

Well, at least you know what she–and the others too, by the sound of it–is. Only Bountyhunters can get to the Below or the Above without using one of the doors or passages, instead creating their own temporary ones. You've travelled by Bounty Tunnel before. It's not a memory you cherish. The only thing you can do is close your eyes and hope it'll be over soon.

When you finally make contact, all the air is knocked out of you and for a moment you see nothing but black spots dancing in front of your eyes. Then you suck in a scorching breath and blink, and the familiar stark white ceiling of the Offices comes into view. You groan, and when you try to sit up, your hands catch in ashy grey feathers: your wings have popped. You flush, already feeling Haggar's disapproving scowl digging into your back. How unprofessional, she'd mumble.

Haggar has always hated your guts–even back when you were still loyal to the Below.

Emmie–except she looks nothing like Emmie anymore–tosses her long dark ponytail over her shoulder and sighs. "That was almost too easy. We were told you'd be a challenge."

"I haven't been feeling well," you reply, voice icy as you stand up and shake out your wings. You don't miss the way Emmie's expression sours and suppress a smirk. Bounties don't have wings, and they'll never stop being salty about it. "Also, four against one? That seems a little unfair, even for Management." You pause. "I'm assuming you got hired by Management."

"Of course we got hired by Management, demon," Zach snarls. He runs his fingers through his hair and glares at you, his fangs growing by the second and soon touching his chin. And then his face begins to change, his jaw softening (though not by much), his eyes growing more cat-like, his lips plumping. You frown, because you know this face. You know her.

Zethrid grins, fangs shining in the white LED light. "Long time no see, Y/N." You give a sarcastic wave.

"Yes, Y/N," comes an icy voice from behind you. Your shoulders tense, and your feathers puff involuntarily. "Long time no see indeed."

Haggar glides out of her office doors, and you feel all the stony calm and resistance leave you in one fell swoop. Her yellow eyes bore into yours, and it takes every ounce of willpower inside you not to look away. She nods her head, once. "My office, Y/N. Now."

"You're so dead," mutters Zethrid as you pass her.

"When I get out of here, you're the first person whose throat I'll slit," you hiss in return.

Haggar slumps in her seat and plucks her looking glass from its stand, making it levitate over her hand and glaring like she has a personal vendetta against it. "If it were up to me, I would already have you burning and hanging from the Grand Hall ceiling," she says, vanishing the mirror in a cloud of smoke. You try to ignore the pang of fear stabbing into your chest. You're gonna be fine, you tell yourself. You're going to be okay. But you find it hard to believe the words.

"But–" the mirror reappears in her other hand– "a certain Prince insisted on keeping you alive." She whirls the looking glass around and it floats in front of your face. Prince Lotor of the Below looks at you with a scrutinising gaze, as if gauging how much you'd be worth on the night market.

"Y/N," he says in a clear voice. You nod, then quickly incline your head in a slight bow. Watch your tongue, Y/N. Watch. Your. Tongue. "No need for that." Lotor snaps his fingers, and you look up again, eyes fixed on the rim of the looking glass, determined not to meet Lotor's. You're afraid of what you might see.

It's silent for a moment, and you keep your mouth shut for as long as you can, but you eventually break. "Forgive me, Lord, but–"

"Shut up." It takes all of your willpower not to cock your head and narrow your eyes in indignation. Lotor leans forward, elbows perched on his desk and fingertips pressed together. His cold gaze is calculating and cruel, and your entire body reels with disgust and hatred. "I didn't keep you alive because I care about what happens to you. Because I don't," he clarifies with a raised eyebrow, and this time you can't keep the grimly sarcastic smile at bay. "I kept you alive because I need you to do a job."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think I'm the right person for any job." You try to keep your voice light and your fists unclenched, but it's a harder task than you want to admit.

"Told him so," Haggar mutters from behind the mirror. You can tell she thoroughly disagrees with being used as a TV-stand. "There are so much more competent candidates for this assignment who actually want to prove themselves and their loyalty to us." You have the feeling she's talking directly to Lotor now. "But no, you just had to get the one rogue who'll do everything in their power to get out from this–"

"Enough," Lotor says coolly, and Haggar clamps her jaw shut, though her eyes flash with murder. You don't know who she wants to kill more at the moment: you or Lotor. "Y/N will do the job, and they'll do it without complaining."

"You sound awfully sure." You've since given up on trying to be respectful. Lotor might be the Prince of the Below, but you had wriggled yourself out of more difficult situations than these before. You're already carefully plotting an escape.

Because the mistake most people make when they see you is that they underestimate you. They think they have you pinned down, and then they loosen their hold and up till now, that has always worked out in your favour–you know how to manipulate people and you know how to get out of the Below. You know every single of the dozens and dozens of passageways leading out onto Middle Ground, and from there on you know how to hide. You've done it before, and managed to keep off their radar for quite a while.

In fact, the only reason they caught you now was because you had been too preoccupied with a certain angel to keep your thoughts straight. A mistake, and one you won't be making again.

"I am sure," Lotor's clear voice cuts through your thoughts and pulls you back to the present. "There's a contract on the desk. Sign it, and we'll give you the details."

You can't stop the startled laugh that bursts past your lips. "A Blank Contract? You expect me to sign a Blank Contract?"

Lotor merely cocks his head and smiles that lazy smile of his.

And then the little looking glass shatters and you yelp, taking a step backwards in surprise, feeling your muscles tense. "I do," his voice says from behind you, and you whirl around just in time to see Lotor sail into Haggar's office.

Haggar gives a sharp sigh and brushes shattered glass off her uniform. "Do you always have to do that? Those mirrors are expensive, you know. I'm gonna have you pay for them if you insist on making a dramatic entrance every time."

Lotor ignores her, his gaze fixed on you. He waves his hand, and a piece of paper appears between his fingers. It's mostly blank, save for one thickly outlined black square with an inscription you can't read from where you stand, but you know what they say: Candidate's signature. "I'm not signing." But your voice has a tremor to it, and you suddenly feel a lot smaller as Lotor strides towards you. It was a lot easier to disrespect the Prince of the Below through a looking glass.

His eyes flash with irritation. "You will." Somehow, those two words hold more threat to them than all the insults the Bounties threw at you earlier.

But you set your jaw and clench your fists. "I'd rather die. I'm. Not. Signing." You had vowed to not ever help the Below in any way, shape or form again. It wasn't worth it.

"Told you so," Haggar sing-songs from behind her desk, a maniacal glint to her eye. "Just take one of the actually competent ones. Let me string them up."

Lotor gives a sharp sigh. "Touch them and I'll be stringing you up." Haggar pouts and crosses her arms. He turns to you, and the coolness in his eyes sends shivers up your spine. The realisation hits you like a freight train. He's done something. He knows something. He would never be this sure of himself if he didn't have an absolutely airtight plan.

Then Lotor waves his hand again, and another mirror you hadn't noticed before–a looking glass spanning from the floor to the ceiling, partially hidden by a black curtain–lights up, and the image you see has all the colour drain from your face and your heart skip a beat.

Allura is tied to a chair and breathing hard, her nurse's scrubs hanging crookedly, torn and dirty. A nasty cut spans from her cheekbone to her eyebrow, and blood runs down the side of her face. Tears mix with the grime and blood smearing her cheeks. Behind her stand Emmie and Zethrid the Bountyhunters, crazed smiles painted upon both their faces.

As soon as she sees you, Allura lets out a strangled cry that is muffled by the gag strung over her mouth. Her eyes widen, and you rush forward, stopping just short of the mirror's surface, afraid to break it. Your shaking fingertips hover just shy of the surface before you pull them back to your chest. Tears threaten to spill past your eyes, so you push them down and try to take a breath.

"Is this real?" You know how hallucinations work. You know how powerful illusions can be, and you know exactly how useful of a tool they can be in manipluation. It's a tool you've used yourself.

"Maybe. Maybe not," says Lotor's soft voice. His breath washes over the side of your face, and you can feel sick rise in your throat. All compusure is lost. It's all or nothing now. Thoughts muddle and get mixed up in your mind until all you can focus on is Allura, terrified and hurt, sitting in front of you yet separated by a thin sheet of glass and who knows how many miles.

A crazy thought of Maybe I can free her pops up, but you beat it down immediately again. You don't know where she is. You don't know if this is even real. Lotor would immediately order her killed if you attempted anything remotely similar to a breakout. Then kill Lotor, a ragged voice in your mind screams.

"Come, come, no rash decisions now," Lotor says as if he just read your thoughts. His hands ghost over your shoulders, sliding down until they reach your elbows. He gently forces them to your sides, and you don't even have the strength in you to resist. A fresh stream of tears runs down Allura's cheeks, and she weakly thrashes against her bonds, and in the end, that's what yanks you out of your stupor.

Your chin snaps up. "So you'll let her go if I sign the contract?"

Lotor rolls his eyes. "Look whose wits have returned to them." He lets go of your elbows and takes a step toward the mirror, hands clasped behind his back and his hungry gaze raking across Allura's form. She looks up at him with a mix of hatred and fear in her eyes. She's given up struggling against the ropes, but her jaw is set, and her eyes are steely; terrified, but determined. Her gaze flicks back to you and she gives the tiniest shake of her head.

Lotor reels back and laughs, the sound booming within the office walls. He shakes his head, still chuckling, his long silvery hair swishing behind him as he stalks back to the desk and swoops up the contract. "Feisty. I like that. Doesn't have the slightest clue of what's going on but still tells you to not do the thing you obviously don't want to do." He flashes you a fanged grin that makes your blood run cold. "I just might pay her a visit later myself."

"That's Middle Ground, my Prince," you manage through gritted teeth. "I'll find and kill you before you even have a chance to knock on her door."

"That's some confidence you've got right there, Y/N. Keep it for the job."

"I haven't signed your contract yet."

Lotor cocks his head and his grin widens. "Yet being the keyword here."

You turn back to the mirror, scanning Allura for any sign that she might not be real, looking for something that might hint that her image is off. Something. Anything. But your manic brain is running in circles, looking for loopholes that might not even be there, and you know you're not making sense, because the chance that she's just an illusion is there, but on the off-chance that she isn't, that she actually is in danger–

You would never forgive yourself if she were to get hurt and you could have put a stop to it.

"It's possible," you breathe, your hands curling to fists. "It's possible that none of this is real."

Lotor nods as if your words are perfectly reasonable. "True." There's a beat of silence, and his feverish eyes bore into yours. "But are you willing to take that risk?"

Anyone else–any proper demon–would have laughed in his face and torn the contract to shreds, watching gleefully as Allura got tortured in front of their eyes. But you had left behind your demon ways a good while ago, and you had always been a rotten pupil anyway. So you bite your tongue and snatch the contract and pen from Lotor's waiting fingers, scribbling your signature down hard enough that you pierce the paper.

"See, I knew you'd come around in the end!" He claps his hands in delight and throws a triumphant glance Haggar's way. "I told you so."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles, waving a hand as if to dismiss his words. She gives you a slightly disapppointed stare. "I was rooting for you, kiddo. Show some spine next time."

You fight the tears threatening to spill and slap the now-signed contract back onto the desk. "All right. Details, Lotor. What's the assignment?"

His eyes flash. Business; there's something he knows. "We received word that one of the Above's most prized angels has just gone rogue." He starts pacing, and your eyes keep finding Allura's behind him–but she looks at you with pity and something that's almost disappointment, and you have to look away before you break down completely. "It came out of nowhere, too: stellar record, followed orders without a second thought. A great soldier." You don't miss the punch behind the words.

"And you want me to do, what, kill him?" That wouldn't be too hard. At least, you think. Your mind is still a bit muddy, but something ugly and twisted inside you is still desperate for Management's approval. Still eager to prove yourself. I can be a good soldier too.

"Oh no, no," Lotor says with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I just want you to find him and bring him in. It shouldn't be that hard to do–after all, who better to track a rogue than another rogue themselves?"

There's still something else. Something he isn't telling you. Sure, you're good at what you do–at what you used to do–but was it worth going through all the trouble just to get you to sign the stupid contract? As much as you loathed to do it, you silently had to agree with Haggar on this one. There were so many young demons scrambling for their chance to prove themselves and their worth–why not let them take this assignment?

"That–that's it?"

Lotor cocks a brow. "I mean, unless you wanted more work, I guess that's it.'

You give a cautious nod. "Okay. So what do we know about this guy?"

"Not much. My sources weren't able to provide very recent information–"

"Get better sources."

"–But what they do know is that this particular angel has been off the map for years. Quite like you," he adds as he raises his other eyebrow. You roll your eyes. "He's impossible to find, quite hard to track, and a very skilled fighter. Rumour has it he's scouring your city's streets at the moment."

You resist a frown. If this guy has been prowling your streets and you haven't noticed, something is definitely amiss. Might just be that you've been preoccupied with Keith and everything that happened around him, but if this has been going on for as long as Lotor is implying it has... this just might prove an actual challenge.

The old feeling of excitement and anticipation starts to run through your very bones again, and you hate the way it makes you feel–energised. As if you can handle anything thrown your way. Ready. It's a feeling you haven't known in years, and one you haven't missed, though now that it courses through your veins again there's no point in denying that you're enjoying it. The thrill of the chase.

But then Lotor speaks the name of the angel you're supposed to bring in, and everything falls into place, only to shatter into a million pieces a split second after.

You see his lips move. Hear the words spoken, though they take a moment to get processed, and when they do they leave behind an emptiness that has you stare at him, too dumbfounded and untrusting of yourself to speak.

It can't be. This must be the universe's idea of a cruel joke. The very guy you'd risked everything for–the very angel that had caused your distractedness and is the reason you were here in the first place–is the same rogue angel about whom you had just signed a contract.

The crushing weight of it settles on your shoulders. All five days of you struggling to keep him breathing, for nothing. The weird excursion to Coran's shop, for nothing. The goddamn chinese takeout you'd bought for him, for fucking nothing.

But somehow you manage to keep your face straight, and Lotor hadn't been watching you as he said it, instead gazing intently at something over your head, so you can only hope he hasn't noticed the lurch in your expression at the mention of Keith Kogane.

"All right." You're almost shocked at how steady your voice is. "Okay. I've agreed. You got what you want. Now, free Allura." Even though your voice is pretty steady, you curl your hands into fists to hide their shaking.

Lotor doesn't move for a moment, and you seriously begin to think he's having a seizure until he snaps his fingers and Emmie lunges forward.

In her hand is a knife, and she plunges it into Allura's chest without a second of hesitation.

You rush toward the mirror, a strangled "No!" ripped from your throat. Your fingers claw at the smooth glass surface and you watch her slump, blood gushing from the wound and staining her scrubs a dark crimson. Your knees buckle, and your eyes stay glued to her form as she convulses, coughs up blood twice, then goes limp. Her head falls back...

And snaps back up, and you lurch back with a startled cry. Allura's eyes have gone red and are shining with mania. Her skin turns the colour of wet ash, and her hair falls out of its updo and cascades down her shoulders, tendrils black and writhing as if they have a mind of their own...

Demon.

Shapeshifter.

Your breathing comes in short and shallow rasps as the full realisation of things settles in. Allura was never in danger. You were right all along. If only you had put your foot down. If only you hadn't let your feelings cloud your mind.

It doesn't matter now. You signed a contract–and there's no going back from that.

Lotor fingers through the file that bears your signature in black ink. Slowly, the words explaining just what you signed start to appear on the sheets, snaking their way along the curves of the paper as if written in by an invisible hand. A steel fist clenches around your heart, and you struggle to stand up, your muscles turned to jelly. The surface of the mirror has gone black again.

A shaking hand comes up to cover your mouth, and your teeth clench down on your lower lip so hard that they draw blood. Lotor flicks his wrist, and the contract disappears. The fingers of your free hand twitch as if they wanted to grab at the file. You level your gaze with Lotor's, and evidently your years of training finally paid off in the end, because in his eyes you can see how passive your expression is. You'd be a good poker player, your fleeting mind thinks randomly. The only thing giving away your current emotions is the hand mindlessly tugging at your bottom lip, and the fact that your breathing is still rather fast.

"Now," Lotor drawls in his honey-coated voice–sugary sweet, sticky, suffocating–and snakes an arm around your shoulders, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

And you know you should keep your mouth shut, because he is the Prince of the Below, and Haggar has already expressed her desire to string you up and set you on fire in the Grand Hall for every new recruit to see–but on the other hand, you just signed a contract, and that makes you technically untouchable until Lotor has reason to believe you won't be able to complete the task set out for you.

The very foundation of a plan starts coming together in your mind. You jut up your chin and break free from his grasp. "So do I get assignment-issue gear? A blade? A gun, maybe? If this angel is as good as you make him out to be, perhaps I should need some more useful weapons than your average kitchen knife."

Lotor scrutinises you for a moment, then waves his hand. A set of gleaming double blades appear on Haggar's desk, along with their sheaths and long black gloves. Haggar huffs with an indignant mutter of Sure, use my desk as your summoning surface. Don't mind at all. You ignore her and lift an eyebrow. "That's all you're going to give me?"

"If you're as good as you say, this is all you will need," Lotor replies in that smooth tone of his. His eyes glint; he's gotten what he wanted. He's already won.

But that's fine. Lotor may have won this battle, and you need to make him feel like he has, but in the end you'll do everything in your power to win the war. And Lotor just handed you the weapons that just might be able to get you there.

"Fine," you mutter, snatching up the knives, pointedly refusing to strap them to your back like is procedure, instead securing the harnesses to your thighs as a small act of defiance. Irritation flashes in his eyes. "I'll report to you how often?"

"No reports," Lotor says with a wave of his hand. "We don't want to make any potential spies of the Above suspicious. Just make sure you find him, and when you do..." He tosses you a little disk about the size of a large coin, and you startle at how heavy it is. It's pleasantly warm to the touch, and you have a creeping suspicion as to what it is that is only confirmed with Lotor's next words. "Portal pass. Use it wisely."

You turn the pass over and over in your hands, the familiar weight of the knives at your thighs comforting and seeming to pull you down to the ground at the same time. "Is that–will that be all?" Risky words, risky questions–you're going out on a limb and assume Lotor won't have you hanged for running your mouth: he did just pretend to torture your best friend to coerce a signature out of you, so you suppose he has to give you some slack.

He sails to a halt in front of you, face so close his nose almost touches yours, and you have to stop yourself from recoiling. His expression is cold, his gaze calculating–and the smile that creeps up his lips sends shivers up our spine. "Yes. I think that will be all." He raises a brow and throws a glance Haggar's way, which you find comical as he didn't seem to give a solid fuck about her opinions when he used her office as his personal torture chamber.

Haggar shrugs. "I still think we should string them up and burn them to a crisp."

"Yes, Haggar, I know. Why did I even bother." He gives you a lazy flick of his hand, but you've already turned and your hand is resting on the doorknob, when something occurs to you and you cast a look at him over your shoulder.

"My Prince?" The title feels like hot oil searing down your throat, but you expect the words you're about to say require this small bit of courtesy. He raises a brow and nods. "I'm going to kill the Bounties that brought me here." Your voice sounds oddly bored.

Lotor chuckles. "They're no demons. They don't have a place in the Below." It's like his gaze issues a challenge, and a fresh wave of loathing for this Prince washes over your being. "Go right ahead."

You flash a cold smile and slam the door shut.

– – –

You wipe your blades with some wet wipes and discard them in the trashcan beside you when they get too filthy with blood (the store clerk barely looked up when you came in and purchased a single packet of wet wipes and a duffel bag–apparently the average cashier sees weirder stuff than a maniac with bloodied hunting knives the size of their forearms slamming a pack of wet wipes on the counter on a daily basis). Emmie, Adam, Zethrid and Nirina's bodies have long since turned to dust, and you have to work to keep your breathing steady and to stop your eyes from glowing red as the phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder rings.

Allura picks up on the fourth ring. "'Sup?"

It was just a check. Just to make sure. But if Allura truly did just get tortured, you have a feeling she wouldn't pick up a phone call with a simple 'Sup?

"Hey. How was your day?" Your speech comes out slightly slurred, and Allura laughs on the other side of the line.

"Fine. Work, you know. Routine." You can almost hear the grin on her face as she says, "And you? Weren't you supposed to be at work too, today?"

Work. Work feels like such a long time ago--when it was in reality only a couple of hours back. You nod slowly, though it's more to convince yourself than anything else. "Yeah. I was. Some co-workers and I went to get smoothies afterwards. To welcome me back," you joke.

"Did they pay?"

"Yeah."

"Good for you. Free milkshake. I'm jealous."

You laugh, but it feels hollow in your chest. "Hey--I need to run now, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Sweet of you to check in, Y/N."

You eye the gleaming blade, running a finger along its razor-sharp edge. "No problem."

After you hang up, you sit back against the wall digging into your back, forcing down the pumping feeling in your limbs.

It's something you've missed, and you can't deny it. The absolute exhilaration you feel when your blades make contact, the thrumming of adrenaline in your veins as you dodge to avoid the blows that four individual enemies are throwing at you. The fear in Zethrid's eyes when she realises she is the only one left standing, and the life seeping from her eyes as you slit her throat.

It doesn't make you feel good, exactly–especially now that the thrill of the moment has worn off and you just feel tired and there's an ache that has burrowed itself deep into your bones–but there's no replicating the rush of power that courses through your very being when you're the one in control.

When the blades of death are yours to wield.

The knives are now securely stored in your new black duffel, and you try and figure out how you're going to pull off bringing two huge knives home without rousing suspicion from Keith. You internally debate whether you shouldn't just find a safe space to stash the duffel until you need it. There are quite a few nooks and crannies you know no one in their right mind would look, but then again, this was a big city. There were plenty of creepier people prawling these streets than the occasional demon.

And then you pass a gym, and an idea sparks in your head.

After casually shoplifting a bunch of sportswear from the nearest Nike store, you return to the gym with the knives in your bag hidden by the copious amounts of t-shirts and trainers stacked on top of them. You get a locker and stuff the bag inside before making your way outside again, smiling at the desk guy as you leisurely stroll out of the gym. The guy narrows his eyes at you–your clothes are still slightly torn and dirty, and you're pretty sure you have a bruise forming on the right side of your cheek, but you don't pay him any mind. He works at a gym. He's seen stranger than you.

But the closer you get to your apartment, the heavier the portal pass starts to feel in your pocket, and the more insecure your steps become. The sun hangs low over the city skyline, but hasn't completely started to set yet, and soft golden light washes over the streets, making them look... wrong. Bleak. Colour in a place where colour shouldn't be. You had just killed in these streets, and nobody noticed.

The thought makes you feel kind of sorry for the Bounties. They would be missed by no one.

You're still lost in thought when you almost hit a door and you snap back to reality. Your feet had carried you all the way up to your apartment. You blinked hard, rubbed a hand over your face and fumbled for your keys.

"Hey. It's me. Did you burn the house down while I was gone?"

Keith looks up from where he sits on an armchair–your armchair, but you understand he wouldn't want to spend another minute on the couch he spent five days on, hallucinating out of his mind–and grins, and your heart does a leap. And then he frowns, and you freeze, and your immediate thought is Oh fuck, he's found me out, he knows everything, he's going to call the other angels and he's going to kill me–

But the words he speaks are soft with concern. "What happened to your face?" And it takes all of your willpower not to break down right then and there.

He puts down the book he was reading and walks over to you, eyebrows knotted with worry, and reaches out to touch your forehead. Only then does he seem to realise how close to you he's standing, and he quickly pulls his fingers back to his chest. They're red with blood. "Let's get that disinfected, yeah?"

Before you can answer, he's already started towards your kitchen. You blink, still stunned, before following him like you're in a daze. He looks over his shoulder and points to a kitchen chair. You plop down, and it's when the weight is taken off your legs that the exhaustion comes crashing into you at breakneck speed, and it takes all your strength not to plunk your head down on the kitchen table and just pass out.

"Where do you keep your first aid kit?"

You vaguely point to a cabinet below the sink, and moments later Keith plops the kit down beside you on the table and plucks out a wad of cotton and disinfecting spray. You don't even feel it sting when he gently dabs at the cut on your forehead and cheekbone. His eyes are firmly trained on the cotton, his dark brows furrowed–there's a little crease between them that your foggy self finds most endearing–and he's chewing absent-mindedly on his bottom lip.

With a shock, you realise this is the closest you've been to him. Ever. This is the first time you can properly study his face, and you can always blame your muddy mind later if he brings up how blatantly you were staring at him, so you let yourself drink in every feature of his face. You find yourself drawn to his eyes most; they're a stunning deep violet, the colour of the sky at twilight, when the sun has just set and the last rays of light streak the heavens with purple. Most of all, they're soft with concern and simultaneously fierce with a kind of fire you haven't seen on him before.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Keith's eyes briefly flicker to yours, and he gives an awkward shrug before going back to gently rubbing at your wounds. "It's none of my business. You haven't asked me about what I was doing on Middle Ground in the first place, and I won't stick my nose into what doesn't concern me." But the words sound like he's reciting them; like a lesson he learned at school. You can see in his eyes that he is in fact curious, but also that he isn't going to press further. How very angelic of him.

You purse your lips, fingering the portal pass in your jacket pocket.

Your mind is a jumble of thoughts, like someone took all your emotions and threw them in a blender. Every moment you spend with Keith in your kitchen–how is it you always end up in the kitchen?–you grow more sure that you can't turn him in. But the contract pulls at your insides, and you know that if you keep ignoring its contents it will keep gnawing at you until you can't take it anymore and snap.

The contract is the contract. Binding and eternal.

"Keith."

His hand freezes, and you carefully guide it to the table, gently forcing him to put down the cotton. "Thank you, really. But I'm okay. I promise."

He nods. Slowly. "Okay."

And oh, how you want to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, but that would make things a thousand times more complicated than they already are–

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop. It's the exhaustion talking, you firmly tell yourself, before you yank your fingers back and stand. You're a bit wobbly, but you manage. Keith wisely doesn't attempt to help you, but you can feel his eyes boring into your back as you make your way to your bedroom.

You change. You brush your teeth. You splash some water in your face to clear your head. Everything happens in a haze, your mind too tired to think about anything at all.

But then your eye falls on a piece of paper resting on your pillow. You frown and pick it up, and your eyes widen when you recognise your own scraggly handwriting littering the little parchment card. A hand flies up to your mouth to muffle your startled scream, and you drop the card as if it just burned your fingertips, though your eyes stay glued to its surface.

The words I want Keith to be okay stare back up at you, and with every passing second your breathing gets quicker and more ragged. Your fingers tingle, and as you draw a tentative breath you sink down onto the mattress. Your fingers tingle, but they tingle with warmth, and the feeling is not unpleasant.

Where Keith's own skin brushed yours, the chill that had seeped into your very core and had burrowed there for days, leaving you in a constant state of stiff cold, dissipated. The feeling is so weirdly foreign after having only felt cold for days that you dumbly stare out into nothingness, trying to shake the heat out of your hand. It doesn't work. It feels good, and you want more of it.

For a moment, the contract leaves your mind, replaced by Keith's eyes, the way he'd looked up at you, all softness and worry; the gentleness of his fingers as they cleaned the shallow cuts on your face. You close your eyes and lean back, the little parchment card on the floor seeming to beg for your attention. You never knew paper could be this loud.

For just a moment, you allow yourself to think of Keith and not just see an angel–but something more.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

I Have Confidence (SMUT)

anonymous said: bitch u better FEED me some Ben smut you’re like one of the only good writers in this fan base and I throw it BACK for Ben so idk do something with drunk y/n and ben and it’s playful and y/n is kinda needy or literally write whatever u want I’ll fucking cash app u sis I’m desperate!

(a/n: OMG I am 100% flattered that you think I’m one of the greats I literally feel like im in such a small corner of the fanbase bc im such a dweeb but that makes me cry happy tears THANK U. also yes i know i’ve already had a roger imagine w battleSHIPS in it but.... this is battleSHOTS bitch. NOW BACK TO UR REGULAR SCHEDULED BEN SMUT yall got spoiled w the fluff from the last post)

(p.s. u can still venmo/cash app me if u want im a broke college student pls spare change ma’am)

“Battleshots? You Americans are fucking mental, I swear.”

Ben was seated across the table from you, cross-legged on the chair that was currently actually a bit too warm for comfort. Both of you were out on his balcony, sitting at a table that was lit only by the late evening sun and the light streaming out of the door that led into his house.

You’d fashioned two makeshift Battleshots boards out of two small pizza boxes, seeing as you’d ordered pizza in tonight and the boxes had reminded you of your favorite party game. There was a grid on the bottom and top, and you each had 9 shot glasses filled with different liquors placed on the board in formations of 4, 3, and 2, just like the game of Battleships.

“It’s fun, don’t knock it til you try it,” you warned, peeking over the top of the box that was propped up on a cup and smiling. Ben’s curious green eyes met yours, and he laughed as he saw you stick your tongue out at him. “Winner finishes shots, or loser finishes winner’s shots? Your choice.”

“I say winner doesn’t have to finish their shots, that’s only fair.” He then sat back in his chair and pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “I don’t want loser to finish the winner’s shots either, because I don’t think you can handle more than 9 shots.”

“Oh? Someone’s got a big head, don’t they?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and rolling your eyes playfully as he shrugged, smiling smugly.

“I have confidence in my abilities.” An exaggerated groan left your mouth as you flipped him off, trying not to laugh at how cocky he was being. “In all aspects of life,” he added with an eyebrow wiggle, making you pretend to gag as you waved your hand dismissively at him.

“I don’t want to hear about your sex life right now, Ben.”

“Why not? You seemed to enjoy my sex life a lot a couple nights ago.” A blush crept across your cheeks as you grabbed the decorative pillow you’d bought for him that was resting on the chair next to you, throwing it at him as he tried to imitate your moans.

He caught the pillow, laughing, and put it right back where it belonged as he gave you a knowing look. “You’re a pervert,” you mumbled, sitting up in your chair and grabbing your marker as you moved your cup of orange juice closer – you were using it as a chaser, while Ben opted for some kind of soda you hadn’t paid attention to.

You began the game of Battleshots, neck and neck with Ben throughout the first part until you both only had three shots left. You weren’t feeling anything yet, probably having taken the shots too close together, but you knew it would hit you soon. Standing up was something you were starting to fear.

But then Ben knocked out your last three in three successive rounds while you missed the rest of his, and you accepted defeat with only mild complaining as Ben cheered loudly, ever the gracious winner.

“I’ll take my winnings in cash or check, whichever works,” he teased, making you groan and climb up off your chair. Yep. There it was. You felt a warmth spread throughout your body and a dizziness overtake you as you stood, and you had to grab onto the chair next to you to ground yourself for a moment.

“Oof…. I’ve never lost this game,” you admitted sheepishly, Ben’s chuckles turning into cackles of laughter as he went to open the door for you, watching you make your way inside as best as you could. He was feeling something, but by no means was he as tipsy as you – if anything, he just felt a slight buzz, while you were verging on actually being drunk if you drank anything else.

Ben followed you as you headed to the kitchen to get yourself a water, and you glared at him as he continued to tease you, obviously in a great mood from winning. “Do you need help getting the water open? You’re a right mess, Ms. Second Place.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled, taking a drink of the water and flipping him off as you leaned back against the counter.

He only laughed, unfazed by your grumpiness as he came over to place his hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you. “Does the winner get a kiss, at least?” He puckered his lips, closing his eyes and waiting for you to close the gap between you two. Scowling, you did the first thing you could think of – pouring some of your water onto his mussy, slightly curly blonde hair. The look of shock on his face was worth it all as he pulled away, gasping and pushing your hand away. “You little-“

“Cry about it,” you interrupted as you sat the water down, shrugging before taking off in a stumbling run and laughing deliriously as he scrambled after you, nearly slipping completely on the puddle of water that had gathered on the kitchen floor.

You made it all the way to the hallway upstairs before Ben caught you – he’d taken the steps two at a time, damn his thighs and stamina – and he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up into a vice-like grip as you shrieked with drunken laughter, fighting against his arms even though it was clearly pointless.

“You’re gonna get it now!” he laughed breathlessly, carrying you into his bedroom and tossing you down on the bed before pouncing on you immediately, his hands going to your sides to tickle you mercilessly. He wouldn’t stop until you were gasping for air, begging him to give you a break, and even then, he kept his hand resting on your tummy as he fell to the side, grinning over at you. “You look like a mess, love.”

Giggling softly at the amused look on his face, you shook your head before crawling on top of him, straddling his torso before sitting down on his abdomen carefully, only eliciting a small release of air from him before he shifted just slightly to make it more comfortable. “You’re quite a dickhead, making fun of a drunk girl like this.”

His eye roll only made you laugh again, and he grabbed your hips, carefully scooting back so he could sit up and support himself on his elbows. “I feel no remorse, hard to feel bad when I get a pretty girl on my lap because of it.”

Your cheeks turned an even rosier color than the alcohol had already made them as you grinned, shaking your head before leaning down to kiss him gently, mumbling against his lips between kisses. “You’re such a flirt too.”

“Also no regret,” he quipped back calmly, resting a hand on the back of your neck and locking you into the kiss as he laid back on the bed again, taking you with him. Deepening the kiss eagerly, you made a happy noise as you felt the world spinning, half from the liquor and half from the feeling of Ben’s hands sliding up the back of your thighs to come and rest on your ass. When you pressed your ass back into his hands eagerly, he chuckled softly into the kiss, pulling away for a moment to mumble, “Someone’s excited.”

“Shut up, I’m drunk and my boyfriend is hot,” you mumbled right back, grinning before pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss, eliciting a groan from the back of his throat when you swirled your tongue around his, both of you tasting like tequila, while you left him with the taste of orange juice. The sound only made you more desperate to eliminate the layers of clothes between you, so you began tugging at the hem of his sweater, lifting it upwards and off when he reluctantly separated from the kiss and let you sit up.

He did the same with your shirt, tugging it up and off along with your bra before gazing up at you with a desirous glint in his eyes. The blown-out pupils scanned slowly up your torso as Ben chewed on his lower lip, just taking it all in. Shivering at the way his eyes devoured you, you had to finally distract him so he’d remember what he was doing – you circled your hips, grinding down against his increasingly hardening cock, which made his hands fly to your hips and catch them. You came to a stop with an impish grin on your face, and the playful look of disapproval in his face was quickly replaced by another look of lust when he rolled the two of you over, starting to work at the drawstring of the shorts you had on.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured, finally getting your shorts untied before tugging them off with your panties. His hand immediately moved between your legs, two fingers sliding up your folds as he grinned mischievously down at you as you squirmed slightly at the feeling, wanting his fingers inside of you. “You look so pretty right now, baby.”

“Ben, please,” you begged quietly, lifting your hips up against his touch and almost whining as he pulled his hand away, raising an eyebrow.

“Louder?”

“Damn it, Ben, please!” you repeated, pouting when he chuckled at the neediness in your voice. But his fingers returned to your pussy, rubbing your clit achingly slow and replacing the pouting look on your face with a look of relief. Eyelids fluttering closed, you let out a sigh of pure bliss as you relaxed into his touch, and you let out a soft moan of his name as he slid his middle finger into you, pumping it slowly.

As Ben finger-fucked you almost lazily slow, he pulled your legs over his shoulders one by one, laying stomach-down on the bed and trailing wet, open-mouthed love bites along the inside of your thighs. Then, the feeling of his mouth latching onto your clit made you moan out in surprise, and you ran a hand back through his damp blonde hair and giggled drunkenly as you remembered the water you’d left on the counter. “Fucking water,” you mumbled to yourself, pressing a hand to your forehead and laughing at how feverish you felt from the alcohol.

“Not funny,” he mumbled as he pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh, and you were prevented from making a smartass remark by the simultaneous addition of another finger to your pussy and Ben’s tongue pressing against your clit, then flicking against it rapidly.

“Ohmygod, nevermind, you’re so right,” you breathed out, and you could hear Ben snicker to himself before he attached his lips to your clit again, sucking hard and eliciting an embarrassingly whorish moan from you. “Fuck you,” you mumbled once you’d stopped seeing stars for the moment, Ben’s fingers curling up inside of you and making you whimper softly in pleasure.

“That’s the plan.” His comebacks were rapid-fire today, and you thanked everything holy that you’d been blessed with such a keeper as he moved his lips up to your tummy, trailing kisses all the way up to your breasts. He used a third finger to slowly stretch you out as he began to suck on the skin of one of your breasts, purposefully trying to leave a hickey as small moans and whines left your lips.

You were unable to control your vocalizations as his fingers thrust in and out of you, and you did whine needily as he retracted them, leaving you feeling empty again. But he was already off the bed, grabbing a condom from the nightstand as you sat up shakily on your elbows, glancing at his jeans and biting your lip. You’d barely helped him out at all, you were so drunkenly focused on your own pleasure. “Do you need me to-“

“Nope,” he replied, popping the p as he unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers and kicking them off as he revealed he was already completely hard. You raised an eyebrow as he crawled back between your legs, backing you up to the pillows and rolling the latex onto his cock. “Hate to admit it, but those little sounds you make when I eat you out? Drive me fucking bonkers, honestly.”

A wide grin crossed over your face, and he rolled his eyes playfully as he took you by your sides, flipping you over so you were facedown against the mattress. As you raised your hips a bit, Ben met you in the middle, sliding his condom-covered cock between your folds and biting his lip. “Aw, not gonna let me see you fuck me?” you whined, Ben groaning as he shook his head, lining himself up.

“God, no,” he muttered, sliding into you and making you moan out lowly as he filled you, digging his stocky, strong fingers into your hips to hold you still when he almost bottomed out. “Can’t stand seeing you that smug right now,” he teased, making you laugh weakly as you tried to focus on his voice, not the fact that he was nearly balls deep in you.

“What? You get to be smug when you win, but I-“

Ben didn’t give you the chance to finish as he pulled out, then snapped his hips back forwards again. That effectively shut you up, instead making you bury your face in a pillow so the entire world wouldn’t hear you moan loudly at the sudden sensation. “You’re such an ass,” you panted when you finally regained your senses, and Ben chuckled knowingly as he began to thrust again, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I know,” he replied quietly, his thrusts shaking his gravelly voice as he moved a hand to your hair, pulling it all into his hand as he fucked into you. The only thing keeping you on balance and stopping the room from spinning was the tight grip you had on the comforter, which was the only grounding presence at the moment besides Ben’s increasingly tight grip on your hair.

The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin and wanton moans as Ben took you from behind, your legs nearly failing to keep you up several times when his thrusts sped up or slowed down. When he sped up, he’d let out little curses and grunts in that deep tone of his as he pounded into you, but when he’d slow down, his deliberate, angled thrusts would nearly overwhelm your senses.

When a particularly deep thrust made you moan out his name loudly, an undying smirk graced Ben’s lips as he continued to bottom out in you, pleased with the way he was turning you into a moaning mess and also dangerously close to becoming a moaning mess himself. As he neared his orgasm, he’d started to push your face more and more into the mattress, your cheek forced into the soft expanse of the comforter as his thrusts got sloppier and more desperate.

“I fucking love you,” he mumbled out at one point, and you grinned before letting out something that was a mixture of a laugh and a moan, pressing your hips back to meet his thrusts eagerly.

“I love you too, Ben,” you replied as sweetly as you could muster – which was hard, considering the situation – and he rewarded you by reaching around you with his free hand to rub your clit, making you whimper and whine in pleasure. You were already teetering on the edge, and this was making it almost impossible to hold out any longer. “Shit, I’m close, babe.”

“Me too, fuckin’ hell,” he breathed out, speeding up his thrusts as much as he could and matching the pace with his hand. He let go of your hair, instead moving that hand back to your hip and squeezing it encouragingly. “Come for me, babygirl.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out as the dual stimulation became too much, and you felt your high take over as every nerve-ending in your body simultaneously felt like it was shocked with a high-voltage energy.

Ben bit his slightly swollen lip, trying to stave off his orgasm as long as he could, but the feeling of you clenching around him mixed with the sound of your breathy, high-pitched moans was too much, and he had to move his other hand to your hips to hold you to him as his hips stuttered. Buried inside of you, he released into his condom while groaning your name brokenly, digging his fingers into your hips. Halfway through, he pulled out, giving his cock a few quick pumps with his hand to finish himself off.

You were down off your high first, Ben close behind, and you could barely walk without wobbling as you climbed off the bed, making your way to the master bath and grabbing wet washcloths – one for him, one for you. You cleaned yourself up, then returned to the bedroom, slightly more sure that you weren’t going to fall over on the way back, and you tossed the washcloth to him. He’d already disposed of the condom, and he gladly accepted the towel before cleaning himself up, then pulling on his boxers.

You tugged his sweater and your panties on, crawling into bed and curling into his side as he joined you, pulling the covers over the both of you. You were still reasonably tipsy, and you giggled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, having already caught his breath.

“God, your stamina,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and shaking your head before nuzzling his neck, moving to lay halfway on top of him.

“As I said earlier,” he reminded you, wrapping his muscled arms around your waist and resting one of his hands on your ass, giving it a gentle pinch. “Confidence in my abilities. You should give it a try.”

“I should have confidence in your abilities?” you joked, only slurring your speech a bit, and Ben chucked before giving your hip a light pat as he shook his head.

“Well, that’s not what I meant. But that too.”

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[fluffyheretic]

I’m so fucking tempted to say “every single question with Kazushuu or Hitoshuu (except for the nsfw ones i guess)” But I don’t want to singlehandedly kill you

ok let’s do it

as a side note sometimes the answer is the same or similar for both ships just bc shuu is uh. the same person. but ofc not always

under cut for lengthhhh

1. Who makes the first move and how?

hitoshuu: normally im gonna say definitely hitori. he probably decides to be direct and just straight up ask. in iwasweetie au specifically tho i want it to be sweetie if only bc i need to make him get over his shit. he also asks “directly” but it actually involves a lot of stuttering and beating around the bush so it ends up not being very direct

shuukazu: im not sure if it would really be one of them specifically, i can see them as the “this kind of just happened” couple. maybe kazuaki is the one after several months whos like “so um… what are we…. lol………..”

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

hitoshuu: shuu, not that hitori is the paragon of confidence but shuus like “wtf hes the ideal young man and im Bastard Supreme but ok i guess”

shuukazu: BOTH LMAO but kazu is more vocal abt it and shuu is the Bottle Up EVERYTHING type

some good ol body positivity cuddle sessions work in both cases

3. Who is the most romantic?

anyone but shuu for obvious “i dont even know what feelings ARE” reasons

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

again anyone but shuu for obvious “i dont even know what intimacy IS” reasons but specifically hitori is just more confident and kazuaki isnt necessarily confident but is more just. shameless

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

not shuu for similar reasons as above. there’s a trend here, you see

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

THIS is a CHRISTIAN blog

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

hitoshuu: going to dinner at a place thats nice but not TOO nice. like good comfortable atmosphere and good food but not posh

shuukazu: they probably just wander around, maybe go shopping, kazuaki keeps pointing out stuff he wants and dr iwamine “i dont know what to do with my money bc i dont want for material things” shuu just buys it for him. shuu please stop enabling him. stop it.

8. What do they like in bed?

hitoshuu: cuddling :)

shuukazu: snuggling :)

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

i feel like shuu considers every single new couple-y thing he does to be the new most embarrassing thing he’s done. we’re holding hands? embarrassing. i kissed you? god now THATS embarrassing. you caught me wearing your sweater that you accidentally left at my place? well put me in the fucking ground thats literally the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to anybody. how dare i show sentimentality. despicable

kazuaki is similar in that he’s constantly one-upping himself and getting a NEW most embarrassing thing but his things include stuff like getting caught watching really strange anime and scream-singing pop songs and anime OPs in the shower

hitori probably like tripped on the sidewalk once

10. What two songs, two books and two luxury items do they take to a desert island?

these questions are difficult bc man idk what media exists in 2188 bird japan

11. What do they hide from one another?

in both cases shuus answer is “just about everything” hes terrified of the mortifying ordeal of being known. pretty much everything you learn about him has to be squeezed out

hitori hides how troubled he really is because he wants to seem like the responsible one everyone can depend on so that they dont have to worry about him. he does his best to hide when hes struggling but since shuu has that exact same impulse they pretty quickly start to see through each other, but are also very understanding about it.

kazuaki probably doesnt have as much to hide but he might be shy about portraying how REALLY in love with shuu he is too soon because he doesnt want to scare him away. he also hides the weirder shows and games and stuff that hes into lol

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

hitoshuu: i can see them having that kind of relationship where at first its casual and almost competitive in a way, like a “i think youre sexy and the only thing i know to do about it is see what i can do to make you flustered, then act smug when i succeed” thing. but over time when the novelty of that starts to wear off they both kinda realize they just straight up like each other and start being more genuine and soft.

shuukazu: again its a similar thing with shuu where he starts feeling more comfortable with letting himself be a little more genuine and START opening up. kazuaki picks up on this as a good sign and starts to worry less about trying to impress shuu and more just enjoying their time together.

13. When do they realize they should get together?

this is another one that i think is a similar answer in both cases, at least for shuu’s part he has a “dammit. i cant lose him” moment. since hes a person of very few words he tries to communicate “i want us to be serious” via letting down his walls a little bit, which hitori/kazuaki hopefully notice is happening and then are like “oh maybe we can work”

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

for shuu and hitori its “responsibly take care of you, bc its what i should do but also secretly i get STRESSED AS FUCK when someone i care about is sick so i gotta make sure youre okay”

for kazuaki its “take care of you, although i dont really know what im doing, also i thought since youre bedridden we could cuddle but its not as enjoyable as i wanted so like I’m Here but also im gonna watch tv okay? ill get u crackers and ginger ale”

15. When they watch a film what do they choose and why? Who gets the final vote?

hitoshuu: shuu’s gonna say he doesn’t care, but hitori also doesn’t really care so eventually he’ll get shuu to admit that he’d like to watch a nature documentary. especially if it’s marine-themed. hitori likes that too so hey there you go

shuukazu: shuu WILL watch the 76th pokemon movie OR ELSE

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

hitoshuu: both are cutthroat bastards that do anything it takes to keep each other safe. their reliance and trust in each other is probably 99% of what keeps them going.

shuukazu: again shuus gonna do literally anything it takes to keep kazuaki safe, but to be real i dont know if kazuaki is making it out of this one. and if he doesnt then shuus not either.

17. When they find a time machine, where do they go?

shuu’s answer is going to be at various points in prehistory to study organisms that are now long-extinct (side note god thats definitely my answer too). his bf is worried abt the dangers but comes with him to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.

i think hitori might not have anything specific in mind but going to historical sites in their heydays seems like a good choice.

since kazuaki likes literature he’d probably want to see historical stuff related to that, like seeing shakespeare plays when they first came out and meeting his favorite dead authors to ask them questions.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

hitoshuu: hitori doesn’t like to dance around that kind of thing, after a little time has passed for them to both think about it then he’ll just be direct and say “hey lets talk about that thing that happened” if he feels he was in the wrong then he’ll then follow that up with an apology. i can see hitori being a little grudgy but then quickly getting tired of it and just wanting things to be resolved. shuu hates talking things out because hes bad at it but he knows its best so he’ll just try to explain how he felt at the time but also what he’s considered since then. even if he’s not good at explaining himself, hitori is good at understanding him anyway so they usually work it out pretty quickly.

shuukazu: they can be messier since kazuaki gets really emotional really quickly and sometimes says things he doesnt mean. theyre both bad at dealing with it afterwards though until after a few awkward days, kazuaki cant take it and is like “waaa i dont want us to be fighting anymore 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺” and shuus like “ok.” because yeah he’ll take the easy way out. they could probably improve their communication tbh

19. Where do they go on their first date?

hitoshuu: they probably decide to do something simple and casual to make it less awkward so they just get coffee. shuu feels like, from what he knows, that he should be expecting hitori to make a move on him. hitori doesnt because he wants to be considerate of shuus comfort level, but shuu takes it as a sign of disinterest. luckily shuu realizes hes wrong about that when hitori quickly invites him on Another date where they take a stroll in the park, and thats when hitori goes in for the tactical hand-hold maneuver.

shuukazu: kind of the opposite of hitoshuu in that they dont really declare it officially as a date. kazuaki just asks shuu if he wants to see a movie with him, not really calling it a date but kind of implying it to be one. shuu probably doesnt care about the movie but thinks this might possibly maybe be a date so he should go. kazuaki then uses it as a chance to Put On The Movies, as awkward as that might be, including the classic “stretch with my arms up and then let one down over your shoulders” move. shuu doesnt really know how to indicate his own interest in response but hopes the fact that hes also not complaining in any way gives a hint. despite it not REALLY being an official date at the time, later on theyll look back on it and decide that yeah that was their first date.

20. Where do they go on holiday?

shuu hates taking time off work, but if he must, then he’ll be content as long as theres something scientifically interesting there like a museum or an aquarium.

hitori doesnt really mind where they go, hes just grateful to get to go on holiday at all, so he’ll let shuu pick. and again, that’s going to be somewhere with a natural history museum, probably a very nice one and they’ll both enjoy it.

kazuaki is similar in that he’s just happy to be there but his ideal holiday destination is probably just…. akihabara. so shuu relents and goes there with him occasionally. kazuaki does like to visit aquariums with shuu though! they do both

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

hitoshuu: the cemetery, at least at first when they arent used to being that vulnerable in front of each other

shuukazu: well shuu sure as shit is nervous about going to anime cons with kazu

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

in both cases, definitely at one of their homes, because shuus too much of a wreck to have a moment like that in a public place.

for shuukazu, i picture it that theyre just hanging out at kazuakis place and relaxing, and they end up cuddling a lot, and kazuaki kisses him kind of impulsively. hes then very apologetic about it before shuu manages to assure him that its fine.

hitoshuu, maybe hitori walks shuu home after a date and goes for the classic end of date goodbye kiss, but just on the cheek. then when once again hitori has walked shuu home, shuu wonders if he should expect a real kiss this time, but hitori goes for the cheek again. shuus disappointed and grabs hitoris sleeve before he turns away because he doesnt know how to say he wants more. but hitori takes the hint and kisses him for real this time.

23. Where is their favorite place to be together?

in both cases it’s at home, because shuu finds it much easier to be intimate when they’re in privacy. i think all three of them really appreciate just getting to relax together.

24. Where do they first have sex?

what did i say about this being a christian blog

25. Why do they fight?

usually its because shuu said something a little too tactless. hes not so clueless that he’ll say something really obviously offensive, but sometimes he really doesn’t know what’s too much. but his bf is hopefully understanding of this and corrects him Still Firmly but still with some “but i know you didnt mean it like that, we’re okay” way, because chances are he really didnt.

for hitoshuu specifically, hitori has to be on shuu about eating properly and can sometimes get kind of annoyed about it. shuus kneejerk reaction is to then be offended because hes an adult who can take care of himself. but they calm down and make up when shuu remembers that hitori just worries for him, and hitori remembers that shuu doesnt not eat just to spite him.

for shuukazu, i can see kazuaki’s lack of responsibility and aloofness start to get on shuu’s nerves, and when he brings it up kazuaki thinks he’s just being mean. again, similarly to hitoshuu, they get over it when kazuaki reminds himself that shuu wants him to be able to take care of himself, and shuu reminds himself as well that he can be too abrasive and should work on it.

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?

hitoshuu: they dont have to right away but over time it would be good for them to be honest abt their respective traumas and the shit theyre dealing with instead of hiding it

shuukazu: similar, shuu should probably get around to being more open abt his shit. they might also want to have a talk abt what a serious relationship is gonna look like for them

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

hitoshuu: i answered this already! but again, its bc theyre so ~responsible~

shuukazu: ppl either see kazuaki being super clingy and think “man hes so overbearing, his poor partner 😒” or see shuu being emotionless and think “man theyre so cold, their poor boyfriend 😒” actually they gotta mind their own damn business

28. Why do they get jealous?

hitoshuu: i feel like hitori actually gets hit on a pretty decent amount. shuu is never happy about it, but the death glares he starts sending usually scare the person off anyway

shuukazu: both of them think the other is too good for them so if anyone looks at them with even a little too much interest the other is immediately like “well i guess this is it”

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

hitoshuu: little moments shuu loves is when hitori asks him how he is, how he slept. when he makes him dinner. hitori loves when shuu looks deep in thought, tucks his hair behind his ear, and he definitely likes to see him get along with nageki, which he does.

shuukazu: shuu loves when kazuakis eyes light up with excitement when he sees something he likes, especially when shuu realizes that hes one of those things too. he also loves kazuakis really nice hugs, especially when shuu just woke up from a nightmare. kazuaki loves how shuu listens to him intently, and asks questions about the things hes interested in, and sometimes rests his hand on him when hes getting tired.

30. Why does it work (or not work) between them?

hitoshuu: both are important figures in each other’s lives, obv shuu helped nageki but also hitori is probably the first person to get even a little close to shuu after ryuuji died. theyre both just pockets of trauma but are doing their best so it would be good for them to support each other and try to heal. theyre both pretty dependable so when the going gets tough they’re each other’s rocks

shuukazu: theyre definitely the “it will never work” couple that ends up working anyway. shuu might think kazuaki is annoying at first but if ryuuji is any indication shuu definitely seems to gravitate towards people who are more chill and even a little silly, and when shuu realizes that kazuaki isnt as dumb as he makes himself seem that helps a lot. for kazuaki shuu definitely has a ~mysterious~ aspect that draws him in initially but when it wears off as he learns more about shuu, instead of the magic being gone he just starts finding him more relatable and endearing so their relationship actually improves.

[thethespacecoyote]

Did someone order more sad modern AU BenArmie? No? Too bad. 

Done for more Bad Things Happen Bingo! For “Hidden Scar” because that’s a whole load of angst fodder. Warning because this references some past and current abuse Armitage’s suffered thanks to his dad. 

Ben walks out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, just in time to hear his phone vibrate against his desk. Puzzled, he steps over the backpack strewn across the floor and snatches it up, checking the illuminated screen to find a text from Armie.

>>> 10:47pm

are you awake?

It’s not too weird to hear from him this late at night, especially on a weekend. He and Armie text all the time, chatting about school or movies or nonsense, really. But it’s better than nothing, and Ben has few other friends he can talk with outside of classes and extracurriculars.

>>>10:48pm

sure am whats up

Ben cradles his phone in his palm as he sits on the bed, towel still draped over his thighs. The rain that’s been lashing his neighborhood all evening seems to have lessened to a trickle in the past hour, though the night outside still looks pretty cold and miserable.

His phone buzzes once more.

>>>10:48pm

would it be alright if i came over?

It’s not necessarily unusual for Armie to come over, even so late in the evening. Considering it’s the weekend, it’s even less strange, though usually they plan it out beforehand. Ben has nothing better to do, however, and having Armie over would certainly brighten a fairly dully and rainy night.

>>> 10:49pm

yeah sure lemme know when ur here

Ben tosses the phone back on the bed and rises, figuring he has a moment to get ready. He rummages through his chest of drawers for a pair of sweatpants, tying them low about his hips. His phone lights up with another notification, and he picks it back up.

>>>10:52pm

im outside. can i come up?

Outside? Already? Their houses were at least twenty minutes apart, and Armie didn’t even own a car. He had a bike but that wouldn’t shave off that much time. So how was he here?

Ben glances to his window, where droplets of water still cling and glimmer in the moonlight. At least it’d stopped raining. He hopes Armie hasn’t been waiting that long.

>>>10:53pm

one sec

Ben looks around his room, suddenly conscious of the mess. If he leaves things like this he won’t hear the end of it, so he scurries about, trying to do some last minute clean-up. He scrapes loose shirts and jeans and socks off the floor and stuffs them into the closet, before tossing couple old receipts and empty snack wrappers that’ve accumulated onto his desk into the garbage. He rolls his free weights towards the walls, getting them out of the way so Armie won’t trip on them.

Finally he pulls on a tank and hoodie, tousling his still wet hair as he heads out of his room and downstairs. He pads quietly through the house, knowing which floorboards to avoid, which doors to treat especially gently lest they creak. Both his parents should be sound asleep but it’s best not to take chances. He doesn’t want them sending Armie home if he’s already made the trip here.

He prowls to the front door and unlocks it as quietly as he can, peeking out onto the porch. The dim orange light just barely illuminates where Armie paces dully on the bottom steps with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He stops in his tracks and looks up when the door opens, hopping up onto the porch like a lost animal waiting for food.  

Ben thinks it’s weird he isn’t wearing a jacket, or really anything to protect him from the cold apart from a dark grey turtleneck. He can see Armie shivering, hair lightly dusted with dew, and wishes he’d brought one of his hoodies down to wrap around him. Good thing it’s warm inside the house.

“Hey.” Ben waves awkwardly, not sure what else to do with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“S’okay,” Armie mumbles, arms squeezing tighter around himself. Ben stands aside to let him in, quickly closing the door behind them. His eyes fall to Armie’s back and thinks it might be good to put his hand there so he can guide his friend through the dark inside the house, but he stops himself and instead rubs the back of his neck.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you,” Armie admits, hunching his shoulders inwards as he adapts to the sudden warmth. “That’s fine, right?”

“Oh yeah. Just gonna have to explain to mom and dad in the morning.” Ben leads the way back to the staircase, stopping only briefly to nod towards the kitchen.

“You hungry or anything? We probably can’t turn on the stove or microwave without waking the parents but there’s probably some snacks or something. If you want.”

Armie shakes his head.

“No…can we just go up to your room?”

“Sure.” Ben’s still full from dinner anyway, he just wants to make sure Armie actually eats. He knows he has a tendency to skip meals for studying, or just because he forgets.

He hopes Armie won’t notice how messy his room is, as despite the earlier manic cleanup Ben knows it’s really not up to his friend’s standards. Armie’s space back at his house looks crisp and tidy, almost barely lived-in—a real contrast to Ben’s chaotic den, walled in by music posters and lit by only one lamp.

“You want me to turn something on? It’ll be fine as long as I keep the volume low.” Ben gropes for the remote on the desk when Armie hums in vague agreement, sinking down besides the other boy as he flicks on the television. Ben flips around until finding some older-looking movie he feels Armie might like. From the amount of gray men in suits that walk into frame it’s probably one of those political thriller films from the forties he’s always trying to get Ben to watch.

Well. No time like the present. Armie seems a little off, so hopefully this will cheer him up.

But when Ben looks over to him, he finds Armie’s not looking at the screen, eyes instead downcast upon where his hands fold in his lap. He hasn’t really reacted at all since sitting down, not to the television or Ben’s presence.

Concern worries in his stomach but Ben knows better not to pry when Armie’s shut off like this. They’ve been friends for years but he’s still pretty private, and tends to react fairly negatively when Ben tries to get past his walls. The only real fights they’ve ever had stemmed from that, so Ben’s learned to back off whenever Armie’s sending out serious “don’t talk to me” vibes.

Still, he can’t help but wonder where this all comes from. They’ve been friends for years but Ben doesn’t know all that much about his home life or what happened before he moved to town. Hell, Ben’s been to his house a handful of times and he’s still never met Armie’s stepmom nor any other member of his family apart from his dad

Ben’s not a fan of Brendol Hux, so he’s not quite complaining that he hardly gets a chance to visit Armie at home.

He leans back, propping himself up as he half-watches the roundtable of suits arguing on the television, wondering if he should say something but not sure what. Armie remains still, sitting on the edge of the bed with his fingers rubbing the hem of his sweater. But just as Ben opens his lips to break the silence Armie suddenly leans back and turns to rest his head against his shoulder.

Ben’s heart jumps in surprise at the sudden contact, expecting Armie to excuse this kind of intimacy like he usually does, but he stays quiet and only turns his nose against Ben’s shoulder, inhales like minute kisses against the fabric of his hoodie.

Ben watches, a little stunned. He’s never seen Armie this openly affectionate before. He’s pretty aloof about physical contact, though Ben’s got him to open up a little more in recent years. But definitely not enough for this degree of friendly cuddling. Or so he thought.

Ben wonders if something’s caused this change of heart—as well as the unexpected late night visit.

But he’s not exactly in the mood to rebuke it. Really Ben’s long pined for this kind of closeness with Armie, to fill in the last space missing in their friendship He tilts his chin down, watching the reflection of the television play across Armie’s pale skin. He can tell he’s still not watching the movie all that closely, but that hardly matters when they’re cuddled up like this.

Ben inhales slowly, careful not to disturb his resting friend too much, though the pounding of his heart might’ve already done so.

Wow. Armie’s hair smells nice. Ben hopes that’s not too weird to think that, as it’s just hard not to notice when he’s leaning against him. He turns his head slightly, inhaling the sweet scent and trying to figure out what exactly it is. Lemon, and maybe a hint of something more herbaceous.  

He doesn’t ask, honestly a little afraid to hear what Armie might say if he did. Instead, he just starts combing through his hair—at first just barely, his fingertips dipping through the feathery ginger locks like he’s afraid he might spook him. But Armie doesn’t pull away, or even comment on how Ben’s touching him. He doesn’t stiffen or twitch, only relaxing against him as Ben lightly skates his fingers against his scalp.

Soon he’s stroking through Armie’s hair properly, loving how soft it feels against his palm, how his friend almost melts against him. Just like a cat, Ben thinks with a smile, remembering the time they’d encountered a stray while walking home from school. It’d happened way back in middle school. Armie had convinced him to use his jacket to wrap up the poor thing once they’d coaxed her out from beneath a rain-soaked bush, insisting he couldn’t use his own blazer to keep the cat warm. Ben hadn’t complained, more amused by the stray’s orange coat and how closely it matched Armie’s fiery hair than upset about his sodden jacket.

He remembers they gave the cat away once she was nursed back to health. Armie had grown quite fond of her, but argued his father would never approve of a pet. Ben would’ve taken her if not for the fact that his dad already owned a dog that didn’t exactly get along well with other animals.

He knows Armie still wants a cat. Maybe someday when he moves out of his dad’s house he can have one.

Ben almost loses himself in the soothing brush of Armie’s hair. His fingers now thread at the locks close to the top of his head, properly petting him. Armie feels so loose and weightless against him, completely relaxed and trusting Ben as he touches him.

Elation fills his chest, and Ben can’t stop himself from smiling. It feels right to keep close to Armie like this, to comfort him through whatever’s going on, because something always seems to be going on with him. He wishes Armie would open up a little more sometimes and let Ben know what he’s feeling but this—this is good. This is a start.

Then his finger brushes against something strange on his friend’s scalp.

Ben pauses for a moment, fingertips feeling out the edge of something firm and raised out of Armie’s skin. But as he tries to touch more of it, lips parting in confusion, Armie tenses and jerks away from his shoulder. Ben catches a glimpse of his friend’s wide eyes and trembling lip before Armie pushes himself up off the bed. He clenches both his fists, voice hurried and wavering as he speaks.  

“I—I have to go, this was a mistake—“

Ben’s up in a flash, longer stride quickly putting him right up behind Armie, who’s trying to grasp the doorknob with shaky hands. He doesn’t quite get it turned before he’s pulling on it, jolting the door against the jamb andsending a shudder through the house that might wake up Ben’s parents. Fear jolts through the teen’s chest, and he reaches out.

“No, Armie, wait—“

Ben grabs his wrist and pulls without thinking. To his horror Armie reacts instantly, a muted cry ringing from his throat, like it’s hurt him. Ben instantly lets him go but instead of running away Armie shrinks down, arms wrapping back around his chest.

There’s some kind of shootout scene ringing on the television, the beginnings of climactic showdown between the enemy spy and the hero flashing across the carpet as Ben quickly kneels at Armie’s side, hands floating above his shoulders. He doesn’t know what to do, or whether the labored breathing wracking his friend’s body is all his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ben stammers out the apology, struggling to find the right words. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so s—“

“N-No, no. You didn’t. You don’t have to be…” Armie clears his throat, voice returning with just a shred more composure. “I’m sorry. That…that was uncalled for.”

He tries to sit up straight, expression sudden fallen with shame at the outburst. Ben can see the wear on his face with alarming clarity now. The sallow cheeks, the bruises under his eyes and—most alarming of all—a puffy  little cut on the slope below his chin.

“I really should leave. You’re not—you don’t have to deal with me.” Armie babbles as he turns away from Ben’s gaze. His fingers anxiously stroke through his hair, trying to push the mussed locks back into their usual place.

“Don’t, please.” Ben still hesitates placing his hand on Armie’s shoulder, or anywhere else, no matter how much he wants to.

“I shouldn’t have touched you there. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know…whatever it was…I didn’t know it would freak you out so much.” He doesn’t know if any of his apologies will help get Armie to believe him, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Gradually, Armie sits back off his knees, though his arms stay guarded around his body. He rubs his hands along the bend of his elbows, like he’s still cold despite sitting in the musty warmth of the bedroom. Ben’s heart pangs as the fabric of Armie’s sweater pulls along the thinness of his limbs.  

“It’s okay…I didn’t even think about it…It felt so nice for you to…” Armie trails off into silence, letting his eyes flutter shut. Outside the rain has started, beating a soft tattoo against the house. The movie too has reached a lulling denouement, the sounds of polished professional voices fading as Ben focuses his full attention on Armie.

He doesn’t know what’ll happen now, what he should say or do. He realizes Armie probably wants to let it go, bury it away like he always does and never speak of it again. But Ben can’t stop thinking about that thing—that scar on his head, hidden under the beguiling locks of hair.

How long has it been there?

“I just—,“ he swallows past the tightness in his throat that’s grown in the silence, “—want to help you if I can. If you need to—I mean—”

“Ben.” Armie shakes his head with a dead chuckle. “You don’t want to know about what happens.”

“But I do. If you want to tell me I—I’ll listen.” Ben finally pushes past his own hangups and reaches out, resting his hand on his friend’s knee. “I promise.”

Armie leans back against the bedroom door, shoulders rising with a weighty breath. His lips tighten together, a last ditch effort to hold back what threatens to spill out of him. Ben scoots a little closer, palm rubbing down Armie’s thigh, hoping his presence is helpful.

“My—my father has this damned ring. From his military days. Big old gaudy thing.” Armie emphasizes the shape with his hand. “Engraved and solid. He likes to wear it on his forefinger, fidget it over the knuckle.”

Ben vaguely remembers something like that from the few times he’s encountered Brendol, though he never took much notice of the specifics. The man’s a arrogant windbag, dressed with like he thinks he’s some the last beacon of aristocracy in the modern day. Always looking down his nose at those around him, even his own son—like gaudy jewelry and a pompous attitude makes him the better man.

“Things weren’t great when I was younger,” Armie continues, voice just above a drone. “I mean, they’re not great n—well, they were worse back then, right after he married my stepmother. They fought a lot. Sometimes I got in the way.”

Ben’s stomach sinks, but he dare not stop Armie, even though he dreads where this is leading. He watches as his friend swallows harshly, expression trembling.  

“I don’t remember much of it, but I know that he hit me when I tried to get them to stop once. He got so angry he…punched me in the head.” Armie mimes the action with a numb fist. “Just…like he didn’t care what might happen to me after.”

Anger flares up inside Ben at the confirmation of his worst fears, calling all sorts of terrible images to the forefront of his mind. His Armie, just a kid, indifferently assaulted by his own father. He’s always found Brendol Hux unpleasant, the tension Ben senses between him and his son all but confirmed whenever Armie complains about him. But he would’ve never guessed that the animosity ran that horribly deep.  

Armie lifts his hand to the side of his head, where Ben had found the scar, fingers twitching as if afraid to touch it, as if it still hurts him.

“I needed stitches. I was only five, and I needed thirteen stitches for what he did to me,” Armie spits.

Ben feels sick with rage. He’d only felt the edge of the ragged skin, the healed-over evidence of Armie’s pain. It must extend even further along his scalp, an inescapable reminder of what his father did to him.

“And that wasn’t the first time he did it. Or—“ Armie’s chest hitches, fists clenching in his lap. “—or the last.”

He leans his head back against the bedroom door, finally looking Ben’s in the eyes. Despite his efforts to come his hair back earlier it’s fallen across his forehead once more, looking thin and lifeless.

“Ben, it’s—it’s never going to stop, is it?” Armies voice cracks out of the dull monotone, pain and frustration finally bleeding out as tears start to collect in his already reddened eyes. “If it hasn’t stopped by now, it’s not ever going to. Not until one us of dies.”

He palms his forehead, teeth gritting around his weak sobbing.

“I wish he was dead, why can’t he just die and leave me alone?” Armie gasps, his entire body shaking as tears crawl down his cheeks.

Ben’s never seen him cry, and it hurts. It’s not like that kind of healing crying, nor tears brought about by moments of great joy. It’s frustrated and crumbling Armie down right in front of him. It’s a cry for help.

In that moment Ben’s hands itch for a fight, for anything to help him deal with the sudden furious energy rolling through his body. He feels like he could scream and throw things, maybe even march to the Hux household through the rain and beat Brendol’s face in until the storm gutters ran with blood—

—but Armie needs him. He needs Ben’s comforting presence. Not his boundless anger, or his need for vengeance.

Those will come later, when they’re rested and clear-thinking and ready to make a plan.

“Hey, shh. C’mon, don’t cry.” Ben tries to keep his voice even, to push away the rage that bubbles up for his friend’s sake. “You’re going to be alright.”

Armie snorts through his tears, disbelieving, but Ben leans in and wraps his arms around him before he can protest. He holds him close, one hand around Armie’s waist with the other pressed against the back of his head, pulling him away from the door and letting him rest against his shoulder. Ben feels him sniffle, body shivering as it slowly relaxes in his grasp.

Armie’s so much slighter than him, less bulked out with brawn—but Ben suddenly feels he’s the strongest person he’s ever met.

“I…” Ben starts, his own voice feeling roughed and hard to command as it brushes against the side of Armie’s head. “…I’m really glad you. Y’know. Came here tonight.”

It feels like a lame, inadequate thing to say after Armie’s spilled his guts out to him, but Ben can’t think of anything else. He really is grateful that his friend is here, somewhere safe and away from the monster who calls himself his father. If Ben could, he’d keep Armie here for as long as he wanted to stay. He’d never have to go back to that house where Brendol could keep hurting him.

Armie sniffs, rubbing his face against Ben’s hoodie, before carefully pulling away. Despite the tears, he looks a little better now, even managing a weak smile that goes right to Ben’s heart. He wipes at his nose with his sleeve, letting out a soft sigh.

“I probably look a mess…sorry.”

“You really, really don’t have to apologize,” Ben stresses. “It’s late. And you look real good anyway.” Armie gives him a strange glance at the admission, but Ben quickly changes the subject.

“You wanna sleep in that,” he whispers as he rubs the shoulder of Armie’s sweater, “or do you need something else to change into?”

“Uh…I’m not sure any of your clothes would fit me…” Armie sniffs, even mustering a small laugh as he presumably envisions what Ben’s closet full of hoodies and baggy jeans might look like on him.

“Well you’ll just be sleeping in them, not going to meet the Queen for tea.” Ben affects a weak impression of Armie’s accent, hoping it’ll earn him more of that smile. It does get Ben a slight, amused eye-roll which is—all things considered—close enough.

“C’mon.” He helps Armie up off the floor, guiding him back to the bed to sit. “I’ll grab you something.”

Ben scrounges in his closet, finding a pair of pajama pants he’d gotten for one Christmas and never tried on, as well as the least worn of his collection of black graphic shirts. He gives it a quick sniff, before deciding it’s clean enough for Armie to wear and holds it out to him.

“Here.”

Armie takes the clothes with only a little bit of skepticism. Ben shrugs sheepishly, smoothing his hair back.

“They’re not that bad, right?”

“Someone needs to teach you how to do laundry one of these days,” Armie tsks, even as his fingers brush affectionately over the clothing. “It’s better than nothing,” he adds after a moment.

“That’s practically a compliment from you. Now go get changed before you fall asleep in your slacks.” Ben sends him off to the adjoining bathroom, before deciding to clean up the bed a little bit more. He pulls out a pillow wedged between the mattress and the wall, fluffing it up along with the rest before brushing the covers flat and grabbing an extra blanket folded up under the bed.  

By the time he’s finished things up the bathroom light clicks off behind him. Ben turns around to see Armie crouching in the doorway, gingerly setting his old clothes and damp loafers upon the floor before shuffling towards him.

Both the shirt and pajama pants hang off his skinny frame, making Armie look a lot smaller than he actually is and—honestly?—pretty adorable. Ben’s almost thankful for the dim light in his room, because otherwise Armie might see him blushing.

“Not half bad.” Ben nods his approval, patting the covers beside him. “This could be a new look for you. We could match.”

Armie rolls his eyes and comes to sit on the bed, the cuffs of the pants pooling over his bare feet.

“I wouldn’t dare. The world doesn’t need two Ben Solos on its hands.” He smirks, before reclining back against the bed. Armie stays that way for a couple moments, chest rising and falling gently with his breath, before pulling his legs up onto the bed and curling onto his side. His hair splays out slightly over Ben’s dark bedcovers, contrast making it more vibrant. He looks so soft, so vulnerable lying in Ben’s bed, and when Armie’s eyes lift up and lock with his he’s sure his blush could glow through even the deepest darkness.

Ben shuts off the television, now playing the end of the movie’s credits, before lying down besides the other boy. Ben faces him, only a moment of doubt flickering between them before he reaches out and pulls Armie in close. Ben would’ve never dared to hold him like this before tonight, too afraid of how his friend might respond—but it feels like their relationship has shifted a little bit, at least to warrant a deeper sort of intimacy. A crack in Armie’s hardened armor has opened, and Ben fits into it perfectly.

The rain continues outside, drawing glistening patterns against the window. It looks and sounds cold, and Ben wonders if it’ll continue into the next day or break once morning dawns, showing the sun through the clouds.

He nudges his nose into Armie’s hair, hand brushing over his back and feeling the slope of his body beneath his palm. He still smells of citrus and herbs, a bright aromatic spot in the dark musk of the bedroom. Even half-sleep and clad in Ben’s spare clothing, he brightens up the space between them.

Ben curls around his best friend, the person he cares most for in his life, slipping their legs together beneath the blankets. He feels he might be pushing his luck but he wants to be as close to Armie as possible, keeping him shielded and safe from everything out there that wants to hurt him.

It’s all Ben can do for now.

[theyrejustadream-away]

Soulmate!Jimin

Park Jimin; fluff

Happy late birthday Jimin! We love you! 

Word count: 1769

Alright yall welcome to my first official bullet scenario

Let’s see how this goes

Ok anyways

It’s Jimin’s birthday and I wanna do something special for him

I hope he gets better,, i know it isn’t serious but still

And the whole soulmate AU is something i love wholeheartedly and i want to write one

Let’s get it (imagine jungkook saying that)

So Jimin’s a junior in college

Jimin is pretty well known on campus for his dancing and although he isn’t as outgoing or social as Taehyung or Jungkook, he still is pretty popular

Mainly because he’s hot but

So being a junior, he basically knows most of the “secrets” on campus

Like where to hang out, study, eat breakfast, you name it and he’ll tell you

Oh yeah he’s such a sweetheart

Will walk you to where you need to go if it’s dark out

Carries your books if you look like you’re about to drop them

The whole “prince charming” deal, it’s understandable if hordes of girls chase after him

Who wouldnt, right?

Welp with the creation of the Soulmate System, it sorta gets rid of the idea of unnecessary crushes

Which seems sad BUT it reduces heartbreak and all the sad stuff that comes from failed relationships

So the way it works is that everyone has a black rectangle on the inside of their left wrist

And everytime they speak to their soulmate, the rectangle gets lighter and lighter until you can read the name

Of course there are flaws and your soulmate might have a different person on their wrist or you just never end up meeting them

But we aren’t gonna talk about that, this is going to be a happy one!!

Back to Jimin

As i was saying, he always knows what places to hit up

And of course, the only way to know this is if he goes there himself

One day, he finished his last class of the day and stepped outside only to get hit with a strong gust of wind and a sudden chill

Its F A L L

Which means cafes!! Warm drinks!! Sweaters!!

Once he composes himself and fixes his hair, he starts wandering through the city surrounding his college

After drifting from place to place, he finally spots a small coffee shop that’s hidden by a fancy department store

Like it’s literally right next to the store but it’s so minimalistic that you just dont really notice it

But he does!!

So he goes in and he’s just met with warmth and soft piano melodies coming from above and the smell of something sweet in the oven and he just melts

This is exactly what he needs

Walking up to the counter, he looks at the menu and decides to get something simple

Because if this place cant make a good cappuccino then it fails in his eyes

Speaking of eyes

As he was collecting his change from the cashier, you just happened to walk in for your shift

And boy did his heart do a weird thing in his chest and he just couldnt take his eyes off of you

Honestly you were just in your uniform (white button down, navy apron, dark pants, hair up) and not in the best of moods because you may or may not have forgotten to turn on the alarm and was late for your first class

Always double check your alarms friends

Basically you were just not looking your best at the moment

But did Jimin think that?

N O PE

The poor boy almost left his wallet at the counter because he just couldnt stop looking at you

Although that may sound creepy at first, it was more of a ‘who is this angel in front of me’ stare with eyes bright and shining to the point where it was just endearing

That didnt stop the person behind him from coughing and letting him know that there is a full line right behind him ohmygod jimIN MOVE

You, on the other hand, didn’t notice a thing and went to your station where you made drinks and call out people’s names and all that jazz

He picked a seat near the back of the cafe after he ordered, where he had a view of everything

And by everything, i mean you

“She’s so pretty wow i want to talk to her but what if she thinks im weird??? What would i even say? How would i eve-”

“Jimin? Your order is ready”

“Ohmygod she said my name what do i do??”

“Jimin? Is there a Jimin here?”

“Ye-Yes!”

His voice cracks and he feels his face heat up

Gone is the charming and confident Jimin

Hello to the shy and clumsy Jimin

The poor boy almost spills his drink because he’s nervous and his voice already cracked and you’re giggling

Bless your soul for trying to hide it behind your hand and spare him the embarrassment

But you laughing isn’t helping because now he’s even more red and thinking ‘wow your laugh is so cute can you literally get any more adorable’

“Does coffee make you this nervous?”

“No, it’s the cute girl giving it to me”

He’s thankful that he didn’t embarrass himself anymore and somewhat recovered

Because now you’re the blushing one (he’s still a little pink from before but he decided he enjoys seeing you flustered more than anything)

Eventually he had to leave because wow it’s late and he still has homework to do

So he sadly walks out, taking a glance at where you were working but you were busy with another customer so you didn’t see him look at you

BUT he comes back almost everyday just to see you

It does a number on his wallet but hey, who needs money when you’re in college, right?

I’m kidding being a college kid is so expensive ohmygod

Everytime he comes by, he always tries to make you blush or laugh

Maybe at the same time

He just wants to get to know you better because you’re a really sweet person and he has this urge to hold your hand or hug you or kiss you but he pushes it down

At the same time, the mark on the inside of his wrist has been getting lighter and lighter

He can faintly make out the name hidden and he oh so desperately wants it to be you

You, on the other hand, could read the name on your wrist

Guess what?

It says Jimin!

You were so happy the day you found out

And when you saw him the next day you were just !!!!!!!

But he didn’t say anything about it.. Not even a small hint to let you know he knew

So you were confused

Did he just not like you in that way?

Or even worse

What if you weren’t his soulmate?

You confided in your best friend once you got back home after seeing him

“He didn’t even mention the mark? What if it isn’t my name?”

“Does he know your name?”

“..I think he does?”

“Wait how are you not sure??? Haven’t you guys been talking for a month now?”

A few days passed and Jimin still doesnt know your name

But his wrist says ‘Y/N’ and he can’t remember anyone with that name

So he decides that today is the day he’ll ask you for your name

Because he’s also worried that he isnt your soulmate

You knew his name already, and if he was destined to be yours why hadn’t you told him?

Did you not like him?

He kept stressing over it for hours on end and his roommate finally told him to go out and ask

Although it was just to stop Jimin from pacing around their shared dorm and making his roommate dizzy from all his sudden movements

And being Jimin, he dresses up and styles his hair

To be honest, if you hadn’t already fallen for him then you definitely did when he walked through the doors

“If your man taking you out on a date, he looks hOT”

“Jackson shut up i swear i’m going to spill hot coffee on yo- hi Jimin!”

It all goes according to plan at first

He hasn’t embarrassed himself or had his voice crack

He goes and waits near you, and since there weren’t many customers you could talk to him without having another cranky customer yell at you

looking at you, old man who came in and ordered hot water. who even does that what it wrong with you

You were still a little upset that he hadn’t mentioned anything about his mark

But you acted as if nothing was wrong

So when he just says “What’s your name?” without even saying hi, your heart sort of knew what was going to happen before you did

It started beating faster and a smile was threatening to show but before you did anything dumb, you answered

“y/n… why?”

And he gives the brightest smile, like the Sun can fight me because Jimin’s smile outshines it in this very moment

“Because I think you’re meant to be mine”

Cue the various aww’s coming from your coworkers and that sweet old couple who’s been shipping the both of you ever since Jimin brought you a lily he saw on his way that ‘reminded him of you’

Jackson also starts screaming a little and jumping because finally you two pieced it altogether

Jackson knew ever since you asked him about your whole dilemma because once you took a sick day and he ended up talking to Jimin

And coincidentally saw Jimin’s wrist and went :D

But he couldn’t say anything because he wanted the both of you to reach that conclusion on your own

Still, it was really obvious that there was something there

Back to Jimin and you,,

As soon as he said that you ran around the counter and tackled him in a huge hug

Jimin didn’t see that coming but he caught you in time and he sort of stumbled back but who cares because ohmygod he finally gets to hug you

This is all he’s been dreaming of

He feels so warm and soft and smells a little like peppermint and you can hear his heart beating just as fast and yours and his whole body is shaking with laughter because he really can’t do anything other than smile and laugh

He’s hugging you tightly and everything felt right in the world

Jimin found his other half and you found yours too!

hope you enjoyed <3

[the-goddess-of-change]

''Please you got to come over...im sick and i need your help...please, you're my brother Nick'' Nick sighs and answers her back ''fine ill be there in 30 min sis...anything you need on the way ?'' ''No no, im fine, thank you brother'' ''okay, see you soon then sis'' 30 min later Nick looks at his sis who is lying on the sofa wrapped in a towel ''So..whats wrong with you ?'' Nick asks standing a decent distance away from her ''i dont know..my head hurts...my body hurts...im sick...'' ''Sounds like the flu....im not going near you Maya'' ''Can you at least get me something to drink ?'' ''that i can do, what do you want ?'' ''Water please and can you put some ice in it as well ?'' Nick nods and casually walks over to the kitchen and gets her a glass of water and some ice from the fridge and puts in the glass ''Here you go'' Nick puts the glass on the table and slowly pushes it over to Maya ''Thanks Brother'' ''So...was that all ? or is there something else ?'' ''You're being awfully rude right now. im sick and i need your help'' ''i was just messing around, what do you need ?'' Maya looks at Nick and sits up and takes a sip of her drink ''well...i got a huge meeting tomorrow at my job...but i cant make it...and i cant call in sick since this meeting is very important and can decide my future in the company'' ''Okay...and you get sick the day before ? that is not ironic at all but what can i do about that ?'' Maya looks at him and sighs ''i dont know...but i cant miss it but i cant go there...if i make them sick or just show up sick im going to get fired on the spot...they are very strict about that'' ''Cant you just reschedule it ?'' ''No...i cant, the men coming in are very powerful and they barely have enough time as it is...i was lucky to even get this chance to begin with...'' ''hmm....that is a shame....but maybe this is just the universe telling you no ?'' ''This isnt funny Nick! its my job, my life and my future here!'' ''Well then, tell me what you gonna do ?'' Maya cuddles up in the blanket and looks down at the floor ''i dont know....i dont know...''she starts to gently sob as Nick walks over and comforts her ''im sorry sis...you know im bad with this kinda stuff...i just dont deal well with...these harsh reality things..'' Maya wipes her eyes and looks at Nick ''i...its fine..you're here for me...'' ''im your big brother...im supposed to be there for you'' Nick smiles Maya smiles at Nick as he smiles back at her ''i can at least keep you company'' ''Thanks...there is some wine in the fridge if you want'' ''Red or white ?'' ''White wine...i get to tipsy from red'' Nick nods and walks over the fridge and gets out a glass of wine and pours himself a glass and walks back to the living room and sits down on the chair next to the sofa Nick picks up the remote and flips trough channels and takes a few sips of the drink ''S-stop...i wanna watch that'' Maya smiles as Nick puts down the remote as they both just look at the tv while Nick keeps pouring himself more wine Nick looks over at Maya who is just cuddling herself in the blanket watching TV while he's starting to feel the effects of the wine Nick Yawns and pours himself another glass then another and then another as Maya just keeps watching the TV ''Ah...damn...'' Nick slowly gets up from the chair and walks over to the bathroom and splashes some water on his face ''Fuck...damn that wine was good...'' staggers back to the living room and sits back down and finishes the bottle and looks over at Maya ''H-hey...i'm going to lie down in your bed a bit...call me if you need anything...30 min max'' Maya just smiles and nods as Nick walks over to Maya's bedroom and lies down on the bed After just a couple of minutes Nick has fallen asleep as Maya walks over and quietly opens the door and sneaks over to the bed and looks down at Nick just lying there ''I'm sorry Brother but...i need this...and you're the only one who can do it'' Maya coughs weakly and pours something down Nick's mouth Nick swallows it in his sleep and rolls around to the other side of the bed as Maya sneaks back out of the room and closes the door behind her While in deep sleep Nick is unaware of what Maya just did and just keeps going on dozing off While in a deep sleep Nick's body starts to change unbeknownst to him and while his body is going trough a change so does his mind and dreams Nick finds himself in in a what looks like to be a meeting room complete with a long table, some chairs and a large tv in the back of the room ''Huh ? okay...'' Nick looks around the room as it feels somewhat familiar for some reason ''oh right...this is where...Maya has her staff meetings...i remember meeting her one time'' Nick walks a bit around the room and moves a bit on the chair and looks at the tv where he can see a faint reflection of himself and notices some strange things looking back at him For one his short black hair looks longer and has a bit browner tone to the color Nick shrugs and just images its his dreams being weird due to the alcohol affecting his mind ''but why is there no people here ? if im here...it should be someone else as well'' Nick shrugs as a woman walks past the room and walks inside ''Hey ''....'' can you meet me in my office in 5 min?'' she says and walks away ''wait what...why did she just...stop talking while her mouth moved and just came back...'' Nick shrugs yet again and walks out of the room and walks over to the woman's office ''Okay so i need some help with a few things'' Nick nods and looks at her and scratches his hair and notices his nails looks more slim and like they'd just been filed ''So i need to you to hand these documents to Kevin then come back here'' ''Y-yes...okay'' Nick takes the documents from the woman and walks around looking for this Kevin's office as he remembers its one floor above Nick walks up the stairs and knocks on the door but no one replies inside so he slowly opens it and finds an empty office and just put the documents on the table and heads back down to the office he was just in ''i delivered them but he wasn't there'' Nick looks at the woman who just nods at him and motions him to sit down ''okay so you know what we've been talking about right ?'' Nick looks at her trying to remember something that never happened or he's just imagining ''Yeah...i do...i think'' ''Your future here, you've done great and this is your chance to make it big here so let us go over the questions you will be asked, okay?'' Nick nods at the woman who picks up a piece of paper and looks trough then over at Nick ''Okay, first, can you see yourself still working here even after your promotion ?'' ''That is kinda weird...why would i quit after getting an promotion ?'' The woman just smiles and nods at him ''True but this is just the questions on the paper and we gotta go trough them'' ''okay next Question...this promotion will increase your workload by quite a bit, will you still be able to work under pressure, Maya ?'' ''Yeah...wait ? Maya?'' The woman smiles and nods at Nick ''Yeah, that is your name yes ?'' ''No...i'm Nick'' The woman giggles at Nick ''i love the fact that even someone like you has a sense of humor Maya'' Nick just looks at her weirdly as he notices his arms are void of any hair and looks slimmer and more...feminine ''Next question is...why should we hire you ?'' ''Because im hard working...i put my job above all else and i put all my effort into the tasks set up for me'' Nick kinda stops after saying that and looks down at his hands ''Did i just say that?'' he tells himself in his head and looks back at the woman ''Great, next question, Are you planning on having children?'' ''Not...at the moment'' The woman smiles and writes it down ''okay, this was a great little mock-up test but why dont you go back to your office and work on your papers a bit ? the meeting is in three hours so better get prepared right ?'' Nick nods and gets up from the chair and notices something rather strange, he feels smaller than before Looking down he notices his legs are showing and are clean shaven as well as a pair of black high heels wrapped around his feet ''great, now then off you go, and good luck Maya'' she smiles at Nick as Nick just looks at her then nods slowly Nick then walks around trying to make sense of this strange almost real dream ''This is weird...but dreams are dreams...'' Nick says to himself and looks for the office but just find one named Maya and just walks in because why not There is a chair, a window behind the chair, a desk in front of the chair, a couple of bookcases and other office looking things around Nick walks over to the window as he passes by a mirror on the wall and takes a look at his reflection without noticing he does notice his jeans are now gentle deep blue color skirt and his sweater is a blazer in the same color with a white top underneath ''Wait what ? How ?'' Nick runs his hand trough the clothes but dont really feel anything since nothing here is real ''This is my sister's outfit...why am i wearing it...but wait...?'' ''i'm at work so it makes sense i guess'' Nick says to himself and walks over to the chair and sits down on it and turns it to look out the window looking down out over the city ''this view is amazing...'' Nick says and looks out over the city and the bustling city life, cars stuck in traffic, people running around trying to make meetings or rushing to get home A few people are eating food outside and some people are just walking around As nick looks around there is a knock on the door and a man walks inside and looks at her ''oh thank god you're here, im sorry to intrude Maya but the meeting has been rescheduled and is in thirty minutes so get ready! gotta run!'' The man vanishes as soon as he walked inside ''thirty minutes for the meeting ? that is quite the...rush...but i can do this!'' Nick takes a few deep breaths and stands up from the chair and walks by the mirror again and notices something else His face...he now looks completely like his sister and her proportions...as well But for some reason Nick thinks nothing of it and gets a glass of water and passes the time by going trough some of the questions til its five minutes left and heads to the meeting As soon as he walks inside the world turns white and the sound of an alarm can be heard ''Huh ?'' nick looks around the room as it all vanishes and then he opens his eyes and finds himself back in the bedroom of Maya ''What a dream...'' Nick says to himself and rubs his eyes and yawns as he notices Maya standing by the door with a look of shock and intrigue ''good morning...Maya'' she says and giggles as Nick sits up in the bed and notices something soft pressing against his chest He looks down and notices his breasts ''H...h...Holy....'' ''please calm down....it..i did it...i had to...for the meeting i have, if i cant be there, you have to take my place as me...'' Nick looks over at Maya and wraps a blanket around herself and walks out of the bed ''You turned me into you ? how?'' ''does it matter...? it wont change the fact you're me now and by tomorrow you should have my memories as well to help you trough the meeting...i would have asked but i knew you would have said no...so that is why i got you drunk and did it while you slept...'' Maya looks over at Nick as Nick is still trying to make sense of this ''So then the dream...it all happened in real life as well and now i'm you...?'' ''Mhm...but please dont be mad...i had no choice'' Nick looks at her angrily as he notices some clothes next to the bed, some black underwear, a white top and just some pajama pants ''i put some clothes there...its not late but we should both head to bed for real in a few hours but get dressed in the meantime...i'll help you with the bra'' Maya smiles as Nick looks at her with the same angry look but reluctantly gets dressed ''There we go, all dressed so come with me'' Maya leads him to the living room as they both sit down on the sofa ''Aren't you still sick though?'' ''yeah but...its fine...if you get smitten it wont affect you til after a few days'' ''....im starting to a see a new side of you Sis'' Maya smiles at Nick ''So, okay for tomorrow, my memories should be intact in you with your old ones and you should be able to act like me'' ''wait...i get your memories ?'' ''Well you have to...'' ''But...that is kinda...'' Nick looks down as Maya just giggles at him ''you get to remember my first kiss...my puberty and my life, everything i remember you will as well'' ''There is a line of how much i should know about you'' Maya just giggles and starts poking Nick's breasts ''But its kinda fun right ? you're me...we're kinda like twins'' ''We already are twins! i'm just one minute older than you'' ''you know what i mean'' Maya sighs and just keeps poking ''And stop that..'' ''Awww dont like it or do you like it ?'' ''i dont like my new boobs getting poked at by my sister which i also am right now'' ''so specific but okay silly'' Maya smiles and stops Nick sighs and looks down at his top and starts poking his breasts himself ''...hmmm...feels so heavy...'' ''you get used to it...as a woman you dont really have that much choice'' ''I guess so...'' ''Anyway...we should get some sleep...you can take the guest room while i take my room okay?'' Nick nods at her as they both head to bed and as Nick lies there in the bed looking up at the ceiling and slowly falls asleep The next morning Nick is woken up by Maya as she pokes him awake ''Wake up, we gotta get ready!'' Nick yawns and sits up in the bed as Maya puts his clothes down on the bed ''Get dressed and meet me in the bathroom'' Nick yawns again and slowly gets dressed putting on the blue skirt the white top then the blazer and heads into the bathroom where he find Maya smiling at him ''okay sit down here'' she points at a chair as Nick does as told and she starts doing his hair ''Sooo...feeling anything...new?'' Nick looks at her reflection in the mirror and blushes as he can remember going trough school as Maya, her first kiss, her first...experience and so on ''Yeah...it feels...weird but oddly familiar'' ''that's good i want you to be on your game for the meeting this is very important'' she smiles and starts applying make-up on him ''Feeling closer to me ?'' Nick nods at her ''i never...believed you had it this hard at work...the men there are pigs...'' Maya looks at him and nods slowly ''...that is work life for many women...'' They both kinda stop talking for a bit as Maya just applies the make-up and sprays some soft perfume on him ''Well...all done'' Nick gets up and looks at his reflection ''i look cute...and i feel so professional'' Maya smiles and hugs Nick tightly ''Thank you...and good luck...you're me now...you know what to say and do...right ?'' Nick nods at her and takes a deep breath as he gets her purse and keys and takes one final glance at her as he leaves and heads to the office Nick heads inside and water some of the plants there as the woman from his dreams walks inside ''Maya, the meeting will be in fifteen minutes...'' she walks over and smiles at Maya ''i really hope you get it...but im going to miss you...'' Nick smiles at her and hugs her ''im going to miss you as well Catherine but we will still be friends and hang out when we can'' Catherine smiles happily and nods as they chat for a while then Nick heads to the meeting and sit down as three men and a woman walks inside the room and sits down on their chairs ''Okay then...let us get this started'' the man in the chair at the end of the table looks at Maya ''Yes Mr Stevens thank you so much for setting your time off for this'' Mr Stevens just nods and gets out some paper and start reading trough it ''i see here you have been working here for....seven years and everyone writes positive about you and you have taken steps to reduce costs and make money'' Nick nods at him ''Yes sir'' ''Okay then, this position will require you to move a bit around the world and going to several meetings and manage contracts and the likes but i can see here you're not afraid of challenges and the obstacles it might cause but before that let me ask you three questions'' ''Yes sir'' ''okay first. what do you think the company could do better?'' ''Well...a new web page would help a lot since we get a lot of questions there and maybe make it more streamlined and easier to use for the users and us working here'' ''i would also maybe cut some of the staff...we could cut three people just here and still make just as much money and increase productivity'' ''Ahuh yes'' mr Stevens nods and writes it down ''Second question...how would your colleagues describe you?'' ''Well...i cant directly answer for them but they all say i'm hardworking...on time and never take unnecessary breaks'' ''Excellent...now last question, if you were to get this job...what would you do?'' ''I dont totally understand the question but...i would do as im told, do my projects on time. make sure those around me see me as their boss but still someone they can talk to if they need help...and give a 110%'' ''I see...well from the reports here and your answers i do think you have a bright future here but i will discuss it with the board and we will give you an answer within an hour so please if you might leave us alone while we discuss it'' Nick nods and gets up from the chair and looks at them ''thank you so much'' Nick then walks back to the office and takes a glass of water and slowly sips it while looking out the window After about an hour there is a knock on the door and Mr Stevens walks inside ''Ah, hello Again Maya, we have come to the decision that we want you to take the position, you might start next week once you get there, head to the receptionist and ask for me and i will come help you get set up'' Maya walks over to Mr Stevens and smiles ''thank you very much sir, i promise you, you wont regret this'' Mr Stevens just smiles and nods at her ''i've never been wrong about people before so i'm sure you wont disappoint and besides...it will be nice to have something good to look at as well'' He laughs it off as a joke while Nick kinda feels a bit hurt by the statement but acts professional and smiles at him ''Well then, why dont you start cleaning up here and head home and i will see you Monday'' ''Yes sir'' Nick smiles as Mr Stevens walks out of the office Nick sighs and walks over to the chair and sits down ''i..i did it...i got the job! i did it!!!'' Nick smiles happily and quickly starts packing up the stuff and quickly drives back home Once back home, he finds Maya lying on the sofa looking at Nick with wide eyes as he enters the room ''.....I got the job! i mean...we got the job! i mean...you got the job!!!'' ''oh my god...R-really ? you did it ?'' Nick nods as Maya rushes up from the sofa and hugs Nick ''Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!'' Nick smiles at Maya who smiles happily back at him ''i cant thank you enough for doing this for me, you are the best and i cant thank you enough...'' ''Its fine Sis...i know how much it meant to you and i was happy i could help you...'' Maya smiles and hugs Nick again ''we need to celebrate let me get some good wine just sit down on the sofa and i will be right over, okay ?'' Nick smiles and nods at her and walks over to the sofa and sits down as Maya walks into the kitchen and pours them both a glass of wine and opens up a cupboard and gets out a small bottle ''I'm sorry Nick...but im going to be working a lot more now and i just need your help now more than ever...i hope you wont be mad at me and i will change you back....someday but for right now i just need someone that takes care of the place...'' Maya smiles and turns the bottle and reads the label on it ''This is the...Maid one...no bodily changes but you will...take pleasure in cleaning...cooking and making my life easier as i will be your....Boss...im sorry Nick'' She pours the potion into Nicks drink and heads into the living room and hands Nick the glass of wine ''To us...Right ?'' Nick nods ''To us sister, thanks for letting me help and see things a bit from your side but...when can i turn back?'' ''oh...it should be over in 2 days'' Maya smiles as Nick drinks from the glass ''Okay then'' Nick smiles After drinking for a little bit and watching some TV Nick gets up from the chair and looks around ''Something wrong Nick?'' ''N-No my lady...i just forgot to prepare your meal'' ''O-oh...it's...its...its okay...'' Maya smiles and sits back down in the sofa and looks at Nick ''But since this worked quite fast i think i should get you an outfit and so on'' ''Worked so fast my lady ? i dont quite understand ?'' ''Well...i'm going to be working a lot now...i need someone to take care of the place just til everything settles down...I'm sorry Nick...'' ''....I...i understand my lady, i will...i will clean for you...make dinner for you...make your life easy is after all...a maids job'' ''Not just a maids job....you might act like one but you are still my brother...'' ''My lady...i appreciate it but as your maid it wont be right...for now til the time comes call me Tanya and i will be your maid only...that is my duty'' Maya looks over at Tanya and nods slowly and mutters lowly to herself ''Thank you...Thank you...and goodbye...Brother...'

[wynndygoon]

1st Anniversary!

This will be sort of a recap post encompassing all of what has happened over this first year. So get ready, this will be a long post!

I started this blog shortly after I got my drawing tablet as a means to try and get better at using the damn thing. Needless to say, I think that it has been more than a success and has also been an amazing opportunity to meet all of you amazing people who have gotten invested in Noma and what she is and who she is as a character. And, while this past year hasn’t been perfect, it has been a wondorous experience filled with laughs and new bonds that frankly, I never would have made otherwise. Same goes to me trying out new things such as streaming, downloading Discord, and just flat out putting my art out there in this world for people to see and hopefully fall in love with.

So this whole blog, and the lady we all know and love, Noma, wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for chance. If you are new or never read the post explaining her past, the short version is: I had a Blaziken that hatched from an Egg in pokemon Black. It was a female, and I named her Noma, and it turned out that she had a bunch of good EV’s and IV’s, so I used her a lot through the game. Well when X and Y came out, I got the launch event Torchic that had better stats than Noma, so in a stupid move, I wonder Traded her away, hoping that someone else would like her just as much as I did. Fast forward a few months before I started this blog, and one of my friends traded me a bunch of pokemon since he didn’t really play much anymore. Long story short, he traded me back Noma. So while I had this idea about starting a pokemon ask blog, I never knew which pokemon i wanted to use, until Noma popped back into my life. As soon as that happened, I knew I had to make her my character.

So next came the design phase, and while I never was amazing at creating characters, I knew that I had to try and make her look unique to stand out from the crowd. And When I say unique, i think I went a bit too overboard with her, but at least we can still tell she is a blaziken, right? Anyways, I knew that I wanted to make her somewhat Tomboy-ish, while still having her be feminine as to not confuse people. I also knew that one easy way to accomplish this was to make her a little more fluffy and poofy, so believe it or not, I started with her hair design and went from there. I knew that if i could nail the hair, then everything would kinda fall into place. So that is why she has just SO MUCH HAIR, because form a design point, it was necessary. Also, making her wear clothes would help her stand out seeing as many poke-ask blogs leave their characters nude. Speaking of which, I am going to address something about Noma right here: SHE DOESN’T HAVE BOOBS ALRIGHT. I know it looks like she does, but since she has so many feathers and is very fluffy, wearing clothes would be difficult. So what she has to do is stuff her chest fluff into her tank tops, and purely because there is so much of it, it lumps up under the shirt. So all the people asking to see Noma’s “Chicken Breasts” ( those were some real asks BTW), sorry, no luck there.

________________________________________________________________

                   THIS SECTION IS ALL OF MY FAVORITE ASKS AND                                           REDESIGNS OF NOMA

So, now that I have the character created, It’s time to draw her and make a post on here. Im not gonna lie, that first night was nerve wracking. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going to happen, if anyone would see the post, or hell, if anyone would like it.

But here she is, the main attraction in her first appearance on the blog. Happy, inviting, and not nearly as fluffy as what she is now. For some of you newer followers, yes, this is how it all began. Notice that she isn’t as tall, or fluffy, or as vibrant as what you know her as, but yes, this is what everyone saw for a couple of months while I started out. This WAS her design.

So, with this outta the way, it’s time to answer some asks, but to do that, I had to think of her personality. So, I just made her personality be fun. someone who can be sassy, sarcastic, kind, loveable, and genuinely nice. It’s up to you to decide o how well that comes across though.

This ask was: “Why are you such a Boss Ass Blaziken?” and this is where I went into her story in a little more detail and made it feel more like a story rather than a simple explanation of events. It was  the first question I got and I had a lot of fun working on it because at least one person took the time out of their day to send me something.

Here is Noma explaining her Favorite Region that she has been to. And this was kind of a first for the blog since we got to see what she looked like below the crop top. And yes, its just a crop top with her chest fluff stuffed into it. Take note how much shorter she was when I started this blog. Like, I never realized this before, but for a blaziken, she was a midget. Also, can we just ignore some of the glaring anatomy issues here? I was still kinda working on her design here.

And here we reach the first Big re-design of Noma. While not much besides her hair changed, this was the part of her life that she started dyeing her hair different colors to make her design more unique. She also has a bit more of a neck and her hands are also more suited to a blaziken’s with the gray part instead of all red like the first post. In this ask, she was answering what her favorite past times are. Out of all the asks that I have done so far back then, THIS was my favorite to work on, just changing up her hair style felt so refreshing and  honestly makes her look so much different.

THIS. FREAKING. ASK. this was the one that started a bunch of people to harass me to essentially draw nsfw of Noma. At the time of answering this ask, I was midway through a show called Panty and Stocking, go check it out if you haven’t, it’s hilarious and really good. But the ask was: “What is your favorite hairstyle?” So I decided to have a little fun and I started out just drawing the hair to make the reference to Panty and Stocking, but I thought that nobody would actually catch the reference, so I decided to go big or go home and reference the entire character of Scanty. If only I knew what kind of hell I would have unleashed for the next few months. Despite all of the perverted asks and messages I received, this was an insanely fun ask to draw, and it was also a challenge to try and recreate Scanty, but in a Blaziken form. Also, notice how her hands reverted back to red. I never said I was consistent.

So that slightly NSFW ask was the last actual drawing i posted for quite a while because then, I started college and was so nervous and scared and focused on doing well that i just didn’t have time to draw or play video games because of all the stress. I would literally wake up, go to school, go to work, come home, and sleep. and that was it. My next few posts actually weren’t Noma related, so I won’t cover them.

This was the first ask I had for ASK MAGIC which had Noma’s type change to water for 3 asks. Each of these weren’t all that exciting, but I am including this here because it was a milestone for the blog that NO ONE HAS USED SINCE! HINT HINT.

This wasn’t an ask, just a drawing idea I had for Halloween. She is still rocking her crazy hair with 3 different colors now and frankly, I have no idea what I was thinking giving her a rooster comb AND and ponytail, but hey, it works. SO if you couldn’t tell she went as a rooster for Halloween and her hands also magically changed back to red. But she also dyed her chest fluff in the shape of a heart which was another small design change.

HERE SHE IS THE FIRST MAJOR REDESIGN THAT ACTUALLY CHANGED SOME STUFF ABOUT HER. First of all, she doesn’t have the weird red neck that she had that just made her chest fluff look glued on, her fluff is on the entirety of her neck, and her neck is now longer, giving here a taller appearance. I also changed the look of her chest fluff to look like it surrounds her from behind also, and I changed the fluff on her face here too. Sure they may not be the biggest changes, but they made her a hell of a lot easier to draw and i think made her look better overall too.

This is just a better look of her, and is also my icon. See how she looks less like a midget and more graceful? The re-design was for the greater good.

This ask was SUPER fun: “My last ask was mean, but if you could choose any other type, what would it be”. This was when i could encompass all of what made Noma, Noma. The new redesign looks flawless, and we actually got to see an almost full body drawing of Noma. Glaring anatomy issues aside, I still really think that this was one of my better works of Noma.

I had a Thanskgiving ask set aside to put here, but I am really not too proud of that one, and also because it was during the time when I lost my grandmother, so I’m just going to leave it out so I don’t get too emotional about it.

You think I would have learned my lesson about showing Noma in anything REMOTELY NSFW, but nope, here we have her in her underwear. The ask was: “I am liking this new look!”  and yeah, I tried to go for a cheap visual gag, not only in the fact that she isn’t decent, but also in the name of her boxers. American Eagle in the pokemon world would more than likely be Unovan Braviary, like come on, that’s comedy silver at best.

Look at this Eye-sore. I tried to do a candy cane look wit her hair, but I think it fell flat and looks too busy. But the Ask was: “Do you have any jewelry?” While this doesn’t look as good as I hoped it would have, this was certainly a lot of fun to draw.

This was my absolute favorite non-ask post to draw because i used my actual ugly christmas sweater to design hers. I know the perspective is off here, but that is purely because of the angle I took the picture at.

THIS COMIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE BLAST TO DRAW, PLUS IT ALSO INTRODUCED NOMA’S LOVE INTEREST, EM, WHICH IS STILL A PART OF THIS BLOG SO SEND HIM SOME ASKS PLEASE. ALSO I DO NOT OWN EM, HE IS A CHARACTER OF BANANAMUTTBREAD, SO GO GIVE HIM A FOLLOW, HE IS AN AMAZING PERSON.

This was a difficult drawing to do, not because of the characters, but because of the shading and lighting, and yes, I know, its not the best, But I am still very proud of it nonetheless. But, yeah, this is a mash up of Lethal League which is an amazing game and Noma. The reason I chose Candyman to draw, was because he was simple, and because he is a pain in the ass to fight against.

By this point in the blog’s life, I had just bought my dog Bella, and started a new semester at college. With my toughest classes all piled on top of each other, i didn’t have much time to draw, so there wasn’t much to be posted then. However, I did introduce a new character, not a pokemon, but instead a bee character I came up with. Her name is Grain, and she is super cute, so go check out the art i made of her!

With me posting again halfway through last semester, the first ask I got was about Noma’s hairstyle. To be honest, I have no idea what kind of style that is, so let’s just move on.

Oh boy, my first piece i did on stream. This was another small redesign I did just to get back into the swing of redrawing Noma and making sure I could remember how to draw her. also, I tested out a new form of shading that I really like and will probably continue to use from here on out.