#except whatever the fuck French is doing. i feel like I’m clearing my throat when i try to copy French people

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Why are the Romance languages so much more fun to yell at people with? By comparison Norwegian and English are so clunky Spanish just flows. Maybe I’ll change my mind when I get better at the other two (I phrased this awkwardly. I meant Spanish and Norwegian when I said “other two” because Spanish is my, admittedly not fluent anymore, Second language and Norwegian is my, also not fluent yet but I have more of an excuse with that one, language) but in my experience so far one definitely feels more bulky, if that makes any sense?

[fruitcoops]

Hi! Do you think you’d be willing to write some Cubs fluff for Mardi Gras? Like Leo making Finn and Lo do something (I don’t exactly know how it’s celebrated)?

Oh my god I LOVE Mardi Gras!!! Also, I haven’t done Cubs fluff in a while, and I combined it with a couple other related prompts. This fic includes Cubs and Coops bonding (ft. Logan being a little shit), Leo learning to drive in the snow, a chaotic trip to the grocery store, and Lions family dinner after a winter walk. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3

“Eas—Easy, babe, just take it nice and steady,” Finn gripped the ‘oh, shit’ handle with one hand and Leo’s thigh with the other; in the backseat, Logan rubbed his neck where the seatbelt bit into it.

Leo took an unsteady breath and carefully pressed the gas again, wincing as the car rumbled under him. “Oh god, oh fuck, okay.”

“Snow isn’t that hard to drive in—” Finn cut off as Leo slammed on the brakes again. “���as long as you don’t brake hard whenever you feel a little bit of ice. Lo, you okay?”

“Fine,” Logan wheezed, bracing against the car door.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Finn murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as Leo began inching forward again. “If you start to slip, take your foot off the gas and do not slam the brakes, okay? We don’t want to skid.”

“I don’t get why you can’t drive us there,” Leo said, glancing in each of his mirrors even though they were still in a fairly residential area. Ten minutes on the road and they’d barely made it four blocks from the apartment.

“Because you need to know how to drive properly.”

“I know how to drive!” Leo saw Finn and Logan exchange a look through the rearview mirror and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop it. When’s my next turn?”

“Still 53rd.”

“Left or right?”

“Right.” Finn tapped out a quick text on his phone. “Cap and Loops just arrived at the store.”

“Fuck,” Leo muttered.

“It’s okay, Peanut, take your time,” Logan said. “Just focus on getting there safely.”

Leo tried to breathe deep and they rolled down the block, flinching each time snow or ice crackled under the tires or threatened to make them slide. “I drive in the rain all the time. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Rain is way different than snow.” Finn pointed to the next intersection. “Turn there.”

They took the turn a bit wide, but thankfully there were no cars on the other side—still, both Finn and Logan went pale. Logan cleared his throat. “Streets here aren’t as wide as New Orleans, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leo grumbled. “How much further?”

“The parking lot is on the next block.”

They almost got stuck driving up the small ramp into the parking lot due to Leo’s ‘slow and steady’ approach and he could have sworn he heard Logan muttering the Hail Mary in French under his breath. Parking was easy—nobody in their right mind would be driving after a true Gryffindor snowstorm. Except us, he thought wryly as he turned the engine off.

“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Finn said mere seconds after the key was out.

“Dude.”

“Sorry. Uh, Cap’s by the produce section.”

They were too focused on not slipping and falling on their asses to talk much while they walked through several snowdrifts to get to the front entrance of the grocery store; Leo sighed with happiness as soon as the heated air hit his face.

“Harzy!” Cap waved an arm over his head from the apple stand, smiling brightly. “You survived!”

“It was a close one,” Finn called back with a grin, sliding his hand into Leo’s back pocket as the three of them walked over.

“Dibs on riding in the cart!” One of Logan’s legs was already halfway into the basket before Sirius could stop him; he kicked aside the celery and onions and settled down, leaning back onto Sirius’ hands. “Bonjour.”

“Get out.”

“Non. I live here now.”

“I’m not pushing you.”

“I will!” Finn said. “Where’s the old ball and chain, Capsicle?”

“Call me that again and you can say goodbye to your ball and chain,” Remus said drily, lugging a bag of rice over from the other aisle. He stopped when he saw Logan, looking amused. “Hiya, Tremz. You look comfy.”

“Oh, I am.” Logan lounged in the cart, letting one leg drape over the side; he groaned when Remus set the rice bag on his chest. “Was that necessary?”

“No, but it was funny.” He grinned at Leo. “How was driving?”

Leo shrugged. “Decent.”

Sirius snorted as they began walking toward the meat section. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s a miracle I wasn’t beheaded,” Logan said. “Fish, how fast can you make it to the end of the aisle?”

“Loops, time me.” Finn tightened his grip on the cart and bent into a runner’s stance; Leo and Sirius both rolled their eyes as Remus dug his phone out of his pocket and opened up the timer.

“Ready…set…go!” Finn ran for three steps before hopping onto the under carriage as Logan whooped. Remus stopped the timer. “Four point six seconds! Get back here, I wanna try.”

“You’re not going to beat that time,” Logan laughed as he climbed out of the cart.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the same time Remus stuck his tongue out. “Watch me. Knutty, can I trust you to be an unbiased timer?”

Leo shrugged. “Sure, gimme your phone.”

“You have one of your very own.”

“Trying to hide something, are we?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius pushed him away by the forehead. “Spill the beans, Loops! Got some spicy messages in there? Some things poor baby Nutter Butter can’t handle?”

“No, I just don’t trust any of you with anything that belongs to me,” he laughed. “You’re walking safety hazards.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Leo said as he set the timer. “Ready? Go!”

Sirius nearly tipped the cart over when he stood on the lower bar, making both of them yelp and wobble for a moment. Leo stopped the clock at the end of the aisle. Three point nine seconds.

“Sorry, guys, that’s four point eight seconds!” he called as Sirius pushed the cart back up to them.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Show me the phone.”

“I already reset the time.”

“So we definitely won,” Sirius said while Remus clambered out of the basket and Logan took his place. “Get out, Tremzy!”

“Make me!”

Sirius reached in and grabbed him under his armpits, but Logan kept a tight grip on the sides. “Are you done?” Remus asked wearily once Sirius started shaking him. “ ‘cause our grocery list is, like, a million miles long.”

With a disgruntled noise, Sirius dropped Logan back into the cart. “With any luck, he’ll be crushed under the food. What’s next?”

They had a few more competitions during their journey through the store, including onion basketball, vegetable Tetris, and a highly amusing game of twenty questions that ended in Sirius laying the bag of rice over Logan’s face.

Leo did some mental math as they walked out with six grocery bags full of ingredients. “We’ll need about seven pots to fit all this, but we’ve only got two that would work.”

“I think we’ve got one or two as well,” Remus said as he hauled a bag into the trunk of their car and brushed his hands off. “Celeste probably has some, and I can give Lily a call. Where are we making it, again?”

“Dumo’s. There’s nowhere near enough space at the apartment and I don’t want these two anywhere close to it.”

Finn shot him an offended look over a bag of onions. “Hey!”

“I love you, sweetheart, but if you fuck up my gumbo I’ll cry.” In the back of his mind, Leo was already thinking of small jobs for Logan and Finn to do so they could make it together, but they didn’t need to know that. It could be a Mardi Gras surprise.

“The sun’s coming out,” Sirius mused, looking upward at the clear blue sky. “Nothing we bought is going to melt. Do you want to go for a walk before we head out?”

Logan checked his phone. “We’ve got time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo agreed.

“I’m never going to say no to a snow day,” Finn laughed, wrapping his arms around Leo and Logan. “Lead the way.”

“So, Knutty, gumbo is basically chicken noodle soup, right?” Sirius asked as he linked elbows with Remus and started down the sidewalk.

“Uh, no.” Leo made a disgusted face and reached out to smack the back of his shoulder. “That’s blasphemy. Gumbo is more like stew, but you put less meat in it and more of a vegetable base. There aren’t noodles, either. Do you even know what a roux is?”

Sirius glanced back at Finn, who shrugged. “…I do not.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Leo muttered. “A roux is the base to all good New Orleans food. It’s flour and oil, and you heat it up so whatever you’re making has an actual taste to it, as well as some thickness. If you get it wrong, the whole thing is pretty much ruined.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

Ahead of them, a pack of kids played pickup hockey on the park’s frozen pond. Several of them wore Lions sweatshirts or hats and Leo leaned his head on Finns beanie with a smile. “Look at how cute they are,” Finn cooed, waving to some of the astonished parents who had spotted them.

“Oh, killer hit,” Remus said as one kid went on a breakaway. “Is he—hey, nice shot!”

They paused for a second to applaud and a jumble of excited yelling echoed off the trees around the pond; Leo burst out laughing and draped his other arm across Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in closer to their huddle as they began to walk again. “We should head out there sometime. We live close enough.”

Finn hummed in agreement and stood on his tiptoes with a hopeful smile. “Kisses?”

Leo obliged, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous. That had nothing to do with hockey.”

“I didn’t get any kisses,” Logan grumbled, snuggling into Leo’s ribs.

“Get up here and I’ll give you one!”

“My nose is cold!”

Leo sighed dramatically and bent down to kiss the rosy tip of his nose—at the last second, Logan popped his chin out of his coat collar and caught his lips. “That was smooth as fuck. Better?”

“Much.”

“Are you three being gross again?” Remus teased, craning his neck to look back.

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“One walk,” Sirius sighed. “I wanted one walk where we could hang out in peace and quiet.”

“You invited the wrong people for that,” Leo snickered as they looped back around the block into the parking lot. “Harzy, baby, can you drive us back?”

“You need to learn!”

Leo turned on his saddest puppy eyes and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

Finn scrunched his nose up and flicked his shoulder lightly. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

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

After a quick pit stop at their apartment to pick up the pots, they arrived at the Dumais house just past two in the afternoon. Sirius and Remus pulled into the driveway just as they began unloading groceries from the truck and hurried over to give them a hand; all five of them were immediately mobbed by children the second they set foot in the house. Leo carefully took the onions from Logan so he could sweep Katie over his shoulder and tickle her knees, making her dissolve into giggles.

“My boys!” Celeste called from the entrance to the kitchen. She practically glowed with excitement as she pulled them into a group hug and Leo melted a little when she pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You brought the food, yes?”

“We’ve got everything we need,” he confirmed, holding the onions and a pot up as proof. “As long as you’ve got counter space, we’ll be a-okay.”

Sirius and Logan lingered in the doorway, chatting with the kids in rapid French that Leo didn’t even try to keep up with—he used to think regional differences were made up for internet clout, but even after living with Logan for close to a year he sometimes struggled with the pace.

Celeste helped them gather cutting boards, knives, and basic spices that they hadn’t picked up at the store; Leo felt a thrill in his gut and drummed his hands happily on the countertop at the sight of the familiar ingredients. He made a mental note to send a picture to his mother later that night as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Think you can handle rinsing vegetables?” he asked, passing Finn a bag of green peppers.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before going to the sink. Remus unpacked the last of the bags and gave him an expectant look—Leo was struck by the sudden realization that for once, he was the only one in the kitchen who knew the recipe.

“Um, I’ll start the roux,” he said, grabbing the flour and oil. “Loops, can you start dicing the peppers, celery, and onions? Cap can help out once he gets the squid children off him.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Bold of you to assume he won’t drag them in here.”

“Alright, Rookie, what’s my job?” Sirius panted, grinning wildly as Adele wrapped herself around his lower leg and groaned with each dragging step.

Remus spared him a playful I told you so look, and Leo shook his head. “As long as you can use a knife with a kid clinging to your leg, you can help your fiancé chop the basics.”

Sirius mock-saluted him and hobbled to the counter; behind him, Logan wandered in with Marc under one arm and Katie under the other. “I have potato sack delivery,” he announced, giving them each a gentle shake. “Can these go in the gumbo, too?”

“No!” both shrieked at the same time, flailing their legs.

“Those look like pretty good potatoes to me…” Sirius said, glancing down at Adele. “What do you think?”

“Put ‘em in the soup!” she yelled.

“It’s not soup,” Leo complained, though he couldn’t be heard over the loud protests of the youngest Dumais kids.

Sirius finally got Adele to let go of him when he started cutting onions—“Do you want to smell like onions?”—but Katie perched on the edge of the counter and watched every move Leo made with eagle eyes as he finished each roux and began mixing the trinity in. Each motion was muscle memory—the smells wrapped him in a hug made of tangy peppers, smooth chicken broth, and a kick of spice at the very end.

Much to his surprise, Sirius, Finn, and Logan were quick learners. Making five massive pots of gumbo was much easier when he had five more hands helping him; Celeste had even been sweet enough to put jazz on as they cooked and the six of them took turns dancing, partnering with whomever was closest.

The others started arriving at five—almost immediately, the kitchen was crowded with ten new hockey players who crammed as close as they could to the stovetop to smell the bubbling broth. Noelle was the only one who was allowed to get within ten feet of the food, much to Talker’s chagrin.

Honestly, it was a miracle that they made it to the table without the rest of the team falling on the gumbo like a pack of wild hyenas who hadn’t eaten for a week. Kasey’s bouncy leg shook the edge of the table in anticipation until Leo reached over and smacked him on the thigh with his spoon. “Be patient, Bliz.”

“I’m always patient!”

Eight different people made noises of protest and he scoffed, leaning his face over the bowl to get a whiff of the thick steam. Dumo tapped his fork on the side of his cup; it wasn’t quite a classy ding-ding, but it made enough noise to catch people’s attention.

“First, thank you all for coming here for a family dinner,” he said, smiling so wide it made Leo’s heart warm. “Second, I’d like to welcome the older and wiser O’Hara to his very first Lions dinner, since he had the great fortune of visiting just in time to be adopted by the team for a night!”

Loud cheers filled the house and Alex gave a slight wave, blushing under the attention as Kasey and Nat jostled him between their shoulders.

“And finally, everyone say ‘thank you’ to Knutty for sharing his top-secret gumbo recipe from home. We might not celebrate Mardi Gras like New Orleans, but this is a party nonetheless.” Dumo raised his water with a wink and Leo squeezed Logan’s hand under the table as seventeen voices thanked him for his cooking, despite the fact that they hadn’t even tasted it yet.

The house went dead silent as people took their first bites, then erupted into noise. “Holy shit, Knutty!” Nado all but shouted, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “This is witchcraft.”

“It’s called ‘cooking’, you should try it sometime,” Leo shot back, grinning. The chicken thighs melted in his mouth, and the pop of lemon and spice at the back of his throat tingled all the way down to his bones. He didn’t think Pots had taken a breath in thirty straight seconds. Leo closed his eyes, letting the tangled muddle of his family’s voices roll over him, mixing with the taste of home.

“Ça va, mon amour?” Logan asked under his breath, touching his elbow.

Leo smiled and touched their foreheads together, setting his spoon down on the edge of his bowl. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Logan smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “You look happy.”

“You two are whispering without me?” Finn whined, scooting his chair over a few inches and squishing Logan between them. His bowl was already half-empty, Leo noted with a sense of satisfaction. “That’s rude.”

“I love you,” Leo said. It needed no embellishments; no big, dramatic displays. “And I love making food for everyone.”

“You can do it any time, baby rookie.” Kasey scraped the sides of his bowl to catch the last few grains of cornbread, knocking his knee with Leo’s. “Next time we have a sleepover, I’m not ordering pizza.”

“So I’m going to be your personal chef?” Leo snorted. “Not a chance.”

“What’s that saying? The Mardi Gras one?”

Leo savored his next bite of gumbo and looked around the table as everyone chatted and laughed at the top of their lungs. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he said. “Let the good times roll.”

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (18)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,4K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Notes: If anyone got the notification, please tell me 😭 If you guys want to get notifications (hopefully) please go here

Updates: Tuesdays

                                                         ////

   There were a lot of rumors going on right now.

    You prided yourself on not being the type to care about rumors and things like this but being in the center of so many of those in the last few days made it impossible for you to not be at least curious. The whispers had been obvious for a while now ─ particularly after Paris’ performance ─ and you couldn’t help but wonder how people could have so much free time in their hands and use it like that.

    You should have known, though.

    It was more than obvious that befriending Chan and Hyunjin would put you in the spotlight and it was bound to lead to dumb rumors at some point. You just didn’t expect them to be so dumb. Although you must have heard about hundreds of versions up to now, the core of all of them was pretty simple to catch: Love affairs and intrigue. That was what those incredible undergraduate brains could do with all of their loose imagination and wisdom.    

    You could kinda grasp why people thought you were dating Chan. You really could. You were pretty close with each other so it was logical for people to misunderstand your relationship… The thing is that you had been like this with Chan for ages now and no one ever had commented anything about it ─ at least not to this extent ─ so the real question here was pretty simple: Why now?

    “Hey” You lifted your eyes from the counter, meeting Hyunjin’s ones “Daydreaming at work?” He chuckled, leaning on the surface as he rested his face on his hand, studying you closely.

    Well… Then there was that too.

    Not only you were dating Chan but you were also cheating on him with Hyunjin… So maybe you could understand why people thought you were with Chan but where did this come from? It didn’t make any sense. First of all, they’re best friends living together! How the hell would you two-time Chan right under his roof with his best friend?! Second of all, you didn’t give away any hint on feeling something for Hyunjin! And he didn’t show anything similar for you either!

    No. Fucking. Sense.

    “Yeah…” You agreed mindlessly, mimicking his position to stare into his eyes “What about you? Why are you here?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as he smiled fondly at you; face too close for you to completely catch his shrug.

    “Can’t I drop by to see a friend?” He asked in a teasing tone “I should just have gone to see Paris… She treats me way better than you” He joked; hand reaching to fix a strand behind your ear “I should know you were just going after my body…” He sighed mockingly, chuckling as you rolled your eyes and tried to get away from his touch.

    “Stop it” You hissed “You know people are talking about us!” You frowned, getting a laugh as an answer. He leaned even closer, prompting you to lean back, trying to get more space between the both of you “You might like being the center of the attention but I don’t, Hyunjin” You mumbled, pushing him lightly so he would take a step back.

    “I didn’t think you were the type to care about what people thought about you” He pointed out, leaning back anyway “What are you worrying about? Do you think Chan will misunderstand us?” You weren’t really sure but his tone sounded a little bitter right there, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes.

    There was something wrong with Hyunjin these days…

    You were under the impression that he had been the target of those kinds of rumors throughout all his life and yet he was acting weirdly. Although he was quite playful about it ─ and by playful you meant flirty and touching ─, he also had those moments where he seemed to… Overthink? You weren’t really sure what was going on.

    It was like he couldn’t help but grimace each time you and Chan were mentioned on those. He seemed pretty okay in being the center of the rumors… Whether it was you or Paris, he didn’t seem to mind when either of you was pictured with him but he got clearly upset when Chan was involved. You were not sure if it was just his overprotective self over Chan or if he was suspicious of something going on between both of you while he knew the other rumors were just bullshit.

    He probably believed that both of you were hiding things from him. Again. You honestly had no idea why your friends had so much of a hard time understanding the things you said. You and Chan would never have anything! You were best friends, for Lord’s sake! And that was it.

    No. Romantic. Feelings. At. All.

    “There is nothing to misunderstand here, Hyunjin” You sighed “You and I have nothing going on and neither do I and Chan” You explained for the hundredth time already “Not wanting to fuel the rumors isn’t the same as caring about them” You added, grimacing at him in a matter-of-fact way that made him scoff.

    “I see…” He hummed, staring into your eyes for a second too long “Well… Anyway, I came here for a new book” He clarified, placing the last one he borrowed on the counter “This one was pretty good but I still preferred the first you lent me” He added, drumming his fingers on the book’s cover “I was wondering if you don’t have any other indications” He shrugged, averting his eyes from yours.

  “Oh? I thought you were a slow reader” You arched your brows in surprise, taking the book from the counter while looking at him “Are you sure you read that one?” You joked, chuckling.

   “I guess you still have a lot to learn about me” He giggled, leaning once more on the counter “Maybe if you started to pay attention to me instead of listening to those rumors…” He let the sentence hang in the air teasingly, smirking as you rolled your eyes “Or maybe we should start dating to give them a reason to talk” He chuckled, wiggling his brows at you.

   “Great 5th grade way to think” You praised him mockingly, giving him a thumbs-up as you pressed the book against your chest and made your way to the shelf it was supposed to be on “Do you have any genre in mind?” You asked mindlessly, checking the codes to match the book.

    “Surprise me” He joked, trying to do an awkward French accent that made you look funnily at him “Oh, come on… Ratatouille? No? Really?” He nagged, mumbling displeased as you giggled at his antics.

    You turned on the aisle, eyes roaming around as he followed you closely behind, gaze wandering around the many books displayed on the shelves. You put the one you were holding back in its place, humming as you studied the content on the shelves. He hummed along with you, playfully leaning closer to your ear as he pretended to be invested in looking for something to read.  

    His presence sent shivers all the way down your body.

    No… Not his presence.

    It was the setting… Yes, it had to be it.

    The library had that mysterious ancient vibe that thrilled you… The brownish solid colors surrounding everything in a majestic framing that made you feel too small… The hard-covered books’ scent in the air, a full-bodied heaviness that seemed to clamp you… The dim lighting that revealed each scattering mote fluttering around, agitated by the soft huff Hyunjin let out… The warmth that crept into your bones as you held your breath for just a half-second…

    It wasn’t him.

    The way your heart rammed against your chest had nothing to do with his presence… Nor it had anything to do with his hands slowly making their way to the shelves, trapping you between him and the books… And you were almost too sure that the cloudy thoughts flickering in your mind and the fluttering sensations in your stomach ─ that forced you to swallow dryly ─ had something to do with your skipped meal but, again, not with him.

    “Someone looks nervous” He whispered and somehow his breathing seemed to tighten your chest and quicken your heart pace once more. You could see both of his hands right in front of you and yet it felt like he was embracing you… The way you had to force your eyes open wasn’t a good sign to your brain “All stiff and…” He continued; voice purposely teasingly “… Panting” He added, a hint of amusement under his tone.

    “Stop joking around…” You managed to say, lips quivering as he chuckled huskily. Although you could feel his warmth and presence clearly, there was no inch of skin ─ except his chin making its way to rest on your shoulder ─ to seal the deal. It felt intimate yet distant… It felt like you were supposed to laugh it off but you didn’t want to.

    “It doesn’t need to be a j—“ He couldn’t finish what he was going to say, interrupted by a gasp that had both of your heads snapping at the side. There, facing the aisle with mouth fully agape and widened eyes, was someone who was bound to spread some more rumors around.

    “I-I’m sorry” They blurted out “I-I didn’t mean to interrupt” They rushed to say, clearing their throat before turning around, utterly flustered by what they thought to have witnessed. You groaned, resting your forehead on the shelf before flicking Hyunjin’s nose, pushing him away for you to look for a new book.

    “Read this” You spat, shoving a random one into his hands.

                                                          ////

    Your thoughts were filled with Hyunjin.

    Although your eyes were fixed on the TV, you couldn’t care less about whatever was going on there. The voices sounded like a buzz in the back of your head and the image was almost too blurry for you to understand but Paris’ distinct laughter was a good cue for you to laugh at some joke you didn’t listen to. Whether it was your chuckle sounding too fake or too off time, she seemed to notice that something was going on inside your head.

    She didn’t even say anything, pausing the show before looking straight at you with a questioning look, arching her brow as she waited for you to say something. There was it… The two-path road. You could either tell her that it was nothing ─ and she would probably narrow her eyes at you until you made up a random excuse ─ or you could actually tell her what has been on your mind lately ─ and then you would have to put up with the insufferable Paris state.

    Too late to back off now… You should have paid attention to the show.

    You glanced at her ─ unsure about what to say or do at a moment like this ─, biting your lip as you blinked a few times to buy some time to decide what you were going to do. You knew Paris well enough to predict her reaction… As soon as you said that you have been thinking a lot about all those rumors, she would instantly assume that you were worrying over it because you had some suppressed feelings that you were trying to hide.

    You just knew it.

    “So…” She stressed, still staring at you “What’s going on inside that little box of yours?” She joked, pointing at her own head before hugging her knees, sitting across you on the couch.

  Path N° 1: The finals are right there at the corner…

  Path N° 2: I can’t understand where all those rumors are coming from… I didn’t do anything suspicious with Chan or Hyunjin and suddenly people are talking behind our back. Either I messed up really bad about something and didn’t notice or someone misunderstood something I did… Or maybe it could be because Hyunjin has been flirting a lot lately! He pinned me against the wall thrice already. Do you think this is strange? I’m finding it a little odd... Maybe I’m being too sensitive over useless st–

  “Y/N?” Paris called you softly, tilting her head to the other side as if it could help her to see what was going on in your mind “Are you feeling okay? You seem a little bit… Off… Today” She said carefully, studying your features for a brief moment.

  “I’ve been thinking about the rumors…” You began hesitantly, checking for her reaction “Don’t you find it strange? I mean… You and Hyunjin had your rumors before but I hadn’t been dragged into this until now” You pointed out, shrugging “I find it odd that people are talking about me and Chan out of nowhere and… Well, talking like I’m hooking up with Hyunjin behind your back” You explained.

  Paris didn’t say anything at first, seeming surprised by your worries.

  “Well…” She cleared her throat “I mean… I have heard some things about you and Chan around… And you kinda… Well—“ She licked her lips, visibly stiffening up as she thought about what to say “You know? Some people saw you guys at the library… And you guys keep calling each other sweety and stuff…” She floundered her hand in the air as if it helped her to express it better “And you gave him your keys… And he slept here the whole week…” She trailed off.

    “What the fuck?” You blurted, surprised by all this “How do they even know about this?!” You frowned, wondering how many people heard all those kinds of stuff out of context and got to build up a rumor like this.

    “Yeah… Well, you guys aren’t really subtle” She chuckled nervously “And I think that you shouldn’t really have said that you guys used to… Have sex…” She practically whispered the last part, ashamed to talk about it “Before, you know? Especially on a party” She cleared her throat once more, fixing herself on the couch.

    You had what now?

    “I never said that” You frowned “I never had sex with Chan… I-“ You scowled in disgust “Why would I ever have sex with Chan? We’re literally best friends! He’s like a brother to me or something… Ew” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head to get rid of the thought “What made you think I had sex with him? What the fuck?” it would be an understatement to say that you were flabbergasted.

    “Well… You kinda did” She arched her brow, looking at you filled with confusion “You told us you used to hook up with Chan, remember?” She asked as if she was talking to a kid “At the party, you clearly said that you used to hook up with him…” She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows matter-of-factly, almost as if she was trying to transfer her memories to you.

    “No, I most definitely didn’t say this” You grimaced at her, finding all the situation kinda odd, “I said I hooked up with Chan’s friend” You emphasized, returning the look to her “I would never say I hooked up with him… You distorting what I said” You blinked, staring at her in confusion as she gasped.

    “Oh! It was Chan’s friend!” She chortled “Well, so you should roast Chan! He interrupted you, and I think everyone understood the very same as me” She huffed, seeming to find the situation amusing “Oh my God… I’m pretty sure that was what triggered the rumors about you and Chan, to be honest” She mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

    “I can’t believe you guys thought—“ You sighed in resignation “Well… Anyway, I’m not dating or fucking Chan” You said dismissively, already done with how all this had started “And what have you heard about Hyunjin? What started it all?” You deadpanned, waiting for some silly explanation once again.

  Paris stared blankly at you.

  “You’re kidding, right?” She sounded taken aback, looking at you as if you tried to make a bad joke. The way you stood silent, staring back at her in genuine curiosity, must have seemed really sincere because she chortled before answering you “Y/N, he literally kissed you at the stairs” She reminded you slowly, trying to get the words to sink into your head.

  She didn’t need to do much.

  You didn’t want to admit it ─ and you would refuse to for as long as you could ─ but that kiss… Fake kiss! That fake kiss… You couldn’t help but gulp down as you felt your senses being electrified just by the mention of it. How many times did you push aside that thought? How many times did you ignore the flickering thought in the back of your mind? How many times you could practically see him leaning in for a kiss?

  You licked your lips, biting them to restrain the turmoil inside your head.

  Of course, you weren’t blind… Hyunjin was a handsome piece of shit. You knew it even when you hated him. You knew it even when you didn’t want to acknowledge it… Even when you wanted to believe that it was just the popular opinion about him.

    Now, you couldn’t ignore how pretty he was.

    You weren’t quite sure if it was all in your mind ─ he did lean it too quickly for you to notice every single thing ─ but you could still feel the fire on his gaze as he made his move. You could remember how eager he was… Or at least, how eager you believed him to be as you were crushed against the wall and lost all the air inside your lungs. Was it just you being surprised? Was it the abruptness of the situation? Or did he really pin you against the wall as if his life depended on it? You surely felt like it was the last one… But could it be you the one who wanted to believe it for dear life?

    No, of course, not.

    The warmth of his hands still lingered there on your skin from time to time, and the soft pressure in your lips seemed to be carved at the back of your mind. You hated that sometimes you pressed your lips with your thumb ─ the same pressure though not the same way he did ─ just to snap out of it a second too late. You also couldn’t forget the way he tilted his head to deepen a kiss that didn’t really happen… The way the realization washed over you right at that second.

    It wasn’t disappointment… It was something else.

    You could still feel how his touch changed on that second… The hold was firm and consistent… It was like he didn’t want to let you go; like something just switched on his head and triggered something that felt so much like… You gulped down once more, still refusing to stress that thought out. The way your breaths mingled and hitched… Faltered… It was almost painful to know that it didn’t really happen.

    There was it…

    Desire and passion.

    The urges of a single woman who hadn’t been getting some in a while.

    “It was a fake kiss” You finally answered her but by now, Paris knew too damn well where your thoughts were wandering around a second earlier.

    “Yeah, but it seemed pretty real for anyone who took a glance at it” She reminded you, and the suggestive hint under her tone made you scoff “And I don’t want to say it—“

    “Then just don’t” You grimaced at her.

    “—But I think both of you were pretty into it even for a fake kiss…” She grinned at you teasingly, and the tired sigh that left your lips seemed to fuel her “I can remember quite well how you just let your hands right on his chest… I don’t recall you pushing him away, you know?” her grin spread all over her face “I think you enjoyed feeling him under your touch a whole lot…” She raised her eyebrows, throwing you a knowing look that made you huff, rubbing your face in distress.

    Why did she have to say that?!

    You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the memories that you didn’t need to have right now… So what if his chest felt so warm and firm under his shirt? So damn fine under your touch? What about the way the water droplets seemed to caress his tanned skin? So what if the very same droplets must have rolled down and down and down and… Well, all the way down from his throat to his collarbone to his chest to… You couldn’t help but lick your lips, shaking your head to dismiss the thought.

    It didn’t matter.

    The way he bought you coffee and waited for you on Monday? It didn’t matter. The way his damp hair gave him a sexy vibe that looked like a plead for being warmed up on a cold Tuesday? It didn’t matter. The way he was trying to impress you with good food? It didn’t matter. The way he kept visiting you at your work to ask for indications? It didn’t matter. The way he kept flirting and teasing you around? It didn’t matter.

  None of it mattered because Hyunjin had been pretty clear before.

  He wanted you as a friend.

  A good friend.

   “I think…” You trailed off, darting your eyes away from her “I may…” You gulped down, reconnecting your gazes before sighing heavily “I guess I’m feeling attracted to him…” You admitted.

    It probably wasn’t the reaction she was expecting because Paris just let her mouth hang open as her eyes widened, utterly in shock to hear it coming out of your mouth. You pursed your lips, feeling kinda embarrassed by her reaction, averting your gaze once more as you played with your own fingers, refusing to look at her. Was it that strange for you to feel… Well, some kind of silly attraction towards your stupidly handsome friend?

    You didn’t think so.

    “You don’t need to be so surprised… It’s not like I’m a criminal or something” You muttered, peeking at her for a split of a second before focusing on your hands once more “I think the fake kiss kinda… Awoke something? Like a tiny little spark or something… Nothing too important or any—“ You were just rambling at this point.

    “No!” She blurted, hands waving exaggeratedly in front of her body “I mean- Yes! I’m not… I mean… It’s not that I’m shocked, I’m just…” She floundered her hands around, trying to find the right words in her mind “I think it’s great!” She chortled “Oh my God… Yeah, I think it’s great! It’s great that you have a crush on him or something!” She chirped, and you couldn’t help but frown.

    “How is it great?” You asked warily “We’re literally just friends and he’s the hugest fuckboy we had ever met” You reminded her “There is nothing great in it… Actually, I think that’s the worst thought my brain had ever had” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

    “He’s not that bad!” She retorted eagerly “He’s actually really sweet!” She added quickly, trying to convince you as she patted your knee “I mean… He’s smart! Isn’t he? You guys are always arguing in class!” You arched your brow at the distorted way to boost him “He also has good grades! I know you like smart guys” She threw you an insistent look.

  Well… You were not so sure the attraction had much to do with his brains.

    “He’s also really funny! You’re always laughing at things he says!” She kept her monologue “He also likes the foods you like! He’s always spending time at the hot dog stand! He even knows your favorite food by now!” She was so excited at all this that it was almost like she was selling him to you “He has an amazing taste for TV shows! I can testify that” She smiled proudly “And he’s also interested in your things! He’s reading the books you like and everything!”

    Yeah… She kinda had a point, to be honest.

    “You said yourself that he had been flirting! So… I mean- It has to mean something, right?” She asked filled with hope, looking at you expectantly “He wouldn’t flirt with someone he doesn’t like! So to the very least, he likes you!” She clasped her hands together, excited.

    “He has been flirting with me even when we hated each other” You pointed out skeptically, and she groaned in frustration.

    “Okay! He’s a fuckboy, I get it! Flirting is what he does” She rolled her eyes, impatient “But he hasn’t been fucking anyone for a while! He has a crush on someone and he’s being really romantic about it!” She insisted, making your chortle.

    “Yeah… Because not fucking people around when you like someone is a great romantic gesture” You sneered “You sound too… Eager to make your point” You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head in suspicion “You’re not being the usual…” You cleared your throat to imitate her “I ship you guys so much!” You chirped mockingly, clapping your hands repeatedly in a short and rapid motion “You’re… Did he tell your something?” You asked curiously.

  “What are you talking about?!” She asked in a high-pitched tone, snorting in a too anxious way to be natural “It’s just that you’ve never shown interest in anyone before! I’m excited!” She dismissed your thought, waving her hand at you “I’ve been waiting for this! The day you would talk to me about boys and stuff like this!” She whined, and for a moment she really did sound sincere enough for you to believe her.

    “It doesn’t matter anyway” You shrugged “You said so yourself… He’s been crushing on someone” You pointed out, uncrossing your arms and returning your gaze to the TV “Also, it’s not like I want to fuck him… Too much trouble, right? I know he isn’t the type to attach… He wouldn’t risk our friendship just to get his dick wet” You reasoned.

    “What if he’s crushing on you?” She asked unsurely, glancing at you.

    “Yeah, right!” You just laughed it off, gesturing for her to hit the play.

[quidfree]

prompts,.,, fem tdbk and a date gone very wrong ? ❤️

ohhhh my god anon. pump this shit directly into my veins i love this whole premise let’s go. also all inspired by whatever the fuck horikoshi was doing in this 

just so everyone is on the same page here, it is not a fucking date.

it’s lunch. a singular lunch. people do that shit all the time. even katsuki does lunch, sometimes. she went to that semi-shitty diner place with kirishima that one time when the food hall was shut because some dumbass first year exploded into goo or whatever. and todoroki does lunch, too- her and deku were on some shitty lunch date like a week ago, as evidenced by deku’s even shittier selfie of them having a grand old time doing whatever the fuck they do alone.

fuck, not a shitty lunch date. a shitty lunch. whatever.

the point is lunch is a normal non-date thing people do, and the fact katsuki and todoroki are maybe not the usual suspects for it is just circumstantial. it’s not like they planned it ahead of time, or made some big thing about it. they literally arranged for it in public, so obviously todoroki didn’t think there was anything weird about it. and there isn’t! they’re both going to be in tokyo on the same day, and todoroki’s always happy for any excuse to spend less time with her old man, and katsuki sure as fuck wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to avoid her hag of a birth-giver for a few blissful hours, so when todoroki had very nonchalantly gone ‘oh, bakugou, we could do lunch then”, it wasn’t like she had any real reason to tell her to go fuck herself. like, yeah, maybe a year ago, on principle, she would have, but even katsuki can only take so much trauma-bonding before she resigns herself to the reality that she’s stuck with half ‘n half for life, one way or another, and she may as well suck it up and approach civility because said moron is determined to ignore her open malice until she plays along anyways. they’re... you know, whatever. friends. or something. jesus.

the point being that it’s not a date, and the fact that she’s getting increasingly annoyed at her limited wardrobe is just because she would have packed more shit if the crone hadn’t insisted that they ‘pack light’ so they could get cheaper train tickets for less luggage. it’s just annoying that she can’t wear anything that’s not screaming holiday.

it occurs to her as she sits and scowls at her suitcase that her mother has been watching her from the doorframe for some undetermined amount of time, which is criminal mainly because she’s a goddamn hero-to-be and getting snuck up on by anyone is a blight upon her good name. she tries to disguise the ego damage dealt by glowering murderously in her progenitor’s direction.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“you know,” the she-devil says, cocking a hip, “if you want to borrow something nicer...”

“i wouldn’t be caught dead in your shitty clothes!” katsuki snarls, which prompts the witch to immediately scowl back.

“watch your damn mouth!”

“watch your waistline! no way in hell are we the same size!”

“why you little-”

the interruption at least reminds her that she is obsessing over her clothes ahead of meeting todoroki for lunch, which is so humiliating it kickstarts her brain again long enough to grab some normal shit and get the hell out of there.

on the walk she checks her phone again. the previous day she’d had to bite the bullet and make the first move, todoroki’s infamously terrible communication skills making themselves known once more, and their ensuing conversation had been so mortifying she’d nearly cancelled all-together.

to: Half ‘n half

Yo asshole are we still meeting tomorrow or what

I’m busy as shit

from: Half ‘n half

Yes. TS

to: Half ‘n half

What the fuck is TS

from: Half ‘n half

I was signing off.

to: Half ‘n half

SIGNING OFF ON YOUR OWN TEXT

YOU THINK I DONT KNOW YOUR DAMN NAME

from: Half ‘n half

[Pin attached]

Does here at 12.30 work for you?

to: Half ‘n half

Yeah whatever

Don’t be late

And don’t think I’m forgetting the fucking signing off thing

from: Half ‘n half

Glad you can make time for mockery in your busy as shit schedule.

the venue looks like some rich person shit, which she semi-expected, but it means a lot of people give her weird looks as she makes her way inside, probably on account of the shorts and t-shirt she’s wearing if not her general vibe. some old woman actually drags her purse to her, which makes katsuki sorely tempted to bare her teeth and maybe hiss for effect, though she settles for scowling and shoving her hands in her pockets. it’s 12.27, because she wasn’t going to be late but being any earlier would have given off some dubious impression that she’s eager to see todoroki, except now she kind of wishes she’d just come for 12.30 because if there’s some reservation bullshit she gets the feeling she’s going to start fighting with the waiting staff, and then-

“bakugou,” todoroki calls, from inside, raising a hand with unnecessary formality. “you made it.”

“course i made it,” katsuki grunts, absolutely not relieved as she by-passes the suspicious looking waiter to join her outside. “think i can’t ride the damn underground by myself?”

todoroki is wearing jeans cuffed at the ankles and a white t-shirt on top of which she’s thrown on an open button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and she looks casual and normal and incidentally kind of like they dressed to match, but the important part is that she doesn’t look dressed up at all, so katsuki was totally right about the non-date situation, and also isn’t the only one totally underdressed for the shitty venue.

“you look nice,” todoroki says then, completely shattering katsuki’s brief moment of reprieve. “i’ve never seen so much color on you.”

katsuki almost chokes on her own tongue, but the worst part is that the asshole seems completely nonchalant about the weird as shit observation, focused on her stool as she takes a seat on the balcony. which- what the actual fuck? since when does todoroki issue compliments unprompted- of the non-professional variety, at that? and what the fuck does she expect katsuki to say now- return the compliment? say thanks? is this whole thing some kind of exercise in psychological torture?

well, fuck it. she can’t look like a little bitch just because todoroki said something inanely positive. two can play that game.

“yeah. you look half decent yourself. did you hire someone to dress you for the occasion?”

todoroki blinks up at her in surprise, which is totally a win and would make her more smug if she could stop feeling so weird and prickly all over. for a dangerous moment todoroki seems on the verge of blushing, but miraculously the world rights itself and the usual deadpan persists, one brow quirking up in completely feigned ineptitude.

“there was a compliment somewhere in there, so thank you, i think. i thought we were past this vendetta.”

“we’ll be past this vendetta the day you burn your piece of shit hero suit,” katsuki retorts, back on familiar ground, and relaxes long enough to squint down at the menu.

this turns out to be a mistake.

“the fuck? is this whole thing in french?”

“oh,” todoroki says, after a beat. “that makes sense. i thought my english had deteriorated.”

“are you- you didn’t know? you recommended the place!”

“it was the nearest place to our hotel,” todoroki defends, now having the decency of looking slightly put out. “coq can’t mean what i think it means, can it?”

“that’s chicken, asshole,” katsuki hisses, flinging the menu down. “great, now we’re going to have to flag down one of the shithead waiters and ask for a japanese menu. excuse me! hey! yeah, i’m talking to- what the hell, did he just blow me off? hey, jackass! you with the shitty mustache!”

“sorry about that,” todoroki interjects, when mustache asshole turns an offended stare their way. “do you have the japanese menu?”

“we only serve the food in its authentic form,” mustachioed asshole says, with frigid self-satisfaction. “might i suggest google translate?”

“might i suggest my foot up your ass, you shitty-”

“that’s fine,” todoroki says, in a flat tone that implies otherwise. “we’ll make do.”

the waiter sniffs pretentiously as katsuki thinks about all the ways she could beat his ass into next tuesday, running an aggravated hand through her hair when the wind rustles it into her face. she’d half expect todoroki to suggest they fuck off elsewhere, but when she looks back her way she finds an ill-boding gleam of determination in her eyes despite the impassive set to her face, and it’s a testament to how fucked in the head ua has made katsuki that she feels a sort of sick thrill of recognition at the sight. todoroki’s in stubborn bitch mode.

“i’ll have this,” todoroki says, sure enough, pointing to the most expensive item on the menu. “and also this. and one of those.”

the waiter’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, and todoroki looks unfazed in katsuki’s direction, tapping pointedly at a sleek black and red credit card in her wallet. “bakugou?”

well, if endeavour’s paying....

“sure,” katsuki says, slowly, and then turns her meanest smile the waiter’s way. “i want the frog legs.”

mustache clears his throat, attempts condescension. “we don’t serve that here.”

“you’re a gastronomique restaurant,” katsuki says very loudly, as other clients turn to stare, “and you don’t have fucking frog legs? is this a joke? does this napkin say authentic french cuisine or am i hallucinating?”

“i can ask the chef,” the waiter demurs, casting a nervous glance at the muttering snobs nearby, and attempts an ingratiating smile. “anything else for you, mademoiselle?”

“what did you just call me?”

once the ordering debacle is over, todoroki slants katsuki what may well be an apologetic glance, vaguely contrite frown sitting pretty atop her usual dead-eyed stare.

“i probably should have read up on the place ahead of time.”

katsuki is well within her rights to chew her head off, she thinks, but food’s on the way and she got to yell at the asshole who gave her the once-over when she came in, so she’s feeling forgiving, even in the face of todoroki’s annoyingly doll-faced apology. the bitch really has to do the bare minimum and she looks like a fucking kpop idol.

“yeah, whatever. i always knew you were a shitty ops planner.”

todoroki, who is an asshole, looks relieved at her generous forgiveness for all of a second before she quirks a brow. “between the two of us, i only count one person who has actually spoken the words ‘shoot first, ask questions later’.”

“that was in a training simulation,” katsuki protests, outraged. “and you know damn well the actors were annoying as shit!”

“i did find them slightly too committed to the role,” todoroki concedes neutrally, which totally means she agrees with katsuki 100% and is being precious about it. katsuki scoffs.

“least the view’s decent.”

“the-“ todoroki starts, in weirdly confused tones, until she follows katsuki’s gaze outward and nods in understanding. “oh, the skyline. yes.”

what else katsuki could have meant she doesn’t fucking know: they’re sitting pretty in the middle of tokyo. the only thing the hellhole of a restaurant has going for it at this point is the cityscape.

todoroki stares out into the distance for a good long moment, and with the breeze her negligently loose hair whips this way and that, red and white blur where the two halves mingle. instinctively katsuki itches to braid it flat so it doesn’t tangle. if todoroki asked her she’d tell her to just cut her damn hair into a bob or something- it’s not like icyhot has any attachment to her princess hair, and she’s got the obnoxious bone structure to pull off any length. not that she’d mention this last part. or that she’s given it much thought. it’s just fucking obvious.

if todoroki could keep her mouth shut throughout the rest of the meal, it could be sort of nice. tokyo skyline, and companionable silence, and presumably edible food. worse ways to kill some time, and way less incriminating than anything that may be said otherwise.

“i think this is the part where we make small talk,” todoroki says instead, sadist that she definitely is, as katsuki grimaces feelingly her way.

“no, we don’t.”

“well, we don’t. but this is the part where we should.”

“i don’t even believe you can last a minute of small talk, icyhot.”

todoroki looks pensive, mismatched eyes thoughtful. “...how has your day been?”

“uneventful,” katsuki says, combative, and eyes her watch. todoroki does not give.

“this place seems nice.”

“you don’t even think that.”

“how have you been finding tokyo?”

“noisy.”

“the weather seems-”

“no.”

“you look nice.”

“you said that already, dumbass,” katsuki grunts, palms crackling with sweat, and does not at all read into the way todoroki makes a stupid little movement with her mouth that could ungenerously be interpreted as a pout.

“well, i meant it, so i’m saying it twice.”

“give it up, half ‘n half, just ask me about training.”

“...how is your training?”

“i did this thing yesterday,” katsuki starts, leaning back in her chair, and from then launches into a very technical and barely exaggerated retelling of the batshit insane stunt she pulled off with her quirk the day prior. todoroki’s focused attention is gratifying, in a totally platonic non-weird way- it’s just that her parents couldn’t very well follow why exactly said stunt was as insane as it is, but todoroki obviously can, and also there’s that thing with todoroki where pulling a reaction out of her ice queen act is admittedly more satisfying than most people. it has jack shit to do with the fact katsuki’s got a very minor complex about todoroki paying her her dues, and even if it did then that’s entirely fucking reasonable considering she still hasn’t forgiven her for the sports fest incident. 

it is a little weird having todoroki’s sole focus on her outside of hero shit, though. it’s not like they really hang out one on one outside of school or work. it’s kind of- unnerving. yeah. unnerving, to be making prolonged eye contact, todoroki’s expression intent but not intense the way she gets in fight scenarios, frowning lightly because she has resting bitch face but apparently genuinely interested. it’s kind of a relief that todoroki asks questions- moves them safely into a conversation, so katsuki’s not just sitting there talking and sort of dry-throated. fucking waiter, leaving them water-less.

it’s fine. they talk about training, and quirks, and then todoroki pushes her hair behind her ears and leans forward to demonstrate on a small scale this thing she’s trying to do where she melts her ice and refreezes it in rapid succession so it causes what is essentially ice rain, but there’s logistics and shit that need to be worked out for it to work the way she’s thinking it might, and katsuki knows her thermal shit so they start scrawling maths over the napkins, and then bicker over the finer points of first year chemistry, so when the food actually arrives to interrupt them todoroki’s startled blink is weirdly relatable, like she also forgot where they were.

the waiter’s there and gone before they’re really recovered from the brief misplacement, which katsuki registers only when she looks down at her empty glass.

“goddamnit- how hard is it to bring us water?”

“they only offer sparkling,” todoroki says, gravely, then outpaces katsuki’s disgust by placing her hand over her glass, ice rising before she switches hands and melts it down. “tell me if the temperature’s off.”

intensely mollified and trying not to look it, katsuki sips it. “’s fine.”

“okay,” todoroki says, faintly pleased, and tilts her head to look down at her food. “i have no idea what any of this is.”

“moron,” katsuki snorts, except it comes out way fonder than it has any rights to, and from beneath the convenient curtain of hair todoroki’s smiling a little, so she hastily stabs a frog leg and gets to eating before anyone gets any ideas.

the actual meal goes okay-ish. most of the stuff todoroki ordered is extremely pretentious french cuisine, and todoroki secretly has the culinary adventurousness of a five year old, so it befalls katsuki to impatiently attempt every dish and pronounce it edible before todoroki will deign to brave it. she’s still trying to bully an unyielding todoroki into attempting the weird bird soup thing when there’s commotion nearby. it takes the both of them approximately three seconds to spring into work-mode; katsuki’s on her feet poised for a fight before she’s even consciously thought about it, scanning her peripherals, and she doesn’t even need to look to feel todoroki unconsciously covering her back, cool sting of air signalling her quirk at the ready. 

the commotion turns out just to be some old dumbass choking, relaxing them both out of their stances as she falls back to let todoroki ahead. they’re both uber-qualified for first aid shit, but she’s self-aware enough to know even todoroki’s bland reassurances are usually preferred to her bedside manner. unfortunately, the whole entourage seems to be braindead, because they’re all crowding the old guy in a panic while he chokes, his wife in shrieking hysterics.

“oh, my god, he’s choking! he’s choking! sugar-plum, stay with me!”

“fuck me,” katsuki mutters, unethically thinking that she would personally prefer choking to being married to someone who calls her sugar-plum, but todoroki’s pushing ahead with implacable calm, so she trudges after her anyways.

“excuse me. excuse me. i need access to your husband.”

“who are you? don’t touch him! help! get this woman off my husband!” wailing hysteric yells, bosom heaving dramatically. katsuki is starting to suspect she poisoned him on purpose or some shit, because no way does anyone talk like that in real life.

“she’s a fucking qualified first aid provider, lady, shut up and let her through!”

thankfully, the woman seems on the verge of an outrage aneurysm, which drags her focus away from suffocating her choking husband to dramatically pointing at katsuki long enough for todoroki to duck past her and reach the guy as he turns purple.

“how dare you speak to me that way? who do you think you are?”

“ma,” chinless moron number one says, clearing his throat. “i think that’s one of those future pros from TV.”

“what?”

“you know, ma,” chinless moron number two adds, glancing nervously between them. “the one that explodes things. you know. from UA.”

katsuki takes great pleasure in watching recognition dawn in the old cow’s beady eyes, but in any event there’s a hacking noise and then the old man’s coughing out a bone into his plate as todoroki steps noiselessly back from the table.

“he’s fine now. enjoy your dinner.”

“god, that was gross,” katsuki says, as they ignore the woman’s sputtering and return to their seats. todoroki tilts her head. 

“not really. if he’d thrown up it would have been.”

“not the choking guy,” katsuki scoffs, casting a glance back his way. “his wife. talk about theatrics.”

“she seemed more afraid of us than her husband dying.”

“for good reason,” katsuki mutters darkly, spreading out in her chair. “i hate civilians.”

“i don’t think she recognised us,” todoroki counters, pensive, and absent-mindedly takes a bite of the weird soup before she screws her face up like a betrayed kid. “oh. you didn’t say it was sweet.”

the look on her face thoroughly distracts katsuki from asking what other reason the pearl-clutcher could possibly have to be so terrified at the mere sight of them; instead, she chokes back a laugh, stifling a grin. “what are you, five?”

“i don’t think i like this,” todoroki says, mournful, which makes katsuki grin harder. she can’t help it- todoroki looking stupid is her kryptonite. 

“then don’t pick a restaurant where you can’t read the menu, next time.”

todoroki’s midway to looking up, but for some reason her expression transforms instantaneously, which makes katsuki reflexively try to quash her amusement. todoroki always gets weird when she’s smiling. 

“next time?”

motherfuck. obviously she didn’t mean next time like next time, she meant next time like- hypothetically, in the future, when todoroki’s on a lunch date with someone else. a lunch non-date. she’s just about stopped sputtering furiously long enough to try and express this sentiment when it occurs to her that todoroki seems- pleased, one eye soft sky-blue when katsuki accidentally meets it, and that draws her up short long enough that she ends up just muttering lamely to herself. fucking todoroki. 

on the heels of this utter embarrassment, she downs the rest of her water, scowls in a neat 180 at everything in sight, and wonders for the first time in her life how the fuck extras get through dates. not that this is one.

it’s fine. they’re done eating, and no one’s died, and katsuki is no longer fifteen and thus mostly trusts her ego to lick its wounds and recover from the ordeal. even if they stick around for desert that’s only another half hour of this to endure. as long as todoroki doesn’t make any sudden moves they’ll be fine.

...the problem is, of course, that sudden moves are todoroki’s modus operandi. katsuki has not forgotten the bitch calling them friends on national television in the same breath that she was vociferously denying them being anything of the sort. in todoroki’s fucked up brain, they’re always ten steps ahead of whatever they actually are- considering katsuki’s come around to privately acknowledging she’d take a couple more stakes through the gut for the asshole, in todoroki’s world they're practically hitched.

platonically. platonically practically hitched. this is not a thing, goddamnit. no matter the weird looks aizawa’s been giving them, or utsushimi’s nefarious schemes, or the alarming cardiopulmonary condition katsuki’s been developing of late. she’s not some shitty yuri protagonist pining over the nearest female bishōnen in her vicinity.

admittedly if she was to pine over anyone it sure as fuck wouldn’t be some guy, but that’s besides the point, since pretty damn near every person on earth is just some guy by her standards, regardless of gender. the fact that todoroki is not one of said people is entirely irrelevant.

her internal irritation is so distracting that she misses the tremors nearby until entirely too late, by which point todoroki’s stupidly perfect brows raise an incremental fraction and she goes: ‘oh’.

when todoroki goes ‘oh’, some shit is about to go down. 

katsuki turns slowly with an impending sense of doom, and sure enough, the sight that greets her is so nightmarish she seriously reconsiders whether the entire day has been just that. 

“don’t freak out,” a giant building-sized deku booms, apologetically, as his hideous giant face stares at them. “it’s just a quirk thing.”

it’s probably a good thing katsuki has gone speechless with outrage, since it permits todoroki’s constantly composed ass to ask useful questions katsuki probably would have coated in a fair amount more threats and cursing.

“midoriya. i didn’t know you were in tokyo.”

“well, i wasn’t meant to be,” deku says/booms like a foghorn, as the restaurant clientele shrieks and stampedes behind them. his sheepish expression is even more punchable when magnified. “it’s a long story. it’s almost sorted out now, though. i just saw you guys from over at the NPA office and thought i’d come ask if you maybe wouldn’t mind lending a hand? i wouldn’t ask but there’s going to be a lot of cleanup and your quirks would be really helpful to-”

“we’ll do it as long as you shut the fuck up,” katsuki yells, to cut him off, massaging her temples. “the monologuing’s bad enough when you’re not about to burst my fucking eardrums, jackass.”

“oh, sorry! i’m trying to be very quiet but this body’s just hard to get used to- thank you so much for helping, i didn’t mean to come bother you on break...”

“it’s fine,” todoroki says, and then seems to realise that her monotone doesn’t reach midoriya’s giant-ass ears and clears her throat, raising her voice to a shout. “it’s fine. let me go deal with the bill and then we’ll go.”

“sorry?” midoriya whisper-shouts, craning his monstrous head closer to them, the sight of which will haunt katsuki for the rest of her life. “i can’t hear what you’re saying!”

“she said she’s going to go pay for our nice fucking lunch,” katsuki hollers, with no small sense of satisfaction, as deku winces and todoroki slinks off. “since you want to come crashing it like a dipshit.”

“sorry, kacchan!” deku begs off, flapping hand gestures creating enough wind to knock over a nearby umbrella stand. “i just thought it would be a lot of help if you came to oversee the fall-out- especially with the building damage-”

“we’re good,” todoroki announces, to katsuki, apparently having given up on matching her in decibels. she’s got that classic hero look on her face, already in work mode, but just when katsuki’s about to do the same and jump into action, the look wavers a little and she frowns vaguely awkwardly. “thanks for doing lunch.”

“huh?” katsuki stutters, thrown, and then scowls at nothing in particular, stalling. todoroki’s the one who paid, albeit indirectly- it’s typically weird of her to be all formal about it all of a sudden, leaving katsuki to attempt to wriggle them out of the awkwardness of the moment. “i didn’t do shit except show up and eat, weirdo.”

“it’s been abnormally hard to show up and eat in the circumstances,” todoroki replies, a little wryly, and more concerningly a little resigned sounding. which is just unnatural, because todoroki may have expanded her range of emotions considerably since first year but resignation is not on her usual roster, and there’s nothing to be resigned about unless she had some kind of vested interest in this whole fiasco playing out any better than it did.

which she didn’t, obviously. katsuki’s been through this. she chose the nearest possible venue and rocked up in jeans and a t-shirt, and- and why is the fact that todoroki never dresses so normally out of class only now occurring to her, again?

she’d said ‘i think this is the part where we do small talk’. the part of what?

“yeah, whatever,” katsuki says, automatically, as her brain plays catch-up, which is the excuse she will forever stick to for what leaves her mouth next. “should have known you’d be a lousy date.”

todoroki goes ‘what?’ at the same moment deku does, ten times louder and more bug-eyed, which reminds katsuki that 1) deku is still there, 2) deku is still as big as his martyr complex, and 3) deku is the fucking worst, and allowing him to trap her into friendship is somehow responsible for this, she’s sure of it. 

“can we go handle this fucking mess or what?” katsuki snaps, instead of screaming or breaking deku’s very large nose or maybe self-immolating in abject humiliation, hands erupting into explosions as she jumps onto the balcony railing. maybe if she throws herself headfirst into the debris she’ll concuss herself and turn amnesiac. 

“um,” deku is saying, when she turns a withering glare his way. “um, yes! yes! yeah! let’s go do that!”

so she jumps skywards, explosions blasting her high into the air, and very scrupulously does not look towards the sounds of slick ice forming just behind her until todoroki skates into her peripheral vision, hair waving flag-like behind her. ahead there’s a building with a crater clean through it where deku must have erupted from, though when she turns to comment she finds him a fair deal behind them, lumbering pace slowed further as he avoids stepping on anyone or anything along the streets. instead her eyes lock on todoroki’s where the latter is staring at her, face unreadable, and she bristles hard enough to disrupt trajectory, correcting course rapidly before she plummets into an office.

“what?”

“i’m a lousy date,” todoroki repeats, neutrally, over the wind. katsuki grits her teeth.

“and what about it?”

she’s bracing for a lot, but not the horrible, sickening eye-crinkle thing todoroki does, dark eye twinkling even as her expression stays carefully impassive. “you think you can do better, then?”

“hah?”

“next time,” todoroki intones, very precisely, and then dips ahead like a complete coward as katsuki goes a color never previously visible to the human eye, sifting through about fifteen emotions before she decides to stick to outrage.

“what the hell? you suck at asking people out, icyhot!”

“you don’t have to say yes.”

“what, you think i can’t do better than this mess? you’re on, asshole.”

“i look forward to it,” todoroki says, gravely, and then there’s a collapsed building to handle and shit to do and if anyone wants to ask why katsuki is so especially gleeful in blowing shit up they wisely keep their mouths shut. she just likes the job, all right.

(for the record, it’s still not a date until katsuki says it is.)

[dilf-hater-blog]

Invisible Lives (s.r. x fem!reader)

(age gap, reader being dense as hell, awkward tension, only one bed cliché)

Summary: Pairing two of the most average-looking Avengers seemed like a good plan on pen and paper, but when asked to pose as a couple, it seems as if God was finally telling Steve to admit his feelings towards you. (2.5k words)

a/n: there WILL be a part 2! stay tuned :]

“Alright you two, do we need to go over it one more time?” Tony asks and your consciousness felt like it wasn’t in your body.

“Okay! It looks like we need to go over the mission AGAIN. Pay attention this time.” he calls out your name and looks at you

“Sorry.” He just nods and suddenly, pictures show up on the screen.

“You and Capsicle will go undercover here.” he points to the screen and the picture enlarges, “It’s a remote village in France, we think HYDRA has a facility right under this house over here.” a red circle appears beside a house in a somewhat suburban area. “And you, our lovely couple, shall stay over here.” he points to the house right beside the encircled one.

Steve looks over at you and squints his eyes “Are you getting all of this?”

“Uhh yeah, I just...we’re staying right beside them?” “Pretty much, just you and Rogers alone in a house while an evil terrorist organization is RIGHT beside you guys-”

“Tony.” The disappointment in Steve’s voice was evident and Tony rolls his eyes, “We’re a call away kid, we’ll be in the neighboring city. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

You let out a shaky breath and both men look over at you “You’ll do fine, now, we have to go over your roles.” Steve’s and your picture show up on the screen with text right beside it.

“Rogers, your name would be George Blaine. You’re 32 and you like...I don’t know, history books?” you burst out laughing and when they both look at you, you clear your throat.

“Your name would be Ivy Webster, and you can both thank fake name generators for those. Ivy Webster is 20 and-”

“Why do they have such a big age gap?” Steve questions.

“Makes them focus on something else other than asking more questions.”

“Carry on.” “You’re both in a relationship.” Your heart drops and your eyes dart over to Steve, he’s fidgety and he keeps crossing and uncrossing his arms.

“Tony, you said we were playing siblings?” “Last minute change of plans, it’ll be a lot more convincing if you play lovers-“ while he’s talking, he walks over to a side table and opens a drawer.

“Here are the promise rings and do take care of those.” Tony hands a ring to Steve and you, you wear it on your left hand’s ring finger.

“Just remember, no storming their base, no blowing of covers, act casual and just do whatever you guys do. We leave in 3 hours.”

♡

“Act normal, we’ll be fine.” you chant like a mantra while you’re folding clothes and placing them in your luggage. A knock sounds “Mr. Rogers is at your door, should I let him in?” “Yes FRIDAY, thank you.”

Steve gives you a tight-lipped smile while he walks over to sit at your bed.

“You feeling okay?”

“No, I’m anxious and scared and-” You let out an exasperated sigh

“Why?” You stop to think.

“I...it’s my first time going undercover like this, and HYDRA would just be right beside us and-”

“Doll, you have nothing to worry about, not while I’m there with you.” Steve cuts you off and you give each other a tight-lipped smile “and besides, Tony did say act natural, you’ll be fine doll.” he leaves the room and you lay sprawled out on your bed.

You close your eyes and steady your breathing, everything you need is in your suitcase, you’ll be safe, there will be a terrorist organization right beside you, you and Steve will pretend to be lovers-

Your breathing quickens and your heart rate speeds up, your palms sweat and suddenly there’s a bang on the door. “Kid come on! Let’s go! Meet-up was 30 minutes ago!” fuck, did the time go by THAT fast? You grab your suitcase, and your extra bags; the door slides open, and Tony glances over at you, “Kid, this is an undercover mission, you look like you’re going to the Bahamas.” you try to suppress the urge to laugh but you burst out laughing.

“Sorry, Tony.” you apologize.

“Nah kid it’s alright, I just noticed you were nervous so I had to do something.”

“Thanks.” He pats you on the back and walks you over to the quinjet.

The door opens and you’re greeted with some of the Avengers just sitting around, “Glad to see you’re early.” Nat suddenly speaks up behind you and you turn around.

“Sorry I-” “Was rehearsing about how your date with Steve is gonna go?” Sam cuts you off and Steve pipes up from the cockpit “Come on, stop harassing the poor girl, she’s gonna go into shock if you keep teasing her.” you mouth out an ‘it’s fine’ to Sam and Nat and they smile at you, Sam suddenly makes his way past you and to the Captain.

“You two are gonna play LOVERS, all ALONE in a house...might as well tell the poor girl what you’re FEELING.” you could hear Sam’s voice all the way from the back and then you hear Steve’s shushing “Will you keep it down?” he whisper-shouts and Nat giggles.

“What’s Steve feeling? Is he nervous too?” you ask her and Nat just laughs harder.

“What? What is it?!” You start to panic and Tony pats you on the back “Alright! We’re ready to go!” He claps his hands and you sit down and buckle in while everyone else does the same.

Tony sits by the cockpit and the telltale feelings of nervousness disappear.

♡

You wake up to a feeling on your shoulder and Nat smiles at you. “Is she up now?” Tony looks behind him and you give him a thumbs up. Steve walks over to you and smiles down at you, he unbuckles your seatbelt and he offers his hand, you take it and he pulls you up.

Tony stands up from his seat in the cockpit and walks over to you, “Okay, we’ll drop you off at a safehouse. From there you are officially George Blaine and Ivy Webster, you’ll use these-” he hands both of you fake passports and IDs “-and the house telephone immediately connects you to us.” Steve nods.

“How will we get to the house?” you ask and everybody turns toward you.

“Oh, Capsicle is driving you guys. It’s not like the old man can’t drive.” everybody snickers except for Steve who has somewhat of a disappointed smile on his face. “Go fix up, we’re landing in 3.”

The plane shakes and you almost fall but a pair of arms stop you from colliding face-first with the ground “Easy does it.” Steve sits you back down and Tony turns his chair towards you, “We haven’t even landed and you guys are already in love, gross.”

“Do you want me to call Pepper?” Nat asks and Tony’s eyes grow big.

“That’s what I thought, now, keep your eyes on the sky.” Tony turns his chair back around and you all laugh.

The quinjet descends and you feel a short period of moving around before you come to a complete stop. “You need to work on the landing Cap.” Sam remarks and Steve just sighs under his breath and mumbles “I know.”

You pull your luggage along and sling your extra bag onto your shoulder and the quinjet doors open. You’re greeted by Nick Fury and the rest of the Avengers.

“Hey doll!” someone exclaims and you squeal.

“Bucky!” he picks you up with ease and spins you around.

“How was the flight?” “It was okay.” he nods and calls Steve over, they shake hands and start a conversation, you see Wanda and Nat talking so you decided to go over to them.

“Oh hey!” Wanda gives you a hug and whispers in your ear, “You’ll be fine right?” “Yes mom, I’ll be alright.” we all burst out in laughter until Nick Fury calls everyone over.

“I don’t want anyone blowing their covers, got it?” everyone simultaneously nods “We’re here for recon, we’re NOT on vacation, are we clear?” everyone nods once again, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Blaine and Webster, go get ready.” both you and Steve nod and you pick up your bags. “I’ll help you doll.” Bucky carries your bags.

“Oh no! It’s fine.” you wave your hands in front of you and Bucky just shakes his head.

“It’s alright doll, I insist.” he gives you a warm smile.

“Come on guys.” Steve opens the trunk of the car and you just give Bucky a sympathetic smile.

Both men start loading the car and Nat and Wanda surprisingly give you a hug. “Guys, I’ll be back.” “Yeah but we won’t be seeing you and we’ll probably miss you.” Nat rebuts and you all just laugh. You hear the trunk close and then the two men talking to each other.

“That’s probably my cue to leave.” you let go of the two women and they give you a sad smile.

“‘Till the end of the line,” Bucky says and Steve just gives him a smile.

“Be careful with her.” Bucky eyes Steve and he just nods.

Everyone waves you goodbye and you enter the car, Steve drives off and suddenly, silence greets the both of you again. It was pretty awkward so he puts on a random radio station, it played some old French songs and it sort of eased the tension; it was still pretty awkward so he clears his throat and you bring your knees up to your chest. It was pretty late in the afternoon and the sun was setting, you looked out the window and you see the countryside, the sun disappears behind the copious amount of houses by the water.

“You ever been to France?” Steve cuts the silence and you look over at him.

“Non monsieur, et toi?” you ask him, and he just smiles whilst still paying attention to the road.

“I think I have, we were only out at sea though.” you turn your body to face him.

“That’s a story for another time, but tell me, how do you know French?” he asks and you laugh.

“I don’t know it per se but I know SOME phrases, I learned it in like the 10th grade.” You snicker and he just raises his eyebrows to acknowledge your sentence.

“Well, they didn’t teach us that good in art school,” he remarks and you give him an amused smile.

“They probably did, Bucky showed me some of your drawings, especially the one you did of me; I’d say you’re pretty good!” you chirp and his eyes widen.

“Buck did what?! I swear to God-”

“It’s fine! Your drawings are really nice, I appreciate you taking in this face.” you bring your hand to point at your face and he just laughs.

“Do you...do you like Bucky?” there was a bit of silence, you fiddle with the end of your shoelace and think about your answer.

“Yeah I do.” there was silence on Steve’s end and you could hear yourself gulp.

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s a pretty good friend.” you continue and you hear Steve’s sigh of relief, his composure was back to normal and the small conversation you had just eased up the tension a little.

You lost count of the time due to the constant playing of French love songs, it was nighttime when you finally reached the house you were staying at. The neighboring houses around the area were quiet, most especially the one besides yours; the lights were closed and you could only hear the sound of a cricket in the distance. Steve turns the engine off and opens the trunk of the car.

“Do you want some help with your bags?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah hold on, let me open the front door.” you turn the key and you’re greeted with an average-looking house, it was semi-furnished with some labeled boxes scattered around the house. You flip a switch and the living room lights open, Steve follows after, holding both of your bags while having his bag slung on his shoulder.

You both enter the house and you look around whilst flipping some light switches in the process. He climbs up to the second floor and you follow him shortly after; he enters the first room and to your horror, there’s a big master bed by the middle and some drawers and closets around the room.

“It’s a pretty cozy house.” he drops the bags by the bed and acts as if he didn’t see the same thing I saw. Steve explores the other rooms while I tail right behind him, the only other room on the second floor was a bathroom and an empty room with a stack of labeled boxes in it.

“Probably a guest bedroom.” I shrug and he closes the door to the empty room, he goes back to the main bedroom and starts unpacking his clothes.

“You fit that many clothes in a tiny bag?” you question and he just laughs.

“I didn’t know what else to bring.” you burst out laughing and he just gives you a shy smile, you both unload clothes in silence and he yawns. You fold the last bit of your clothes and place them in the drawer on the opposite side of the room, Steve sat on the bed and he rubs his eyes; you take your toiletries to the bathroom and stock up, you do your nightly routine and return to the bedroom.

You see Steve all sprawled out on the bed and you snicker.

“Tired, are we?” he sighs and gives you a smile.

“You think?” He waves you over and he sits up, patting the empty spot right next to him. He stands up and grabs a blanket from the closet and lays it down on the floor, you immediately stand up.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Making my bed.” he continues and places pillows on the carpeted floor.

“Wha- no-no, you’ll sleep on the bed!” you exclaim and he turns to look at you.

“Are you...okay with that?” you tilt your head.

“Well, yeah, I’ve slept on the floor multiple times.” you pat down the blanket he just laid out and you sit down on it, he shakes his head and extends his arm, you tilt your head once more and you take his hand; he pulls you up.

“No doll, I meant are you okay with us sharing a bed?” you walk over to sit down by the edge of the bed.

“Oh I don’t mind.” he looks down at his feet and he nods, he sits on the bed, making sure to put a hell of a distance between each other. You lay down against the pillows and snuggle in with the comforter, trying to get comfortable; Steve does the same and he gets into bed as well.

He turns to face you and you could feel his eyes staring into your soul, the lights were turned off but the moonlight captured his face enough.

“Goodnight doll.”

“G’night.” you slowly close your eyes, unaware of the blue eyes still lovingly staring at you.

[effieduan]

Ain’t Nothing But A Hound Dog || Kaden & Effie

TIMING: Shortly after Effie got Loker, her Basset Hound.

PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @effieduan

SUMMARY: Effie thinks the dog is going to eat her. Kaden thinks the dog is a monster. Truth is, he ain’t nothing but a hound dog

CONTENT: No Triggers!

“Nice doggy!” The hound bared his fangs at her, tail thumping against the ground with a hungry look on his face. It was like the tree situation, except she had managed to cram herself up onto her kitchen counter, staring warily down at the old basset hound. He was looking at her, every once in a while he would bark loudly at her. He wanted to eat her. She knew he wanted to eat her. The look in his eyes said all he wanted to eat for dinner that night was fox despite the multiple bags of kibble laying next to her island. Dog toys and multiple dog beds were strewn around the otherwise neat apartment -- Effie wasn’t planning on keeping the dog, really. She just didn’t want him to be uncomfortable during his stay. The dog barked as she gingerly tried swinging a leg over the counter, and she let out a shriek. Thank god she had the foresight to unplug everything in the apartment. “Nice! Doggy!”

Kaden came prepared, armed to the teeth. He had no idea what sort of canine creature would be waiting on the other side, but he was ready for anything. Hellhound, hedgehound, bonedoggle, aufhocker, barghest, cu-sith, dip, he had weapons for all of them. Could be anything. Probably not a raiju, squonk, or god forbid, a pricolici, but he was ready for any one of those all the same. Kaden knocked on the door. “Hello? Animal Control.” No response. Just a bark. And some yelling. He considered pounding on the door, but there was no time; there was no telling what was just beyond the threshold. She shrieked and he figured she’d forgive his intrusion later and Kaden threw himself into the door, shoulder first, ripping it off the hinges. His knife in hand, he sprinted to the source of the sound. “Hold on, I’m almost there! Stay calm!” shouted out as he ran towards the monster, ready to attack the second he saw whatever was waiting for him.

Animal Control. The dog was barking now, running in circles below her, absolutely bellowing his head off hearing someone at the door, and Effie shrieked again. What was that? Its call to arms?! Everything she ever knew about animals was rapidly leaving her head as pure terror replaced it, and she clung to her refrigerator, hardly even registering her door being kicked in. The dog lurched towards the intruder, and Effie yelled. “Wait! No!!” She wasn’t sure if it was to the dog or the man that came charging into her apartment, knife at the ready. The dog was jumping up onto the man’s knees, all stubby legs, floppy ears, tongue lolling out his mouth with loud deep barks coming from him. The familiar growl Effie had been hearing all morning -- or, well, since the dog had taken up residence in her home -- was coming from the back of his throat in between growls, his front paws tapping up onto the man’s legs as he jumped once, twice, three times…. But he wasn’t trying to rip the man’s kneecaps off. Or eat him. Or… well, do anything other than slobber on him. Effie froze, confusion flooding her face as she leaned forward to get a better look. “Wha -” She slipped, flailing down to the tile of her kitchen with a sharp smack. The dog barked, hopping down from the man, and immediately ran towards Effie -- Fear came back. That dog definitely has lunch on the mind! Her thoughts told her and she shrieked again, immediately driving back up for her safe spot on the counter, the dog nipping playfully at her heels.

Rounding the corner, Kaden scanned the area, looking for the monster in question. Which was it? What was he facing? Was the knife or the gun a better op--

Kaden stopped dead in his tracks, standing there, blinking in the kitchen as he saw a dog. Just a dog. “Putain de merde,” he started, letting loose a few more strings of curse words in French before letting out a deep sigh. The dog barked again at Effie before trotting over to him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” It was a hound dog. Nothing but a fucking hound dog. And it was howling. Kaden raised his hand out of the way as fast as he could, trying to keep the knife from getting near the animal. This was absolutely not what he expected to see. He was about to give him a pat when there was a crash to the floor. “Putain, are you alright?” With a sigh, Kaden sheathed the knife. “This what you called me about?” He walked over and crouched by the dog and held out his hand for him to sniff. “He looks pretty friendly to me. How’d he get here?” For a split second, he wondered if this was an illusion. If this was a kelpie or a hellhound that had been glamoured. His brow furrowed and he tried to listen to his hunter senses, see if anything pinged. A small chill ran down his spine. Merde.

“He was going to eat me!!” Effie insisted, pointing at the dog. The dog, however, just ran back to sit under the counter where she took refuge, sitting his butt down happily as his tail thumped against the floor, tongue lolling out his mouth. Effie pressed her lips together, staring down at the dog in exasperation. “At least… I thought… he was going to eat me,” Effie muttered, feeling heat rush to her face as she realized once again how silly she was being. Still, though, she didn’t get down off the counter. Instead, she pulled her legs up, crossing them. “I - Look. I’m not really a dog person -- I mean, I had one growing up --” Effie pointed at the single family photo she had. Five little girls, one separated from the rest wearing rubber gloves, and a big yellow golden retriever. “But Noodle was different and he’s…” Effie looked down at the dog again, and as if in response, he cocked his head at her. “... Not going to eat me,” she resigned. He barked as if he was agreeing with her.  “I’m sorry. He -- well, he chased me up a tree in the common, and some lady helped me down. And then I thought he just went away, but I got back to my car and I swear I only left the driver’s side door open for a second, so I could put my bag in the trunk and there he was in the passenger seat! And everytime I tried to get him down he just…. Did the growly thing at me. So I drove home and then he got out once we got home, and I parked and I figured that was the end of it… until I unlocked the door to my shop and he ran in. He’s not chipped, and no one responded to the LOST posters I posted in town and online, and I don’t want him to go to the pound or a shelter because he’s old. Old dogs don’t -- well, you know.” The dog barked again, and Effie jumped, looking away from Kaden and down at the dog. “What?! You are old!” More barking.

All Kaden could do was furrow his brow and blink, eyes darting between the dog and her. Then back again. Something wasn’t adding up. Scratch that, a lot of things weren’t adding up. And the more she talked, the less sense it made. “So. You’re scared of the dog. And brought it home anyway. And decided now was the time to call animal control?” Kaden wiped his face and sighed. It was so tempting to let his guard down. But the ping was there. That little sneaking sense of danger nearby. A monster. But this dog seemed completely normal. Then again, looks could be deceiving. Werewolves looked like humans most of the time, after all. “What made you think he was going to eat you? Did he ever look different? Or just like this?” The dog grumbled like it was tired of being told it was vicious when he just wanted some love. Kaden held his hand out again and the dog sniffed and snuffed before waddling over for pets, leaning into the hunter’s leg as he rubbed the critter’s side. There was no more ping, no more danger when touching the potential monster. Not like with Wrinkles way back when. This dog was… just a dog. Kaden went to stand up and the dog howled a little. “What?” Kaden asked, a smile breaking out on his face as he looked down. “What do you want?” The dog leapt up onto his knee, clearly not done with pets. Goofy grin plastered all over his face, Kaden reached down and scooped up the dog and started giving him more scritches and scratches, cooing a little at the old guy. “Look at you, you’re just a good boy. You are. Anyone would be lucky to have you, right? Yes.” Kaden nearly forgot that he wasn’t alone, that Effie was curled up, away from the dog. He coughed, cleared his throat, tried to find whatever professional dignity he might have left to find. “You want to pet him? He’s not going to eat you.” He finally noticed the gloves she was wearing. “Maybe without those. I mean, if you want. Up to you.”

“I told you I thought he was going to eat me,” Effie mumbled, still embarrassed by this whole situation. She looked up at him, about to ask why the dog would ever look different before she remembered that the poor animal control workers in this town probably saw more bullshit than anyone else. She deflated slightly. Maybe this would give him an actual break. “No, he always looked like that. I just -- I’m scared of hound dogs. I’m sorry.” She watched as the grumpy french man’s facade melted away and he scooped up all 65 pounds of basset hound off the ground, cooing and cuddling him. The surprise hit her first, and then the amusement. Under that lay something ugly. She was envious of his freedom to play with her dog. She could never do that, not without fear of frying his skin or worse. Effie sat on her counter watching with envious amusement until he seemed to realize that she was watching him. “Without the --” Effie looked down at her gloved hands, before looking at the dog apprehensively. “I’m having a bad hand day,” she said quietly. It wasn’t a lie, of course, she couldn’t tell them. It was just that every day was a bad hand day. Effie quietly pushed herself off the counter, this time landing on her feet as she cautiously approached. Slowly, very slowly, she reached out and patted the dog on the head.

Kaden shook his head and supposed he had to accept that this was just an over reaction. Unless… This was White Crest, after all. Maybe she had seen something real. Or maybe a phobid had enhanced her fear. Who knew. He could hear her heartbeat slowing ever slightly. It was still pounding pretty hard, she was clearly very nervous. Not that her words told him any different. “It’s alright. He’s not going to try and eat you. Pro--” Kaden shut his mouth so fast he nearly bit his tongue. How that word still crept into his vocabulary even now, he didn’t know. “Just trust me, he just wants some love. And I’ve got him so if anything happens, you’ll be okay. Alright?” Kaden wasn’t a very patient man at times, but something about working with animals made it all so much easier to just wait, breathe a moment, and take things a little slower. And it was clear she was trying. If she was going to keep this dog, she was going to have to get used to basic things. Like petting him. So patience it was. “Alright then, suit yourself,” he said and gave her a nod to come closer. Her hand reached out and touched the pup and immediately he tried to wriggle out of Kaden’s grasp, likely to lick Effie’s face. The hunter held tight and kept the dog from getting loose. “Easy there,” he said, keeping the canine steady. “Both of you need to take it slow, got it?” He gave the dog a stern look and in response, the hound looked up and licked Kaden’s nose instead. “Wonderful.” And his hands were full. Oh well. Guess dog slobber it was.

Embarrassment clung to her as Effie watched Kaden coax her to pet the dog. It was so… ridiculous. Was this what her life was? Being terrified of every living thing that came into her house? She pat the dog anyway, though, and he seemed not to mind how strange her hands felt with her gloves on. “Oh!” Effie pulled her hand back in surprise just as the dog licked Kaden’s nose. She froze, feeling the laugh building in her before she could stop it, and a second later she was covering her mouth to conceal the snickering. “Sorry, sorry.” The dog wiggled in his arms and looked down at him, a small smile spreading across her face. “I’m sorry I thought you were going to eat me,” she said to the dog, gently reaching out to pat the dog on the head again if only so he would stop licking Kaden’s face. He went to licking her gloves and rubbing his floppy eared head against her hand instead. She glanced up at Kaden too, her smile turning sheepish. “And for, um, making you kick my door in.”

[cycwrites]

Switching Gears Part 10 - Family

Here it finally is, the last chapter. I don't know if I would've finished this without the support of a lot of people, @tiny-maus-boots and @kimmania being at the top of that list.

Thank you to everyone who has taken this journey with me. I love you all and hope you enjoyed the ride! (Ha, dirty.)

Staubrey with side Bechloe.

Words: 5,500ish

Rating: No smut in this one - does that make it Teen+?

AO3   FFN    Tumblr Master Post

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Family

~S~

“Did I hear Chloe correctly this morning? You’re all going to be moving in together?” Emily threw popcorn towards Stacie’s mouth and gave a fist bump when it made it in. “Because I actually think that would be awesome.”

“No, you did not.” Stacie said once she finished chewing. “You overheard the end of a conversation about another conversation Aubrey and I had last night while naked and distracted.”

She was feeling very content, very playful and extremely relaxed after spending a few more hours naked with Aubrey after her last class. Not to say she didn’t want to drag Aubrey off into her bedroom for round whatever count they were up to, but she could wait until the rest were gone tomorrow.

Maybe.

“Oh my god. Gross!” Emily slammed her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, hunching down into the armchair. “Why did you have to say that?”

“You asked,” Chloe said as she came walked into Stacie’s living room with the stack of pizza boxes that had just been delivered and set them in the middle of the coffee table. “Of course she’s going to answer. Oops, we need plates and napkins.” She turned to the kitchen.

“Because I didn’t know the context! I wouldn’t have asked if I had!” Emily complained to Chloe’s retreating back, setting the popcorn bowl on the table as well. “I could’ve lived without the context.” She picked up another piece of popcorn and threw it at Stacie. “You are a terrible cousin.”

Beca was walking back from the bathroom as it arced overhead and she snagged it out of the air and popped it into her mouth. Just as neatly, Stacie’s arms reached out and yanked Beca down to sprawl across her lap.

“Hey!” Beca flailed for a second before realizing she wasn’t falling anymore. “I am not Aubrey, why are you cuddling me?”

“You were there and stole my popcorn.” Stacie shrugged, not knowing what spurred her impulse but happy with the outcome. Beca’s head drew back and she stared at her, wide eyed and Stacie’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Even if it weren’t already chewed and swallowed, I would not be giving you back the popcorn from my mouth!” She blinked at her and then at Aubrey when she pulled Beca’s legs into her lap where she was seated on Stacie’s right. “Seriously?” But she didn’t get up and that acceptance made Stacie happy.

“You three look adorable, by the way. The real question is,” Chloe asked as she rejoined them with a stack of paper plates and a roll of paper towels. “Would you have tried to hand it back to her or let her come after it herself - without using her hands?” She set them down on the table before sitting cross-legged on the floor next to it in front of the empty spot on the couch where Beca had originally been sitting. “And can Aubrey and I watch.”

“Why did I agree to this?” Emily groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “I knew not a single one of you would behave. Each of you individually are worse than the sum of all the sex crazed teens in my high school and now that your powers are combined you’re unstoppable.”

“I wouldn’t say we’ve combined yet,” Chloe said and then, in the same breath, “Here’s some pizza, Em.”

Sighing Emily dropped her hands and took the offered plate. “I am still totally leaving after the movie, by the way. I am not staying the night in the hormone hotel.”

“But you’ll miss out on Aubrey’s French toast in the morning!” Beca rubbed her belly. “No one should ever turn that down.”

“It’ll be okay, Em. You and I can share Stacie’s bed, Stacie can have the couch and Beca and Aubrey can have the spare room,” Chloe said, handing a loaded plate to Aubrey.

“Why do I get the couch?” Stacie pouted, squeezing Beca like she was a stuffed animal.

“Because it’s your house, Bucky, and we’re the guests.” Beca patted her arms then reached for the plate that Chloe was holding out. Chloe caught Stacie’s eye and winked in amused affection as she looked up at the two of them. “It’s only polite.”

Bemused, Stacie pushed her lip out in a pout. “But why can’t I share my own bed with Emily and Chloe? We’ve done that plenty of times.”

“So Aubrey can sneak out and share the couch with you, obviously.” Beca paused with a slice of pizza halfway to her mouth as she realized they were watching her. “Why are all of you staring at me?”

“Because we’re wondering how long it’s going to take you to realize you’re still in Stacie’s lap,” Aubrey told her sweetly.

“I’m what?” Beca looked down as the rest of them burst into laughter. “Holy shit. Why… how… the fuck?”

“Because she’s comfy to snuggle with,” Emily told her, beaming. “She used to hold me when I was sick and sing to me. It’s the only time I felt better until it had passed.” She sighed mournfully. “I really missed that when she moved.”

“Okay that… is adorably cute,” Beca pointed at her. “And you’re not wrong about the comfy. But I am not eating pizza in your lap. Can I have my legs back, Aubrey?”

“I suppose,” Aubrey sighed dramatically and lifted her arms as Beca set her plate on the table.

Stacie helped Beca out of her lap and to her feet, swatting her rear since it was right there and she was never one to pass up opportunity. Beca spun around to glare at her, giving Aubrey the chance to reach out and pinch her while Chloe ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. Beca yelped and jumped backward, thankfully missing the coffee table though only by mere inches.

“I hate all of you.” She went the long way around the table. “Except Emily. She hasn’t assaulted my person.” She took her seat next to Aubrey and shoulder bumped her. “Can you hand me my plate babe?”

As Aubrey leaned over to get it she shared a smile with Stacie. “She loves me.”

“I know I do,” Stacie said softly, tucking a strand of Aubrey’s hair behind her ear as she handed Beca’s plate to her.

“Yeah?” Aubrey turned back to her with a shy smile. The rest of the conversation swirled around them but Stacie ignored it for the moment as Aubrey leaned back toward her. “Then you won’t mind if I sneak out to the couch to make out in the middle of the night?”

Stacie tilted her head and leaned forward the extra inch to slide their lips together. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She hummed as several throats cleared around them. “I think we’ve got an audience again.”

Aubrey shrugged. “I’m getting used to it.” She sat back up and they both ignored the grins they were getting.

Chloe had settled against Beca’s legs and gave Stacie a quick wink. “Okay, but Emily does have a point.”

“That you’re all too horny for my mental state?” Emily stuck her tongue out when Stacie flipped her off.

“That we should all live together.” Chloe took a drink of her soda when Beca snorted. “Ever since you said it this morning it’s been in my mind.”

“I actually… kind of agree,” Aubrey said thoughtfully.

“You do?” Stacie turned and brought her leg up underneath her to face Aubrey fully. “You sound actually serious.” Not that she was against it and in fact had loved the idea since the night before. It just felt right and made so much damn sense to her. But she had thought the others had considered everything they’d said this morning as just four friends goofing around and teasing each other.

“I am,” Aubrey shrugged and wiped her lips with a paper towel. “I mean, think about it. It may be too soon to be this sure about things, but I get the feeling you and I are going to be spending more time together than apart, at one of our houses. Life would be simpler if we moved together.”

“Okay, okay. This is faster than even the worst lesbian U-Haul joke,” Beca pointed out. “You can’t be serious.”

Chloe turned and put her arm on Beca’s legs. “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me as often as possible?” She gave Beca a patented Chloe Beale Pout that never failed to make Stacie cave and it looked like Beca was going to be no exception.

Beca made a face. “If anyone else had said that to me I’d already be out the door calling an Uber. That is a danger sign of clingy and I don’t do clingy.” She reached down and stroked her fingertips through Chloe’s hair before curling a lock around her finger. “But since you said it… It’s barely been a day but… you’re not wrong and I don’t think I can argue too much.”

“Not right away, of course.” Aubrey said after another bite. “But like, maybe in six months we see where things stand and think about it then.”

“You think you’ll get tired of me in six months?” Stacie pouted again, not even remotely serious and making sure it showed. She had no doubts that they were on the same page there. Something this big required a lot of real conversations, serious ones, despite the fact that her heart said they weren’t necessary.

“Never know,” Aubrey said airily. “I could find someone better in bed.” Beca almost choked on her mouthful of pizza and Aubrey turned to pat her on the back. “Sorry Beca.”

Beca coughed for another few seconds then gratefully took the can of soda Chloe handed her. “Never try to ugly laugh while you’re eating pizza. The cheese tried to go down the air hole and that’s a bitch to get back out.”

“Did you just say ‘air hole’?” Chloe let out a giggle and shook her head. “That’s your go to? ‘Air hole’?”

“It’s so much easier to remember in the moment than ‘windpipe’,” Beca shrugged and took another bite, chewing carefully. “When I was little I called it a blowhole because my parents took me on a whale watching boat once and their spray was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.”

“You… are priceless and I am definitely in love with you.” Chloe tilted her head up and without hesitation despite the instant blush to her cheeks, Beca leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “So you’re not allowed to choke on food in your air hole anymore.”

“Aw,” Emily cooed. “This was almost worth the mental scarring I know I’m about to get tonight.” She batted away the paper towel Chloe threw at her without looking.

Aubrey leaned against Stacie’s side. “So, for the record, since we’re in front of our best friends and family.” Stacie looked at her, brows knitting in confusion. “I will forever be grateful that you were the one who innocently parked your bike in my slot.”

Beca let out a high pitched snicker that she quickly muffled with her napkin. “Sorry.” She set down her pizza and waved with her other hand. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not, B. You said it that way just to trigger her gutter mind, didn’t you?” Stacie laughed when Aubrey only grinned at her. “But you still want to wait six months before living with me?”

“It’s the sane thing to do,” Aubrey sighed. “While I’ve talked to Emily and Chloe for a couple years, that’s still different than really starting to get to know them this past day. And you…” Aubrey put her left hand on Stacie’s thigh and squeezed. “I know we said it earlier but really, we’ve only spent maybe a combined 24 hours in each other’s presence.” She gave Stacie a soft smile that caused her heart to pang and beat faster. “But… no. I don’t want to wait. It’s stupid and impulsive but I would move in with you tomorrow if it were possible.”

“I mean, it is.” Beca shrugged when they all looked at her. “You just have to figure out which house you want and sell the other. The bitch is that you’d still have to pay for it until it sold.” She sat back, her plate on her lap. “Which is ultimately the same thing you’ll be doing even if you kept separate houses anyway – you’d just lose the safety net of having a backup house once it sells.” She pursed her lips. “Suppose you could always do short term rentals to folks if you’re really worried about compatibility and don’t want to lose the house. But if we’re really going to do this – and honestly it sounds like fun until it goes horribly wrong – might as well just wait and we all move at once. I think I’ve only got three months left on my current agreement anyway.”

“A good point, Starfish.” Beca made a face as Stacie looked down at Chloe, struck by a thought. “You also like to somehow take up more than your share of the bed –”

“Which is ‘fun’ when the three of us have a sleepover,” Emily added with a roll of her eyes. “Somehow I wake up with Stacie’s arm over my face or her knee in my back.”

“Sorry, Em.” Stacie said contritely though she smiled at the memories. “But I was more just curious how that’d work when you’re both fighting for maximum sprawl space.”

“Just means we’ll have to get a bigger bed,” Chloe said easily. “I may have gotten bored at work and done a casual search after talking earlier.” Beca perked up and opened her mouth but was interrupted.

“Nope.” Emily said immediately. “I don’t need the exact context to know I don’t want to know.”

“Probably best,” Chloe patted her leg comfortingly. “But… back to Aubrey’s point about waiting.”

“I hate that I made it,” Aubrey sighed. “It’s that stupid lawyer part of my brain that thinks things through to the point where it’s all mapped out and there’s no spontaneity. Getting away from that is why I moved.”

“That was an impulse that worked out.” Beca turned to her. “And not just because you met me and I’m fucking awesome. You’ve made a new life here and I know how much you hated your old one as a drone.”

“I love how confident you are,” Stacie said through a laugh.

“You’re saying I’m not fucking awesome?” Beca’s eyebrows went up.

Stacie decided to answer that as stated and not as her brain wanted her to because Emily would laugh first but probably just get up and walk out the door. “I didn’t say that. I knew from the second we met that we were going to be great friends one day.”

“You mean ‘day one’,” Beca nodded with satisfaction. “I feel the same about you, Bucky.”

“One of us needs to have the ability to hit the brakes,” Chloe offered. “And it’s going to take us a while to find a place that would suit all of us.” Aubrey started nodding slowly. “Assuming we all agreed to actually do it.” She shifted so she could look at them and Emily equally without having to crane her neck around. “And I’m in, by the way – I’m so in. I think it would be fun to have you all as roommates.”

“What about you, Em?” Stacie asked, reaching for another slice of pizza and setting it on her plate while she leaned back.

“Me?” Emily shook her head rapidly. “No, no way.”

“What?” Stacie frowned. “Seriously?” That definitely wasn’t the answer she had expected.

“Seriously.”

“She does sound Dixie Chick Serious,” Beca said casually, not even flinching when Aubrey thumped her in the leg. Stacie smiled as she remembered singing what she’d already begun thinking of as their song to Aubrey before falling asleep.

“Unless my bedroom had the best soundproofing in the world, there’s no way I would live with the four of you.” Emily shook her head. “While I will be over almost every single night, I will definitely be going home to sleep.”

“What about a house with one of those detached in-law apartments or guest house?” Aubrey said reasonably and the room fell silent as they all considered.

Stacie had been about to teasingly whine about wanting her favorite cousin close but all she could do was look at Aubrey in awe. “Oh my god you’re brilliant.” She got a shy grin in response and a pat on her thigh.

Emily chewed thoughtfully on the last of her crust. “Actually… that’s… not a bad idea.”

“Woo!” Stacie held up her hand toward her cousin, just out of reach. “Air high five!”

“You two are such dorks and I love you,” Chloe laughed as the two of them slapped the air in front of them. She lifted the lid of the pizza box so Emily could take another piece.

“Between the five of us we should be able to afford something like that, right?” Beca frowned. “Not that the shop makes a ton of money but I can afford more than the apartment I’ve been renting.”

“We’ll revisit tomorrow, once we’ve all had some real sleep?” Chloe looked around as they nodded. “And probably several more conversations over the next few months.”

“Because as much as I am into this idea,” Beca agreed. “There are a lot of things to be worked out before we start looking.”

“Figuring out a price range, how many rooms… I know Beca’s going to need space for storing gear and… oh god we’re going to have so many cars.” Aubrey shook her head. “I used to laugh at those listings where they had three bedrooms and three garages but now we’re going to need to be those pretentious assholes. Can we afford that?”

“That’s not something we have to figure out tonight. We save it for another day,” Stacie offered. “Who knows, maybe this won’t even work and this magical house doesn’t exist.”

“It does.” Chloe interrupted. “We’ll find it.”

Emily was nodding before she’d finished. “Now that I can picture it safely from a guest house, yeah. She’s right.” She bounced in her chair. “This is gonna be awesome!”

“This definitely calls for a toast,” Stacie said, wiping off pizza grease from her fingers. “Mixer for the coke or should I break out the wine?”

“Vodka please,” Emily said through a mouthful of pizza, belatedly covering her mouth while she chewed. “Sorry.”

“Gross.” Stacie shook her head. “I know Aunt K taught you better than that. You three good with that or want something else?” She stood to a chorus of ‘yes please’ and headed to the kitchen, aware that Aubrey had followed her in.

“Glasses are in that cupboard,” Stacie pointed as she opened the freezer and took out the bottle she kept there and a small bag of ice. Aubrey moved past her with a kiss to her shoulder blade and began taking five glasses out and setting them on the counter. “So, living together already?”

“Once the kneejerk fear was out of the way,” Aubrey turned and leaned against the counter. “Doesn’t it feel like we’re supposed to?”

“Yes.” Stacie closed the freezer and turned to set the bottle beside the glasses and the bag in the sink. She took a step forward and pressed against Aubrey. “Almost anyone else and I’d assume that I was in that ‘new love’ feeling that leads to all the U-Haul jokes and never seriously consider it but…” She leaned forward and found Aubrey’s mouth already parting for her. It was slow but deep; a dangerous combination despite their time together earlier in the evening. She felt Aubrey’s hands shift to her waist, always pulling her ever closer and Stacie’s pulse sped up.

“Don’t make me send Beca in there after you,” Chloe yelled at them. “Who knows what’ll happen this time.”

“Hey!” Beca objected. “I’m not drunk yet; I might be able to pry them apart without being affected by their lust aura.”

Chloe’s laugh filled the living room. “That’s totes the best way to put it but also I don’t know if you can.”

“Nothing,” Emily yelled back over Beca’s indignant squawk. “Nothing will happen because I can see into the kitchen from here and I know where the knives are.”

Laughing, Stacie pulled back and rested their foreheads together. “So, we’re really in this?” Stacie thought she could spend a lifetime looking into the eyes so close to hers and never be able to name all the shades of color she could see in them.

“With each other?” Aubrey smiled. “Or with them?”

“Yes.” Stacie said simply. She wanted it all. She wanted Aubrey. She wanted her best friend, her new friend and her cousin all living with her. That feeling of need and belonging wasn’t something she had ever wanted before and she felt she should be terrified at wanting and needing anyone this much but all she felt was equal measures of calm and excitement at the prospect.

“We’re all going to kill each other, being underfoot like that,” Aubrey pointed out. “You are aware of that? You’ve seen me; I can be a little… irrational… sometimes, when I get an idea stuck in my head.”

“You’re not alone in that. Chloe’s been known to have a good freak out or three, and -” she raised her voice. “Sorry Beca, but I’m sure I’m going to find something annoying about you eventually.”

“The first time you wake me up on a day I get to sleep in,” Beca promised. “Wrath. You will know it.”

“Looking forward to it,” Stacie assured her and forced herself to take a step back from Aubrey. “I’m certainly going to have my own moments where you’d like to strangle me… But I really think between those times we’re all going to be laughing our asses off because we are all fucking amazing.” She took a deep breath, trying to find words to explain the certainty she felt. “And I don’t know how but we all seem to fit together perfectly and I think we’ll balance each other out.” Stacie shrugged. “And Emily will be there to referee if needed and keep us in check.”

“If we can find a place and if we all still agree.” Aubrey ran her hand down Stacie’s arm. “There’s a lot that has to happen and we might not.”

“We will.” Stacie didn’t know how she knew but she could feel it in her bones that it would happen and probably a lot sooner than any of them thought possible.

“Then yeah, I’m in.” Aubrey nodded once. “I am so fucking in with all of you lunatics.”

Stacie kissed her again, quickly because if she let herself linger she wouldn’t be able to stop, and forced herself to turn away to dig the ancient drink mixer she’d gotten from her grandfather out of the silverware drawer.

“Aubrey,” Chloe sighed from the living room. “You of all people should know you can’t say fucking in front of Beca.”

“Is she giggling like a nine year old boy?” Aubrey grinned and helped Stacie add ice to their glasses.

“She’s turning red trying to hold it in, but yes,” Emily answered when Chloe started laughing.

“I can’t help it!” Beca defended herself. “Aubrey rarely curses and I love it each and every time.” There was a pause. “Plus it drops me into the gutter.”

“You never leave the gutter, let’s be honest.” Aubrey carefully picked up four of the glasses and headed back to the living room. Stacie put the ice back in the freezer and snagged a 2 liter of Coke from the fridge. Picking up the mixer, remaining glass and bottles, Stacie followed her out. “You’ve lived in the gutter as long as I’ve known you.”

“Guilty,” Beca said as they came back in. “It’s all part of my charm.”

Aubrey set the glasses down before sitting back down next to Beca. “You keep telling yourself that.” She poured the remainder of her can of Coke into one of the glasses, the rest following suit.

Stacie pulled the cover off the pour spout and began adding a generous amount of vodka to everyone’s glass. As she put the cover back on, Emily was already topping them all off with the 2 liter and Beca had picked up the mixer.

“Holy shit, I haven’t seen one of these in years!” She pressed the button on the side and the diamond shaped end began to spin. “My grandpa had one of these and I always loved it!” She stopped it for a second and put it in her drink and turned it back on, her smile turning wistful.

“Gramps had a whole bar set up downstairs,” Stacie smiled back at her. “He had a pool table set up in the middle of the room, a fireplace along one side, a piano in one corner and along the same wall he had a full bar.”

“One of us would play bartender and we’d pretend to order drinks.” Emily added, smiling when Beca handed her the mixer. “Used playing cards as cash.”

“Did you ever actually sneak the booze?” Aubrey asked, leaning back against Stacie.

“Nope,” Stacie laughed. “We never even considered it. It was all 7-Up or Pepsi and make-believe. God those were good times.” She smiled at her cousin and the memory. “Several of our families would gather for the big holidays in their narrow ass two story duplex. We never fit but somehow we made it work.”

“Most of us kids would spend the time downstairs, pretending we could shoot pool.” Emily handed the mixer to Chloe who took care of Stacie’s and Aubrey’s drinks before her own. “We’d even eat our dinner at the bar. I still don’t know how we didn’t drop our plates going down those death trap stairs.”

“Youthful luck.” Stacie reached out and handed Aubrey her glass and then took her own. Lifting it, she looked around at her newly forged family. Sentimental, sure, but that didn’t make it less true for all the speed in which it had happened. “A toast?”

“How about to new friends?” Emily lifted her glass.

“New family,” Chloe corrected, always able to read Stacie’s mind in a way she should have found worrisome.

“You guys better not make me cry before I’ve had enough to drink to blame it on,” Beca said. “I gave up on family long ago. Then Aubrey found me and now you guys…” She shook her head, blinking a few times. “To family.”

They all clinked their glasses together and took a drink.

“And,” Aubrey said, raising her glass a second time. “To the joys of house hunting.”

After they’d clinked and sipped, Stacie angled a little so she could see Beca. “Hey, Beca. I hear you know karate.”

“What?” Beca made a face. “That’s a physical activity and I make it a point to avoid physical activity.” She held up a finger when Aubrey drew breath. “Riding bikes and sex do not reside in the same level of physical activity that kicking people in the face does.”

“It does it you do it right,” Chloe said as she grabbed another slice of pizza.

Stacie eyed her cousin but Emily only shrugged. “I can’t argue even if I don’t want to hear my sister from another mother talk about it.”

“What is this conversation? Why do you even think that?” Beca took another drink and eyed her warily.

“Aubrey told me that you were up and ready to defend her honor at the slightest sound while she was injured.” Stacie grinned when Beca groaned at her.

“You told her?” She nudged Aubrey’s knee with her own. “Snitch.”

“Well,” Aubrey drawled. “I was actually telling her about forgetting I couldn’t put weight on it and that I dropped to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. Telling her about waking you was just a bonus.”

Chloe and Emily were looking between them but Chloe waved her hand. “Care to fill us in?”

“I yelled when I fell, breaking a lamp in the process and woke Beca up,” Aubrey explained. “She was on her feet before her eyes were open and her hands were in prime chopping position.” Aubrey lifted hers and demonstrated. “I’d have expected fists to punch like a scrappy boxer but I’d have been wrong.”

“Maybe your new nickname should be Karate Kid,” Stacie declared. “But I will likely shorten that to just Kid.”

“Aren’t I older than you?” Beca asked, exasperated. “I accepted Starfish but I think I even prefer Boobs McGee over Karate Kid.”

“You don’t get to choose nicknames, Beca,” Aubrey admonished sweetly. “They’re given by those who love you and know you well.” She leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It means a lot that you are willing to defend me in my time of need.”

“Yeah yeah,” Beca muttered though her lips twitched into a grin. “You’re my person.”

“See? You love me.” Aubrey leaned over and pulled her into a hug. “You’re my person too.”

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Emily hopped out of her chair. “Movie time!”

“Nothing sappy,” Beca pleaded as Aubrey let her go. “Can we have action and explosions? And definitely not Karate Kid?”

“Sure,” Emily said easily, looking through Stacie’s collection. “Popcorn movies are fun and it gives me an excuse to make more before I have more pizza.”

Aubrey slid over and Stacie put an arm around her. “We’ll find a romantic drama you’ll like one day, Becs.”

Beca snorted. “You should know better by now than to say such things.”

Chloe looked up at them. “Is there room for me on the couch?”

“There’s maybe some room between Beca and I,” Aubrey said. “But it’s up to you if you wanna squish in or stretch out across us.”

“I’ll squish,” Chloe said as she stood. “Though that really almost leads to a horror movie cuddle, since I have someone to grab on either side.”

“Ooh!” Emily swiftly pulled a case from shelf and stepped to the TV. “An even better idea.” She stopped and turned to them. “Unless you guys don’t do horror?”

“Aubrey laughs her ass off,” Beca said as she scooted to the arm of the couch so Chloe could sit down. “So we’re good.”

Emily sighed. “I usually jump but we’ve seen this one enough that I have most of the jump scares down. Have you seen Cabin in the Woods?”

“That’s actually one of my favorites,” Aubrey laughed. “If you get freaked out you can have my spot and cuddle your cousin.” She paused and shrugged. “Or lay across our laps, I suppose.”

“Deal.” Emily put the disc in the player and turned off the lamp in the corner, leaving the room lit by the TV and the kitchen behind them.

“Did you know,” Chloe said idly as she reached for her drink again and took a sip. “That they have beds you can buy that are twelve feet across?”

“Chloe, you and Beca are the shortest people I know. What on earth would you need with an expanse like that?” Stacie laughed then broke off when Chloe shot her a sly grin and wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh my god, woman!”

“Dirty bird,” Aubrey said in admiration. “You’ll have to tell me more.”

“I’m out,” Emily declared and popped up out of the armchair she’d just settled in. “You’ve now put the forbidden image in my head and it’s all I’m going to see when I look at the four of you.”

“Wait wait,” Chloe laughed and reached over Beca to grab her wrist as she went by the couch. Stacie had seen the grin Emily tried to hide and knew she wasn’t going to leave. “I’m sorry, I’ll behave. I’ve just been sitting on that since this afternoon and couldn’t hold it in anymore. Come cuddle with us.”

Stacie picked up the remote and started the movie as Emily allowed herself to be pulled back around the couch. Beca had already pulled one of the throw pillows from behind her back and set it on her lap. As Emily carefully stretched out across their laps, Stacie felt like the Grinch as her heart swelled with affection and gratitude for the women in her life.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t loved and felt love in return before now. It was that she hadn’t expected a family beyond Emily and Chloe. She’d never found it important before pure chance had brought it into her life and now she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

She was in.

She was so fucking in.

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

A/N: One day I may revisit this series because we all know the four of them end up together. I have some very vague ideas about a secondary plot line about training to beat DSM in a race - I know nothing about racing so I don't know if I could pull that off convincingly even if it takes place behind the scenes. Obviously main plot would be them finally figuring things out but... I don’t know if ya’ll would be interested in more of this world?

[shhhhhskars]

See You Again (part 2)

Click here to indulge in part 1. This is kind of our babies getting emotionally vulnerable with each other, and being weirdos together. All the feels. Very fluffy and soft soft Alex things. I hope you enjoy this. (P.S. sorry if there are typos or what not, my brain has been tired lately.)

There was something bittersweet about finding it when she did. A mixture of embarrassment, unease and relief. It over took her body in a rush as she gazed at his messy scribble in the lonely kitchen, and she had to physically close her eyes to ground herself for a few seconds. All was silent, except for the soft humming of the refrigerator, and she basked in it for a second. With the tension leaving her body, she realized just how disappointed she truly was a second ago. And what was this undeniable shift she felt in the pit of her stomach, the muddled clenching that was there just prior- practically nonexistent now? All of that pent up anxiety and frustration. Gone. Poof. Easy like that. Simply because he had signaled that he was still around.

How was it possible that he could shift her mood so effortlessly? The thought made her seethe a little, his pull was far too strong on her emotions, and it terrified her.

Making a mental note to check in with herself later, she took her her sweet time to climb the staircase up to the rooftop terrace- an effort to convince herself that she was not a complete soft trash can for the man who waited for her. She did her best to maintain an expression of nonchalance- an effort to appear cool, calm and collected. Instead, she found herself chewing at the inside of her bottom lip the entire time, to hold back the smile that was fighting it’s way across her lips. 

When she finally reached the top level, firmly pulling open the french doors, she stopped curtly, legs suddenly feeling like lead.

The roof terrace which was designed to be a cozy space- was decked out intricately from left to right. Draped from edge to edge- twinkling round string-lights hung, the glow that emitted from the circular bulbs standing out against the black, industrial wire and the bare night sky. They wrapped around the exposed wooden beams that provided a shaded area in the day-time, and looped back to where she was standing. Starting at her feet, there were milky wax candles of all sizes, placed in careful bundles all around the terrace floor, burning comfortably in temperate night. A few over-sized metal lanterns lay among them, with taller candles inside, the light bouncing back and radiating against the glass. Dozens of healthy sunflowers (her favorite) beamed straight up in ceramic white pitchers, which were spread through out the various surfaces- one on top of the lounge table, another on top of the bar area. 

He staggered his usual potted plants to the outskirts of the terrace, their terra-cotta buckets adding to the rosiness and haziness of the scene- which made just enough room for a fluffy, layered spread of blankets, on top of a heavy, white quilted duvet. A handful of throw pillows were scattered a top, all some shade of creme or white, some with cotton covers, others knitted, some just soft and fuzzy. Two generously sized wine glasses were perched on a wooden stool next to the area, already filled with a deep ruby hue, and she could tell it was her favorite blend that they kept in their mini collection downstairs. A gentle, soft jazz instrumental filtered through the air, nearly undetectable due to the fact that they were nestled in the heart of the city, the buzz from around them undeniable. 

She was in awe of the energy of the space- of his lofty and particular intimate curation. Stunned, she held her breath. 

As if on cue, the giant Swede who was responsible for it all, appeared from around the corner, whistling softly to himself, carrying an extensive charcuterie board with two large hands. He nearly jumped when he saw her standing in the door way, and clutched at the wooden board firmly. 

“Holy shi.. I said around 10...ish, 'baby. Hi, though.” he muttered with a furrowed brow, but a silly smile was spreading across his face just from seeing her frame in the doorway. He walked over to the wooden table that was near their fort of blankets, and placed down his work of art, shifting it into place on the table. 

Still in complete shock, she ignored him and his time request, watching him nonchalantly shift some of the cheeses on the board. 

“Alex...did you do all of this...for me?” she questioned, clearing her throat to catch his attention when he ignored her. “Alex..” she pressed again, softly, and he pried his attention away from the cheese brought his eyes to hers finally. Looking around, he gave her a tiny, innocent shrug and a nod, as if to say, yeah, I did. He pushed himself up, dusting his butt off a little as he did so, and walked over to where she stood expectantly in the door way.

He wrapped a hand around the small of her waist, pulling her into him, and she sighed a breath of relief, from the much needed contact. 

“We haven’t seen much of each other as of late. I figured, we could use some alone time.” he said modestly. “I mean, I know it’s nothing much, or whatever but...something small, you know, just for us.”

She scoffed, wrapping one arm around his waist, pulling his body closer to hers with a gentle jerk. Suddenly her Tiramisu and lingerie felt minuscule, compared to what he did for her. 

“Small? Baby...” she planted a solid kiss on his chin. “This is everything.” she whispered. Music still softly threading along in the background, he blushed a violent shade of light pink, and brought his lips gently onto hers, leaving a lingering, soft kiss that made her want to whine when he broke it. He dropped her waist and went for her hand, interlocking their fingers and pulling her out of the doorway, and down onto the terrace. “C’mere.” He tugged at her arm, prompting her to follow him to the little area he had set up for them.

**

A few glasses of wine in, and she’s sitting pretzel style on top of one of the pillows, giggling at a Skarsgard camping story. This time, he remincised on  camping with G, and Gustaf’s then girlfriend. Bill also tagged along, as well as a young Valter, and the trip was a memorable mess, because Valter, Bill and Alexander were forced to share a tent. Other than Gustaf and his girlfriend making their...sounds, Valter could swear up and down he heard a bear in the middle of the night- which led to him waking them up in the ass crack of night,  to sob a bit and beg them to check it out. Bill volunteered, and instead of coming back into the tent he took an intentionally long smoke break, which caused Valter to freak out even more.

 His shirt rode up as he spoke, animated and enthused as ever, exposing his sculpted, tan torso and gray boxer briefs. This was one of his top five favorite positions to be in, ‘cause he could gaze right up at her with ease, head snuggled in her lap and his long body stretched out to the maximum. If she threw in a little head scratch, ah, that was true bliss. 

“Ah...that little motherfucker, man. I miss him when he was small. Now he’s all...smart and what not.” Alexander commenced his reminiscing with a chuckle, followed with a small sigh. 

She smiled down at him, one hand brushing through his locks, the other, reaching for her wine glass and dragging the rim up to her lips. “Yeah, well, that generally happens, sweets. You have fifty million siblings, you should know this.” she said with a little tug on his hair. He winced, belting out a mumbled ouch, and pinched the side of her thigh.

“Fifty million, yeah? I’m defffintely telling my dad you said that.” he said with a goofy little giggle, raising a hand up to gently trace her cheekbone.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare, Skarsgard. You know that’s my bestie.” she said with a roll of her eyes, cutting her eyes at him playfully.

“Ooh, and I’m telling mom you said that,” he countered, changing from his index to his rough thumb, bringing his hand down to stroke her jaw-line with his large finger. A full on grin was spread across his face now, fully amused at teasing her, and her mouth dropped dramatically. 

“You’re playing dirty. I thought you missed me, sir.” She gave her best pout and sad eyes, but it only made them both laugh.

“I missed the hell out of you, and those awfully dramatic facial expressions you do. You should be an actress.” he touched the tip of her nose with his index finger, and she shook her head with a small laugh.

“Oh? There’s a joke.” she said with a little snicker, imagining the scenario briefly. She ran her hand down his tummy, tracing small circles on exposed skin. He shuddered under her touch, and he closed his eyes, snuggling his head more into her lap. It was getting later and later, and Alexander became more and more of a baby when it was close to his bed-time.

“Mmmmm.” he mumbled as adjusted, relaxing under her touch. She took a good look at him, laying their with his eyes closed. She could see every line, every tiny little wrinkle that creased up at the side of his eyes- she adored each one. Under his eyes were slightly puffy, like he was restless and needed a good rest tonight. She looked at his faded stubble that was growing back at a rapid rate from his last visit to the barber. 

“What? Does that feel good?” she asked, nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip gently as she peered down at him.

He nodded slowly, and she stopped the circles on his tum for only second, just for his eyes to shoot open and his brows to furrow down. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, and she resumed her circles. He smiled and closed his eyes, once again at ease.

She stifled a laugh, at how simple he was to please, and how lucky they both were to have found each other in a such a messy world. And it was strange...it was very rare that she craved affection, or romance, the whole idea of it made her kind of cringe sometimes- yet she felt so comfortable laying here with him, surrounded by candles and laying in a fort of throw blankets. It was oddly comforting, to know that in this moment she could just be- that there was no real need for a facade of any type of persona right in this moment. She brought her left hand to his hair again, giving him a little head rub while her other hand ran over his stomach and chest under his thin white t-shirt. It hitting her all at once, that if anything could be considered perfection, it would be this moment, with Alexander, right here.

“You could be anywhere in the world, but you’re here with me. Ain’t that about a bitch.” she joked awkwardly with shake of her head, not letting up her movements.

His eyes opened at that- but they were still half closed. Darkened blue orbs half covered by sleepy kids stared up and into her soul for a second and she had to look away.

“Please, kid, where else would I be?” he challenged, with a lazy little yawn.

She shrugged, unable to find the right words, and he chuckled at her silence, and her eyes fell back on him. She paused this time, letting her hand rest on his chest, grazing her hand his right nipple softly.. He smiled a little at the tickling feeling of that. “If I didn’t meet you..what, I’d be...drunk somewhere with Dada? Talking about some new dumb thing he saw online, listening to his stoned ass. Or maybe wandering around a hotel alone? Trying to find somewhere other than my empty room read a script.” He finished his little rant with a chuckle. “Really no where else I’d rather be.” he added softly, with a small shrug.

She was taken aback at his brutal honesty, at how he opened himself up to her- this was a rare occasion indeed. She felt her heart physically softening in her chest for him, and it ached a bit.

“Nah. You’d be out making some new art. Creating. Being dope. You know. It’s what you do. It’s in your genes.” Building up the people she cared about was in her nature, and this earned a blush and a shy smile from him. He paused, those blue orbs scanning her face, from her eyes to her nose, to her lips- then back up again to her eyes. “Oh? Tell me more.” he teased and laughed, pinching his nipple so hard he jumped. “Only teasing. Only teasing. I appreciate you and your words. I appreciate them more than you know, my love.” He gently braced himself, so he could push himself up and out of her lap, adjusting his body so he could face her.

She swung her legs over his, scooting closer into him and his warm core, and he wrapped his hands around the small of her waist, nuzzling his nose on hers with a gentle eskimo kiss. “Don’t think anyone’s ever said anything that nice to me, and for no reason.” he said, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose.

She closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. The night was winding down, minutes until twelve now. The city was still buzzing- but it was significantly quieter right now. Their soft jazz and candles were still going strong.

She shrugged and he paused, waiting for her to finish her thought, and she took a moment to gather her words. Emotions and hormones were running through her at an all time high, and it was wonderfully painful, beautiful and messy at the same damn time. She knew what she had to get off of her chest, it had been a long time coming.

She took a shaky breath, raising her head so they were both eye level, holding the sides of his face and getting a good grip with her hands before starting. He noticed the moisture from her hands seeping through, a sign of her getting nervous- that he always found extra cute.

“I love you...Alex. I’ve known...for a while. But I’ve been. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.” she said meekly, her throat constricting slightly. Alexander had been the one who said I love you first, and she was anxiously waiting for the perfect moment to reciprocate the energy. This, was it. There was no other time.

Eyes softened, he smiled, his heart quickening a few beats, before tilting his head into hers, closing the small distance in between their faces with a rough, eager kiss. She dropped his hands hurriedly from his face, wrapping them around his neck and bringing herself closer to him. He pulled her in, and she crawled into his lap, straddling him. A hand in the back of her hair he gently tugged, pulling her face back. “Fuck. I love you, kid.” Was all he could manage to get out, before she was gripping at the bottom of his tee, and putting her lips back on his, desperate for more of him, for all of him- in this moment. Little did he know, she hadn’t even revealed her secret weapons- the lingerie and his chilled Tiramisu that she was sure he would get all excited about once he realized he had an post-sex snack waiting for him.

[gayoperatorgunclub]

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME: MontaDoc Edition? Pretty please? Or any MontaDoc content. I crave it. Much 💕

of course!!!!!!! sorry this has taken so long, but i sincerely hope you enjoy it!!! 💝💝💝

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - for fucking EVER!!!!!! 

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - two words: mutual. pining. this period, often referred to as the “Beginning of Operation: T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. (Temporary Employment As Masters of Dad And Dad Sweethearts)” however, unbeknownst to anybody else in rainbow, by the time Operation: T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. had begun, gustave and gilles had already been together for a couple of years. how did they actually get together? about six months after the GIGN joined rainbow, gustave was in the middle of a mountain of paperwork when he heard someone clear their throat. he spun around to scold whoever it was for coming to medbay when they were sick (despite the fact that he was coming down with a nasty cold), only to be greeted with gilles leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. “gustave. you look as though you’re about to meet death for dinner. how can you expect to take care of others when you’re not taking care of yourself?” gustave just sighed and shook his head, muttering something about leaving him be for another couple hours so he could finish his paperwork, but gilles has other ideas. in mere moments, gustave goes from standing over his desk, organizing some files, to being held in gilles’ big strong arms. “wh- gilles! i-” he was cut off by his own yawn, and gilles smiled at him fondly. gustave felt himself blush, and he squirmed a little, but let gilles carry him to the GIGN quarters. as soon as it seemed like gilles was going to leave, gustave pulled him down for a kiss, then pushed their foreheads together and whispered “you’re going to carry me all this way and not even stay to make sure i don’t go back to my office?” gilles just grinned at him, climbing into bed beside him and wrapping his arms around him. 

How was their first kiss? - ROMANTIQUE! and smelling of sickness but what can you do

Wedding:

Who proposed? - monty!! he decided to cook a romantic candlelit dinner at their apartment, and when he sees gustave come home from work, all ragged and exhausted, yet still with a glimmer of determination and subtle joy, he says the first thing that comes to mind: “will you marry me?” gustave froze, his cheeks still rosy and his hair sprinkled with snowflakes. “will i what?” gilles realized his mistake and flushed, stammering a response before gustave was standing in front of him, staring at him scrutinizingly. “gilles.” he started, reaching to intertwine their hands, bring them between their chests, “what did you say?” gilles gulped, then steeled himself and got down on one knee. “gustave kateb. love of my life, light of my days. the man i want to wake up next to every day for the rest of my life. the man who i adore with every fiber of my being. would you do me the honor of being my husband?” 

Who is the best man/men? - for monty: bandit! for doc: lion (everyone but them thought it was a joke until the day of the wedding). dominic and olivier’s dual best man speech is the stuff of legends. there were tears, there was laughter, and there was an almost excessive amount of thinly-veiled sexual innuendos at various people in attendance (including both grooms; the best men were both drunk of their asses) 

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - they actually fight over who gets to pick twitch! meanwhile rook is in the background like D: (don’t worry, it’s decided that he and twitch will be ring bearer and flower girl respectively) for monty: dokkaebi. for doc: finka 

Who did the most planning? - they both did! though gustave focused on food and flowers, and gilles focused on the guest list and the venue (but they ran things by each other before any final decisions were made)

Who stressed the most? - gilles! he was so worried about their families not getting along that he actually prepared a “leave my husband and his family alone or so help me i will never speak to you again” speech

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - gilles’ racist, homophobic, french nationalist uncle (no one in the family likes him, so it wasn’t a big loss) (this uncle also made a surprise appearance at the family dinner where gilles introduced gustave to the rest of his family, and started yelling about “godamn immigrants” and other such bigotted statements, before gilles’ sister physically dragged him out of the house and threw him out the door. afterwards, up in the guest bedroom, gilles quietly tells gustave that it’s okay if he wants to leave, or break up, or anything, and gustave just laughs and tells him that if he wasn’t prepared for family members to express their distaste, he wouldn’t be dating a white man. he pressed a kiss to gilles’ temple, before whispering “although, he was right about my being an immigrant; it’s just that i was born in Paris and immigrated with my family to algeria, not the other way around. A for effort, though”)

Sex:

Who is on top? - gilles!!!! although gustave will occassionally ride him 👀👀👀

Who is the one to instigate things? - gustave is lowkey horny 24/7, but if gilles walks in on him bending over to get something from a cabinet, or tilting his head all the way back while drinking from his water bottle, thereby showcasing the way his throat moves as he swallows, he will lose his shit 

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - okay i’m gonna change this one to an explanation of some things from below. i personally think doc lowkey a freak, and gilles is happy to oblige him if that’s what his lapin wants (although he’s not entirely sure how he feels about this “overstimulation” and “post-orgasm torture” and “cock & ball torture” stuff. specifically, he’s not sure he likes hurting gustave, but, while he probably won’t admit it out loud, he secretly adores making gustave cry. when he’s so helpless and powerless and mindless, and he’s begging for something, but for what he doesn’t really know. maybe it’s the knowledge that gilles is in complete control, that gustave trusts him to do this, to make him hurt and cry and just melt, the knowlege that gustave is completely reliant on him for his pleasure, his pain, and everything in between. it’s a heady thing, and gilles isn’t sure how he feels about it, but he’s pretty sure the warmth in his chest and the warmth in his gut are good signs 

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - unless they’re doing some of the things mentioned above, or mayhaps some denial 👀👀👀 then yeah, everyone gets the same. they’re very considerate when they’re just doing vanilla 

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children: btw, the rest of this is kinda set in a post-retirement au (idrk i just want them to have a farm and be peaceful). give it whatever context u want tho, i was just havin fun

How many children will they have? - they will have four cats and a dog, as well as 2 horses, a donkey, 5 cows, an alpaca, a rabbit, some ducks, a flock of sheep and goats, and the occasional visit from a herd of deer from the forest surrounding their little farm

How many children will they adopt? - since humans CANNOT, i repeat, CANNOT, give birth to the animals listed above, they’re all adopted

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - no one. the animals potty train themselves

Who is the stricter parent? - gilles sneaks them treats while gustave lectures them about dietary habits, so take your pick 

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - whenever gilles leaves to run errands, one of the goats goes into a depression so deep and miserable that they’re utterly inconsolable until he comes back. once they hear the sound of the car in the driveway, this lil goat, lovingly named “Bastard” by gustave, will climb onto the roof of the house and scream his joy over gilles’ return to the heavens 

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - they tag team on things like feeding the animals and cleaning out the barn, but gustave is much more organized about it

Who is the more loved parent? - the cats, dog, one of the horses, donkey, alpaca, rabbit, goats (except for Bastard), and deer all prefer gustave, though gilles is adequate in the event that gustave is busy with something else (although the alpaca and donkey hate his guts, and will escape their pastures to break into the house and be near gustave. gilles maintains that they’re both devil-spawn, but gustave says he’s just being dramatic and that Thamin (alpaca) and Albalatin (donkey) are complete angels who could do no wrong)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - animals have NOT unionized. yet. 

Who cried the most at graduation? - idk if this counts, but when Bastard finally figured out how to get himself down from the roof after getting himself onto it, gilles cried for an hour

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - gilles lowkey does whenever thamin and albalatin escape to go out into the world and commit crimes, but only to make sure his husband doesn’t get upset when he finds out his precious creatures are hell beasts. certainly not out of anything resembling tolerance or *shudder* like 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - gustave, but gilles can make a mean bowl of cereal

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - gustave. gilles will eat something straight from the garden and gustave is like “DID YOU CHECK IF IT WAS RIPE?????? YOU COULD DIE FROM THAT YOU KNOW, THEN WHERE WOULD I BE???” 

Who does the grocery shopping? - gustave. gilles is something of a hermit in their town, and people often remark about the “sweet, kind doctor and his utter brick wall of a husband” 

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever Bastard goes a day without doing something Bastardous 

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - both lowkey prefer salad, since they care for many animals that would often get used for their meat, and they can’t bear to think about hurting any of their babies

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - gilles. the people in town helped him when he burst into the little grocery store all panicked like “I NEED TO MAKE MY HUSBAND A SURPRISE DINNER BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE” 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - gustave. gilles like being at home, but city-boy over here thinks that restaurants are a weekly luxury

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - neither. it was thamin and albalatin, attempting to frame gilles for yet another felony

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - gustave. everything is color coded. sex toys included 

Who is really against chores? - gilles. gustave films him whenever he actually does clean and yells things like “go white boy go!!” and sends them to twitch for her T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. scrapbook 

Who cleans up after the pets? - they both do, but gilles gets stuck with shit duty more often than not

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - gilles, once. gustave walked in, sniffed the air, then glared at him until he actually swept whatever it was up and threw it away 

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - gustave “we can’t have guests over, the house is a mess” kateb

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Bastard. he then proceeded to eat it

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - gustave and his hour-long skincare routine 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - gustave, bc sadiqi the dog (not to be confused with sadiqi the kitten), or Big Sadiqi (kitten sadiqi is Little Sadiqi) is his, gilles, and he will not allow his precious boy to be influenced by such creatures as Bastard 

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - they get little sweaters for the animals. that is all

What are their goals for the relationship? - joke: gustave always says “the White Man’s money” despite the fact that his family is richer than gilles’. woke: mutual happiness, comfort, and healing 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - gustave. after 11 am, thamin and albalatin decide they’ve had enough and break in to lay down on the bed next to him. gilles banishes himself to the couch for a week

Who plays the most pranks? - Bastard, thamin, and albalatin. although gustave did dye the sheep’s wool (while it was still attached to them) different colors and patterns and, for the ones who were perfectly content to sit still and be held, replicas of famous paintings (his favorite artist is monet, in case you forgot that he’s french)

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Mission Turn It Up In The Club (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: fluff, dirty brains, drunk babbies, cutest allies, shocked fathers, confused jocks.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: When Thor indirectly challenges you- a complete noob with zero knowledge of espionage- to go on a relatively easy mission and get some intel, you accept it, never really ready for what's about to happen. And the camera crew records it all.

Word Count: Never underestimate the power of your inner voice because boy does it make you feel amazing about yourself sometimes!

Written for @captain-kelli 500 Fam Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for letting me participate! I picked the Quote (not a dialogue) : There is no limit to what we, as women, can accomplish.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

You come with your shades over your eyes and a yoghurt smoothie in your hand, and sit down on the chair in the recording room, adjusting your 'noice and toit' t-shirt before looking in the direction of the equipment. Clearing your throat and shifting back in the chair- going as back as you possibly can- you nod at Javier and get ready for the camera to roll, never taking off the shades.

You: *sighs* *rests face on your palm* *in a coarse incomprehensible voice* It all star- *tries to clear the coarseness of the throat* ahem ahem *makes bleching noises before groaning* *stops* *sighs* Hmm...where were we? *looks straight past the camera at Javier with half-open lips* Right...right. *looks back at the camera* *lips still half-open* It all started yesterday when a stupid b**** tried to become over smart.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

Everyone sat in the lounge of the Avengers Compound reading the reports that had just come in from Fury about a cartel trying to traffic alien wreckage- mostly weapons- to the black market. That 'everyone' excluded you, your adopted dog Zuko, and a very unamused and unbothered Loki sitting on the raised platform by the french windows with a copy of Sapiens and your favourite mug filled with hot tea.

The camera zoomed in on you concentrated on writing something on your laptop; so engrossed you were that you never noticed when Clint quietly gorged on your choco-chip cookies and drank your orange juice.

"But we only have to gather intel from a couple of guys meeting in the city today?"

Thor- who was finally at an Avengers meet after getting things in order for his Asgardians somewhere in Norway in their 'new Asgard'- pshd at the tablet in his hands and chuckled.

"Gather intel. Is that the human way to say drink some beer with these filthy humans and let them talk everything about their plan?"

"Damn right," everyone around him muttered.

"So easy even Y/N could do it," he chortled, catching your ears and a long sigh from the God sitting by the window enjoying the sun.

"Woah, now," Tony interjected, slapping Thor's shoulder with the back of his hand, "don't give her any ideas."

You narrowed your eyes at Tony. "I'm sure if Thor says I can do it-"

"Thor also said none of you ladies can process Asgardian mead," Clint added, buried in the sofa next to you, his tablet acting as a shield against the warm early afternoon sun.

Flashback to a party at the compound

Sam wobbled, trying to stand with the support of the bar while Clint kept muttering ‘I think I can see inside you guys. Like, really see.’ Bruce was being consoled by Thor in one corner. “The big guy hates me, Thor. He doesn’t-he doesn’t love me at aaaalllllll.” Scott and Bucky tried to wager who pin the donkey. The former didn’t even get to hold the tail in his hand. While all this mayhem unfurled, Natasha and Wanda sat by the bar recording everything on their phone while sipping their third Asgardian mead cocktail. “We should do this more often,” Natasha had suggested at one point during at night.

"I don’t get how you can't process it after the first buzz," Natasha called out from the dining table, never looking away from her tablet but still smiling.

"I'll sit this one out," Thor declared, sitting next to you, "I'm sure the Black Widow or Wanda can handle that."

You looked at him with an unwavering gaze for quite some time, making Thor uncomfortable after a certain point. Loki, who had caught you through the whole shebang, had a soft smile creeping on his face on watching you make his brother so uncomfortable.

"Wow," you finally spoke, letting your head move with the exclamation, "you are such a jock, aren't you?"

"A what?"

Loki: *smirks**snickers**snickers turn into uncontrollable laughter**continues laughing**stops midway with a serious look to shout* FINALLY!

"You don't want to go because there won't be any fighting and show of power," you state, turning yourself towards him, "and having conversations with guys seems too boring. Mostly because of your hate for bad guys. You know they won't give you answers straight away if you ask them politely, which I know you hate. So the next step is- 'why can't we just beat the shit out of them after they gave up on my offer to tell everything like good boys?'."

Thor: *crinkled brows* ...we can't? *looks behind the camera* why can't we? 

Tony and Steve stood next to each other- former's brows creased, latter's raised, both in a bit of admiration shock- taking in your breakdown. Finally, Steve leaned a little towards Tony to whisper, "did she just profile Thor?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony answered on the same wavelength before Steve could even finish his question, "she definitely did." He concluded with a smile filled with soft pride.

 "You know what, I'll take it," you casually declared to the lounge while leaning on the coffee table next to you. "Take what?" Steve asked, wanting to find out more of whatever was coming from your mouth. "The challenge," you shrugged, "I'll take up the part of getting some men to blabber about the locations. And while I'm at it, I'll get them to tell me about their boss' headquarters as well. Hmm?"

"Of course, you will," Tony chuckled softly in a trance for one second and furrowed his brows in confusion the next. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," you announced in his direction before going back to whatever it is you were so busy doing on your laptop, leaving Tony to let his mouth open in displeasure.

"Young lady, you're not going anywhere near those sons of bitches."

Steve looked at the camera with a raised brow.

Steve: You know that moment when you see one of your best friends do everything reckless in this goddamn world, wanting you to curse him with having to once step in your shoes and see what it's like to keep him in check? *smiles with satisfaction* This is one of those days when you see it coming true. When God finally heard your prayers and sends that very friend's kid to make every one of your wishes come true. *nods* *gets serious* Though I'm against putting Y/N in danger. *shakes head* Would never let her do something as reckless as her biological father. *smirks* But damn it feels good.

 Tony: *narrows eyes at the camera* Is that what Captain Star-spangled underwear thinks? *Nods* Hm. *clicks tongue* Well, that day isn't far when I fund research led by Bruce to make super babies with Steve's *makes air quotes* super semen and make him go through the fate of a father and the burdens that come with it.

*Silence*

*camera pans out to show a very pregnant and a very weirded out Pepper sitting next to him with her head resting in her palm as she hears her husband talk*

Pepper: *looks into the void* *inhales* Or you could just make him the mentor for the young heroes in the compound and watch him struggle to get them in line. *shrugs* Better yet, let him be in charge of showing Loki the ropes.

Tony: *still silent* *looks into his void* *blinks* *tilts his head* *looks back at the camera* *smirks* Pepper?

Pepper: Hmm?

Tony: *turns to face her* Have I told you how much I admire your genius?

Pepper: *making circles on Tony's arm* *whispers suggestively* You have but I won't mind you saying it again.

Tony: Well, you are genius, darling. A genius with the power to create countries and throw dictators off their high horses.

Pepper: *raises her head from her palm with a glint in her eyes* *softly announces* Anthony Stark, we're going to your office and you won't stop saying all of it till I tell you to.

Tony: *feels a visible shudder go down his spine as Pepper gets up and walks away* Y-yes ma'am. *looks at the camera with a hint of disbelief*

Pepper: *from outside the room* Now!

*Tony rushes out*

.

The Confidential Club

The camera went from black to a few neon lights flickering in the distance. A heavy base song faded in when everything started coming into focus.

Don't get sick

Don't get strep

Don't get bronchitis

Aye

A soothing glow of blue lit up the walls, which the camera did a slow three-sixty, through which two figures- both tall, one slender and the other jacked up- walked in a sexy slo-mo as the club started another track.

So this money shit, yeah it's been on my mind

Fuck ya possy bitch

I'ma pop off a tonne with the tummy miss

Yea this how I slum I'm bout' to see some tits

Yea ya mummy is fine

Aye

The boys walked into the neon-grazed club glowing with a hue of red, their freshly shampooed hair bouncing with every step till these two stopped right when they entered the floor, scanning the club and the club doing the same to them, but with lost breaths, increased temperatures and some very dirty thoughts and very dirty moans.

I'm a good boy I don't hit no licks yeah

I'm a bad boy flexing with some chicks yuh

I'm a weird boy smokin' on some Brits yuh

Who dat boi

I'm that boy yuh

The slo-mo continued, recording every pair of eyes that turned to get a look at the brothers whose presence was electrifying the entire building. Ladies forgot their drinks and men, men forgot their dates and- with a swift internal jolt- their toxic masculinity and the genderless seemed to have found Gods in the club tonight.

We them bad boy come give baby kiss

We just dropped it now

Now the swallow kiss

Have to beg these ladies try to do the splits

Tryna get the boy to do the coochie little

People moved as if these Gods were gravity, walking under those flickering club lights and smoked room, hands trying to get a touch, eyes wanting to get just one sweet stare, legs wanting to get a little brush, the heat pooling inside them looking for just a little satisfaction.

Yea I'm Neo watch me on the Matrix

All these sussy boy I just implore I do not play with

Baby (Baby) sure you're crazy

Boy that gave me 8 bars and some new restraint

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

The blond locks seemed to find suggestive fingers in them, while some other stray ones roamed on Thor's chest. Loki watched his brother being surrounded with the crowd of thirsty thots, his face dripping with pure displeasure, letting the camera catch it frame by frame, with brilliant tilts, doing it till Loki was looking right at the lens.

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

Another camera standing a little further recorded Javier on his knees trying to catch Loki's displeasure and piercing eyes- at anyone who even suggested that they wanted to touch him- before he looked at Javier. "What are you doing?" Loki judged Javiers' slow camera tilts.

Javier raised his index finger for a few moments, still recording those sour expressions before giving a thumbs up, getting up and walking towards the crowd that had surrounded a quite flattered Thor.

With an eye roll in his brother's direction, Loki turned to find the other camera looking at him, quite possibly directing him somewhere else because the next moment he was looking away. The camera turned in the same direction to show- behind the crowd of mellow, drunk and horny people- you laughing with your head tilted backwards, sitting with a group of men he had seen in the report when he was forced by Thor to come on this stupid so-called mission with him.

You sat between four men, enthusiastically narrating something to your small audience with wide eyes and wildly moving arms, entertaining the viewers with intention known to them and these green eyes who could see right through every one of those scums.

The camera- swivelling between you and Loki- caught him walking towards you only to be stopped by a pale hand- carrying beautifully manicured nails in blood-red- landing on his chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Natasha suggested to the God with a bare hint of a smile on her lips.

Loki looked down at the Black Widow dressed in a body-hugging black dress. "Oh, I wasn't going to stop her from having some fun, I assure you," he implored.

Natasha brought her hand forward for Loki to take the earpiece in her hand. "She's got this. But you're welcome to listen in on the conversation," Natasha offered.

"My brother can fill in for me considering Y/N is already doing his job," he mentioned, pointing towards the crowd taking selfies with a giddy Thor making girls swoon all around him.

"Hot molten chocolate cake!" came a voice from the earpiece, loud enough for Loki sensitive ears and the recorders in all the devices to catch before the God could walk away.

"That's the safe word," Natasha declared into the earpiece, before turning to look at the table where you were.

"I really should go," you colourfully begged the man who had his hand wrapped around your arm, never letting go, "my girls must be waiting for me."

"Call your girls," the man holding you said, "we can all party in the private room upstairs."

"Call my girls?" you said a little louder as if asking Natasha what to do.

"On it." Loki heard another voice come through the comms, making Natasha's tensed back go straight.

"It's okay, Y/N," she confirmed into your earpiece, "go ahead. Tell them the girls can't wait."

The camera caught Natasha turning with a smirk that sent a cold shiver over the glowing dance floor, making Loki mirror that smirk, looking forward to it all.

The enthusiasm in Natasha's face was disturbed by some invisible ripple. "Where's Thor?"

 Other Side of the Club

Javier's camera showed the blond God sitting at the bar with at least twenty ladies huddled with him, handing him drinks.

"Now this one," a petite little girl stated, handing him a tall glass of Long Island Iced Tea. Thor happily took the glass, had a decent sip, gulped it down, furrowed his brows and smacked his lips.

"No," he finally declared, earning a cheer from the girls. "Not laced!" they shouted before handing him another girl's drink.

.

Upstairs

The camera stuck to the corners as it followed the men violating your private space, their arms around you, walking in front of and behind you, leaving no space whatsoever to look for any signs of the cavalry.

"Woah, guys, how about you go in and I'll go look for my sisters-"

"Oh, no," the one with a stubble and a nice jawline declared, "you're coming with us and your friends can follow. Come on, let's get some more alcohol in you!"

"Haha, yeah!" you pretended to cheer, stepping inside the room behind the guy with a ponytail, who stood in the middle of the living room like a statue for a good second.

"What the hell is this?" He announced more than he asked, pointing to Anna- the camera girl- sitting at the other end of the room, recording the entrance.

"Oh," you exclaimed in realisation, making all four men turn towards you, never noticing the door be closed by another figure in the room, "that's my camera gal. She follows me everywhere. My dad kinda got into this idea of making a documentary out of our lives so one of them is always around me except for when I'm studying or in the bathroom. But I have seen them recording me once or twice when I was in the librar-"

"Shut up!" The jawline guy roared, taking out a gun from his back, "Shut the f*** up! Rory, I told you she was a student. She'll fetch a good price on the market."

You wanted to be frightened by that gun but the camera caught you more in offended disbelief than in fearful shock. "Excuse me? How old do you think I am? Just because I'm studying, you little-minded bitch?! Learning has no age limit, you arrogant paedophiles!"

"Oh well," Jaw-guy shrugged, taking off his jacket, "you're no use to the bosses then. Looks like we'll have to make use of you. And your pretty friend there can record us doing it." He grinned, both at you and then at the camera.

Ponytails looked at you with a wrinkled forehead. "Something's wrong," he stated, taking a step close to you.

"What do you mean?" The guy in the brown leather jacket asked.

"Look at her," he answered, pointing towards you, "she isn't even sweating right now."

You looked at Ponytails with furrowed brows. "You've set the temperature quite low, dude. I'm practically shivering in here."

"That's actually true," Jacket acknowledged, nodding at you.

"No, you dumb fuckers! She isn't scared!"

Jaw had a moment of realisation at Pony's words, taking hurried steps towards you, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you into the wall behind you.

"Oh my Gaahd," you tried to exclaim through whatever air was able to pass through your lungs, as you felt your hand automatically go grab the one that was causing you pain.

"Who are you?" Jaw hissed through his teeth close to your face. "Who do you work for?"

Your brows lifted. An aching moan left your lungs. You took in a little gulp of air. "I never thought this is how it goes down."

"That's because you picked the wrong men to mess with, darlin'."

Your raised brows crinkled at Jaw's statement. "What?"

You: Oh, I was thinking about the horny wave I got when he tried to choke me. *stretches the corner of her mouth in embarrassment* Yeah, turns out not the first thought that should come to your mind when someone's trying to kill you. But on the bright side I discovered a kink so *does a thumb up with both hands with a big grin.*

"But we haven't even started messing with you boys yet."

The camera swirled from your agitated, flushed face to the doorway leading to the bedroom, catching a very disinterested Wanda leaning on the wall as she checked out her nails.

"Wow," you choked, "were you always this hot, Wanda?"

"Who the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you?" Ponytails pointed his gun at the Scarlet Witch in haste, bringing forth a plasmic red spark in between her fingers, which, with a little twist, made the man point his gun at his buddy.

Another camera entered through the door to catch Jaw pulling you away from the wall to hold you in a lock with his gun pointed to your head. "One wrong move and I blow her brains out, bitch."

"One wrong move and I'll be doing the same to you, bitch."

Natasha stood behind Jaw with a gun. "Let go of her before my friend and I paint these walls with your insides."

Jaw cursed her under his breath, taking a few moments before releasing you. You quickly walked to a safer corner of the room, next to the fireplace, breathing with ease now.

"Y/N," she called out, "you okay, sweetie?"

"Uhh...just a little light-headed. Otherwise, I'm good," you responded, finding yourself lowering your voice, "though I wish someone else was choking me right now." You looked at the camera and narrowed your eyes. "Don't you judge me," you criticised in a whisper at it, feeling yourself tilt to one side, losing your balance, already fearing to hit the floor before being caught by strong hands.

"Oh," you sang while the camera panned out from you and those pale hands to show Loki very gracefully breaking your fall, "Hey, handsome!"

Loki didn't even blink as he tried to bring you back on your feet. "Drinking on a mission? Really? I thought you were better than this."

"Ugh," you bleched at him, "shush! I was in my form with those gin shots, okay. These whiney thirsty boys were blabbering the moment I sat down. Let's see your brother pull that off-wait. Why are you here?"

The two of you were oblivious to the fight going in the background being recorded by the other camera; the Black Widow breaking bones like twigs while the Scarlet Witch was making them vomit on their fears.

"Oh, I wanted to see what petty excuse do you humans use to enjoy and forget this pathetic world-"

The camera panned in on you while someone outside the frame screamed and was thrown into a wall. You smiled with pure emotion in your eyes while looking at Loki.

"You didn't know we were here, did you?" you asked with that smile still stuck on your face.

"No."

"Thor dragged you here, didn't he?"

"I came here by my own accord."

"What did he blackmail you with this time?"

"...I wasn't blackmailed! No one can blackmail m-"

Loki: Tony said he'd block my access to his library. *clenches his teeth* That old rusty metalhead.

"Fine if you don't wanna tell me. I'm just glad you came," you pointed, patting him on his chest, completely missing the knife flying towards you being blocked by his reflexes- nothing having been displaced but for his arm.

"Wow," you gasped, letting your hand touch his chest again, "what do you have under there? Rocks? How the heck is your chest so hard?"

"I'm a frost giant darling," he asserted, twirling the knife in his hand before throwing it forward without looking, landing right on Leather Jacket's hand about to pull the trigger and shoot Wanda.

"And I'm a human. What's your point? Why are your boobies so hard and mine so squishy? Look!"

You took his hand to make him feel your chest. "Okay," he cut you short before you could forcibly make him grope you.

"You are clearly running on alcohol right now."

You snorted. "No, dummy. I'm standing. Are you sure you're not the drunk one?"

Loki looked at the camera.

.

"I'm sorry," you whined.

The camera caught your figure partially as you hid behind Loki in the compound elevator while Wanda and Natasha stood on either side.

"Don't worry," Natasha reiterated, "we'll take care of it. Just don't tell Tony about the..." she waved her hand in the air like it meant something to you.

The ding announced your arrival to the lounge. Elevator doors opened to see Tony standing at the entrance with crossed arms, his eyes boring straight into everyone in front of him, not even bothering to blink.

Behind him Scott and Bucky sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and Home Alone on the big screen, their eyes and ears focused on all of you rather than the movie.

An everlasting moment of silence passed and you managed to get a look of those eyes of judgement over Loki's shoulder before quickly curling back into your hiding spot.

"Where were you?"

The room didn't even have time to register the chill when you heard Natasha speaking. "Wanda and I were out shopping. I don't know about these two," she announced with her hands raised, walking out while mouthing 'sorry' at your face that had just experienced third-tier betrayal.

"I suggest you come out from behind Aro here," Tony digressed, "he's not gonna hide you for the rest of your life."

Loki took a step out of the elevator, getting a little closer to Stark, towering him just a little, his hands resting in his pockets. Stark was visibly hating the suave play from the God.

You were stuck there for a few more seconds before stepping beside Loki, letting the camera capture the wide eyes, a gasp of shattering shock and the fumes dissipating to give place to something new.

Panning in on you, the camera caught the bruise growing on your cheek, the size of a pear.

"Y/N-" Stark had barely begun to address his horror when Loki cut him short.

"She’s fine, Stark. Just a little-"

"Who did this?!"

That erupting gaze was meant for you to answer the question and so the entire surrounding went silent for you to answer him. Even Home Alone was muted to hear what you had to say for this bruise.

"Mr Stark, I can explain." Your voice was a quarter of what it was half an hour ago, barely coming out in front of your father. "Please don't be mad. And please keep an open mind about it."

None of you could gather what rushed into Tony's mind because the next thing you knew, he felt himself shift back a little. Curse words flew under his breath as his hands tried to run over the tensed muscles in his face.

"Oh, my G-is this some sort of new...new thing you kids are into?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "What?"

You: *cringe* Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Get it out of my head! Ew!!

"N-No! I-what?! Nooooooo!" you stressed at the word as much as possible. The God stood there seemingly trying to make sense of this conversation.

"Loki and I were out on a date. We were karaoke-ing and I was dancing on the bar counter when I slipped and hit myself."

Loki did not miss even a second to look at the camera with pursed lips.

Loki: That's not what happened.

 Flashback to the club

You forced Loki on the dancefloor while Natasha took care of the goons.

"Come on, show me your mooooves, Loki," you shouted over the music before giddily jumping and taking a step back, colliding with a guy.

"Oh, I'm so-"

"What the f***!" The pasty blond guy cursed at you before looking at Loki. "Take care of your bitch, asshole."

Before Loki could take a stance between the two of you, he felt your hand block him, your eyes glowing at that rude stranger.

"Who the f*** are you calling, asshole, you dried pulp-less raisin!"

The guy twisted his jaw before stepping very close to you.

Loki- clearly uncomfortable by the distance- tried to pull you towards him and away from that pathetic excuse of a human

"Alright," the God announced, "you better watch-"

The camera caught the full-blown emotion of offence on Loki's face as you swatted his hands away.

"I called. Your boyfriend. An asshole. You c***."

Loki blinked in a sense of amusement at the audacity of that man, the ripples of tensed muscles under his black t-shirt quite visible for the ones who watched.

"At least I can take a pounding unlike your ego, you smelly ballsack," you spat back. "Now walk away before I bring a mirror and show you what a real asshole looks like." The infant rage that Loki was carrying in his entire body suddenly screeched to a halt as he looked at the back of your head with shocked confusion. "What kind of insult was that?"

The pasty guy was fuming now. Your words clearly rubbing him the wrong way.

"Oh, what happened?" you sang in a sarcasm filled tone. "Did your boring comebacks turn flaccid? Just like your virgin d-"

He pushed you back. "Shut the fuck up before I make you shut up."

Loki body stood as a shield- only behind you- wanting to go ahead and do something to that guy but you were not giving him a chance to do so.

You gasped. "The audacity of this bitch!" And pushed him back. "What're gonna do, fight me?"

No one saw it coming. The punch landed on your face within seconds, pushing your back into Loki's chest, the latter having to grab you to stop you from falling.

"Okay, that's it," Loki pulled you up, his eyes on fire glaring right at the man with the intention to kill. And as his luck for the night would have it, you used him as a support to gather a bit potential, scream "Son of a-" while charging at the guy. By now the rest of the ladies on the dancefloor had witnessed enough to come to your aid and beat the living hell out of that man. Pure, chaotic energy spreading over the floor that reflected in the pleasant amusement in Loki's eyes.

"By the Norns," Loki whispered, looking at the scene unfolding in front of him before looking at the camera, "remind me never to get on Y/N's bad side."

The pasty guy screamed out of the frame, making Loki turn at him with a layer of disappointment.

"Oh, you asked for it," he shouted at the man screaming for help before being swallowed whole by the river of women.

 You: *sighs* Of course, I can't tell Mr Stark I got punched while defending your honour.

Loki: *giggle snorts*

You: *turns to look at him* what?

Loki: You're right. I can see him never believing that.

You: *nodding in agreement* right?

Loki: Because he would cut my head off the day he does. *stops smiling*

You: Aw! I won't let him, buddy.

Loki: Oh, I doubt it. He is still in shock about the whole 'date' thing.

The camera flips to the lounge showing Stark sitting in between Scott and Bucky, looking in the distance- still in shock- while those two munched on their popcorns from the popcorn bowl kept in Tony's lap.

"Nah." he finally says out of the blue, almost making Scott jump, "Y/N can't date Loki? I'm sure she's just pulling my leg for not letting her go on that stupid interrogation mission."

Scott and Bucky exchanged glances before nodding and patting him on the back, resuming their movie with a 'sure buddy'.

You: *sheepishly* Yeah, I think we broke him.

Loki: At least he's behaving like he's supposed to, unlike my brother in such situations.

You: Huh...*nods* *furrows brows* speaking of Thor...where is he?

Loki:

You:

 The Club-a-Dub-Dub

The camera captured a face covered by flickering neon pink shades looking down at a laptop in those big hands while glowing neon party necklaces adorned his neck.

"All right let's do this," Thor stated in all seriousness, using a pink tic-tac to pull his hair up above his ear. The camera zoomed out a little to show him looking at a laptop placed in front of him on a pedestal.

"We are gathered here for a task that is too important for this world to be left to another time. A task so huge that my heart feels both burdened and honoured to be able to put it to fruition. A task so pure in its being that anyone who stands up against it in this club shall face my wrath. But not before I try to make them change their mind with love. Rosa and Gina, I ask you to step forward and be the blessed lot of this sacred ceremony."

The slow panning out of the frame showed two beautiful women step forward and face each other with pure smiles.

"By the power vested in me by becomeaminister.com, I am honoured to announce you wife and wife. You may now kiss."

An uproar of elated excitement filled the club just as Thor finished; the brides kissing and their friends celebrating. Everyone toasted to the newlywed couple before someone shouted to do the cha-cha slide.

The next thing you know, Thor and the rest of the people in the house were sliding left and right.

"THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!!!" Thor shouted with the jumps and twists, "I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER WHY I'D COME HERE!!"

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Life Story *Alfie SolomonsxOC*

Summary: Marianne has been lonely for a long time until she decides to meet her unusual neighbor. 

        Marianne Clark was very lonely. She had been for quite some time. Her parents were lost to the Spanish flu quite a while ago. Her husband, a wealthy heir to a family of shrewd businessmen, was killed in the War. She inherited a good sum of money and property but decided to sell the land. Everything sold except for a gorgeous manor in Margate. There she hid away from the rest of the world, curled up in her grief and sadness.

           As the years passed, Marianne found herself peeking out from behind the steel wall she’d put up between herself and the rest of the world. She’d managed to work through some of her grief although it was slow going. As long as she always heard the ocean at night, she knew the world was still turning.

           Soon, it came to her attention that she had a neighbor. Granted, their homes weren’t right next to each other, rather some ways down the gravel road. Marianne only noticed this because she saw a man returning to the home, she previously thought had been empty for quite some time. So, either he had just moved in or she’d been blissfully unaware of his presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Deciding it was a good step to reintroducing herself into the human world, she baked some treats and walked over to the stately home. Her knocks were met with silence for a good while until heavy footsteps and muttered grumbles approached the door.

           Marianne wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the man who answered the door certainly wasn’t it. Instantly, she was startled by the state of his face. Intense scarring covered the upper left side of his face, leaving a mangled mess of skin and areas that were still healing from stitches that had just recently been removed. The light caught his face and Marianne saw his left eye had been completely clouded over.

           “Yeah, didn’t always look like this, just so you know.” The man’s gruff accent interrupted Marianne’s impolite staring.            

           Her face turned red and she averted her eyes. “I’m sorry I…”

           “Nah, it’s gruesome, innit?” He mumbled and waved off her apologies. “Have we met? Me brain's been a bit muddled up so forgive me if I've forgotten who you are."

           “No, we've yet to meet. I’m uh-I’m your neighbor.” The woman pointed towards the direction of her home.

           “Oh yeah? You’re the phantom that haunts that place, aye?”

           Marianne looked alarmed. What on Earth was this man talking about? “Phantom?” She stammered. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

           “Me maid says that there’s a phantom woman that lives there. Yeah, lost her love in the war, right? So, she’s locked herself in that ol’ house, walking 'bout hoping her beau will return to her.” He pointed in the direction of her house.

           She cleared her throat and shook her head. A heavy feeling pressed against her chest. “I assure you I’m quite alive.”

           “Yeah…don’t look it, love.” Her neighbor peered at her with his good eye. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, I was dead too, not to long ago.” He winked and opened the door wider, gesturing for her to enter. “What’s your name, love?”

           The invitation was such a strange juxtaposition to how he was speaking. Was he a mad man? Or was he simply hinting at something she didn’t understand? Either way, Marianne wasn’t sure it was wise to step inside. “Oh I-well, it’s Marianne.” She answered. “But I can’t stay I-”

           He was already walking back inside. “How’d you take your tea then?”

           “My tea? But I-”

           “Margo?” He called into the house. “Put the kettle on, would you? We’ve got company.”

           Marianne cautiously stepped in although she didn’t plan on staying long. “I’m afraid I can’t stay for tea, Mr…” She traced his steps down the hallway to a sitting room. It was cluttered with odd artifacts and pirate-like treasures. French doors opened out to a balcony with a view of the churning ocean.

           “Oh, where are me fucking manners? Alfie Solomons.” He introduced himself. “Marianne, that’s a lovely name, innit? Now did ya keep your husband’s name or have you returned to your maiden name?”

           She blinked and stood stock-still in the doorway. “Why do you ask?”

           With a grunt, Alfie sat down in an armchair. “Just making conversation.”

           Well, at least the man was upfront. “I kept my husband’s name.”

           “Yeah, figure he’s dead, right, but that don’t mean the name’s dead. Name’s a name, innit?” He glanced at her. “Well go on, have a seat, then.”

           Marianne wasn’t sure why she sat down across the room from her neighbor. Intelligence would tell her to leave because the man clearly suffered brain damage from whatever happened to cause the scar around his eye. But there was a strange charisma to Alfie Solomons that lured her in. Perhaps it was her loneliness. She was willing to entertain even a raving lunatic.

           Alfie cracked his knuckles. “So, you gonna be polite then and just not ask?”

           She raised an eyebrow. “Ask what?”

           “’Bout this?” He gestured half-heartedly to his injured eye.

           “That would be rude of me.”

           He scoffed. “Rude. Well, I’ll tell ya anyway because I know you want to know. Everyone wants to fucking know, s'just human nature, innit? We're fascinated by the macabre and unnatural.”

           Yes, Marianne did want to know. Of course, she did. So she nodded meekly.

           “See, some fucking cunt, a dear friend of mine, Tommy Shelby, shot me right in the fucking face. Meant to kill me. Told him to, right, but he done this instead.”

           It was a lot to take in. Luckily. Alfie’s maid came in with tea, giving Marianne a chance to mull over what Alfie had just rambled off to her.

           “So, you asked a man to kill you?”

           “Yeah, well, got skin cancer.” He fixed his tea, plopping in two sugar cubes. “S’fucking painful. Not as painful as being shot in the fucking face, granted, but there you go.” He shrugged.

           “I’m sorry.” She gave her sympathy but apparently the man didn’t care for such things.

           “Ain’t enough time in the world for apologies, love. Best you keep on living how you please.”

           Marianne paused as she lifted the teacup to her lips. “Is that how you live?”

           Alfie rubbed his hands together. “You looking for a story, then?”

           “A story?”

           “Lonely phantom looking to the living for a story?” He cocked his head. “Is that what’ll bring you back to life?”

           Marianne returned her cup to its saucer. “I apologize, Mr. Solomons, I must’ve interrupted you…” She went to stand up to leave.

           “What’d I just fucking say ‘bout apologies?” Alfie waved at her to sit back down. “Where d’ya want me to begin then?”

           She looked to the door. It was simple enough to walk out the door and forget she ever met her odd neighbor. She could return home and shut the world out again. Curiosity got the better of her though. Her eyes returned to Alfie who was waiting expectantly for her answer. Slowly, she sat back down. “I suppose you can begin whenever.”

           He smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair. “That hat behind you?” He pointed over her shoulder.

           Placed delicately among the oddities in Alfie’s sitting room, was a black wide-brimmed hat. It looked well-worn and had gathered a bit of dust from its spot on the cabinet.

           “Go on, you can pick it up, read the inscription.” He nodded.

           Marianne leaned over the chair to carefully pluck the hat out of the objects, pointedly ignoring the taxidermy owl behind a glass dome nearby. She turned it over and looked inside the band of the hat.

           This hat is a kettle in which to boil up your wicked dreams and make a soup of your soul.

           She moved her thumb over the faded letters. Her eyes flicked up to Alfie for an explanation, not sure if he had written the inscription or there was another background.

           “That were me father’s hat.”

           Marianne set the hat down on the coffee table between them. She picked up her teacup again and got comfortable. From there, she was lead on a tour of the life of Alfie Solomons.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The story couldn’t be told in one afternoon. Before Marianne knew it, the sun had dipped below the ocean’s horizon. She bid her neighbor goodnight and returned home in the twilight. She tossed and turned in bed most of the night. Alfie’s story haunting her and consuming her mind. And they hadn’t even gotten to his first murder.

           Marianne spent a substantial amount of time with Alfie from then on. As he told her his story, he intermixed random conversations about whatever crossed his mind. Despite his vernacular, he proved to be very intelligent. Referencing philosophy and the Classics. Although he admitted that he reserved most of his reading for the Torah because it was such a strain now that he was half-blind.

           When he spoke of his time in the war, she noticed the faraway look in his eyes. He smiled when he spoke of his mother and siblings. His eagerness was palpable when he spoke about all the dogs he’d owned in his lifetime. Recounting their various mixed breeds and names.

           Marianne had gotten so accustomed to his company by the time he began on his life of organized crime. In fact, she would even venture to say that she had never had quite a friendship before. It had been ages since she laughed with another person.

           So, when he told her about what he’d done in Camden Town, she was thrown for a loop. It was reasonable that the man had a temper. Marianne had seen him at some of his lowest points when the pain and migraines had caused him immense discomfort. His mood was severely affected when those days came around. He tried to remain friendly but was irritable. But to learn that he was conniving enough to create an empire? It caused Marianne to pause and consider Alfie as a person. He was kind underneath all the thorny layers he’d built up over the decades. And yet he admitted to ruling Camden Town with an iron fist.

           But she continued to see him. She couldn’t imagine turning her back on him, even if for selfish reasons. His company had filled her with life again. And so, the story continued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “Felt the tide come in, woke me up. Always forget how fucking cold that water is, aye?” Alfie glanced outside to the ocean. It was summer. His brief installments of his life, paired with their long discussions about everything from the tides to politics, had taken about six months. By then, the two knew each other better than anyone else in their lives. Marianne was sure she hadn’t known nearly as much about her husband than she did about Alfie.  

           The man was an open book and overtime began to coax Marianne out of her shell. Even though she didn’t tell her entire life story as Alfie had, she did tell him a good deal about herself. She spoke about her husband and parents for the first time in years. She cried and Alfie had gotten up to hand her a handkerchief. She looked up at him as she accepted the token of solace. Their eyes met and there was a long pause before Alfie cleared his throat and retreated back to his armchair.

           That was when Marianne realized how she truly felt about Alfie. She was long past questioning herself. So, what if she found company in a man who seemed like the least likely companion? What mattered was the fondness she felt for him.

           “So, I dragged meself back up here and called for help.” He clasped his hands together.

           “And?” She prompted.

           “And?” He chuckled. “Not much else to say, love, they removed the bullet and stitched me back up. I woke up completely blind until I regained sight in my right eye.” He explained. “Came back here to watch the ships pass by. Then, one day, a beautiful stranger knocks on me door.”

           Marianne blushed. “And so, the story repeats.”

           “So, it repeats.” He nodded and smiled. “Tell you what though, these past few months have flown by.”

           “Is that your way of saying goodbye to me?” Marianne was only half-teasing. She was worried that Alfie would grow tired or bored of her once his story was complete.

           “Goodbye?” He frowned. “Mari, you’ve only just arrived.”

           Her heart skipped a beat. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

           “After you’ve passed me that oil.” He requested. “And a mirror.”

           Marianne stood up and did as he asked but neglected to grab the mirror. She chewed on her lip. “Can I?” She asked quietly.

           He raised an eyebrow. “Erm…yeah.” He was shocked that beautiful thing like her would want to keep his company, let alone touch his mangled face. But he didn’t oppose it either. He was a man, after all, a man who had spent enough time with her to become undeniably attached.

           Marianne was comfortable with him, but she was afraid of overstepping his boundaries. Cautiously, she perched on the arm of Alfie’s chair. She uncorked the oil with rosemary and lavender, designed to alleviate his pain and headaches. Dabbing some on her fingertips, she carefully began to rub the scented oil onto the scars. Passing over the deep lines permanently gouged in his skin and massaging into the scar tissue.

           Alfie closed his eyes, losing himself in her gentle touch. Marianne took her time, smiling when she saw the wrinkles around his eyes and forehead relax. The tension in his muscles slowly easing up.

           After a bit, she let Alfie relax for a little longer while she went to the kitchen to grab a towel. She returned, wiping the oil off her hands. She sat back down next to him and dabbed carefully at his face to clean up any excess of the liquid.

           He opened his eyes and found her face.

           “Bit better?” She asked softly.

           “You have no idea, love.” Maybe it was just her presence but the constant pounding in his head had diminished enough for him to notice.

           She gazed into his eyes and felt her face going red. “Well, I’m glad. You deserve some peace.”

           He reached up to touch her cheek. “Will you stay with me?” His voice was gentler than Marianne had ever heard it before.

           She nodded silently and dipped down to press her lips to his.

           How wonderful it was to be added to Alfie Solomons’s story.

Masterlist

[geralehane]

A Faeverse Story: The Park Fae

(faeverse is my new series of interconnected short stories about fae and their girlfriends interactions with humans.)

Lenny first meets her when she’s walking Rem on a chilly spring night. She notices her because Rem, being the extremely friendly young dog she is, lunges in her direction, eager to make friends. Otherwise, she’d probably remain a faceless silhouette in the shadow of a broken streetlamp.

First time she sees her, she’s tugging on the leash in an attempt to restrain her dog and pull her away from the bench. She mentally thanks her past self for deciding not to let Rem off the leash until they are deeper in the park. If she had, Rem would’ve reached the bench in no time and actually leapt at the person, instead of simply panting excitedly a few feet away from them. The rushed apology at the tip of her tongue dies when she glances at the seated stranger and realizes she’s not paying any attention to them. She’s staring at her phone, brows furrowed in deep thought as she doesn’t blink. There’s nothing particularly unusual about that - Lenny herself has received plenty of comments about her resting angry scowl when she’s browsing through something. People often mistake the look of deep concentration for discontent.

Except the girl’s phone is off. Lenny blinks, but shrugs it off after a second of confusion. She doesn’t know that girl, and she doesn’t know her story. Perhaps, she’s waiting for an important call. At midnight. Alone in the park.

But, like she said – she doesn’t know her story. So she simply takes a turn and walks away, the brief thought about the girl’s beauty - apparent even when obstructed by darkness - quickly forgotten as she hurries to keep up with a happily strutting Rem.

She probably wouldn’t think twice about the chance encounter – okay, maybe a couple of times, not more – if she didn’t run into her again the very next day, at the exact same time. Seated on that very bench, the girl quickly smokes, each puff shaky and each exhale rushed and tense. The streetlamp she’s under is repaired, and it illuminates her surprisingly soft features and blonde hair, painted golden with the warm light. She looks to be around Lenny’s age, maybe a little younger, but definitely in her early twenties.

Once is a happy coincidence. Twice is a pattern. Thrice could be fate if one believed in it. Lenny’s not sure she does. She is sure, though, suddenly, that she wishes there were a third time. Just so she has something to approach the girl with. Because tonight, she turns left before she reaches the bench and hastily walks away, for once grateful for Rem’s near-obsessive determination to sniff things that are a mile away.

She doesn’t think she can explain her sudden flight. It may or may not have something to do with the girl’s strikingly gentle beauty. Lenny thinks any artist would be ecstatic to paint her, warm golden hues and soft strokes covering the canvas, not one harsh line in sight. And, even though she can barely sketch a table, she perfectly envisions the piece in her head. Along with the sweet buttery smell of French toast, and the scent of freshly pressed orange juice on a sunny, lazy Sunday afternoon, when pajamas are never taken off and there’s only place for two in the entire tiny world of a small apartment filled with slow smiles and touches and smooth blonde hair scattered across the pillow…

Rem attempts to chase a stray cat, jostling Lenny out of her thoughts that are bordering on creepy, and she shakes her head as she scowls at herself. You literally just met her. No, you didn’t even meet her, you just saw her for a total of two times and ten minutes. Calla, her best friend, has said on a number of occasions that she couldn’t be more of a lesbian stereotype if she donned a thousand flannel shirts. This is certainly one of those occasions, she thinks with an involuntary grin as she imagines Calla scoffing at her when she tells her about this.

Sighing, she calls for Rem to go home, and tells herself not to look back.

The girl’s silhouette is still on the bench when she does. //

Lenny’s vague, unclear wish comes true the next day. The girl is still there. For a brief, insane moment, she imagines her to be the park fae, messing with people’s heads and wearing them down before luring them to vanish in a different, colorful, gorgeously terrifying world.

She doubts, though, that the park fae would look this… sad. Desperate. Even if creatures like that existed, the girl is still undeniably human. And tonight, her expression is more broken, and because of that, Lenny can’t keep putting the inevitable off.

“Uh,” she clears her throat as she shortens the leash, hoping Rem won’t jump. “Hi.”

The girl blinks, as if shaking off a daze, or a daydream, and slowly turns her head to meet Lenny’s increasingly scared eyes. “Hello?” She asks more than states, arching one brow.

Lenny swallows. Right. “I, uh – I couldn’t help but notice you… sitting here,” this is not going well, “alone and – do you need help? I mean, if you--”

“I,” the girl interrupts before Lenny digs a deeper hole for herself and a smaller one for Rem just because she refuses to die of embarrassment alone and she’s a horrible person who’ll drag her dog down with her, “am fine. You need to mind your own business.” She glances at Rem who’s curiously wagging her tail and attempting to come closer, and Lenny sees a brief, amused smile escape her before she shuts down and turns her attention to her phone, this time with its screen lit up.

The lightbulb has already gone off inside her head before Lenny has a chance to smash it into a million pieces. Rem. She likes Rem.

And you still don’t know anything about her – and now, you’ve been given a pretty clear instruction to fuck off, she reminds herself as she mumbles an apology and rushes to get out of there. Besides, using her dog to – what? chase the notorious get the girl cliché? – get closer to someone doesn’t feel right.

A plan’s already forming, however, and Lenny doesn’t know if she’s really powerless to stop it or if she’s just telling herself she is.

//

“I’ve always wanted to say it like they do in bad comedies, so thank you for the opportunity,” Calla happily informs her. “So here we go. You did what?!”

Lenny can’t help a short laugh despite the feeling of deep embarrassment spilling in her chest. “I, Lenny the useless lesbian, let Rem off the leash for the sole purpose of getting a girl’s number,” she says solemnly, trying – and failing – not to snicker. This whole thing is just so – absurd.

Calla’s dirty blonde curls bounce as she shakes her head in amusement. “You’re using her,” she says, faux accusatory. “She’s using you, hon.” Rem only yawns at that as she lays sprawled out next to Calla on Lenny’s couch, her head resting in her lap. Calla chuckles and scratches at Rem’s droopy ears. “Maybe the usage is mutual,” she notes.

“Hey. My dog loves me.”

“And yet she chooses my lap over yours every time,” Call rebuffs playfully. “But back to that girl. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t – ugh,” Lenny throws her arms in the air, exasperated with herself. “I used my dog as a means to a questionable end. I’m horrible.”

Blue eyes roll at her. “Alright, school production of Hamlet, calm down. Did you score or not?”

“Would I be sitting here disappointed with myself if I did?”

Her friend shrugs. “Hey, I don’t know your life. Maybe.” Except Calla does know her life. Sometimes, she knows her better than she knows herself.

“Well, I didn’t,” she huffs, standing up from her chair and plopping onto the couch next to a grinning Calla. “Why do I always do this? Why do I always – chase the fairy dust?”

Calla hums, sympathetic. “You’ve totally imagined your whole life together already, haven’t you?” Her grin grows softer when Lenny only gives her a defeated nod. “Can I just say that I’m glad you’re not attracted to me? Cause I can’t imagine how awkward it’d be for you to be friends with me after wondering what I look like naked. Or carrying your fifth child.”

“Okay first, I only want four, and two, I’ve seen you naked. And – stop putting ideas in my head,” Lenny pushes her shoulder, gently, before getting up with a sigh. “I gotta take Rem out. You coming?”

“Obviously. Wait, you never told me what happened after Rem got to slobber all over the poor girl and you lived vicariously through your dog.”

“She didn’t slobber,” Lenny protests. Maybe a little. “And nothing really happened. Rem ran over to her, she pet her, called her a good girl, and ignored me. Then Rem got bored and ran away.” She sighs. “And so did I.”

“Girl,” Calla drawls, visibly struggling to hold her laughter in. “That’s brutal. Is that why we’re taking Rem out an hour earlier than usual? So you don’t run into her?”

Lenny doesn’t reply, because she doesn’t have to. Calla knew the answer to that question before she asked.

There is a fatal flaw in her otherwise – well – still poorly thought out plan. She doesn’t actually know when exactly the girl comes to the park, because every time she sees her, she’s already there, on that bench. Lenny’s kind of assumed that she shows up mere minutes before her, and boy is she proven wrong tonight.

“Calla,” she says, lowly. “That’s her. Over there.”

“Do you think she wanted to avoid you, too?”

Must she? “If she did, she would have come an hour later, not earlier,” Lenny gruffly replies, somewhat offended. Even though the girl would be justified in her desire to avoid her after last night’s disastrous display. “I think – I guess that’s just when she comes here.”

She already knows she’s not going to like whatever Calla’s about to say when she sees that dreadful determined look in her eyes. That look has gotten them in trouble plenty of times. Admittedly, it also led to many fond memories, but those became fond after a certain passage of time. Like when she got them arrested in a small southern town they were passing through. Her heart was in the right place, but her bare chest wasn’t, and indecent exposure is not pretty on anyone’s record.

“Why don’t we find out?” Here it is. Lenny nods to herself as she catches Calla’s elbow, gently but firmly tugging her back and meeting her glaring hazel eyes with her own stern ones.

“No,” she simply says, shaking her head. “She probably already thinks I’m stalking her. Please don’t add to that.”

“Jesus. Okay,” Calla murmurs, mostly to herself, and there it is again – that fire she gets in her eyes just before she’s about to explode. “Lenny. You walk your dog in this park twice a day. You’ve lived near this park for several fucking years. This girl showed up, what, two days ago? You act like she owns that bench,” Calla lets out an agitated breath while Lenny blinks, ambushed. “For all you know, she might be prepping to blow this place up, cause this whole thing is pretty damn suspicious if you ask me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lenny states.

Calla shrugs, visibly calming down. “Not in the world we live in, but yeah, doubt she’d hang around here drawing attention to herself if she were to try something like that,” she admits. “Still. She’s the weird one. Not you.”

“Or,” Lenny says, “no one is weird and everyone should mind their own business.”

“Or that.” Hazel eyes twinkle with self-satisfaction. “So let’s do just that. Wanna play catch, baby?” The last sentence is intended for Rem, and she replies with a happy bark, making them both grin.

She only glances at the girl twice that evening, and she thinks she sees her hastily turn away the second time she does, as if afraid Lenny will catch her looking at them. But she’s not sure.

//

It rains the next night, and it’s the dreadful kind. She almost didn’t take Rem out, but the pitiful whimpers and gazes her dog shot her while scratching at the front door didn’t leave her much choice. So they both don raincoats and ran outside.

There is something reliving, liberating about water. As cliché as it is, it truly does wash everything away, leaving you bare and clean and free. Lenny takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with cold, fresh air, and stretches her hand out, catching the waterfall and splashing her face with it. Her mood quickly improves as she imagines brewing herself some hot tea with apples and spices and curling up on the couch with Rem and a book after they are done with the walk. It’s always so much better inside when it’s awful outside. Makes her appreciate the smallest things, like warm blankets and comfy pajamas and old Halloween specials.

Her growing smile fades, however, when she sees the familiar figure perched on the bench, with her arms crossed and shivering. Is she insane? Even Rem doesn’t want to be here – she quickly takes care of her dog business and is now standing beside Lenny, tail tucked in as she patiently waits to be ushered inside.

She doesn’t even really think as she marches up to the girl on the bench, strides long and purposeful. “Hey,” she says – snaps, really, the combination of terrible weather and the bizarreness of this situation making her impatient. The girl’s expression is unreadable as she meets her gaze. Lenny figures she’s too cold to care about being bothered right now. “I know it’s not my place, but you’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay here. You’re clearly waiting for something, or someone, but you can do it in my apartment. My windows overlook the park.”

The girl bites her lip. Mostly to stop it from trembling. “How do I know you’re not gonna feed me to your dog?”

“Don’t worry, she’s vegetarian,” Lenny quips. Calla once told her that her wit is quicker – and much more brazen – when she’s under pressure. The urgency of this situation could be considered pressure, she thinks. She just really doesn’t want her to stay here. “If you’re apprehensive, which is understandable, let me walk you to a café, or – something. You can’t stay here. It’s gonna rain all night.” She licks her lips, nervous, and tastes the rain drops. Fresh.

The girl glances at Rem, who’s beginning to tremble. “Fine.” Without adding anything else, she stands up, desperately hugging herself to warm up, and brusquely starts walking. Lenny hurries after her, mildly bewildered at the girl’s rudeness. But she thinks it doesn’t matter. At least she’ll be someplace warm now.

“So, uh, there’s this coffee shop down the street – it closes in one hour, though, so I don’t know--”

“I thought we were going to yours,” the girl interrupts. “Unless your dog has changed her mind about vegetarianism,” she adds, then. It’s deadpan, but it is a joke, and that’s enormous progress.

“Yeah, I don’t think she’s aware she’s adopted that philosophy,” Lenny chuckles. They never slow down, and it’s a short walk to her building. It’s just across the road.

The girl presses the elevator button, and it arrives almost immediately. “Which floor?”

“Uh, sixth. You can see your bench from my living room.” Why, Lenny? The girl cocks an eyebrow, and she hurries to explain. “I wasn’t – watching you, or anything. I’ve lived here for a couple of years now and I pretty much memorized the layout of the park by now.”

“Even if you did, it’s whatever. It’s your window,” the girl says after a moment of consideration. She doesn’t sound like that’s something she wouldn’t mind. More like someone who accepts it’s out of their control.

Lenny feels the need to convince her she’s saying the truth. “But I didn’t. It wouldn’t -- feel right.” The elevator stops and dings, saving them both from a yet another awkward moment.

//

“I’ll go put the kettle on,” Lenny informs the girl when they walk in. “There’s a blanket on the couch. If you want, I can give you some dry clothes.”

“That… would be nice,” the girl says slowly, as if still contemplating whether she wants to be here. “Thank you.”

Lenny tries not to show her surprise. “You’re welcome,” she smiles, and kneels to wipe Rem’s paws. “Just give me a minute.”

When she walks into the living room with a cup of tea and a change of clothes, the girl’s curled up on the couch, and the blanket’s next to her. “I didn’t want to make it wet,” she says when Lenny gives her a questioning look. Rem chooses this exact moment to burst into the room and jump on the couch, hogging the blanket all to herself. “And I didn’t’ wanna piss her off,” the girl adds, with a small smile.

Lenny makes a mental note to buy Rem any treats she wants. “I have other blankets,” she tells her. “Here. I hope you don’t mind sweatpants – I figured their size is more or less universal.”

“I don’t think I have the right to mind anything right now. Although if you have something of your girlfriend’s, that would probably fit me better. You’re taller than me.”

Lenny feels like she’s been thrust outside once more, only this time without a raincoat, or any clothes for that matter. “My -- I don’t have a girlfriend,” she stutters. “You mean Calla? Calla’s my best friend.”

“I guess Calla, yeah,” the girl shrugs, running her hand through her damp hair. “The girl I saw you with last night?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s Calla. And we’re definitely not dating.” Lenny lets out a disbelieving chuckle, because – Calla? No way.

“Why not? You seemed – cozy.” The girl’s lips twitch in amusement.

“We’re long time friends,” she says, carefully settling in a chair before the girl. “I’ve known her my entire life. And – cozy? What does that even mean?”

She watches her shrug. “I don’t know. Comfortable?”

“Well. That happens when you’ve known someone for a while.”

The girl scoffs. “I’ve known my sister for a while,” she tells her. “We don’t look like that.”

“Sisters and friends are two different things,” Lenny feels the need to defend her friendship. They’ve been best friends since preschool, and not once did she allow herself to embarrass Calla by being anything more than that. Sure, her friend is attractive – insanely so – and she’s the best person she knows, but she’s never stepped out of line. And now, this random stranger mistakes them for girlfriends after watching them for an hour.

“True,” the girl says. “When those friends really wanna bang.”

“That’s insane,” Lenny feels the heat rise to her cheeks. Okay, she’ll admit it – it’s not like she’s never thought of it, but -- come on. Everyone’s thought about having sex with their amazing, beautiful, funny best friend. Right?

She needs a change of subject. “I’m sorry – can you tell me your name? Mine’s Lenny.”

As per usual, when someone finds out her name, their eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Lenny? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“Do things still have gender, really,” Lenny muses, carefully settling in a chair before the girl and mentally high-fiving herself when she grins. “It’s Elena, but I hate it, so I shortened it to Lenny.”

“Ah. It suits you.” The girl pauses, seemingly thinking something over. “Reena.”

“It’s a beautiful name.”

Reena’s hair, still heavy with rain, falls over her shoulder when she cocks her head, studying her. “You sure I’m the one you want to be hitting on?”

“I’m sure I don’t wanna continue this conversation,” Lenny mutters, unable to fight the scowl settling over her face. Something akin to regret flashes through Reena’s eyes, and she nods, standing up and clutching Lenny’s clothes to her chest.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. Sorry. I just… tend to run my mouth when I’m out of my element. Guess I misjudged the situation.”

“I guess so,” Lenny says, but there’s no bite.

“Right. Well – I’ll go change.” With that, she turns and leaves.

“Bathroom’s down the hallway,” Lenny yells after her, but the only answer she gets is the sound of a door opening and closing.

//

The rain only pours harder, and doesn’t show any sign of stopping. Lenny slowly breathes in the warmth of her home as she stands before the window, watching the deserted park and glistening, trembling leaves of its trees. If she lights the candles, would it seem inappropriate? It is, after all, the perfect date night. At least in her books. Cold and awful outside, warm and toasty inside; lazy cuddles and slow, gentle touches in a messy bed full of pillows and blankets…

“I’m back,” Reena announces, jostling her out of her thoughts. Her hair’s still damp, but she looks much better now, and there’s a rosy tint to her cheeks. “I… I don’t say this often – mostly because there’s not a lot of people I can say this to, but… Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to do this.” The raw sincerity of her voice is unexpected, and Lenny swallows, trying and failing to find words to use. Come on. Anything.

“Well. I mean. I still could murder you.” Anything but that, Jesus Christ, she thinks, mortified. But Reena smirks and plops back onto the couch, fingers sliding through Rem’s fur.

“I refuse to die sober. You got anything to drink?”

As it turns out, she does. Half a bottle of red, spicy wine later, the conversation starts to flow. At first, it’s small stuff. Latest news, movies, music. Lenny’s somehow not surprised to learn their tastes are different to the point of clashing. But that doesn’t lead to any awkward silences; if anything, it fuels the dialogue. Another half gone, though, and Reena’s baby blues sparkle with curiosity. “So,” she announces, suddenly, cutting Lenny off mid-word. “Is Calla short for something?”

“No, it’s just Calla,” Lenny says, almost on autopilot, before blinking in confusion. “Wait – why?”

“Nothing.” Reena’s shrug is hilarious in the oversized hoodie she’s wearing. “It’s a beautiful name. Rare.”

“It is. It suits her,” Lenny says before she can fully process what it is she’s saying. Once her own words reach her, she shakes her head, frowning. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Why not?” Reena springs to her feet, abruptly. Lenny’s noticed she has a knack for startling people. Or she’s just easily startled. Probably the latter. She watches her as she comes up to her old record player and cocks her head to the side studying it. “What if I’m a nomadic cupid wandering the world and helping the helpless? Or a love goddess,” the last part is muttered to herself, lower, but Lenny still hears. “I like that better. Yeah. Love goddess.”

“I’m not helpless,” Lenny states. “And you’re drunk.”

“Maybe. Does it matter?” Reena fishes out a vinyl record and puts it on, not stumbling once. Slow, steady beats fill the room, along with a soft bass, and Lenny releases a tense breath as she recognizes the song. “This. I think this suits us right now.”

“Us?” Lenny feels her brow raise of its own accord, but Reena only laughs.

“Don’t change the subject. Calla is a beautiful name.”

“I thought we already established that.” She watches Reena gently sway to Stevie’s velvet vocals as they pour from the player and seemingly envelop her entire being.

“Yes. And you said it suits her because she’s beautiful, too. Do you think she’s beautiful?”

“Do you always play cupid when you’re drunk?” The light from the lamppost outside and the darkness of the apartment perfectly clash on Reena’s face, making one eye shine brighter than the other, and Lenny suddenly thinks back to her first – or was it second – insane thought she’s had when she saw her dark, unmoving figure in the park. Fae, luring you in.

Or bringing you to a realization you wouldn’t have reached on your own.

She shakes her head while Reena chuckles. “Not really,” she answers her previous question. “It’s just… Sometimes it’s easier to spill your guts out to a complete stranger, and, well – I gotta repay you somehow for shelter and drinks.”

Lenny decides to play the game Reena’s offering, then. Or something like that. “Who are you waiting for every night?”

Blue eyes sharpen, for a fraction of a second. “Do you think Calla’s beautiful?”

It’s after a short, tense pause that Lenny replies, and her voice is soft. “I’d have to be blind not to.” There is a part of her – and she’s not sure whether it’s a part she’s been burying, or a part that’s been sleeping and she had no idea about, or it’s a new, unexplored part, but – there’s a part of her that’s raising its head, slowly, tentatively, and looking around and taking everything in and smiling, wider and wider. Maybe Reena is onto something with this whole perfect strangers deal. Maybe.

Reena’s smirk is quick. “I have a sister,” she says. “At least – I hope I still have a sister. She told me to wait for her here, where we grew up playing. She’ll take me with her. I just have to wait.”

Dreams has long since faded into the crackling of vinyl, indicating the end of record. Lenny climbs to her feet and slowly comes up to the player, watching Reena’s tense posture as she flips the vinyl. “I used to love this song,” her guest says when Rhiannon starts filling the room.

Lenny decides she’ll ask about the past tense later. “Are you and your sister in trouble?”

“You could say that,” a careless shoulder shrug lets her know she won’t get anything out of her. “I’ll have to go soon.” Blue eyes meet hers, and Lenny’s struck with the realization that Reena wasn’t really drunk this entire time. “When I do, give it another thought.”

“Me and Calla? Why do you – care so much about that?” This is more than a little bizarre. Lenny’s been waiting to wake up drenched in cold sweat alone in her bed for the past ten minutes.

“You looked happy,” Reena replies simply. Almost childlike. Lenny finds herself wondering about her actual age. “I could use some happiness. Even if it’s not in my life. Even if it’s just the knowledge of someone -- being happy. You know?”

“No,” Lenny says truthfully. “Not really. But I will think about it. I probably won’t be able to think about anything else for the next couple of months.”

“Good.” Reena glances past her shoulder, then, and her eyes grow just a touch wider as a new kind of smile graces her lips. “You know,” she muses, still not looking at her. “I think I’m almost sad I won’t see you again.”

Lenny expects to see a dark figure when she turns around and looks out the window. There, next to Reena’s bench, stands a tall, slim girl, and the way she waves, once, lazily, leaves no doubt in her mind that she knows she’s being watched. And she knows where Reena is.

She’ll need more wine after this.

“Really gotta go now,” Reena tells her as she quickly changes back into her soaked clothes. Rem, who’s been napping on the couch while they drank, is now wide awake as she jumps around Reena, thinking they are going outside. She laughs. “No, bud, you’re staying. I’ll miss you.” Then, she looks at Lenny, and there’s unfamiliar warmth in her gaze that spreads through Lenny’s veins. “Have a good life, Elena. I know – you hate that, but – guess I just felt like saying your actual name.”

“Wait!” Lenny’s head spins as she clumsily chases after her, catching her by the door. “How do I… how do I know you’re okay? That you’ll be okay?”

Reena’s smile is soft. Almost like Calla’s, Lenny catches herself thinking, and blink at the strange thought. “Guess you’ll have to trust me on that,” she tells her, and walks out with one small, final wave. Lenny watches her get in the elevator, and then rushes back inside the apartment, to the window. Seconds tick by as she watches, tense, anticipating something she’s not sure of herself. Reena’s sister still stands there. On count twelve, Reena exits the building and walks over to her, quick and purposeful. On count thirty – Lenny’s not sure why she’s still counting – she reaches her, and they embrace, the gesture familiar and relieved. And then, they walk away together. Lenny watches until they disappear behind the tall, dark trees – until the wall of rain separates her from ever finding out Reena’s story.

She’s not sure it’s a bad thing, and she’s not sure it’s a good thing. She’s also not sure what exactly she was waiting for. After all Reena’s little jokes about her being a cupid, perhaps, she half-expected her to fly away, or dissolve in the rain. Maybe she did and Lenny’s still-drunken, bewildered brain refused to process that. Maybe. All she knows is she’s gone, and there’s something she’s left behind. A new determination, or feeling – or an emotion previously buried and uncovered just now.

Lenny gulps down the rest of her wine and stumbles to bed, passing out as soon as her head hits the pillow.

//

Waking up early is always a task next to impossible for someone who works from home. Or Lenny is the minority and everyone’s got their shit together, springing up at seven am and running ten miles with their dog and saving a couple of babies from burning houses while she struggles to keep her eyes open.

All she needs to do is get out of bed. The battle’s won when she drags herself to the shower. After that it’s significantly easier to function. Take Rem out for a short walk – they’ll go for a long, exercise-filled one after lunch. Cook breakfast – that’s her favorite part. Today, she decides to go for the full English. All she’s missing are mushrooms, but that’s nothing a quick grocery run won’t fix. Then, text Calla. And get to work. The usual morning routine.

Calla. The drop of her stomach at the name is as sudden as it is, paradoxically, pleasant. She realizes she hasn’t seen her in a while, before realizing that three days is not a while for normal people. But the pull in her chest is too strong to either ignore or give it much rational thought. So she acts.

“Hey,” Calla’s voice is pleasantly surprised. “What’s up?”

“Wanna get breakfast with me?” Lenny blurts out in lieu of greeting. She imagines Calla’s hazel eyes widening ever so slightly as she bites her the inside of her cheek, like she always does when she has to think something through.

The pull in her chest grows stronger.

“Sure,” she finally hears her reply. “Would love to put that flexible schedule to the test.”

Lenny laughs. “You spend two hours a day at the office at most. Pretty sure you’ve been testing that schedule this entire time.”

She can practically see Calla’s careless shrug. “I’m a photographer. An artist. A free spirit.”

“And I support that. Meet you at Sadelle’s in an hour?”

She can always hear when Calla’s smiling, and today’s no exception. “Sounds good. See you soon.”

“So what’s up with that girl?”

Lenny bites into her bagel and slowly chews as she regards her friend. “What girl?”

Calla rolls her eyes at her. “The one you wouldn’t shut up about,” she says, sounding mildly annoyed. “She’s still on that bench?”

“Oh,” she raises her eyebrows as she remembers. Right. The girl. “Um, she left with some girl last night. Probably the one she was waiting for this whole time.”

“Weird,” Calla comments as she watches her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” she takes a sip of her coffee. Calla’s still staring at her, as if not quite believing what she’s saying. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty hung up on that chick, and now you couldn’t care less.”

Hung up. Huh. Oh, she thinks she remembers being weird about it – but what else is new. It’s all kind of hazy, now. Perhaps, that was a short moment of insanity and childish infatuation. “I mean, I barely knew her,” she shrugs. “I didn’t, in fact, know her at all. The whole thing was dumb.”

“Wow.” Calla smiles, slowly. “I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“If you’re that easily impressed, you’d love dating me,” Lenny laughs, but cuts herself off when she realizes what she’s just said. Calla doesn’t seem to mind it, though, only rolling her eyes as she chuckles along.

“You’re so wrong,” she says. Before Lenny has a chance to overreact and start freaking out internally that Calla wouldn’t love dating her – and why would she, since they are friends – Calla continues. “Anyone would love to date you cause you’re awesome. You just need to realize it.”

She blinks. Watches Calla noisily sip the remainders of her milkshake through the straw, feels her lips stretch in a slow, amused smile. “Same,” she says.

“Please. I am fully aware of my awesomeness.”

“No, I meant – you’re awesome, too,” Lenny laughs. “Thanks for spoiling the moment we were about to have.”

“We’ll have plenty more,” Calla waves her off.

“Yeah,” Lenny says, slowly. “We will.” The words form in her mind, almost of their own accord. Just like the feeling she woke up with today and couldn’t quite place her finger on it. And didn’t really want to, in all honesty. She just let it wash over her and dictate her actions, she realizes. It didn’t feel weird, or confusing, or sudden. If anything, it felt right. And right now, she’s letting it speak for her, and that feels right, too.

“Do you--” the words get caught in her throat when hazel eyes meet hers, expectant. Because of how -- unguarded they are. How relaxed, and trusting, and soft. “Do you wanna maybe get coffee sometime?”

Calla tilts her head, just like Rem does when she doesn’t understand what Lenny’s trying to say. “Like what we’re doing right now?” She asks.

“No.” Lenny feels her smile grow in realization. “Not like what we’re doing right now. More like – like a date kind of thing. A proper date.”

She’s never seen Calla’s eyes widen this big before. “You’re… asking me out,” she says, slowly.

“I guess I am. No. I am.” She licks her lips before smiling. “What do you say?”

“I – this is… wow,” Calla manages, and Lenny nods. She feels like laughing. She feels like springing to her feet and sweeping Calla off hers and twirling her around until they collapse in a heap of giggles and limbs, and then--

Calla takes a deep breath. She doesn’t look as ecstatic as Lenny feels, and her excitement fades at seeing a concerned frown on her friend’s face. “You know, I’m gonna be honest with you, since it probably took a lot of courage for you to say this. I, um - I’ve thought about -- this,” she gestures between them, before sighing. “Not like – I don’t think I was pining after you or anything. I mean, I know I wasn’t. I was just… wondering, sometimes. But you were always…”

“Chasing dreams?” Lenny finishes when Calla trails off, and smiles when she nods. “I think I’m done with that.”

“You think? Well, have you thought this through?” Calla brushes her blonde curls away from her face, suddenly impatient. “Because I can’t be your fabricated reality. I can’t be – another fantasy. I won’t lose you over that when you realize that’s all it was and push me away. I don’t wanna – ugh,” she rolls her eyes, looking annoyed. “I like, really need you in my life, okay? And I don’t want to be a weird rebound after that bench girl.”

“You’re not,” Lenny says eagerly. “I told you – I didn’t even know her. And I know I’m always constructing these… mirages in my head, but this - this isn’t a fluke. This is real, okay? I’ve known you practically my entire life. I know you. I need you, and I… I want you. I think this is – it’s the most real thing I’ve felt in a long while.” She’s surprised by her own revelation. By how honest it feels, and raw, and vulnerable, and good.

“The realest.”

“What?”

“Shouldn’t it be the realest? I mean, for someone who makes their living writing…”

She feels the corners of her lips twitch in an amused smile. “You’re deflecting.”

“Maybe.” Calla blows out a sigh. “This is just – super sudden.”

“I know.” She swallows. “I’m not expecting an answer right now. Just – promise me you’ll think about it. And if you want to forget it ever happened and move past this, we can do that.” It’ll hurt and it’ll suck, but she’ll move on if that’s what Calla wants. Just like Calla said, she won’t lose her over this. She’d rather have her in any capacity she’ll allow than not have her at all.

“I don’t think I can forget,” Calla snorts. “This really ties in with a couple of very confusing dreams and that one time we got drunk…”

Lenny feels the heat rush to her cheeks. “We just cuddled,” she attempts to defend herself. God knows why because that one time is working in her favor yet she won’t let it.

“If any of my boyfriends or girlfriends cuddled me like that, maybe I wouldn’t be single right now,” Calla retorts. There’s the usual sparkling mirth back in her eyes, and Lenny allows relief to curse through her veins as she takes her smirking face in. Her beautiful face.

Calla is a beautiful name. It suits her.

She’s so focused on the thought she almost misses it when Calla glances at her watch. “Shit. There’s this dumb meeting I gotta get to,” she tells her. But, before Lenny has a chance to deflate with disappointment and embarrassment, her gaze turns determined. “Tonight. Pick me up at eight.” She springs to her feet and grins at her as she shoulders her bag. It’s one of her infamous flirtatious grins, somehow both impish and innocent as she gazes at her through her lashes. She’s seen those – hell, she’s been on the receiving end of those more than a handful of times, and seriously, why’d it take her this long?

“Just like that?” She calls after her, feeling her own wide grin nearly splitting her face. Calla throws a glance over her shoulder, pausing her step.

‘Think we’ve waited long enough,” she tells her. “Don’t you?” With that, she turns to walk away, but Lenny calls after her one last time.

“Hey Calla?” She waits until she looks at her again, and tries to look as serious as possible. “I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

She’s rarely vulnerable, she knows that. That’s what makes those fleeting moments all the more precious. “I know.”

Lenny leans back in her chair as she watches her walk away, and takes a deep breath as nerves wash over her. She’s got a date to plan, and it’s gotta be the best damn date both of them have ever been on. Tonight, she thinks wildly. Alright. Tonight.

//

Somewhere at one of the hundreds of faceless gas stations, Reena climbs back in the car and turns up the volume, grinning, as the familiar song comes on the radio.

patreon | ko-fi

[peonybane]

Agape and Pragma: Chapter 3

Pairings: OT7 (BTS) x Reader

Word Count: 4.5 k

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Sci-Fi, Crack (?), Smut (eventually)

Chapter Specific Notes: Fluff, Crack (?), Suggestive, a little bit of Angst

Summary: Your entire world had be torn asunder by just one lab test. Time heals all wounds, but does it really? What will it take to feel whole again?

Hybrid Types: Peacock Jin, Serval Yoongi, Golden Retriever Hoseok, Gray Wolf Namjoon, Great Dane Taehyung, and French Lop Eared Rabbit Jungkook… with one more to come.

a/n: It’s Sunday somewhere. Anyways, this story is broken up into two different perspectives: Reader’s and Yoongi’s. I hope you all enjoy this one. One more boy to introduce and the real fun begins!

<— Previous (Chapter 2)

After your nightmare, things were… awkward. It happened all too soon. It wasn’t like you were hiding your issues— it just never really came up. So to have your issue exposed in that way, well, it made it hard to face your two new roommates. Jin didn’t really help with how he wasn’t quite sure how to act around you. If anything he tried too hard to take the attention away from you and onto himself. Which would honestly be alright… except that you would begin to feel second hand embarrassment. He always tried to make you laugh. Like when you all were talking at breakfast— you, him, and Hoseok— he’d tell stories about work from the previous night. It always got you and Hoseok howling with laughter. Every once in a while though, he’d tell a story about a child. Halfway through, he’d get self conscious and try to backtrack… which only made the awkwardness even worse.

Yoongi on the other hand went out of his way to make it seem like nothing happened. He still gave off this elusive aura that all wild cats had. It was in the smaller things that made you wonder if he was also being, well, awkward about the whole situation, but in his own way. On the days you were working at home, laptop balanced on your lap and editing your authors’ manuscripts on the couch in the living room, it wasn’t uncommon for Yoongi to leave for work then comeback several hours later, you seemingly not having moved from that spot on the couch, too in the zone to do anything else. On those days, Yoongi would bring you an extra water bottle from the kitchen or would loudly announce that he was hungry and wanted some suggestions from you on what he should eat, often pulling you out of the zone and realizing that you were indeed, starving. When you’d finally look up from your laptop screen, and your gaze fell upon Yoongi, you’d find that his posture was alert and almost… on guard at these times, as if he wasn’t sure how to broach a subject with you.

This state of utter awkwardness finally broke about a month into Jin and Yoongi staying at the house. Well, that wasn’t entirely correct, it changed to a different, much less painful awkwardness. 

You had just finished getting dressed into your cocktail dress, getting ready for the quarterly work dinner. Director Bang always insisted that once a quarter, as many editors and authors as possible should all go out to dinner, to mingle, to network, and perhaps discuss potential story ideas in a semi-casual environment. Since this dinner had more RSVPs that usual, Director Bang decided to make a party of it, booking out a party room at a fancy hotel. 

Giving yourself a once over in your mirror, actually quite happy with how you looked, you left your room, ready to deal with whatever was thrown your way. Well… almost.

You had just closed your bedroom door when you heard yelling. Panicking a bit, you rushed down the hall to where you heard the yelling coming from. Your steps were heavy, trying to jog in short heels. You reached one of the bathrooms. Mid stride, the door was thrown open to expose a very wet and very naked Jin. “Yah! What was taking you so lo—“

You yelped, jumping a bit. Both you and Jin froze, staring at each other. You tried desperately not to look at his body, but your gaze fell upon his shoulders, down his toned and slightly scarred arms, then the trail of iridescent blue and green hair starting at his bellybutton caught your eye. Before you could help yourself, your eyes followed that trail. 

Jin reacted a bit too slowly, trying to cover up his crotch with his hands. But the damage had already been done, the words already sputtering from your lips.

“You have a penis!”

“Yes, and I’m quite attached to it, you know. We’re in separable.”

The pun was completely lost on you, your face blushed as your brain tried desperately to reboot itself. No footsteps were heard until Yoongi (the damn cat) was already practically on top of your two, with towel in hand. “Stop prancing around naked, you peacock.”

The sexually frustrated part of your brain whispered, cock instead.

Jin shot him a deadly look as he stopped trying to hide the monstrosity between his legs, to grab the towel and wrapped it around himself. Your gaze shot up to the ceiling, feeling very, very embarrassed. After all, the thing hanging between his legs was just as big as he was. And just as pretty. “It’s not my fault, Tae used the last of the clean towels.”

Yoongi sniggered, gummy smile peaking through. Jin turned his attention back on you. He teased, “Yah! What did you think I had? A cloaca?”

If it was possible, you had turned even redder, making Jin smirk. “Ahhh. I see. I just happened to be lucky enough to be born with entirely human genitalia. Unlike some of our roommates.”

This earned him a shoulder smack from Yoongi. Jin yelped and the two started arguing. Not that you heard it. Instead, your attention was grabbed by how red Yoongi had flushed. You had never seen him look so embarrassed before. Nor will you probably again. It was rather adorable actually.

Once they had both calmed down, Yoongi cleared this throat, turning his attention to you. You mused that he wanted to the avoid the subject of his penis around his female roommate. “You look very nice. Going on date?”

Looking down at yourself, you had completely forgotten that you had dressed up. “Oh!”

You looked back up at them, shaking your head. “No. This is for work. My boss does these quarterly dinners for editors and authors to mingle. I can’t get out of this one though. He’ll hound his editors if he doesn’t see you at two consecutive dinners…. Guess where I’m at?”

This got a chuckle out of them. Jin asked, “Anyone joining you? Want one of us, namely me, to come with?”

You shook you head, after you’ve picked your jaw off the floor. “No. Believe me, the only person I’d bring with is Liam. I’ve tried taking Tae and Hobi. I’ve had to pull a few of the men chasers off of Tae and the son-in-law seekers off of Hobi. Those ladies would have a fucking field day with you.”

Jin pouted while Yoongi smirked. “Well, if you need a ride home, just call me up.”

“Thank you, Yoongi. I will.”

You waved goodbye to the both of them as you made your way downstairs. You shook your head, trying to get that image of Jin out of it. At the bottom of the stairs you heard a whistle. “Damn, hot mama, who’s the date?”

Hoseok was sipping on a glass of water, his hair mussied up from his post-phone-conference nap. You giggled as you made your way over to your purse. “Not you, too.”

He looked at you as if you had insulted his child. “What? Can I not ask why my roommate is looking hotter than usual?”

You gave him a hard look as you checked that you had everything. “It’s the quarterly dinner. Bang got us a party room at a hotel that requires a dress code.”

“Ahhh. Well, have fun. I most certainly will as I will NOT be evaluated like a prized bull being put up for auction. Geez ladies, leave me and your daughters alone.”

You pouted to cover up the giggle that was threatening to escape. “Don’t wait up. Bang is probably going to try to add another author to my list. Make sure that Tae doesn’t stay too late to grade with Jimin. You know how they get this time of year.”

“Will do. They’ll probably go out to drink or something after work. Have fun, hot mama. Knock ‘em dead.”

You waved farewell as you headed out the door. Now it was time to fight rush hour traffic on the way to the hotel. Great….

^~^~^~^~^ 

Just standing in the hotel lobby alone made you feel like you had underdressed, despite being explicitly told by your immediate manager, Sejin, that a cocktail dress was more than formal enough. Just how much did Director Bang invest in this little soiree? After asking the concierge where the BigHIT publishing company party was, you led yourself over the elevator, waiting for it to return to ground level.

Not a moment later, a rather tall man joined you. He towered over you, looking very sharp in his suit, a tad bit overdressed. A salt and pepper bushy tail caught your attention. You glanced up at his face to see a pair of sharp black ears sat on top of salt and pepper hair. His eyes were sharp and when he noticed you looking at him, he shot you a dimpled smile. 

Oh fuck, no. Not dimples. Hoseok tortured your enough with his own little ones. These ones were even more torturous, being far more prominent.

You shyly nodded, both of you acknowledging the other’s presence. When the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, he stepped to the side, “Ladies first.”

Nodding your thanks, you entered the elevator. He soon joined you. You pressed the button for the fifth floor. He did not press any. Instead, he inquired, “The BigHIT publishing party?”

“Oh. Yes. I’m an editor there. You?”

“Author.” He offered his hand. “I’m Namjoon.”

You took his hand, shaking it as you gave him your name. His hand was warm, reminded you of Hoseok and Taehyung a bit, their temperature higher than most people’s. He cleared his throat and he let go of your hand. “It’ll be nice to know a face other than Mr. Bang’s and my current editor.”

Giggling a little, you replied, “Well, I can guarantee that you’ll get to know quite a number of people. First party I take it?”

He hummed as he nodded. Just then, the elevator dinged, letting you know that you had arrived on your floor. Namjoon held his hand out for you to go first. “Ladies first.”

You smiled and nodded your thanks before stepping out; Namjoon was close on your heels. You both made your way down the winding hallway, getting closer to the light music and chatter. Namjoon opened the door for both of you and as you went to thank him, you heard Director Bang call out your name.

Both you and Namjoon turned to see Director Bang head your way. You met him half way. The older man was like a father to everyone working under him: very gentle but also firm, his word was final. Director Bang gave you a brief hug, muttering about how much he missed you and hardly ever saw you. Finally, he turned to Namjoon taking his hand and shaking it. “And it’s so good to see you again, Namjoon. Or should I say R.M. Kim?”

Namjoon blushed as your jaw dropped. R.M. Kim? The R.M. Kim? He was sort of a legend within the company itself, no one except his manager and Director Bang having ever met him, never mind actually seeing his face. No one has. He quickly became a best seller with just his debut novel alone called, Forever Rain. His second novel called, Reflection did just as well. Despite all of his success and popularity, he refused to be on camera or be interviewed. 

“It’s good to see you again, Director Bang.”

Director Bang’s smile grew. “I see you’ve already met our one and only science fiction editor. I was hoping to introduce her to you for your next book.”

You looked over at Namjoon with large eyes. “Oh? You’re looking into expanding into science fiction. Were you not enjoying slice of life?”

“I, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “actually wanted branch into something different. But also focused more on what I went to school for.”

Director Bang started leading you two towards one of the tables. Once there, the three of you sat down. Your full attention was on Namjoon now; he piqued your interest as most of your authors started out in science fiction, realized they weren’t cut out for it and switched over to something or quit writing all together. It was interesting coming across someone else who wanted to go the other way. “Mr. Kim—“

“Namjoon.”

You swallowed, continuing, “Namjoon… what did you study exactly?”

Director Bang waved over a waiter as he watched you two talk with a knowing gaze. “Medicine, actually. I specialized in Hybrid medicine. I take it you’ve read Reflection?”

How could you have not? You snuck read it after Liam had reread that book almost a half dozen times in the span of two months. Liam never told you why he loved it, almost he was embarrassed about it, but after reading it, you figured out why: it was written like a diary about a doctor traveling the world, trying to figuring out himself and what role he played in the world. It has caused a sharp rise in high schoolers pursuing Hybrid medicine degrees and people going out on missionary missions of sorts.

You simply nodded. “Yes. It was hard to read at times, it felt way too real.”

Namjoon sheepishly smiled. “Ha. Well, that’s because it was a diary. My diary to be specific.”

“Wait. You’re telling me you went through all of that?”

“Some of it is exaggerated.”

You leaned back in your chair. You both had ignored Director Bang, who proceeded to order you all drinks. When the waiter returned with the drinks, you absentmindedly took a sip. It was bitter and strong, but there was a certain sweetness to it. You grimaced. Director Bang just chuckled. “See you still can’t drink that well.”

Flushing slightly, you just made a face back at him.  He laughed before standing up, drink in hand. “Well, I got to go say hello to some other. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you two.”

Just as he was about to walk off, Director Bang turned back towards you two, calling out your name. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring any of your roommates. I was hoping to verbally spar with Liam again.”

You chuckled nervously. “Well, you know why I couldn’t bring the Trio.”

Director Bang nodded, rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“And, uh, well… Liam’s married and is living in India, now.”

He gawked at you. “Married? The forever bachelor?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yep. And she’s amazing.”

Blinking a moment, he cleared his throat. “Well, looks like I owe Mr. Sejin that bottle of scotch.”

You tilted your head curiously. At that he had enough shame to look guilty. “We may have had a bet about whether or not you’d end up with Liam.”

It was your turn to balk at him. Before you could stutter out a reply, Director Bang walked off, laughing to himself. As soon as your brain rebooted, you looked over at Namjoon. His ears were at full attention, his brow knit together as he muttered. You leaned in, hoping to hear him. “Liam, Liam, Liam, Liam….”

He started a bit as he looked up at you. “Arzt? Liam Arzt?”

You gasped a bit. It took you a moment, but you laughed, smiling at him. “Yes. How do you know the infamous Liam?”

Namjoon smiled back at you, dimples showing through. Those damn dimples. “Liam and I studied at school together. We went into the same program afterwards, too. For the most part, we were sent to different parts of the world. I thought I had heard something about Liam getting married.”

“That’s— that’s interesting that we never met before through Liam. I went to the same university. Though I studied Astronomy, not pre-medicine.”

Namjoon chuckled, smirking a bit as he took a drink. He muttered something but you didn’t hear it very well, sounded something like, of course he didn’t introduce us. “I’m sorry, Namjoon. Did you say something? I missed it.”

He swallowed, setting his cup down. “Nah, it was nothing important.”

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you as he explained his plans for his next book he was hoping to call Moon Child.

^~^~^~^~^ 

You and Namjoon has separated a few times to socialize with others. Mostly because some of your authors wanted to talk to you in person. Though, you’d often have to leave them behind as Namjoon was surrounded by a gaggle of husband chasers and son-in-law snatchers. You found yourself swooping in a few times, grabbing him under the guise of helping him with his next novel. 

While Namjoon would do his best to quickly give them an apology, these ladies would send you dirty looks, sizing you up. It’s not the like this was the first time they had looked at you like this. After all, you’d been the sourpuss constantly raining on their parade when it came to them trying to devour men whole. 

Liam could handle himself. While he wasn’t hideous by any means, he wasn’t drop dead gorgeous either. Which both Taehyung and Hoseok were. And unlike Taehyung and Hoseok, Liam was willing to get nasty and make sure that none of those woman would approach him again that manner (this usually took the form of him making some sort of remark regarding Sejin’s ass or inquiring whether or not they thought he’d be good in the sack). Your sweet boys on the other hand didn’t have it in them. After the failures with your two more outgoing roommates, you wisely chose never to introduce shy Jungkook to this pack of hyenas (figuratively, of course). 

As a thank you, each time Namjoon would bring you over a drink. Even though you were pacing yourself, you found yourself slowly getting drunk as the night progressed, having completely forgotten that you were your own ride. You were having too much fun talking to Namjoon as he spoke excitedly about his story, about life, about everything really. 

The night started winding down and it was soon only the two of you and a few stragglers. A waiter came over to you and asked you to leave the party room, the party having run well over the allotted booking time. Sheepishly, Namjoon escorted you out of the room and to the downstairs lobby where he led you over to a pair of plush seats. He left you alone for a couple of minutes, coming back with a water bottle for you. He sat down beside you as you took a sip.

“You staying anywhere nearby?”

You shook your head. “Nah. I’ll just have to call one of my roommates to come get me. But I’m having too much fun here with you.”

Namjoon smiled as you pouted. “As lovely as that would be, I think you need to go home.”

You pouted some more like a petulant child before finally pulling out your phone. You called Yoongi. A few rings later, he answered. “Finally. Taehyung has been bothering me to call you.”

You started giggling. You could hear Jungkook and Taehyung scrambling in the background to try to hear your conversation as much as possible. “Yoongs… pwease come get me. I ended up having soooooooo much fun with my new friend that I ended up dwinking too much.”

He sighed, but you could almost hear the smile behind it. “Fine. Hang tight, I’m bring Jungkook along so your car doesn’t stay over night.”

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

Right before the phone clicked off, you could hear Taehyung ask why couldn’t go. You giggled again as you pocketed your phone. Namjoon was smiling as he watched you. You blushed a little looking away. “Sounds like you got some great roommates.”

“Yeah… they’re awesome. Yoongi’s so sweet for volunteering to come get me. He’s such a grumpy cat, but really, he’s a sweetheart.”

If it was possible, Namjoon’s eyes softened even further. There was something else in his gaze that made you sober up a little. “It’s late. I don’t want to keep you up. I’ll be fine. You head home.”

Namjoon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, you see, I actually live here at this hotel. So really, it’s like you’re waiting in my home.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “You staying from out of town?”

“In a way, yes. But really it’s because I can’t seem to find a place I like. You know, I wrote most of those two books while I was traveling. In the past year, I’d been hopping around from different headquarters of W.H.H.O. (World Hybrid Health Organization). Finally, a few months ago, I resigned. Haven’t figured out where I wanted to end up quite yet.”

It was silent between the two of you for a short while. Well, except for the night concierge trying to stay awake by walking around the lobby. You broke the silence, clearing your throat. “Why don’t you stay with us?”

“What?”

“We have plenty of room. There’s plenty of space to write. There’s always something going on. I mean after all, you did mention that you like working in spaces that feel like they’re alive. Believe me, this house is ALWAYS alive. And there’s plenty land to explore since the house backs up to a greenbelt and forest. It’s perfect!”

The excited gleam in your eye startled him a bit. Just as he was about to open his mouth to reply, he was interrupted by a familiar, excited voice. “Shortstack, are you trying to add another roommate to the house?”

You couldn’t help the shameful look that colored your cheeks scarlet as you looked up at Jungkook and Yoongi. Jungkook was doing a rather fine job at looking at you like he was disappointed if it wasn’t for the fact that Yoongi stood behind him, smirking. Their usual roles somehow reversed. “But Koooookie.”

Jungkook laughed, making his way over to you. “Damn, Shortstack. It’s been a good while since you’ve been this drunk.”

You made a face at him as he helped you stand up. You stumbled a little, the quick change causing you to feel dizzy. You landed against Jungkook’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn’t help but nuzzle him— he just smelled so good and well, you were still a little drunk. Jungkook laughed. “You are so drunk.”

“No, I’m not. You’ve seen me hammered.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but concede. He loved it when you nuzzled him like this. His attention was stolen from you as Namjoon coughed. You both looked his way. Namjoon stood and held his hand out to shake. “Hi. You must be one of her roommates. I’m Namjoon.”

Jungkook took his hand, shaking it. “Jungkook. Thanks for taking care of our drunkard over here.”

They let go. “It was no problem. In fact, she saved my ass a few times back there.”

Jungkook laughed before looking down at you. “Well then, you little drunkard. How about we get you home and into bed?”

You nodded quickly. Jungkook placed his hand on the small of your back as he turned his attention towards Yoongi. “Who do you want to ride with? Me or Yoongi?”

Before you could reply, Yoongi said, “You take her. I wanna walk around the hotel a little before heading home.”

Jungkook hesitated, but shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself. Come on.”

Jungkook started leading out the hotel. You paused a moment. “You have my number. But really, consider it. We’d love to have you, Namjoon.”

He smiled at you, his dimples poking through. “Definitely, I’ll think on it.”

You returned his smile and allowed Jungkook to lead you out the car.

**^~^~^~^~^ **

As soon as she and Jungkook were out of sight, Yoongi said, “Long time no see.”

Namjoon laughed. “No kidding. Who would’ve thought we’d run into each other like this.”

The both of them gave each other a hard look before Yoongi broke into a gummy smile, which Namjoon couldn’t help but return. Namjoon pulled Yoongi in for a bro hug. Namjoon laughed out, “It’s so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you again too.” 

They pulled away from each other. Namjoon retook his seat and Yoongi took his roommate’s. “Tell me, what you been up to, kid?”

“Work, traveling, writing. The usual.”

“How long are you the country for this time?”

The smile on Namjoon’s face fell. “Permanently.”

Yoongi’s brow knit together. “Did… did something happen?”

“Yeah….But I can’t— I don’t want to remember.”

Namjoon looked at him with pleading eyes— and there was something else there that Yoongi had never seen before. Yoongi also knew him well enough from college that it wasn’t wise to press; he’d share when he was ready. Otherwise he’d just shutdown and it would get worse.“Fair enough.”

There was a pregnant pause. “You going to take her up on her offer?”

“I— I don’t know.”

Yoongi eyed him suspiciously. “Is it the fact that you smelt five male Hybrids on her?”

Namjoon stiffened. He continued. “You know there’s nothing to worry about. None of us are involved with her.”

“Bullshit. I smelt pheromones on her. Her’s and a few others’. And don’t tell me you don’t smell them. There’s no way you could’ve missed it coming from Jungkook just a moment ago.”

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, sighing a little. “I forgot that you’re nose was the strongest. I’ll lay it out straight then for you. There is nothing going on. Just because we’re part animal doesn’t mean that we aren’t human first and foremost. We respect her and her boundaries. No matter our feelings.”

“Then what about her’s? I know female pheromones when I smell it.”

Yoongi let out a defeated laugh, leaning back in his chair. “How do I put this delicately…. Remember how Jin would run around the apartment naked?”

Namjoon nodded. “Well, try imagine being a female with something like Jin surprising you. Never mind that, from my understanding, you’ve not been intimate with anyone for something like three years. I don’t think even a Tibetan monk could resist Jin’s naked charms.”

This time, Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh. Yoongi knew he struck something within him. “Fair enough, fair enough.” 

Once Namjoon had calmed down, Yoongi coolly said, “Seriously though. You’re more than welcome to move in. I know she’d love it.”

“Would she— or any of you for that matter— want someone who’s so broken?”

Yoongi dryly laughed. “You’d fit right in. More than a few of us are broken. What’s one more?”

Namjoon clenched his jaw before turning his gaze back on Yoongi. “Could I sleep on it?”

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

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[uhhhhyandere]

Light from Orphic proposing to Reader be like: "Maybe we should get married" -S

my first request??? is this real life???????? thanks sO much for requesting and for making my cry while writing this heee heee

current number in my inbox: 9! but it’s always open so you want to tell me how it is, or tell me how much you love baby back ribs, ill love you forever uwu enjoy my husbando 

this is a continuation of my completed fic Orphic found here

word count: 4.7k 

There were countless parts of your life you missed: your freedom, your family, your job, your life, but you were in no position to desire them back. What your life was now, whatever it was, it was your fault. There was no god of misfortune to blame, not even the one you lived with. Naomi must have turned in her grave; all the evidence she laid in front of you on a silver platter you trashed. L right along with her, and Mogi too. Oliver branch after olive branch you burned, and you had the audacity to feel sorry for yourself?

Yes, yes you did. Every morning when he’d gently kiss you awake and every night when he fucked you ruthlessly into the mattress. After Light’s suggestion to put in your two weeks, you had a head full of useless calculus. Your new hobby was helping struggling high school and college students with everything from limits to surface integrals. Something to focus your head away from the heaviness of your environment. What else were you to do? Turn into a maid to cook and clean all day? You’d rather die. 

Of course, that was dramatic. Your fear of death is what kept you in the game for this long, and what keeps you in this God-forsaken house at all hours of the day. To even try to escape, after the first time, you’d never even think of it again. You can’t go back there. Never. 

You sighed. No longer having a work suitcase to hide your journal in, you’ve resorted to hiding it under the bed: not very clever, but what reason does Light have to be looking under the bed? You don’t partake in hide-and-seek very often, so it’s safe enough to hide a journal. Lifting yourself from the ground, you used the bookmark to flip to the next empty page.

User MathSuKS69 finally figured out how to find the volume of a solid. I hope he or she does well on their test. I wish I valued my education more in school, but the ongoing game with Light during my whole critical part of learning was somewhat distracting. I’m not some natural genius like him. I have to study hard, but when he does shit like giving me the notebook thing out of the blue, it makes my life that much more difficult. 

He’s planning something. The twink has been getting that glint in his eye. I know it too well. ‘Maybe we should…” blah, blah, blah. What more can I succumb to anymore? I had to bring him to my brother’s funeral and introduce him to my family as my significant other. There’s nothing that can sit worse in my stomach than that. 

It’s something they wear as pride. Their daughter is dating the dashing detective everyone raves about. Light has, over the past few months, become famous for being the genius, hot detective. Like the damn Sherlock Holmes of Japan, cases come in and get solved. People come into the station not only with these impossible-seeming cases but to just see him. No one asks anymore about the Kira case to him, and, if they do, he’ll politically dodge the question. It’s terrifying. Not as scary as the cemented Kira culture in the world, accepted and revered worldwide, mind the radical anti-Kira groups spread, and those who do not know the hot detective that defined justice in more than just Japan is more than what he appears to be.

Justice. What even is justice anymore? L dying, was that justice? Kiyomi burning to death? His sister in a wheelchair? That’s supposed to be for the greater good? Just so me and him can live in peace. Be happy. It’s for us. Everything I do is and always will be for us. 

If life after death is anything like “The 5 People You Meet in Heaven,” except it’s hell, I’m getting my ass kicked. 

Hand hurting from writing, you shook it, then capped the pen and placed the journal under the bed once again. Your hands wiped at the newfound dust on your pajamas. It was still early. Light must have just left no more than fifteen minutes ago. At least he didn’t wake you up this time. Yawning, relaxed at the notion of being alone, you stretched your arms into the air, rustling your hair as you made your way downstairs. 

Voices, the banging of pots and pans, and the smell of breakfast filled your senses. Rushing downstairs, you were greeted with both your family and Light’s in your living room, chatting and laughing together like howdy-doo-dee. Not noticing you yet, you looked to the kitchen, where Light smiled lightly above the stove, clad in a button-down and trousers and a rag over his shoulder. 

“Oh, Y/N!” Light’s mom called, waving you over. You grinned, eyebrows raised realizing you were, in fact, not wearing pants and in front of your mom, sister, Light’s mom, and his sister. “Good morning! Did my son not tell you about today? Oh, that’s so Light!” You cleared your throat, watching Light set down his spatula and turn the heat down on the stove before making wide strides towards you.

“It must have slipped my mind. I hope you don’t mind. I invited everyone over for brunch.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side and capturing your lips in a swift, heavy kiss, all for show. Your family swooned at the perceived sweetness of it all. His musk, strong and sweet, engulfed you as an arm remained around you. “I feel like our families don’t know each other nearly as much as they should for how long we’ve been together.”

  “And he’s such a good cook, Y/N!” Rose exclaimed. “If he had a brother, by Kira’s name, I’d marry him. This is amazing.” His hand squeezed your shoulder at the mention of himself from her lips. “And I can’t believe we haven’t been over here yet! What have you been hiding?” Everything. You smiled. 

“Oh, well, we just walk around naked most of the time. Nothing good to see.” Rose giggled, accompanied by the laughter of the other women. Nervously, you joined. “I’m going to put some pants on and look presentable. Be right back.” You tore yourself from his grasp and didn’t hurry to change into regular clothes and fix your hair. 

Why the fuck was he not at work? What was he planning with all this? Just when you thought things would reduce back to a norm, he has to think of something to keep you on your toes. Light can never just settle. He wants more. He always wants more, and he doesn’t stop until he gets it. This isn’t something Light just does. Something lies behind the scenes. What he wants, however, you don’t know anymore. You, you thought ruefully, but he has me. He certainly didn’t care about your family. Oliver, rest his soul, proves that point enough.

“Hey, sweetheart, you okay up there?” Sweetheart. Footsteps followed the call until they entered the bedroom. “You’re taking an awfully long time to change.” He shut the door behind him, and instantly his countenance slunk from the big and bright innocence to the sly and cunning. “Don’t want to keep everyone waiting,” he spoke, voice audibly lower than the statement before.

“What’s up your sleeve?” 

“Why do you think everything I do has an ulterior motive?” He took a step towards you.

“Because they do. All the time.” Light shrugged, covering the distance left over in between the two of you. “What are you planning?” He raised a slender hand. Long, dainty fingers touched your cheek, thumb playing with the skin under your chin. If you weren’t you, you’d see only the passion glistening in his eyes, like seeing a long lost love for the first time, but you always knew better. Underneath lied the most twisted sense of love. Though he’s never said the word, it’s black and corrupted in his mind, just like his sense of justice. 

“Don’t be so defensive, baby. I’m just taking the first steps forward in our relationship. I know you wouldn’t take the initiative, so I decided to do the honors for us.” Light took his hand back, trailing it down your arm and linking your fingers together. He’s awfully touchy today… something’s very, very wrong. He guided you back to the sweet-smelling kitchen. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting.” He laughed. 

“We know what you two were doing anyway!” Sayu laughed, fork hitting the plate as she sat in the wheelchair next to the couch. The kidnapping… the poor girl. Light told you about it, another one of the sacrifices he had to make for the new world, just like his dad was. What he has suffered to be here. “You guys have to stop being adorable for a second, please! You have company.” Light laughed with his ever-loving smile, hand going over his gut. You forced yourself to smile too. 

“Also, don’t eat too much everyone. I reserved us a table at la Mare Dorée for dinner.” The group harmoniously gasped together in delight as he wrapped an arm around your waist and squeezed. This wasn’t right. The women looked to each other, smiling in glee at the aspect. 

“Are you joking?” Rose asked, at the edge of the couch. “It takes months—years—to get a table there. There aren’t many French places like it around. Light how did you—you’re amazing. And it’s so expensive!” 

“I know you can do amazing things,” Sayu added, “but this is something extraordinary. Thank you, big bro.” He waved her off. No one in their elation took note of your ever worrying form. Only Light, who remained steadfast in his mask by your side, must have, but he only offered you a glance. 

“I know. I called, just to see if I can squeeze in somewhere. When I gave them my name, they offered me a table for tonight! It was amazing. I didn’t think I was that known.” You, in fact, do. He was building up his local fame for the day he came out as Kira, the God of the New World, a day you dreaded with every fiber of your being. Something of your nightmares you don’t want to think about, but you both knew he couldn’t yet. Not with the resistances still active across the globe. He needed to be patient, and, after waiting so long with L and Near, he could survive to wait a little more. 

“Oh, shut up!” His mom chided. “You’re practically a superstar. I Googled you, and you had trending hashtags and blogs dedicated to you and people asking how to get a meeting with you, and so much more! It was a little alarming, if I’m being honest.” Sayu nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, the people I work with always ask me about you. They’re amazed that I’m your sister. They always tell me how lucky I am.” You fist tightened at your side. Lucky, because it was his actions that got you taken and in that wheelchair? She doesn’t even know. A wrench of pity and guilt was thrown into your stomach. Light silenced any visual discomfort you might have been showing with a pinch at your hip. “But I think Y/N is the luckiest of all of us.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, he can cook, Y/N! Be grateful for once in your life.” You tilted your head and playfully glared at her. 

“Oh, I’m always grateful. Don’t you worry about that.”

  “I’ll clean up in here. Here,” Light let you go and reached for a plate on the counter, “I made your favorite. I’ll clean up in here and join you with them when I’m done.” He placed a poisoned kiss on your forehead, then turned and let loose the hot water in the sink. You ignored the knowing gazes of the other women as you sat on the very end of the corner sofa, placing the plate on the arm next to you. 

“I heard you’re not working at the firm anymore, Y/N,” your mother said. You licked your lips. 

“Yeah, that’s the truth. I… didn’t like how I was being treated, but I didn’t think of putting in my two weeks in, but Light told me I should if I’m not happy, so, here we are,” you explained. Light didn’t even glance over from the sink. 

“Are you job hunting now?” Mrs.—Ms. Yagami, now, you reckon, asked. You shook your head. 

“Not yet. I’m—.”

“Oh, I see,” your sister interrupted, but you don’t see, so you furrowed your brows and wordlessly asked her to explain. She shook her head. “Later,” she mouthed. 

“Well, that’s okay. We all know Light is bringing home the big bucks. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” 

“Mom, please.” She laughed.

“It’s okay to admit it, hun! Anyway, Y/N, take your time. I’m sure Light doesn’t mind coming home to a clean house and dinner on the table.” You swallowed the bite of your breakfast, which did, in fact, taste delicious, while ignoring his mom’s statement. Light laughed from the kitchen. 

“If that’s the case, I’ll be eating scrambled eggs and cereal every day.” The running water shut off. Light took off the rag on his shoulder, folding it neatly over the edge. You kept your eyes out the window while his weight shifted down right next to you, leaving no room between you, and a heavy arm draped around your shoulders. This is so very wrong. “I just want to be able to provide, that’s all, so she won’t have to work. I just want Y/N to be happy.” You continued to eat silently.

The whole day was spent lounging around, talking and laughing in the circle you naturally formed in the living room. The TV played the news in the background. It was no longer Kira-focused, as it used to be, now that it’s become the norm. Now, they dedicate a whole program to it, much like a weather segment, there’s a Kira segment. Not to mention the multiple Kira shows, documentaries, and other related programs. Though, each one reminds you of Takada, so you refuse to let them be on. 

It was too comfortable. You leaned into him, fucking Light Yagami, like he was a precious boyfriend, with your head against his shoulder. The force of his arm around you didn’t help either, but it wasn’t disgusting. As the group laughed at another memory, you felt the warmth from his body. This shouldn’t be comfortable. This shouldn’t be making me relax. You should be begging your family to get you out of there, tell them this is Kira, but what good would that do? You even left the damn country, look where you ended up anyway? Back here. There was no escape anymore. Just be grateful for once in your life. 

At 16:30, you dispersed. The families have gone home to get ready for this evening. You remained outside with Rose after Light returned inside. 

“What did you mean earlier? When you said, ‘you see.’” She grinned, shaking her head. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I swear, sometimes you’re so thick.” Sucking in a breath between her teeth, she threw her hands in the air. “I can’t tell you! If I’m right, I’ll ruin it! Just… think about it all.” A car honked. “Okay! I’m coming! Bye, love. See you soon!” She hurried to the car, leaving you with more questions than answers. Dread filled your heart at the door behind you, knowing you were back alone with the beast now that beauty didn’t need to be out anymore with them gone. 

He was in your shared bedroom, fingering through his side of the walk-in closet. He didn’t pay you any mind when you entered and began to rummage through your clothes. 

“Maybe you should wear that black dress.” You pursed your lips. The black dress he bought for you when he decided he hated your wardrobe and went on an all-expense-paid trip to the mall. Once finding the fabric, you ran your fingers down it hesitantly. “You still have those nude heels.” It was a statement. 

“Yeah, in the very back corner. Glad you want me to sprain my ankle tonight,” you muttered. You stepped towards the back of the closet, but his arms entrapped you before you can make it, pressing your body flush against his. He leaned down to you. 

“I want you to look like you deserve to be my woman tonight.” His breath brushed against your face gently, giving you seconds to feel it send goosebumps down your spine until he closed the distance and nearly forced you backward with the strength of the kiss. There was no foreplay, only pure lust pushing your lips open and thrusting the wet, hungry tongue into your maw, suffocating and stifling. It’s always too much, too heavy. You’re always too weak to handle his… affection. Even as he continues, overpowering you at every crevice and intricacy of your mouth, your mind buzzed with only him. His smell, his toxicity, his hands, his taste, it’s too much. Too much, and you’ll be addicted.  “So, get ready,” he whispered when he broke apart, smirking in bliss at your panting form. 

“Yeah, okay.”

It was unlike any other restaurant or hotel you’ve ever seen. Pulling up in yours and Light’s Lexus, you awed at the sight of it. It was clearly five-star, celebrities-only type of place. Rolling up the stone road, pillars on either side wrapped in lights and rose bushes in between them encasing the hemisphere way, a gorgeous lit up fountain in the middle surrounded by stone benches and gardens. Limos dropped off countless well-dressed men and women, wearing various designer gowns, suits, and dresses. Light pulled up to the front, handing the keys to the valet and looking to you.

You’d be blind to say he didn’t look devilishly handsome. The suit, black jacket with a white undershirt and black tie and well-fitting pants all hugged his lean body. You cursed the tailor who made it. Feeling the heat on your face after the inspection, you kept your eyes low. He chuckled, wrapping a hand around your thigh. He exited the car, walking around the front with a hand fixing his jacket buttons and opening the passenger door. A hand reached into the car. Soft to the touch, you placed your palm on top and he pulled you to a stand. “Are they here yet?” 

“We’ll check inside first.” Watching the silver car down the way, you felt him link his arm with you. Fuck, he smells so fucking nice—fuck! He led you into through the large double doors being held open by a man and woman in suits. Your jaw dropped. The band in the corner’s music drifted through the huge open area, windows showcasing the view of the city surrounded the perimeter. A deck outside laced with vines had more seating. Running water ran into the pond of the other corner, lights illuminating the rocks around it. The biggest golden chandelier you’ve ever seen hung in the middle. There was another layer above, wrapping around the room with ivory bars. A long table right in the dead center of that second floor hosted three women in chairs and one in a wheelchair. You would be able to see the table from anywhere in the restaurant. A lush, red carpet led down the stairs into the main area. 

Light chuckled next to you. “Look.” He nudged your attention to the corner near the waterfall. “Isn’t that ironic? Don’t you recognize him from TV? Hideki Ryuga.” L’s pseudonym. It curled your stomach into a twist as the actor laughed with a beautiful woman next to him. “Maybe we should introduce ourselves.”

  “I’m too hungry,” you whispered back. 

“Hmph, it’s fine. Let’s go greet the rest of the party then.” Your eyes focused on the white marble wall with golden lining as he led you to the table. The four women straightened up, waving in excitement at the sight of you two. 

“Y/N, honey, you look beautiful!” Your mom immediately praised, rising to her feet to greet you in a hug. You sister followed, squeezing tightly. 

“Glad you don’t have to borrow my clothes for parties anymore,” Light’s curious eyes glanced over at the mention, lips quirking. She smiled again, then sat down. You leaned down to embrace Sayu, then Light’s mother. 

“You’re a gorgeous woman, Y/N.” You thanked her politely. Light was already waiting at the other end of the table, pulling out the seat at the head and waiting. Swallowing down your newfound bad feeling at his gaze, you sat down, allowing him to push in the chair and take the seat next to you, closest to the bars overlooking the entire restaurant. “Son, this is amazing. Words can’t thank you enough.”

“No, it’s no problem. Anything for my family.” You noted that he looked at both his own and yours. “Now, let’s finally eat.” 

You’re pretty sure the soup costed more than you’re worth. Gauging these prices, your eyes were wide as they exponentially increased with each protein. I should stick to the salad, but even that is more than you’d pay for anything. You couldn’t focus on the menu, eyes continuing to glance as Light as he crossed his legs and scrutinized the menu in front of it. Something terrible is going to happen. 

You decided on the most appetizing thing in your mind that was at least lower than most other foods on the menu, and a glass of Chardonnay. You needed to drink right about now. The waitress taking all the menus, you rested your hands on the table. A mistake, you mused, as Light took the opportunity to place his own on top. It was not missed by your sister, who winked at you from across the table. 

“So Light,” your sister asked, tone indicating anything about to come out of her mouth was not good, “mind my nosiness, but you and my sister have a rough history. What exactly made you go after her even though she hated you?” You were going to hear about that later, that’s for sure, based solely on the flicker in his eyes. 

“Yeah, Y/N was a tough nut to crack, but she never really hated me.” He ignored your eyes. “You remember how she would always second-guess herself, never believing in herself, right? Well, she only portrayed her hatred for me, because she hated herself. She didn’t think she was good enough for me, which is utterly ridiculous. I saw right through it, and, after years of work, broke through her wall. The rest is history.” Your teeth gnawed at the inside of your cheek. Bastard! “Isn’t that right, darling?” He was daring you to try something.

  “Well, you didn’t have to expose me like that, babe.”

  “So, when did you know you loved him?” It was your mother. You looked around for your wine. “I know you better than anyone, my daughter. I’ve never seen you so happy.” One hand of his held yours, the other perched itself to hold his chin. Oliver flashed in your mind. I know who Kira is, and I’m in love with him. Yeah, tell that story. 

“I didn’t want to,” you muttered. “I… thought I was fine on my own, thought I didn’t need anyone. I didn’t think anyone could find me attractive, so I gave up on the aspect of true love.” You paused, “Then Light came into my life. Annoyed the hell out of me the whole time, but then I moved back to the States, and I realized…” you exhaled, “I realized what my life was without him. It was… unbearable.” Rose gasped. 

“You came back because you love him!” Light’s hand tightened. 

“Yes, you caught me.” You’re pretty sure you were going to vomit. The waitress returned with your drinks; you rushed to sip down yours to get the lies off your tongue. 

“That’s so sweet. You sure have a way of charming people, Light,” Sayu laughed. He shrugged.

“I got lucky,” and he looked at you like you were every star in the sky and smiled. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed the skin on top, tender and loving. “There is nothing else I wish I lived for. When dad died, I—I was so broken up. I thought it should have been me, but I know he would have gotten angry at that. He wanted me to live on and be happy, and I think this is it.” A hand squeezed your heart. 

“Your father loved you dearly, Light. You know he’s here with us now.” Oh, I dearly hope so. Light nodded, making a whole show out of it. His mother pat his sister on the back. “Here, let’s make a toast to your father. May he rest in peace.” You rose your wine glass, sipping with the rest of them, never forgetting the weight of Light’s hand on yours.

When the entrees were served, you didn’t know they were entrees, as they took up 5% of the plate. God, one of these restaurants.  So, unsurprisingly, it didn’t take very long for everyone to finish, hungrier than they were when they got here, but they were too polite to ask to get dessert, as it was enough out of Light’s wallet, who offered to pay for everything. 

As the group wordlessly decided they were ready to go, Light rose to his feet, capturing everyone’s attention as he fixed the button on his suit jacket. You looked up at him as he stepped away from the table and maneuvered your chair, with you in it, to face the balcony with everyone below. As he bent over, his lips brushed against your ear. 

“I was thinking… maybe we should get married.” 

The weight of the whole world fell on you, but you were stuck between the chair on him as he now stood above you. You gripped the sides of the chair as hard as you could. No, please no. “I’m sorry to make you all wait a little longer but,” he paused, and you wondered if he hated being on his one knee in front of you, “I do have something to ask you.” This was all happening too fast. 

“Y/N, I—we’ve known each other for years. You saved me, and all this time, I knew it was you. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. None of us would. There is nothing I would change about anything. About you. You’re…perfect for me. Through everything, high school, college, we may have had our rough patches, but we always persevered, and, when you left, I was horrified you would never come back. I—I gave up hope you were coming back, and I thought, if you ever did return, Kira would surely kill me before it, but then you came back. I thought to myself, ‘it’s fate.’ I must have done something right for you to come back to me.

“I love you, Y/N.” Light dug into his pants pocket. The whole restaurant was drowned in silence, and you realized they were all watching you. Your eyes landed on Hideki Ryuga. L is watching. From his pocket, he lifted the small case, popping it open to reveal the sparkling rock. “Please, do me the honors of being my wife.” No, this can’t be real. This is a dream. He had you cornered. Your family, everyone was watching. The side of his mouth away from your family rose in a sneer. He knew. Glinting in his eyes was what you knew so well: possession, lust, and justice. Kira’s sharp eyes were gazing at you from the ground. You didn’t have a choice. 

“Yes, of course. I love you, too, Light.” He broke out into a smile, rising up to meet you in a biting kiss, slipping the ring onto your finger. The whole place erupted in applause. Light pulled you to a stand and made you face the whole restaurant as they continued to clap. An arm wrapped around you and clasped tightly at your hip. 

“Don’t you see, Y/N? You’re mine. Now, every single part of your being will belong to me. Just as it always has been.” His voice was low in your ear. His hands snuck upwards to slide beneath your hair and trap you in another kiss. He parted with a leer. “I love you,” he laughed.

[chapter-61]

are you kitten me?

CARRY ON COUNTDOWN DAY 18: Crack!

AO3, POST-CARRY ON

“What the fuck?”

There’s a cat in our house. It sits on the counter and stares at me. It’s black all over except for its feet. Do cats have feet? Paws. Its paws are white.

We don’t have a cat.

I have no idea how it could’ve come in. I’m pretty sure all the windows were closed, and we don’t have a dog door. Or a cat door.

Baz has already left for work, so he must’ve missed it.

“Uhm, hi?” I say to the cat. It meows back, almost sarcastically. Cats can’t understand sarcasm, can they?

Instead of grabbing breakfast, I get my phone and send Baz a text. I hear a ping from the kitchen table that sounds a lot like Baz’ text tone. The cat is still looking at me.

I turn towards the table and yes, there’s Baz’ phone. Strange. He’s never forgotten it before.

Wait. I look back at the cat suspiciously. “Did you do anything to Baz?”

If I didn’t know better, I would say the cat just rolled its eyes. But that’s not possible. I think.

It meows again. Guess that means “no” or “I have no idea what you’re saying”.

Baz’ll be fine, he doesn’t need his phone for anything except to text me. And occasionally Penny.

My stomach reminds me it’s breakfast time, so I grab a bowl of cornflakes and sit down at the table. The cat jumps off the counter and saunters over.

“I’m not giving you anything,” I tell it.

The cat doesn’t seem to hear and it jumps on the table until it’s in front of me.

“Hey!”

At least it’s not trying to drink my milk. Speaking of drink, Baz’ tea mug is still there, next to his phone. I frown at it. Normally, Baz always puts his stuff away, he’s proper like that. He must’ve forgotten a lot of things this morning.

Hey, it’s free tea.

The cat watches me grab the mug and starts to growl. I didn’t know cats could growl so menacingly.

“Calm down,” I scold it. I should probably go find a box to put it in and drive to a shelter nearby. After breakfast.

I lift the mug to my mouth but before I can take a sip, the cat is in front of me and slaps his paw against the mug.

“Bloody hell!” I jump up as tea pours over my pajamas. “Asshole!”

The cat doesn’t seem very affected. It might even be smiling. What a bastard. Baz would love it.

Now I’m covered in cold tea and I barely got some food in. I sigh. Guess I’ll shower first.

The cat watches me go but luckily doesn’t follow me.

After a quick shower, I walk back to the kitchen. The cat has moved, it’s now on the couch. Not relaxed, though. It’s sitting stiffly upright, as if it’s uncomfortable.

“That’s what you get for breaking into someone’s house, mate.”

I grab a new mug from the cabinet because I still want tea, and put on the kettle. I can feel the cat staring at me but I ignore it.

Then I open the tea cabinet. Baz is a big fan, so we’ve got a whole collection. His newest find is a Chinese one, I can’t read the name, but it’s a cute blue box with paws on it. There’s one bag out already, Baz probably drank it this morning. Or most of it, at least, since he left some on the table.

I take one out of the cute box and put it on the counter. The kettle’s ready, so I pour water in my mug and soak the bag.

The cat has come wandering over, and it jumps back on the counter.

“I’m drinking tea and you can’t stop me,” I tell it. It’s staring at me with its big grey eyes. “I picked the same kind just to spite you.”

I shouldn’t have said that. As soon as I lift the mug, the cat launches itself at me. It collides with my chest and the combination of its speed and strength throws me to the ground.

“Fuck!”

The mug breaks as it meets the floor and it spills tea everywhere. Again.

I stay down, defeated.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask the bastard, who’s standing on my stomach. Of course, I don’t get an answer.

I rest my head on the floor and close my eyes. Whatever. I’ll deal with the cat from hell later.

After a while, I can feel the cat move, its paws moving around. At first I think it’s trying to give me a massage, but it’s just trying to find a comfortable spot on my body to lay down.

Now the cat’s laying on my stomach and I can’t get up. Great. I open my eyes slightly. “You want to cuddle, asshole? Bit too late for that.”

It blinks at me. Then, to my utter disbelief, the cat starts purring. Maybe it’s not so mean after all. I slowly lift a hand and move it over its body once. It doesn’t seem to mind. I keep petting it, and the cat keeps purring. It’s actually pretty nice.

I think I fell asleep, because the next moment my back hurts and the cat is not on my stomach anymore. I sit up and look around.

“Cat?” I ask.

I hear a meow from the kitchen table so I get up and walk over. The cat’s sitting on the table again, but it looks much less threatening now that we had our bonding moment.

“Hi.”

It meows back. Then it paws at my phone, as if it’s trying to tell me something. I pick it up but I don’t have any texts. I look at the cat, but it doesn’t do anything else.

“I should probably call Penny,” I tell it. The cat nods.

I dial Penny’s number.

“Simon?”

“Penny, hi. I have a small problem at home.”

“I’m working, can this wait?”

“Uhm.” I look at the cat. It exhales loudly, as if it’s trying to sigh. I chuckle, that’d be funny. A sighing cat. “Yeah, sure. When can you come?”

“In two hours, probably. Can’t Baz help?”

“He left his phone here.”

“Huh. Well, I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Thanks, Pen.”

I put my phone back on the table and glance at the cat. It looks grumpy again. Just in case, I’m not making more tea. “We have some time to kill,” I tell it. “Wanna watch some Love Island? Baz hates it, but maybe you’ll like it.”

The cat looks disgusted now.

“Either way, I’m gonna watch it. Join me, if you want.”

It did eventually join me, settling down on my stomach again. I didn’t mind. It was warm and soft and it felt nice to have company while Baz was away.

The doorbell rings and the cat jumps up.

“It’s just Penny,” I tell it, as I stand, stretch my arms and walk to the door.

Penny smiles when she sees me, but the frowns at something behind me.

“What?”

“Where did you get that?”

I close the door behind her and turn. She’s looking at the cat quizzically. In turn, the cat sits perfectly still on the floor, back straight and gaze serious.

“Be careful,” I tell her. “It’s a bastard. I have no idea how it got in, I need your help figuring out where to bring him-”

“Simon,” she interrupts me. “Where’s Baz?”

The cat meows, as if it wants to join the conversation.

“He’s at work, like always.”

“Are you sure? You said he forgot his phone so you can’t know where he is.”

“Well, where else would he be?”

The cat meows again. I roll my eyes at it. “Shut up.”

“Simon?”

I turn back to Penny. “Yeah?”

“That’s not a cat. It has a magical signature, I can feel it.”

“Oh great, a magical cat. Now we can’t even get rid of it.”

“I think...” Penny hesitates. “I think the cat is Baz.”

“What?!” I look at the cat. “Baz?”

It rolls its eyes at me and meows. Holy shit. I start laughing. “Aleister Crowley! Baz! You’re a cat!”

The cat, Baz, doesn’t look amused. I have to hold on to my stomach because I’m laughing so hard. “You’re a cat! This is amazing.”

Penny clears her throat and I wipe a few tears from my face. “Simon,” she says. “This is serious. I don’t know how to reverse it.”

“Oh. Uhm. Baz, do you have any idea?” I can’t help another chuckle. The bastard cat is Baz. Figures.

Baz glares at me and then walks towards the mess of the kitchen. I still haven’t cleaned it up, oops.

“What happened here?”

“I tried to drink tea but the cat—Baz—slammed the mug out of my hand. Twice!”

Baz meows and grabs the used tea bag on the floor with his teeth. He brings it over to Penny. She takes it and examines it. “You drank this?”

Baz nods. “Oh yeah,” I say. “His mug was left on the table, with half of it left.”

“You think the tea was cursed?” Penny asks. Baz nods again.

“That’s why you were being an asshole! You didn’t want me to turn into a cat too!”

He rolls his eyes again. I’m thinking of letting him stay like this. “You’re very cute as a cat. And you don’t insult me every five minutes.”

“It’s a pretty simple curse, I think. A simple reverse spell should do it,” Penny says after a moment.

“Cool. Can you do it?”

“Already? I thought you liked him as a cat,” Penny jokes.

“Wait.” I walk over to Baz and pick him up. He protests with a little meow but doesn’t struggle as I pull him to my chest. “Just one small cat hug.”

“He really is cute.”

“I know right.” I smile down at him. He pushes his little head into my chest. Aww. I scratch him behind his ears and he starts purring again.

Penny begins to laugh. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to turn Baz into a cat. It’s not like he became a vicious beast.”

“Maybe it’s some kind of B-list Disney villain counterpart of Cruella De Vil, wanting to create an army of cats.”

“Cruella De Vil didn’t want an army of dogs, Simon.”

“You damn well know what I meant.”

Penny’s eyes suddenly light up. “I know a good spell!”

“Well?”

“In true Disney fashion,” she says, lifting her wand. “True love’s kiss!”

The magic hits Baz but nothing seems to happen. Baz looks unimpressed in my arms, still a cat. “Uhm, Penny? I don’t think that worked.”

“Of course not, dimwit. You need to kiss him first.” She looks proud of herself.

“I’m not kissing a cat!”

Baz meows as if he’s offended and I glare at him. He might be cute but I’d prefer not to be accused of animal abuse.

“You don’t have to French him, Si. Just give him a kiss on his little head. Lots of people do that.”

“Fine,” I huff. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I raise Baz up a little and I look him in the eyes. He nods back encouragingly. Here goes nothing.

I touch my lips to his head, avoiding his small ears, and then Baz starts lighting up. It’s so bright I have to close my eyes.

“It’s working!” I hear Penny say.

Next, there’s suddenly a heavy weight in my arms and I fall forward, landing on Baz.

“Ouch,” he says from beneath me.

“Baz!” I can’t help but shout. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him close. “Thank Merlin.”

“Thank me,” Penny says smugly.

“Thank you, Bunce.” Baz pats my back. “I’m fine, Simon. Can you let me up? I want to stand on two feet again instead of four.”

I laugh as I stand and pull him up. “You were adorable as a cat.”

“I’m always adorable. In fact, I’m purr-fect.”

“You’re hiss-terical.”

“Paw-some.”

“I almost miss the Baz that didn’t talk.”

“No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I smile at him. He smiles back. He had only been gone for a few hours (not even really gone), but I missed that smile.

“Can I get a proper kiss now?” Baz asks, pulling me closer with his hands on my hips. I go willingly.

“I’m leaving,” Penny interrupts. “Try not to buy more curses.”

We’re not listening anymore.

***

When I wake up on Saturday, Simon is already up. What a pity. He’s not usually awake before me, but he must’ve had a rough night. I rub the sleep from my eyes and try to tame my hair. I should’ve brushed it before going to bed, but we were rather busy.

Strangely, I don’t hear anything when I walk to the kitchen. If Simon’s up, he’s usually in front of the television. I wander around the house looking for him, until I stop in front of the couch in the living room.

There’s a big orange cat sitting on it, looking at me sheepishly.

I sigh. “You fucking moron.”

[dumpsterd1va]

okay you know this video with the French guys and the kitten in the road? my heads been doing this thing lately where everything i see lately is andreil so uh... have this little fic based on that lmfao im so sorry

curiosity and the cat

Andrew Minyard had grown up learning to appreciate quiet spaces. The bleachers during 3rd period. The back shelves of the library. The park at 1 AM. He was never truly alone but it was enough to pretend that nothing else existed except him, the ground beneath his feet, and the sky above his head.

It wasn’t until he got his first car that he understood true solitude. Four walls, four wheels, two arms, two legs, a tank of gas that would take him anywhere, and endless stretches of road. He’d run the tank dry and then do it all over again. It didn’t matter if it was rush hour or the dead of night. Everyone else existed in their own metal cocoons, at a distance and irrelevant to him, and he existed in a space that was fully his. All his. If threads of promises unkept weren’t holding him back, Andrew sometimes thought he could go and never come back, living in his car and driving circles around the country until the inevitable.

He always came back though, to the makeshift home he and the only two people he permitted to call him family had made for themselves in Columbia, but when sleep refused him, he would drive for miles and miles on empty roads towards an empty head. The hour and destination didn’t matter, only the feeling of the road churning beneath his tires and the smooth leather of the steering wheel gliding against his palms.

For Andrew taking a long drive to nowhere was like getting a haircut or drinking a tall glass of water on a summer day, so it was no surprise that he found himself on a forested highway just after dawn, letting the frigid morning breeze tangle in his hair.

No, the surprise wasn’t the drive nor the time nor the place.

It was the kitten.

There was nothing notable about the beginning, but then again beginnings are never terribly interesting. It began with the neon glow of 4:36 stabbing his eyes through the dark, a low throb in the back of his head, a parched throat, sweat dripping down his back and pooling uncomfortably just above where his hips connected to the mattress. His sweaty clothes, his matted hair, and the damp sheets clung to him like old memories. He was shivering.

So he drove.

He drove and he kept driving, down abandoned freeways and up windy mountain roads. He stopped for a cigarette at the peak of one, leaning back on the hood of his car and watching the muted pinks of the waking sun struggle against the pitch of night.

The storm inside him stilled.

The drive back home wasn’t as lonely as the drive out, but by that time Andrew didn’t need the silence anymore. He zipped past cars, weaving in and out of the lanes, ignoring the belated honks and indignant faces reflected in his rear view mirror.

He was coming up behind a motorcycle now, but he didn’t bother to pass it. Passing a motorcycle always felt like issuing a challenge and it was one Andrew didn’t have the energy to follow up on.

Which was why he was on autopilot, windows rolled down, radio humming low, going at least 20 miles slower than normal when it happened.

The facts didn’t make themselves immediately apparent. A small lump illuminated by the haze of his headlights, a flash of orange, an impossibly tiny face. Andrew only had just enough time to process what he had seen when he pulled over to the shoulder with a jerk of the wheel that probably would’ve earned him another honk if there had been more people on the road.

He was already flinging his door open and jumping out before he could even think when he noticed someone running towards him. The motorcyclist ahead of him had parked too and was sprinting at impossible speeds towards and now past Andrew. He could hear the helmet rattling against their skull as they hurtled towards the tiny orange speck on the road.

Another car was speeding towards them, but the motorcyclist either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Slamming his door shut and running up the road, Andrew held his hand up in front of him, gesturing for the car to slow down before it killed them. Miraculously there was no honking, only a curious gaze at the strange scene unfolding on the highway at just past six in the morning.

The motorcyclist remained ignorant of Andrew saving their lives, crouching on the ground and scooping the kitten up, cooing sweet nothings.

“How’d you get here little one?” The voice that escaped the helmet was a warm tenor and just a bit hoarse. The motorcyclist was walking towards the shoulder now. “Ah, p’tit loulou, you couldn’t have gotten here on your own. Where are you from?”

For a brief moment, Andrew basked in that jittery butterflies in your stomach feeling of standing in the middle of a road before trailing behind the motorcyclist who was still making embarrassing noises at the cat.

As he got closer, Andrew actually heard something that echoed his own train of thought, “Who would fucking leave a kitten in the middle of the road?” The helmet was bowed down now, gloved hands scratching the kitten’s head. “Some asshole abandoned you… when you’re this tiny.” A defeated sigh. “I’d take you but Sir doesn’t take kindly to strange cats and I don’t wanna upset her, but I can’t just leave you here.”

“Stop whining and give me the damn cat.” The motorcyclist seemed to register his presence for the first time and that’s when Andrew realized he’d said that out loud.

“Really? You’ll take it?” The voice had brightened considerably and even through the tinted glass of the helmet, Andrew could see a smile.

Andrew shrugged and rubbed the kitten’s head right between the ears, its large eyes staring up at him as he did so. “Just another stray.”

“Thank you,” the motorcyclist said as the kitten transferred between their hands. “You take in stray cats often?”

“Not cats.”

Hands finally free, the motorcyclist ripped off the helmet and rested it against their side. “Oh, so dogs then?”

Andrew drank in the sweaty red hair that stuck up from the motorcyclist’s head like an explosion, the frigid blue eyes that were so clear they looked like glass, the elegant nose, the strong eyebrows, the thin lips, the freckled cheeks. All things that would have made a classic beauty, had it not been for a trail of thin scars and burn marks criss crossing through those striking features that revealed a life not easily lived. They took that face from classic to once in a lifetime.

“People.”

A quirked eyebrow. A relaxed smirk. “Is that so? I’m glad you have experience then.”

Andrew didn’t miss the sarcasm dripping from their voice like molasses. “Whatever I’m taking the cat.”

Hands raised in surrender. Eyes amused. “Hey, it—” A cursory glance. “Sorry, she’s all yours. You’re gonna want to get her checked out at the vet first though. Ringworm in kittens can be deadly. And super contagious.”

Andrew’s grip on the kitten must’ve tightened because she mewled with some discomfort. He loosened his hands and stroked her behind her ears.

“Hey,” the voice was softer now, velvet smooth. Blue eyes peered down at him through thick lashes. “I can help you make a drop in appointment. I just can’t risk possibly exposing my own cat to diseases. I’m probably already going to have to burn this whole outfit.” Taking in the worn jeans and the flaking leather jacket, Andrew didn’t think that’d be such a bad idea.

He said as much and earned himself an eye roll. “Sure, criticize the guy who’s trying to help you out.” Said guy rubbed a finger against the kitten’s face. “Be glad you’re so cute or I’d never go through all this trouble.”

Andrew had to agree.

Pulling an ancient phone out of his equally ancient pants pocket, Andrew’s second unexpected companion for the day pressed a few buttons before putting the phone to his ear. After a few rings he said, “Hi, I’d like to bring in a kitten I just found.” A beat of silence. “Not sure. Yeah.” His fingers idly stroked the kitten’s back. “Yes, I can be there in an hour. Tell the doctor it’s Neil Josten. Yep, thanks so much. Bye.”

Strapping his helmet back on, Neil said to Andrew, “Just follow me, I’ll take you to the clinic I take Sir to.”

They strode along the shoulder until they reached Andrew’s car. “Fine, but don’t pull any trick shit, I’m in a car remember?”

“From the way you were driving, I think you need to remind yourself first.”

Unlocking his car, Andrew sighed. Motorcyclists and their attitudes. “Hold this.” He handed over the kitten to Neil before yanking his sweatshirt off. He wrapped his hands in the hoodie before taking her back and swaddling her in it until only her face was showing.

“Oh, you’ll make a great cat mom.”

“Shut up.”

“Should I get you a baby on board sticker?”

“I will leave you and the disease carrier on the street to rot if you don’t quit it.”

An easy grin was hidden behind the helmet but Andrew managed to see it regardless. He chose to ignore it and instead clambered over the driver’s seat, setting the kitten on the ground on the passenger’s side. He slid the seat all the way up and found a few more discarded jackets for padding to prevent the kitten from sliding around. She was still gazing up at him with those huge eyes, but didn’t seem unhappy with the arrangement.

Giving her one last head scratch, he muttered. “If you even think about peeing or pooping or puking in here, I will toss you out the window.”

When he was satisfied, he turned back to Neil and said, “Lead the way.”

Neil’s expression was unreadable on the account of the helmet but the gentle tone of his voice was unmistakable when he murmured just loud enough for Andrew to hear, “I’m glad it was you.”

He walked off without another word and straddled his motorcycle, leaving Andrew to climb back into his car a little dazed.

Beginnings are boring. Monotone, colorless, unoriginal. But it only takes one change in routine, one chance encounter, to make a beginning move towards a different starting line. A new norm. It’s that shift between the old and the new when things really start to get interesting.

And on that particular morning, Andrew had not one but two surprises.

The kitten.

And Neil.