#have some other stuff to bring home for tuck later. also going to add a shirt i found at work that says

[loverboybitch]

some heart shaped firewood we found while cutting some fallen trees at my grandparents on the weekend <3.//.

[moxfirefly]

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

[felix21im]

"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Bourbon

“That’s gotta be moved over like two inches to the left.” You muttered to yourself. Your eraser ran across the sketches and removed the pencil lines that you had created earlier. Studying interior design was one of the best ways to secure you that internship you’ve been working so hard for.

“Yoo hoo!” A whistle was heard from beside you, your fellow colleague and best friend tapped you on the shoulder, pulling you out of your study-induced trance. “You’ve got another table to serve. They literally just sat down so make sure that you greet them.” You let out a sigh, laying your latest drawing to the side. On the way to the table you check your hair in a mirror before putting on a smile. You can see two middle aged men talking while looking at multiple files placed on the table. You walk toward them. "Good evening, is there anything I can get for the two of you?"

The larger man with the shorter hair began to speak for the both of them. “Two bourbons please.” He said simply.

“Will they be with ice?” You ask, beginning to write down their drinks order on your small notepad.

“Yeah I’ll have ice in mine please.” The one with longer hair requested with a polite point and a smirk. The other man simply shook his head at the question of ice. You smiled at the two of them as you turned around. A few minutes later you return with both of their drinks and put them in front of them, being careful not to spill anything over their work-stuff. They both thank you with a small nod before you go around to your other tables. A few hours pass and people come and go but these two men still sit at their table, talking, drinking and taking some notes. You went over to their table a few times that evening to refill their drinks or bring some small things to nibble on, but you couldn't find out what they were talking about. It seems that as soon as you went over to them they changed the subject. “A super secret mission.” You chuckled to yourself as you stood at the bar, packing your study materials away. You can’t clean a bar with books and paper all over it.

While cleaning you heard someone clear their throat and you looked up. In front of you stood one of the men, the one with longer hair. “Oh my, excuse me. Can I help you with anything?” The man chuckled lightly and looked at the mess in front of you. “My friend over there and I wanted to get another drink before paying. But it seems you are quite busy here.” You looked at the mess and then at him and you couldn’t stop yourself from checking him out. It seems he noticed it, but didn't say anything. “I’m sorry for that, it won’t happen again. I’ll deliver your drinks to your table right away!” The man nodded and went back to his friend, sitting directly opposite them but also facing the direction of the bar. You let out a small sigh before putting the books away and preparing the drinks for the men. The man never said what drinks he wanted but considering the two of them have only been drinking bourbon, bourbon was a good choice. Before starting you tightened your apron, greatly exaggerating your waist, although you could barely breathe you knew that it made you more attractive to patreons. The patreons liking you equals more tips. While making the drinks you made sure to add enough ice in the second drink, so they just might forgive you for your behaviour. As you placed the two glasses on your serving tray you noticed the long haired man give you a small smirk. You went to their table once more and put the beverages in front of them while smiling at both of them. You also left a bill on the table before heading back to the bar, the echo of your shoes making you feel anxious as you walked, causing you to begin holding your tray in both of your hands in front of your stomach. On your way back you heard one of the men say something, which made the short haired one shake his head. You were wondering if they talked about something you did but didn’t want to be rude and ask them about it. It was pretty late already so only a few other people were still at the restaurant. You wanted to get home at some point that night so you hoped that the last guests would be leaving soon. Just as you thought that, you saw the two men you were serving get up and leave the restaurant. Before going through the exit door the man with longer hair looked back at you and gave you a wink. You let out a small laugh and shook your head. You went to the table they left from to clean up and collect the money. You noticed a small note with something written on it. A phone number, you realised. “Call me ;)” was written beside it. You looked around and put the piece of paper in your pocket with a light smile on your face. That smile quickly turned into a shocked face though as you noticed a massive tip laying next to the bill. You didn't even know what to do, so you just stood there looking at the money. As you looked at the flurry of green bills you could hear footsteps behind you and soon your coworker stood next to you, also looking at the money.

“Well, someone seems to like you”, they laughed “Maybe those apron and shirt tricks you do work too well.” You shook your head and left your coworker standing there as they chuckled at their joke.

A little while later the restaurant was empty thanks to the closing hours, and you cleaned the last tables. But before you had the chance to leave as well, you saw the door opening once again. “I’m sorry, we’re closed!” You looked up and saw the long haired man standing in the doorway. Other than just his hair you could instantly tell it was him, the fancy suit helped a lot. “Did you forget anything? I actually think you left too much money when you left with your friend.” You picked up the cash that was placed in an envelope under the bar and began to get the money out of it. “I can give it right back to you, if that's why you came back.”

The man shook his head and slightly chuckled. “No, the tip was meant to be like that. I was actually wondering..”, he stepped closer toward the bar you were standing at. “..Why didn't you text me yet.”

You had to laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t have the time yet because I had some work to do and you left that note like ten minutes ago!” You chuckled yet again. “Trust me I was going to call you!”

Now it was his time to let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I'm sure you would have. Anyways, now that I’m here again and it seems your work is done, how about we get your favorite drink together?”

“I mean we are closed…” You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your puffed out chest. “But I’ll let you get a drink this one time.” He seemed satisfied with that answer so he sat down on one of the bar chairs, followed by him tapping the empty space next to him. “At least let me make your drink before I sit down!” You playfully rolled your eyes and began pouring liquor into a shaker. You noticed him looking at his phone after receiving a message from someone. “Someone at home is missing you already?” You asked jokingly as you placed your fruity, yet strong, favourite drink on the bar.

He shook his head. “Not at all. Just my.. Colleague asking what I'm up to.” He put his phone on the counter. You went around the bar and pushed a glass towards the man and sat down on the empty stool beside him. “I never got your name. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He smirked as he took a sip from the drink. “Not bad.”

You chuckled as you pointed at the name tag that was attached to your shirt. The man looked at you dumbfounded. “Well, this is awkward now. Doesn't seem like a fair trade anymore.”

“I’ll just hope that you were being respectful and you didn’t want to look at my chest.” You winked and couldn’t contain your laughter as you did up the buttons on your shirt, hiding the “money makers” as your best friend would call them. The man looked at your chest for a moment as you did up your buttons before quickly looking away. You could see his face get a little red, although you weren't sure if it was a reaction to what you just said or the alcohol finally showing effect. He cleared his throat and seemed to want to change the subject. “Ehem..the name’s Leon S. Kennedy, by the way.”

“Ooo S. Kennedy huh? Am I going to have to guess what the S stands for?” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you talked.

“Go for it.” He laughed and took another sip of the drink.

“Uhhh… Steven?” A head shake. “Sam?” A no again. ”Sexy?” A chuckle but still a no. “Ugh I give up!”

“It’s Scott.”

“Scott, huh? Sounds kinda cute.” You laughed as you looked at Leon and then the clock behind him. “Even though we haven’t spent much of an evening together we’re going to have to call it quits, I have to lock up now.”

Leon turned around to look at the clock. “That’s a shame.” He turned back to face you. “Y’know I’ve got some drinks back at my place if you’re interested.” He raised his eyebrows as he asked for the date to continue.

You thought about the offer for a moment, you didn’t have any classes in the morning so maybe it would be fun. “Wine?” You asked and he replied with a nod. As the two of you stood up from your stools you quickly paced around the restaurant making sure everything was perfect. The lights were off. All of the switches were off. And finally the security alarm was turned on. You shuffled Leon along as you left the restaurant, making sure that he wasn’t trapped in there when you locked the door. “Alright, that’s everything!” You placed your keys into your work bag and slung it over your shoulder. As the two of you walked to the parking lot you looked down at your phone and secretly texted your roommate saying you were going to be out much longer than anticipated and that your location was being shared with them. Just in case.

Leon fished his keys out of his pocket and tapped a button on the car keys, causing a nearby car to light up. With the size of that tip that Leon left an expensive black sports car belonging to him shouldn’t have been a surprise. “Woah! What car is this?” You asked, not knowing anything about cars apart from the fact that most of them have four wheels.

“It’s a Porsche Nine-Eleven.” He replied. “It’s my favourite.”

“Your favourite? Meaning you have multiple cars?” You questioned. “Can I borrow one? I don’t even have a car.” You chuckled as you opened the door to the luxury car. Leon chuckled too as he got into his seat and tapped a few buttons on the dashboard. The entire car began to roar as it’s engine was turned on, making your entire body shake. Making your entire body heat up. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” You asked.

He chuckled. “It’s because your heated seat is on. I can turn it off if you would like.”

As the car traveled you looked out of the window and when turning to your left you noticed that the lights in the car softly lit up Leon’s face as he drove the car. Showing off his sharp jaw and slight stubble.

After a twenty minute drive you step out of the car onto the gravel driveway and you hear the stones crunching underneath your feet. Leon walks up beside you and leads you up the stairs to the front door. Reaching into his front right pocket he pulls out his keys and unlocks the double doors, allowing you to walk through before he did so too and then close the door behind him. “Woah! You have such a cool house!” The large modern chandelier reflected onto the marble flooring in the entryway. Leon kicked off his shoes and pushed them over to the side of the wall, prompting you to do the exact same. “You have no idea how much I hate these shoes, they are so uncomfortable, especially when you wear them for twelve hour shifts without sitting down.”

“Why on earth do you wear them if they hurt you?” He asks as he takes off his jacket, hanging it up on a coat rack beside the door. He reaches out his hand to take off yours as well, to which you respond with a smile. You turn around and he carefully takes it off of you, followed by him then placing it on the coat rack next to his own.

"I don't have much to choose from when it comes to clothing. Just in general our work uniforms aren't really the best of the best."

Together the two of you went into the kitchen and you sat at a bar stool, leaning on the counter. As you waited for Leon to fix you up a drink you noticed just how empty the house has been so far. “Wow it’s quite empty, going for the minimalistic vibe huh?”

Leon shook his head as he placed two wine glasses down on the counter, both with ice. “I just haven’t gotten around to decorating this place yet.” He poured both glasses full and sat then leant on the counter in front of you, placing your drink next to your hand. “I mean I’ve only been here for like 3 years but I’m a busy man.”

You picked up your drink and almost dropped it after hearing that response. "Three years? You must be reaaally busy if you didn't have time for at least some decoration. What are you doing all the time anyway?" You took the drink and a small sip before standing up with it still in your hand. Leon looked at you kind of confused, but following you nevertheless. You walked around the kitchen, then the other rooms. You were talking nonstop about the stuff Leon could put on the walls, the floor or just anywhere really. He couldn't even say anything because it seems you were in your own world already planning the entire interior design of his house. Leon was following you through all the rooms as if he was actually visiting you and not the other way around. While planning the designs for Leon’s home you realised just how excited you were to do this officially as a job in the future. Creating your own interior design company and being your own boss was something you had in mind ever since you were a child. After who knows how long you both finished your drinks and also the house tour. You ended back at the kitchen where you started and both sat down on what seems to be the only chairs in this humongous house. Leon went away for a few seconds before returning with yet another bottle of what appeared to be some expensive wine. “You’re not just trying to get me super drunk so you can kidnap me, right?” You asked him jokingly, but also slightly worried. After all, what were you doing here in a complete strangers house?

“If I was going to kidnap you I would have done it already, buttercup.” You gulped but shrugged it off after looking at Leon, who smiled at you. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad being kidnapped by him. He's got quite the nice home after all. Leon stopped you in your thoughts as he handed you a glass of wine. "It's really good, trust me. Nothing against your favourite drink, but still very tasty." You took a little sip from the wine and looked at him with big eyes.

"Wow. This is actually really good. I've tasted many different brands of wine but never one like this. You do know your stuff, huh?"

He let out a small laugh which also made you smile. You didn't know if it was the alcohol but you suddenly felt really hot sitting so close to this handsome man. "Anyway, what are you doing besides working at that restaurant? I saw some school books at the bar earlier, were they yours?"

You nodded lightly. "I'm currently studying Art and Design but I needed some money to even afford all that stuff. So that's why I ended up at that restaurant." He looked at you, maybe even a little sad. But maybe you just started imagining things.

"You don't have any family that supports you or anything?"

You shook your head. "That's kind of a difficult topic. My parents aren't really what they used to be after.. well, let's just say some inconveniences." You took another big sip, showing Leon that you didn't wanna talk about it anymore. Even though he wanted to ask, he stopped himself before ruining the whole evening, or well, night. You sighed and looked at him. "On our tour I think we missed the bathroom. Mind showing me the way?" He nodded and led you through the house. As you were in the bathroom Leon went up to his workroom and picked up an envelope. He went downstairs again and hid the filled envelope in one of your jackets' pockets. After a while you rejoined him in the kitchen looking really tired. "Leon, I don't wanna sound rude but I’ve had a long day and I think I really need some sleep. Do you mind calling me a taxi?" He saw just how tired you were so he didn't try to make you stay any longer. He grabbed his phone, called you a taxi and gave you some money for it.

You wanted to decline, but Leon didn't want to argue so you had no chance but to pay with his money. "I brought you here in the first place so the least I can do is pay for your ride home", he said. You both then went to the entrance where Leon helped you put on your jacket. After that you both sat down outside on the stairs waiting for the taxi to arrive. Neither of you said a word, but it wasn't a weird silence, you both really enjoyed each other's company and after a few moments of sitting on the cold stairs a car arrived. Leon brought you to the door and you told the driver your address. You gave Leon a small wave as the taxi began to drive off...

[anaiswriterr]

 For the sake of our relationship

Pairing: Fem!ProHeroReader x Hawks

Rating: M

Authors Note: This story contains subjects that may not be suitable for a younger audience, warning: Blood, fighting, swearing, the word rape is used and sexual content. This is an angst story. Inspired from the story, “I’m your Salvation.” Also the readers quirk is: Electricity, you can control electricity. Hero name: Elytra. Also this story is extremely long!

Synopsis: When Y/N loses her quirk and possibly her career all in one day, she’s faced with hard decisions, and grief. Keigo just wants to help but what if you just don’t want his help? Will the relationship crumble?

 He didn’t know if it were the cuts, scrapes, burns, gashes and the deep dark bruises that covered your body, that shook him to the core. Or if it were the ventilator that was placed in your throat that made him boil and shake in his seat in anger.

   His lips pressed into a thin line, rubbing the tears that spilled over his cheeks away every few minutes. His uncontrollable sobs that shook his body, and the constant whispers of encouragement he’d give to you through his choked sobs.

   “Come on kid, just fight it.”

   He held onto your hand, rubbing over the bruise on your wrist lightly, waiting for you to wake up. His teary eyes wondered all over your beaten body and landed on your neck. A large imprint of a hand was bruised, painting the area in black and blue, the cuts all over your face only made him want to go out and find whoever did this to you.

   You had been gone on a mission for only a couple of weeks, saying, “Stop worrying, I’ll come back home like normal and you’re gonna see how silly you were.” You’d teased, sticking out your tongue at him and kissing him goodbye. He knew the work you two did was dangerous, sometimes one of you would come in the early hours of the morning with bruises and cuts that weren’t there the other night. And sometimes it’d be burn marks and for him shorter wings. But he never knew it’d be like this, to the point you were in a hospital room fighting for your life after a mission that went horribly wrong. Nobody had word of the incident, and the Hero Commission would make sure of that till you were fully healed.

   It only made Keigo angrier. The fact that they only thought of your return, and jumping right back into hero work.. Not giving a damn if you were just holding on by just a thread. Life was different now. It had been now, two weeks since you were admitted into the hospital. Keigo would only leave your side to shower and come back, dismissing all his hero work and leaving it to his sidekicks; instructing them to only call him if it’s absolutely necessary.

   He’d only hope that he wouldn’t have to leave. Your state had only seemed to worsen, it was later when a doctor had come in to discuss an important and life changing conversation with Keigo.

   There was one word that rung continuously in his brain, one word that made him sit down.

   “Quirkless.”

   ***

   You wished you were dead.

   You wished your body would’ve given out and that you would’ve died. Not wake up in a lifeless hospital, with guilt rushing over your body. Staring lifelessly at the blank ceiling, you woke up after another week of being admitted into the hospital. You didn’t cry, you didn’t mutter not even a single word.

   Your voice wouldn’t let you.

   It was hoarse and raw, your body ached and throbbed and yet you still didn’t cry. You couldn’t, they’d dwell but wouldn’t fall 

   You didn’t even acknowledge your longtime boyfriend Keigo; sitting there.

   ‘What kinda hero am I if I couldn’t even save those people?’

   The screaming and yelling, the sound of innocent children being slaughtered. It was your fault, you couldn’t save them.

   And now it appears you can’t ever save people.

   When the doctor informed you about no longer having your quirks you remained lifeless, laying your body right back down and turning to face the wall.

   “Leave.” You mumbled.

   “Babe, you need to listen he’s-“

   You gripped at your pillow even tighter, “Tell him to get the fuck out! Or I’ll tell you too next!” You shouted into the pillow, not looking at his hurt expression. He looked towards the Doctor, with an apologetic look. And returned back to sitting next to you, watching you. It was the first time you expressed something, it was cruel.

   Innocent people died and now you’re quirkless? You don’t even know how, it was all so fast. So was it a sick game, to be forever punished. But you guess you deserved it, karma after all.

   You haven’t spoken a single word to Keigo, not wanting to face him as the ‘Pro hero who couldn’t do her job.’ It was shameful. Embarrassing to even be linked with him. He was perfect, like an angel. And you were just like the rest of the hero’s who burnt up too fast.

***

   You were discharged a week after, with an assortment of prescriptions and medications. Even creams for the deep scars on your body.

   Keigo insisted the first thing you should do was take a bath when you got home, he was helpful. Making sure you were all set to go and even brought you clothes for when you were finally discharged, your attitude towards him remained the same:

   Cold and quiet.

   It was like radio silence between you two, with slight static from his end as he’d try to reach with with kind eyes and soft kisses. But like a painting, you remain the same.

   When you two got home he quickly helped you inside by grabbing your bicep. And closing the door behind you with a small kick, “Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He says softly, but you wave him off.

   “I can do it myself, I’ll take a shower tomorrow.” You argued back, but his grip only got stronger. He arches a brow, you instantly decided to let him help you this once. You nod, and make your way to the bedroom. He grabs you a pair of panties, and a nightgown.

   Seeing at it was a more comfortable option, and would make it helpful to change your bandages without having to strip you.

   He later sat you on the toilet and ran the hot water of the bath, making sure to add your favorite scented bubble bath soap. You smiled weakly, for the first time at him.

   He kneels down in front of you, and pulls your shirt off and pants, his glorious wings touch the tile floor beneath him. He strips the rest of your clothing off and helps you in the bath, washing your body off with its hot water.

   He leans down to kiss your forehead, “You okay?” He asks, pouring water over your hair and scrubbing it gently with his fingertips unto your scalp with the shampoo. You don’t answer, but instead grab a handful of bubbles in your hands. Blowing them away, he pours more water over your head; and scrubs your back.

   The cuts and gashes burned in the water, but the sensation gave a small calming effect, it was something you could finally feel.

   Keigo is mindful of the wounds and only goes over them gently, cleaning off the area like instructed; earning a small hiss from you as you lean forwards in pain.

   “I know it hurts kid, but you're gonna have to endure for just a little while longer.”

   He continued to clean you off, and suddenly you felt a wave of emotions.

   Here it is, the after shock had finally dissipated and here it was, your emotions. “Keigo..” you finally say his name after so long, he stops, “Yes Angel?”

   “A-Are they really gone?”

   He didn’t know if you were asking about the people or your quirks, but one thing is certain, it was still the same answer. He nodded.

   “Yes.” He simply says.

   A tear escapes your eye, and then another, till eventually you’re full out bawling in the bathroom tub.

   Keigo is smart enough to know that anything he says, or does can not bring you back what was lost. And it killed him, so all he did was simply hold you, your wet hand gripping onto his forearm and sobbed. He knew nothing he could say would help you, so he did the next best thing: 

   He sat down, and took it. He remained quiet, and did not bring up the situation any longer: even going as far as to shield you away from hero related stuff, and would only take missions at night. Even making sure the TV was never on the news channel.

   He’d help you out of the bath and would help put back your clothes on, you cleared your throat when you noticed his eyes wandering on the wound near your gut for too long. You hated how he looked at you like some sort of sick child, you hated the way he’d constantly treat you like a porcelain teacup. He aided with your bandages and helped you towards the bed; still not uttering a single word to each other. 

   He just wrapped you in the warm sheets and left you with a blanket that smelled like him, remembering the silly arguments you’d two would get in when he cleaned the old thing. 

   Arguing, “Now you have to sleep with it cause it doesn’t smell like you anymore.” But of course he’d smile back at you and oblige to the order. 

   Now it has just provided you the small comfort of better times, he tucked you in and handed you the remote. He leans down, wiping the last of your tears with his calloused thumbs and glancing at you with a sad smile. 

   “I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner, I’ll be up in a few.” He said weakly, before standing up and heading towards the door. But you reached out for his hand, catching it at the last second. The movement made you wince, but you needed to say it. 

   “I love you, Keigo.” 

   He deserved to hear it, he needed to hear it after weeks of radio silence. 

   “I love you too, songbird.” 

*** 

   The relationship wasn’t always the healthiest, before losing your quirks the two of you would never raise your voices at one another, and swore to never lay a hand on one another. You two swore at the beginning of the relationship, that if you guys had a problem or if something was bothersome then you’d speak out about it. 

   But of course, even after being together for three years and seeing each other rise to be the hero’s you were today; the two of you found different sides of one another; sides neither of you knew existed. You never realized how scary and intimidating Hawks could be; you never realized how his eyes could darken and narrow as if a real Hawk would watch its prey. A warning sign as he glared at you from across the room.

   And he never realized how cruel you could be, just how your words could cut so deep. People say behind angry voices, lies a little bit of truth behind it. Even when you said you didn’t mean it; he also never realized how quick you were to anger. 

   Not even a week after you left the hospital, the relationship felt like the two of you were walking on eggshells. Yelling at one another, as you poured the pills down the sink. He grabbed your bruised hand roughly, and turned off the faucet. 

   It was early in the morning, too early for him to even fight, he thought. 

   “What the fuck are you doing?” He looks at you sternly, and then at the empty pill bottles you had successfully drained. 

   You remained quiet, too weak and tired. Lately all you felt was anger, you barely left the bedroom the both of you shared and you’d push away Keigo when he attempted to feed you. Turning your body around to not face him, “I’m not hungry.” You mumbled. 

   You return back to reality, his sigh of disappointment bringing you back. 

   “You can’t keep doing this! This I won’t allow, just talk to me? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. You won’t talk to me, unless we’re arguing, you won’t eat, you won’t let me touch you. You have to talk to me, I can’t keep playing this game where you ignore your feelings and emotions and just push me to the side. I’m trying to help you-” 

   You interrupt him with a laugh, his soft eyes turn dark, he hated when you mocked him. 

   “That’s the problem Keigo. You’re helping is just a reminder of how fucking useless I am. You treat me like I’m glass, I know you do your hero work at night. You don’t have to hide it away from me. We get it, poor little Y/N, right? I never asked for your help.” 

   His grip on your wrist tightens; he looks down before glancing back up at you. 

   His gaze on your E/C eyes hardens, “Fine.” 

***

   He left you for the rest of the day, cooling off from the argument and leaving you too cool off as well. It was the first time he has left in the daylight since you were discharged. You only sat in the living room, wrapped in your blanket watching TV. Segments of heroes speeches came on, and all you could do was stare aimlessly at the silver screen. 

   The announcement was made public that you won’t be able to come back to the hero scene, explaining all the details of the incident.

   The Commission already had you booked with interviews with the press. But how could talk to them when all they’ll do is remind you of your failures as a hero.

   Like they didn’t care that you were grieving, that you weren’t the same anymore and here you are being forced to fake a smile and laugh it off as if this job meant nothing to you. Years of training to be perfect, the people you’ve saved, the people you had to kill, the families you reunited; it suddenly meant nothing. 

‘I have no reason to be here anymore.’

   What was the point of living if you weren’t the same anymore, you have nothing to lose. 

*** 

   Keigo came back in the dead of night, his lips pressed into a fine line as he wiped the look of tiredness off his face, he noticed your body laying out on the couch, your hair draped over the pillows; he crouches down in front of you. Noticing an even darker bruise on your wrist, he cringed at the memory of his tight grasp. 

   He never meant to hurt you.

   He came back with the pills you threw away, he realized without your painkillers and antibiotics that your healing process would be even more grueling. And he refused to watch. No matter how much you spit, hit, and cry; you have to take it.

***

   He had finally had enough. 

   Another two weeks passed and here you guys were, again, fighting in the kitchen. His voice rising even louder than yours, and his eyes narrow in warning. Your eyes water, and your voice trembles. 

   “Just talk to me! Please!” He begs, he pleads. 

   You stare at him blankly, and try to feel something. But there’s nothing, there’s no feeling anywhere in your body. You pull at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

   “I-I can’t.” 

   He tilts his head in confusion, “I don’t know how..” 

***

   “After running multiple tests and asking Y/N Y/L/N an assortment of questions, it appears that you,” The doctor in the room turns to look at your blank face, she looks at you apologetically, “Are showing signs of depression. Now there are treatments, and I’ll prescribe you some medication to help aid her during the healing process. But I do suggest therapy, and just talking more. Surround yourself with positivity.” 

   Keigo nods and thanks the doctor before she leaves the two of you alone to discuss the options. 

   He stares at the variety of pamphlets stacked in his hand, sorting through them. “We’re gonna fix this, bird. You just gotta help me help you.” He glances at you hoping for a reaction, but you shrug. “A new pill to add to the loads that I already take.” You say sarcastically, shrugging your shoulders, “Yay me.”  

***

   The relationship had its ups and down, there were times when you’d let Keigo help you, you’d also apologize for treating him poorly, But he’d just brush you off with a kiss and a simple sentence, “I’m here till the end, angel.” 

   The little blue pill had seemed to help. 

   For the first month, that is. 

   But slowly, oh so painfully slowly, you went back to your old post-accident bitchy no emotion self. Keigo would drop you off at therapy and pick you up to drop you off back home. 

   But like all good things come to an end, the somewhat normal life you were finally starting to settle into shattered, you were made to go to interviews and you’d come home crying. You were completely gone and empty. You and Kiego stopped having sex (though the last time was the night before you left for your mission), that bothered him the most. Not you not wanting him, it was your urge to be as far away from him as possible, not letting him even touch you. 

   It hurt the Pro Hero.

   Seeing as you no longer wished to even look at him; the love he had held onto slowly dissipated as time went on; like two ghosts living in an apartment full of memories. 

*** 

   You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, noticing all the deep cuts that once scattered your skin were finally all healing, turning into light scars and the bruises were finally gone. It was as if it never happened, you sigh and turn on the shower. Setting it to the hottest setting.

   Keigo was out at work again, and you still haven’t talked to him. It ate away inside of you, it felt like you no longer had control of your body and it’s emotions.

   ‘Was it the pills?’ You thought, the doctor informed you of the possible side effects and this was definitely one of them. But you couldn’t just stop taking them, the last time you tried to throw them away it ended bad.

   You entered the shower and allowed the hot water to fall off your shoulders.

   There was something you were depriving him of.

   And you knew what it was.

   You haven’t touched him. You haven’t talked to him.

   The words I love you, haven’t left your mouth in such a long time it felt like you were forcing yourself to feel something that you couldn’t feel.

He stopped trying after a while longer, and would leave before you could wake up and came home when you were asleep. It was now a routine that he had grown accustomed to.

You wash your body with the raging thought that rushed to your brain, ‘maybe if I try.. tonight. I can’t get some sort of feeling.’ You forced.

   You rinse off the soap and dry yourself with your towel. Changing into a nightgown and making your way to your bedroom.

   You waited for Keigo to come back home.

***

   You could hear the shower head turn on and the door close shut behind him. Only briefly seeing his winged silhouette in the dark, you turned to face the door that connected your room to the bathroom. You say up and wait for him to come out, Keigo never took long showers, unless the two of you were showering together.

   Which hasn’t happened in awhile.

   He came out after a ten minute shower, in loose sweat pants and white tank. His wings falling behind him, dragging against the tile.

   He stood at the doorway when he noticed your eyes on him. He cleared his throat and refused to share eye contact with you. He couldn’t look at the shell of the woman he had so desperately fallen in love for, he could feel his heartbeat rattle against his chest.

   “Why are you up kid. It’s late.” He finally said, glancing up towards you.

   Your body is numbed by his glance, but you ignore it. It was worth a try, you had to see if what you had was still there or if it was long gone by now.

   He cocks his head to the right and relaxes his gaze, “What's wrong?”

   You remain quiet and only look at him. You point a finger at him, and curl it towards your direction.

   “C-Can you come here, please.” You whisper, he nods and slowly walks towards you, his strides are smaller than usual. His look is cautious, when he gets to the edge of the bed you get on your knees and scoot towards him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, and gazing into his eyes. You feel his hands slowly make their way to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

   He looks down at the sheets, and then back at you.

“What do you need?” He asks. Eyes almost asking permission to touch you, you push aside the feeling of disgust with yourself. 

   “You.”

***

   Your leg hooked onto his waist loosely as he pumped in and out of you, what you feared was real. It wasn’t the same anymore, it felt like nothing.

   The love behind it didn’t even feel like it existed. It just felt like you were having sex to get it over with it.

   He groans into your shoulder. Shuddering on top of you, his forearms barricade your sides. Your arm hooks over his back, with each stroke you scrunch your nose staring blanking at the ceiling over you.

   “Ouch.” You say quietly.

   It hurt more than usual.

   You yanked hard on his feathers, causing him to duck his head into your shoulder, “Don’t do that.” He warned.

   His pace increased and all you let out were small groans, still yanking at his feathers, your head up in the cloud, ignoring the annoying thoughts that floated in your head.

   His thrusts abruptly stop, “What the fuck are you doing?” He asks.

   You ignore his question, and let out another groan. Pulling again at his wings, “Okay! Stop, what the fuck are you exactly doing? You don’t wanna have sex?”

   You stare blankly at him, and pull him closer with your legs. “S-Stop! No I’m not gonna do this! I’m not gonna do this when you clearly don’t want too.”

   Again, you ignore him and try again, this couldn’t be happening. Did you really stop loving Keigo to the point your body was physically rejecting him, refusing to be aroused at the mere simplistic action that had before had you screaming out his name so loud the neighbors could it.

   You raise your hips before being met with a stern gaze and hands now pinning you to the bed.

   “Y/N stop!” He yelled, “What do you want me to do? Rape you? I’m not doing this. No, I wanna make love to you, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

   Everything.

    Your body finally allows you to look at his dark golden eyes, he was angry. And rightfully so, your body just finished telling him you didn’t love him anymore. And here you were trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal when it was.

   You hit him first, your hands slam against his bare chest. “Fuck you.” You spat.

   “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! Why can’t you ever just do something without having to ask so many damn questions huh! I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I was trying to see if I still loved you!” You yelled, he slams your body into the mattress, “So you decided the best idea was to see if I could still fuck you right? Huh? You wanted me to use you even though you’re clearly in pain! Is that how you like it? When I hurt you!” He yelled, his grip on your wrist loosening and letting you go. His feathers bring you back your underwear and nightgown from the floor as his other feather brings back his clothing.

   After he quickly puts back his clothes on he turns to face you, “Honestly Y/N, the last thing I’d ever wanna do to you is hurt you. In any way shape or form, I understand you are still grieving but now you’re just being cruel. You want me to be the bad guy so bad don’t you? Fine, your wish is my command.” He glares, picking up the rest of his stuff and leaving for the night.

***

   You stopped referring Keigo to his name and started referring to him as Hawks.

   Just like he stopped acknowledging your existence at all, you followed in suit. He decided that the two of you should have space; for the sake of your relationship you agreed. Though, it would’ve been easier just to break up.

   But you knew it had to be done, your body physically was rejecting Hawks. Your mind was now thinking for its own and you had no control, all the memories somehow mysterious meant nothing to you.

   Now all the times the two of you would share a rare shower, have living room dance parties, eat dinner together on the balcony. The talks of the two of you possibly even starting a family before seemingly slipped your mind and the ring he fingered in his pocket still sat in a velvet box hidden from view.

   It was all crashing down. It’s been barely four months and now you lost your quirk, your relationship was in shambles, the pills you took seemingly increased the more you talked to your therapist, and now you sat in the living room looking for apartments across the city and far away from him.

   Eventually you found a match, it was the perfect size so you decided to place a down payment on it and move as soon as possible. He came back to the apartment before you moved out, he avoided you, but sometimes you’d catch the sense of his eyes wandering over you.

   You packed your bags, folded your clothes, and took everything that was yours.

   “Look, I just think, if we weren’t in the same place and took time for ourselves we could.. be better.” You said, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly as he eyed you down as if you were prey from the end of the hall. He crosses his arms over his chest, “Do you still love me?” He asked curtly. It was a simple yes or no question, he needed to know, the timer was running out.

   You wanted to simply say no, not anymore. Because then that would be the truth, but your body wouldn’t let you say it. You look at the coffee table, and see a picture frame of the two of you, “I-I don’t know Hawks.” Your grip tightens on your suitcases handle.

   “Do you still love me?” You ask. Gripping your suitcase even tighter.   “I don’t know, either.” He sighs, a sad smile paints his face. His eyes water as he looks down to the tile floor, his hands deep into the pockets of his sweatpants. It was an intimate moment for the two of you, filled with raw emotion. You were given the privilege to see Hawks in such vulnerable moments for the past three years despite his training, when it was about you, he'd drop all the walls he built just for you.

   You couldn’t help but wipe a tear yourself, it was a confusing time for you.   He glances up at you, glossy eyes sparkling in the light. “I don’t really want to do this.”

   You nod, and hold in a choke sob, “This is just as hard for me as it is for you, but we need time apart. We need to be separate for a while and see new people. I-I hate the idea-“  

   “So why are we doing this!”

    You sigh, “Because, we can't even look at each other without raising our voices. I wanted to be able to love you the way you need to be loved, and for three years I did.”

   You look down towards your feet, chewing your bottom lip.

   “I loved you more than anything, Hawks. But right now. We shouldn’t be together.”

   Keigo doesn’t face you, he crosses his arms over his chest. “So that’s it? We’re breaking up?We’re separating.”

   “Yes.”

   He shrugs as his hand goes to cover his mouth, his lips pressing into a line, he sends feathers to open the front door and help you with your bags. They follow you to the front door and out, Hawks gives you one last look from the doorway, and waves you goodbye.

 ***

   It had been three months since your move to the new apartment, and you saw improvements in your life. You attended therapy and soon dropped all your pills, noticing you didn’t need them anymore since you were physically healed.

   After much pleading and much needed talking, you finally were able to slowly get off the antidepressants. Your therapist had made a discovery as to why you may have been having erratic mood changes, the hero commission had still paid your therapy and bills and eventually you were given a job to teach at UA High as a science teacher (due to your incredible skills and hands on learning from your quirk, and besides it came naturally to you), you were also teaching kids how to master their quirks, joining the group of teachers that would teach the next generation of heroes.

   Life was starting to get back on track, you even bought a dog. It was out of the spur of the moment, you decided to adopt a little dog and named it Birby after walking by the nearby shelter and seeing him wag his tail in joy, attempting to grab your attention.

   Hawks would occasionally pay a visit to you, and catch up. The two of you decided that during the separation it would be best to at least make time to see each other one day out of the week.

   He’d stop by every Thursday during your lunch break, he helped you grade papers and even met your dog when he came over to your apartment. Which ended with him playing on the floor with the pup the entire evening.

   It was a healthy separation.

   “I’m glad you’re doing much better, you’re smiling like you used to.” He said, in between laughs as he cooed at the dog. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to grade papers.

   “Oo a smiley face, let me guess the kid got an A?” Hawks guessed, suddenly appearing by your side. You nod and hand him a stack with an answer key and blue and red colored markers.

    “Correct you are Hawks, my class rarely fails which means I’m a good teacher.” You applauded yourself, he lets out a laugh.

   “Ha! I bet the only reason those kids pay attention is because they got a hot teacher. Hell I’d stay after school if it meant more time.” He joked, adding check marks to the correct answers and grading the papers accordingly, he’d even put a smile on the page like you.

   You stay silent, it was like it all hit you at once that you and Hawks were separated. The thought had slipped your mind, it wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate it coming from him, but it was the fact that you guys haven’t spoken about each other like that. He senses the tension and cocks an eyebrow at you, “You're doing it again.”

   You scoff, “What do you mean I’m doing it again? What am I doing?”

   He points and waves the marker near your face, “The face you make when you're thinking about something really deep.” He says, before going back to grading. You place the pile of graded papers on your coffee table and turn towards him. He catches your gaze before placing his pile beside yours.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?”

   You wave your hands in front of your face defensively as he inches closer to you, “N-No it’s nothing! It’s just-“

   He scoffs, “Are you seriously mind fucked because I said you’re hot? Damn, I know we’re in separation and stuff but if I wanna call you hot I’m gonna call you hot.”

   You wave your hands even more and slap them on your cheeks, “Hawks!-“

   “That’s not my name.”

   You roll your eyes, “I don’t say your name anymore because of how personal it is too you-“

   “And what? It makes you sound like all the rest, I allowed you to know my name for a reason. I don’t just hand it out to whoever. Again, just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean you can’t call me by my name.” He says, leaning back into your couch. You sigh in defeat, he was right.

   “Soooo, Y/N, it’s been awhile since you’ve really talked to me. You haven’t told me much, so how’s the dating life?” He asks.

   A frown appears on his face and you mentally facepalm yourself. ‘Way to get to the damn point.’   Keigo would only ever visit on Thursdays, which was part of the reason why he looked forward to Thursday’s. But even after you moved out, you guys remained close seeing as it would be impossible to forget one another and just called the split a separation though it was truly a break up. You never really opened up to him when he came over, during your lunch breaks he’d just help around and listen to your complaints about “How will this even prepare them in life? I don’t even fucking use this!” As you looked over your lesson plans.   He’d admire you from afar, and watch you. He cringed each time you called him Hawks, but still carried on with life. You just never really told him about what was going on like you used to.

  “Keigo,” you say, earning a smile from the winged hero, “There’s nobody, I don’t really wanna get into another relationship.” You mumble, he shrugs.

   “How about you? How’s the dating game?” You ask, crossing your legs.   He arches a brow at you and almost laughs, “I don’t got time for another chick, not in my interest surprisingly.” You nod, and squint at him.

   “I’m sure you are busy, bird boy.”

   A silence falls in between the two of you, creating an almost awkward tension in the air. You clear your throat, hoping he’d say something. But he doesn’t, he just grabs the pile of papers off the coffee table and continues to grade.

   “What have you been up to, since you’ve moved here.” He asks, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

   “I-I well, I go to therapy twice a week, I finally dropped all my pills, I got a job, I got my dog, that’s really it Keigo.” You said, shrugging your shoulders and giving a content sigh, you looked around your place and crossed your arms.

   He nodded and smiled, “You stopped your pills?” He asks excitedly, it was a huge milestone and a big deal to him, and you understood why; the pills drained you and drain who you were as a person. It was just time to finally let them go. 

  “yup.”

   A grin plastered his face. He looked like he was proud, “I’m so happy for you, Y/N.” You thank him, and glance at his eyes. It’s been awhile since you looked at his eyes, which only reminded you of something you’ve been meaning to speak to him about.

   “Keigo,” you grab his attention as he arches a brow, “I was wondering, I know this is sudden but I want you to know that at the time I couldn’t be with you because I was scared I didn’t love you anymore, I know we’re still in a tough spot but.. I want to at least try again.”

   A silence falls between you two, he smirks after a couple seconds.   “You wanna give this relationship thing another try?” He asks, widening his grin. You smile back, “Yes. But I think the only way we’re gonna survive this is with counseling. We can’t just jump back in like when we first started dating.” You say, it was a good option.

   There were still things left unsaid, sometimes old rotten memories would come up, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you finally came to terms that if it wasn’t him. Then it wasn’t anybody else.

   The best idea was to have a mediator.   He agrees with you and you notice his wings twitch slightly, he was happy. And so were you.

***

   “Now, before we start our first session I wanna make sure what my chart says is indeed true,” The counselor states, she crosses her legs and pulls at her glasses; adjusting them.

   Keigo sits on one side of the couch meanwhile you sit on the other end, your palms are sweating in nervousness.

   “Is it true that the two of you are in a state of separation currently? Meaning that you two no longer live together or see one another on a daily basis?”

   You both answer, “Yes ma’am.”

   “Alright, is it true that the both of you have been in a relationship for three years?”

   Again, the both of you nod and answer, “Yes, ma’am”   The middle aged woman claps her hands, flipping through her chart. “Alrighty you two, I usually start my counseling with a series of questions of basic getting to know you two, before we can truly get to the root of the problem.” You both nod in understanding, your hands clammy as they rub together.

   “Now, Hawks, may you please retell the story of how you two met in the first place.” She smiles pointing at him with a pen. “It usually helps remind the clients why they fell in love in the first place.”

    He clears his throat, “Well, I met Y/N when I was twenty years old, she worked for another agency at the time and I first heard of her when I realized she was climbing the hero charts pretty fast. We met at a Heroes Convention and she was wearing a red dress. The whole night I kept looking at her and eventually I introduced myself, a week later we found ourselves on the scene in a villain attack together, and I just asked her on a date. She said no,”

   You laugh at the memory, he looked so rejected but instead of taking the no and dropping it, he’d asked every time you met till you finally said yes.

   “She said yes after asking her twenty times.”

   The counselor nods, opening her mouth to ask another question, “Who said I love you first?” She asks.

   You answer this time, “Hawks, we had been dating for a month and he blurted it out when I was in the shower.”

   Ah yes, he was ranting about something while you showered when he said, “I hope you know I love you, because if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be sane.” You had peeked your head out slowly pulling back the curtains and stared him down. Stumbling on your words as a warm blush creeped onto your neck.

   “Say that again?” You asked him, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

   “I love you?”

   “Yeah, say it again,” you smiled at him. Nodding for him to continue; “I love you.” He said it more confidently, you gave him a peck on the cheek and retreated you head back into the shower; “I love you too, birdbrain.”

   It was a beautiful memory that you had forgotten, and now, it came back in a lightning strike. As if talking about it opened a whole cabinet of memories in your mind with him.

   You had blamed him and treated him like nothing during that cold turmoil time in the relationship. Who knew the two of you would end up in an office trying to revive it.

   Doctor Marie (the counselor) nodded, and proceeded to ask questions of the relationship.

   “When did you two notice the relationship was coming to an end, in other words when and why did you guys decide to separate?”

   That was a very loaded question.

   It struck a nerve in you as you clutch onto the hem of your skirt. The two of you didn't respond nor answers.

   Keigo simply said, “After her accident she started to take a boatload of pills but we didn’t know of the side effects. Not to mention she lost her quirk and Y/N really did cherish her quirk, that with also losing lives,” he mutter yet continued when you nodded for him to keep going. “It was a boat load of things, but I genuinely think for me we separated because we couldn’t handle it anymore. Every time I’d try to help her, or talk to her it just ended up in a screaming match. I loved her so much, but it’s hard to love somebody and be happy when the person doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

   He turns to face you, nodding that it was your turn.

   You sigh, “Well for me.. I was jealous of Hawks.” You say, it was true it was a feeling you hated. You felt like a stupid schoolgirl when that feeling over powered you, it was the first time you admitted it. “I was jealous because he still had his quirk, he still had everything. And every time he helped me it felt like he was treating me like a fragile porcelain doll he found from a vintage store. He’d look at me like a wandering puppy, and then on top of that it was like my head was just clouded with nothing. I started taking so many pills for pain, depression, sleep, you name it. Pretty irresponsible on my part, but I let it take over me to the point my body was just physically rejecting him. All I wanted to do was just leave and not have to face him anymore. And it hurt. Hawks was my first everything, we always talked. But now, or may I say then, it felt like he wouldn’t understand.” You confess.

   Doctor Marie nods and takes notes on her small pad, “Interesting, when you say your body felt like it was physically rejecting Hawks what do you mean by that?” She asks.

   You shrug sinking deeper into the couch, “I didn’t wanna see him, feel him, smell him.. touch him.” Your voice trailed off, it made your stomach churn.

   “How’s that make you feel Hawks?”

   Again, very loaded question.

   Keigo shook his head, racking up his thoughts before he spoke, “I-I felt shitty, like I was doing something wrong. I use to go to work and think I was missing a step, it wasn’t the fact that she didn’t wanna touch me that bothered me, I understand at that time sex can’t fix everything. But when the person who shared everything with you just doesn’t even want your presents around them anymore - it hurts. It made me feel like she didn’t love me anymore. There was a time I didn’t even love her, I couldn’t look at Y/N in the same light.”

   Your heart broke as you stared at the mahogany desk in front of you.   The whole session was filled with more questions, some going ever deeper till eventually it was over.The sessions were two times a week, and it got easier for the two. Slowly their relationship fell back in place, but the house they shared once felt different.

   The first time you stepped back into Keigo’s apartment you had to stop yourself. Looking back at the kitchen sink where most of your fights occurred, you dropped your bag off at the door.The place was filled with good and bad memories. But it was the bad memories that infested the place, eating away at the beautiful ones. And reminding the two of you why you hated each other.The both of you agreed on moving after couples therapy ended.

***

   You hug your old hero costume tightly to your chest, the fabric nuzzled up into your neck as your racked sobs fill the nearly empty bedroom of your apartment. Birby nuzzled at your feet whining.

    “Songbird are you - babe are you okay?” Keigo rushed to your side, and held you close. Noticing your costume in your quivering arms, as you started to slowly calm down he reaches for the costume with a concerning look, quietly asking for you to hand it over to him. You push the fabric lightly into his hands and wipe away your tears. “If it makes you feel better we can put it in a nice box full of other things, you can always look back at it. Or if it’s too much we can-“ you interrupt him and give him a reassuring smile. Your hand clutching onto his, rubbing small circles around his knuckles. “Throw it away. I had to come to terms that it’s over, I’m not crying because of my hero days being over. I’m just mourning the people I couldn’t save. That’s all babe.” You give him a peck on the cheek  and a gentle squeeze on his hand.

   A box full of those memories would simply just be a painful reminder, besides, being a hero was in the past for you. Now, you were entrusted with teaching the new generation of heroes.

    You feel his strong arms tighten around you.

 ***

   Time passed and the two of you eventually moved in all of your belongings and furniture from the old apartment.

    Now laying breathlessly beside one another underneath the cool bed sheets covered with sweat, slick and cum. This was the first time in a longtime, the two of you made love to one another. Breaking in the headboard against the wall, you wince at his touch.

    “Keigo..”

    “Our neighbors are gonna hate us in the morning.” He chuckles, a small smile grazing your lips. You allow his finger to trace circles over your shoulder blades, allowing them to wander over the small bruises that littered the base of your neck. “They probably already know your real name..” You giggle, pecking his lips. “That's bad.. because then I’d have to kill them.” He reminds you of the strict rules he must follow, but he was mainly joking. He made sure to find a place with soundproof walls.

    “Well, I’m sure you're right..” You feel his fingers run down to the curve of your thighs, stopping in between your legs. “Fuck..” You moan into his shoulder, “Fuck, songbird. I wanna hear you sing that song even louder. So wet for me, still so tight.” He growls into your ear.

    It had been so long since the two had any sort of intimacy, you apologized deeply to him.

    “I’m never gonna leave you again, Kid. It’s always going to be you.”

 ***

   Months passed and your relationship was now at its best, you smiled as he eagerly kissed your cheek.

    “Whoa birdbrain! What’s the hype.” You giggled as he lips peppered down our face, he only smiled and showed off his back. Pointing his thumbs at the now small wings, you gasped. “Kei! What the fuck happened!?” You exclaimed, he brushes you off and picks you by the thighs. “No time, don’t worry about it. No wings means shower sex!” He cheers, rushing towards the nearest bathroom. You sigh, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

    “Why can’t we just have a peaceful shower instead.”

    He stops and gently places you down on the bathroom counter, stepping back from between your legs and reaching down to the hem of his shirt, pulling the black and yellow fabric off. He looks like he is thinking when he smiles and kisses your forehead, “Tomorrow?”

    Holding out a pinky for shower sex, you smile back at him, wrapping your pinky around his. “I promise tomorrow.” You begin to strip off your clothes for the day, watching as he turns on the shower head, tapping at the modes and setting the temperature to hot.

   Later on as you feel his hands run through the roots of your hair you feel the sense of calmness, smiling and humming at his actions. You start to feel a tickle in your nose, “Babe. I’m gonna sneeze..” You warn, who knew a sneeze would be so... deadly that day.

    In a matter of seconds the electricity in the apartment complex went out, and the water short circuited. Keigo stood behind you, dazed at the sudden shock.

    “Babe! I’m so sorry!” You apologized, tugging at his puffed hair. He laughed in shock, before stuttering out the words, “Y-your q-q-quirk.. paid a-a v-visit.” You gave a weak laugh, wrapping a towel around him and you as well.

    “Guess it did.”

 ***

   You made a doctor's appointment for the next day and was told indeed your quirk came back, that the possible medication had something to do with it’s delay. But you were also given extra news; you were expecting.

    You smiled down at your tummy awaiting for Keigo to come back from his agency, though he was out of commission still didn’t mean he didn’t have work. He came back through the door with a smile, “So songbird, what’d they say.”

    He pecks your cheek pulling off his jacket and gloves, “Well they said that the lab results do say that it’s positive that my quirk came back, it also says that it decided to probably show up now because I off all those medications and don’t have much stress anymore from after the accident. They themselves don;t know exactly how, initially the reports stated  that there were no signs of my quirk. So I must be lucky!”

    “Well that’s great! That means you can come back and kick some ass again!” He cheers walking towards the kitchen, though he still wasn’t keen on the idea of just throwing you out to the public again. Because you worked at his agency before he’d probably have you doing small work. He couldn’t lose his songbird again.

    You shook your head though, “Actually, I think I might just fully retire from all hero work. And stick to teaching, besides the doctor says it wouldn’t be good for the baby.” You grin, hoping he’d catch your drift.

    He stopped dead in his tracks, processing your words. And slowly turning back to face you, a huge grin plastered on his face.

    “It wouldn’t be good for the baby. You’re pregnant?”

    You nod, “Three weeks along. Besides, I love my job teaching, I just love my kids.”

    He runs out to you and engulfs you in a large hug, you feel tears start to stain your shirt. Your hand caressing his soft hair, running your fingers through his locks to calm him, “I thought I lost you.” His words tremble, you smile softly. “Never.” 

BONUS:

Five years later…

    “Alright kids! Have a good weekend, I’ll see you all tomorrow!” Y/N exclaimed, waving goodbye to her students for the weekend. She pulls out her chair from behind her desk, finishing up her work, when she hears the click of her door opening. The person behind it seemed to be having trouble opening the door, cocking a brow and tilting her head to the right, she smiles.

   “You need help?” 

   She grins when small feathers appear, and a small five year old boy waddles in. A bouquet of flowers covering his face, as he makes his way towards his mom.

    “No mommy, I got it! We got you flowers!”

    You gasp, “Oh baby! Thank you, what are you doing here? I thought you were still at school?” She gathers the flowers out of his small hands and admires the boy, he was a blessing. With his father's quirk, and hair, even his eyes. He was a carbon copy of your husband (That’s right the two got married after the birth of their son) and oh how much you loved the two of them.

    “Daddy picked me up early because I had a tummy ache, and then he gave me medicine when we got home and now I feel better! So we decided to get you flowers and visit you!” He grins, sipping from his red sippy cup in his hand. Drinking away at the juice his father poured for him, Y/N grins, “Well where’s daddy now?”

   At that exact moment, in appeared her husband. Opening the door to her classroom once more and placing a small kiss to her forehead. “Hey bird.” He grins picking up his kid and balancing him on his hip, “We missed mommy so we came to see you.” He pouts, earning a giggle from the boy.

    “I missed my boys too.”

    “Mommy! Daddy even taught me how to fly, he dropped me off the balcony and at first I was falling-” 

   Keigo’s eyes bugged nearly out of his head, placing his gloved hand over his son's mouth. Muffling his words, “Well! Would you look at that! It’s time for us to leave, sorry we gotta cut this short-”

    “YOU THREW MY SON OFF A SEVENTY FOOT BALCONY BY HIMSELF!?”

     “He was fine!” 

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

[elldell1204]

Hair Me Out - Spencer Reid x Reader

Y/N wears her hair in many different styles, and her boyfriend, Spencer, seems to appreciate each one in different ways.

A/N: So, I just wanted to add, I try to make my ‘reader’ as ambiguous as possible, that way you can identify with them more. However, I struggled with this one, as I am a white female with straight hair and not much knowledge of (though deep appreciation and love for) natural or curly hair, seeing as I have little to no experience. Therefore, I have tried making this as inclusive as possible but I’m sorry if at any point seems too specific and you can’t put yourself into the story. Feel free to call me out on anything you aren’t comfortable with!

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, swearing, normal Criminal minds stuff (let me know if I missed anything)

wc - 3,217

Dutch Braids -

You and Spencer had just gotten off from work about an hour ago after a gruelling day with an equally stressful case. Which is why as soon as you were both showered, dressed in the comfiest clothes you could find and waiting for the takeout to arrive, you were both sprawled out on the couch in front of a movie, having no energy left to talk, let alone move when there was a knock at the door. Seeing as you were the one with less of the other person’s body parts draped across you, you got up and answered while Spencer didn’t move an inch. You couldn’t blame him; the poor boy was exhausted.

Around twenty minutes later, you’d both eaten, leaving your plates on the coffee table in front of you with the mental promise to wash them later, and were back to snuggling into each other, getting as close as you possibly could to soothe each other after the day you had. Your head was tucked neatly into Spencer’s chest, your knees drawn up to near your chin in the foetal position, making yourself as small as possible. Spencer was the opposite; spread like a starfish with his arm around your back and his head rested against the back of the couch.

If someone were to ask you what the movie was about, you wouldn’t have a clue where to start. Truth is, you felt like you were stuck in-between both the lands of sleep and consciousness, due to wanting to spend some time with your boyfriend (despite him being your work partner for the best part of sixteen hours) but also wanting to sleep for three days. In attempt to make yourself just a little bit more awake, you started trying to focus on different things around you. First it was the quote on the front of the main character’s t-shirt, then it was the Metro you could faintly hear as the last train of the night rattled by, then it was Spencer’s finger tracing up and down one of your braids that you’d done quickly after your shower.

“Spence?” You murmured the first words spoken in practically an hour.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, his half-lidded eyes shifting to your face that you had lifted to face him.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” His voice was merely a whisper, and if you weren’t listening for it, the only way you’d know he was speaking was from the vibration of his chest.

You gestured to your hair with your finger, and only when he realised did he stop what he was doing and chuckle lightly and dreamily.

“Oh, sorry, I’m not sure, it just feels soft, I guess. I’ll stop.”

“No, no, it’s okay, you can keep going.” You smiled at him, mustering up the energy to lean up and press a sweet kiss to his lips before retracting back to your previous position.

Ponytail -

To say you were having a bad day was an understatement. You usually like to try and stay as positive as you could be when chasing a serial, paedophilic murderer, but there’s only so many deep breaths and coffee breaks you can take before you really start to get pissed off. Not only had you been stuck in hot and sticky Texas for near a week, but you had also been put into single rooms at the hotel you were staying at. Now, not to sound ungrateful (because you very much are of the fact that you at least have a roof over your head), but only having one single bed to a room means that you can’t snuggle with Spencer after a long day, and these were proving to be very long days.

And to add to the problem, Hotch was constantly on edge since the start of the case, with the victims looking a hell of a lot like Jack, and when you were the closest person to him on that first day when his tensions finally boiled over, you had been the one in the firing line of his rage. Which you can take. You knew he didn’t mean it, and if he had to take his frustrations out on someone for a few days so he could do his job with a clearer head, you were happy to be the target.

But now after a particularly rough six days, your patience was wearing thin, and everyone on the team could see it, which is why they offered you and Spencer any jobs they were assigned that would get them out of the stifling police precinct. And you knew they had good intentions, but even that was starting to annoy you.

So now you were sat at the table in the conference room, a pen between your teeth as your eyes frantically search over the evidence you have piled in front of you, desperate for the answers to this case to fly off the page and hit you smack dab in the forehead so you could just go home and have a fight with a pillow or something, anything to destress.

You heard the footsteps coming from the doorway, but you refused to turn around. If it was Hotch, you swear to god you might actually lose your job with what you were thinking of doing if he was short with you one more time. If it was Morgan ready to hand you a first-class ticket to visit the slightly wrinkly and very smelly coroner again, you might actually flip the table.

“Hey, Y/N.” Spencer greeted you warmly, sitting on the table to your right as your eyes slowly lifted to meet his. No, not Spencer. Hold it together, Y/N, hold in your rage, he’s done nothing wrong. “Oh, I haven’t seen you with your hair tied back in a while. I like it.”

Such a sweet statement, and yet it broke you. You could see in his face the moment your eyes lit aflame with anger, and you couldn’t miss the harsh swallow he took to brace himself for your fury.

“Well, Dr Reid, let me teach you a lesson, shall I? 3 reasons. One, it is way more practical for kicking someone’s ass, and right now, I would love nothing more than catching the sleazy son-of-a-bitch who is deriving pleasure from this,” You gesture violently to the crime scene photos splayed out in front of you before continuing to spit your venom. “And beating the living shit out of him until he’s crying out for his mommy. Two, do you know how many officers have tried to flirt up a storm with me in the past week? Way too many to count on one fucking hand! One even went so far as to try stroking my hair like a goddamn cat, and so to avoid that situation, I have put it in a ponytail, because if anything of that nature happens again, I won’t hesitate to break someone’s arm. And three, I usually have it down because most men think you’re dumber when you play with your hair, or I can play seductive to get what I want without a warrant fifty percent of the time. But seeing as we have absolutely nobody on the suspect list right now, and the sheer fury I possess at this moment, I don’t foresee the possibility of me needing to be either of those things, do you?”

Your lungs were heaving once you were done, and poor Spencer looked like you just told him you were a Russian spy sent to kill him. Your eyes were locked onto each other’s, and when you came back to reality from your rant, you recognised the softness and love in his that you were grateful for every day. Granted, they were a little masked by fear right now, but you’d admired him often enough to be able to spot even the faintest hint of your favourite emotions.

You let out a deep sigh, signalling you were back to your normal self as much as you could be right then, before dropping your head into your hands to rub your eyes with the heel of your palms.

It was then you felt the unmistakeable warmth of Spencer’s hand rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you gathered yourself together, bringing tears to your eyes as you opened them once more to face him.

“Oh, Spencer,” You whispered, grabbing his hands tightly with yours, lifting them to your lips and pressing sweet kisses to his knuckles. “I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

“It’s okay, my love.”

“No, it’s really not. I never should have raised my voice at you, especially when it’s not your fault at all that I’m frustrated.”

“Y/N, I understand.” He smiled at you, a small and sympathetic one, but it calmed you nonetheless as he stood, pulling you up from the chair to wrap his arms tightly around you. You gripped onto him like he might run away if you didn’t, breathing in the warm scent that is so unmistakeably Spencer. Your vision was now cloudy with the tears that so desperately wanted to spill, but you were adamant you wouldn’t give the local cops the satisfaction of seeing you with wet cheeks. Luckily, Spencer knows you better than anyone.

“There’s a park a few minutes’ walk from here with a small duck pond. Would you like some fresh air?”

You nodded frantically against his neck as you finally let go, allowing him to lead you out of the precinct, hand in hand, his thumb running softly over yours as you walked.

“I don’t deserve you.” You mumbled, leaning in closer to him as you carried on down the path.

“Nonsense,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “We deserve each other. Just remind me not to get on your bad side; I like having both of my arms functional.”

Bed Head -

A blaring alarm at 6am has to be up there with one of the most annoying things on the planet, and I work with Derek Morgan. You let out a groan, your arm floundering around to find the source of the wretched noise. Groaning in defeat of not being able to do it with your eyes closed, you cracked one open, locating your phone, and finding sweet relief in the snooze button. A very overexaggerated yawn left your lips as you attempted to stretch your arms over your head in an effort to wake up, only to find one immobilised in the grasp of your boyfriend.

You took advantage the rare opportunity of waking up before Mr Alarm Clock himself (also known as Dr Spencer Reid) by allowing yourself a few minutes to admire his form in the golden sliver of sunlight escaping the outside world through the gap in the curtains. It was only when your alarm went off again after the five-minute snooze timer did you try to wake him up.

“Spence, baby, time to wake up.” You whisper, attempting to gently coax him from his slumber. When that didn’t work, you laced your fingers through his mousy-brown curls, scratching lightly at his scalp, just how he likes. Only then did you receive a response in the form of a muffled groan into his pillow.

“C’mon, my love. We need to get ready for work.” You spoke softly, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead.

You chuckled lightly, wrapping your arms around his torso as your legs entwined. “Okay, my sleepy darling. But only five.”

“Mmm, five more minutes.” He mumbled, nestling his face into your hair as he pulls you closer than you thought possible.

Safe to say you took breakfast to go, just so you could bask in each other’s embraced for a little longer than five minutes.

Post-Sex Hair -

You climbed from his lap gently, unsure if your legs could hold yourself up as you panted heavily. Practically throwing yourself down beside Spencer on the bed, he took the opportunity to grab your hand, lacing your fingers with his as you laid your head on his chest. You were both still a little dreamlike in your post-orgasmic haze, and when Spencer began to press kiss after kiss into your hair, you didn’t hesitate to enjoy them.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered into your hair, punctuating his statement with a final kiss for good measure.

You looked up from your position, shifting slightly so you were face to face, and scrunched up your nose. “Really? Even with sweaty sex hair?”

He chuckled, and you followed with a giggle of your own as he leant over to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Especially with sweaty sex hair.” He whispered with a joking edge to his voice, his lips brushing with yours.

“Well, I’m pretty sure the team wouldn’t love my sweaty sex hair, so I better hop in the shower.” You smiled, kissing him quickly once more before climbing out of the bed and walking towards the bathroom, a sway to your hips.

As you reached the door, you turned to shoot a smirk over your shoulder at the blissed-out boy behind you. “Oh, are you not joining me?”

You swear you’d never seen the boy move as fast as when he clambered from the bed and chased you into the bathroom.

Straightened -

There was something about going undercover that equally excited you and creeped you out. Especially tonight, when you were having to go under in a club to catch a guy who was killing adulterous wives. You were the closest person in the team to his type, so it was a no-brainer to choose you, really. Didn’t mean you were happy with it, and it seemed that Spencer wasn’t either, if his clenched jaw was anything to go by.

Well, you were going to do it no matter what, so why not get yourself dressed up and try to bring some joy back to a less than ideal situation? That is why you were stood in the locker room of a precinct on the west coast in a red crushed velvet minidress with black heels, a fake wedding ring and straightened hair, and you couldn’t lie, you were totally feeling yourself.

“Woah, Y/N, you look…amazing.” You heard Spencer say as he entered the room.

You turned your head and smiled at him, feeling a little flustered as his eyes trailed over your form. You attempted to push your dress further down your thighs as he walked to you, his hands encircling your waist from behind and his head perched on your shoulder.

“It’s not too much is it?” You mumbled, looking down at yourself to do a final once over.

You felt his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to look him in the eyes through the mirror, ones filled with love and a hint of desire that set your skin aflame. He brushed your hair aside from your neck to trail kisses down the side of your throat, eliciting a breathy sigh from your lips.

“No, Y/N, you look badass.”

You giggled at the word that seemed so foreign coming from Spencer, but that was soon muffled when he spun you around by his hands on your hips and his lips hungrily met yours. Your lips moved against each other’s, his tongue coming to swipe at your bottom lip in a request for entrance. You granted it, and soon you felt your back collide with the cool metal of the lockers. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt as you explored his mouth with your tongue, relishing in the taste of him. You laced a hand up into his hair as you felt a hand that he had at your waist moving to your ass, gripping it roughly, causing you to moan into his mouth.

“Reid? Y/L/N? You two lovebirds ready?” You heard Morgan mock from the doorway and you both immediately jumped apart like some sort of invisible wall had shot up between you.

Looking around to see that Morgan wasn’t in your eyeline, given that the lockers luckily blocked you two from his view. But not from earshot, seeing as you could quite clearly hear his hearty chuckles as his footsteps got quieter and quieter.

You looked up at Spencer, his hair dishevelled and his tie askew, a look of both embarrassment and amusement at being caught making out like two horny teenagers adorned his face. A grin broke out on your lips, which he mirrored, and soon you were both laughing hysterically as you sorted yourselves out in the tiny little mirror on the wall, attempting to make it look like you weren’t a few seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes off, before re-joining the team in the conference room.

Messy Bun -

Ugh, cold and flu season. You swear you never make it through it unscathed. And it seems as if your battle was commencing today. You woke up feeling dreadful; runny nose, scratchy throat, constant sneezing, and red-rimmed eyes. Attractive.

There was no question in having to call in sick, so after throwing your hair up in the messiest of messy buns and locating the snuggest blanket, you dialled the number. You could practically hear the wince from Hotch when you started having a sneezing fit down the phone. Now you weren’t sure if you could look the man in the eye when you went back.

Once that torture was over and done with, you were feeling sorry for yourself and decided on a warm cup of tea and a dose of shitty daytime television. You were halfway through some over-enthusiastic talk show when you heard a knock at your door. Refusing to leave the blanket behind that you’d burrito’d yourself in, you shuffled over to the door.

You didn’t expect a very sympathetic looking Spencer on the other side of the door, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a welcomed sight.

“Hey.” You croaked out.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” You gave him a look that said it all, and he chuckled lightly. He lifted the bag he had in his hand. “I brought the best cure I could think of; chicken noodle soup.”

“I don’t want to get you sick, Spencer.” You whined, wanting nothing more than to curl up into his side but holding onto your selfless and rational thoughts by a mere thread.

You smiled at that, stepping aside to let him in. He passed you and went and got comfortable on your couch, grabbing a fork on the way. When you met him in the living room, he was ready and waiting for you with his arms open for you to snuggle into.

“Don’t worry about me. Now come on, your soup is getting cold.” He smiled, making grabby hands at you.

You made your way over, sinking into his embrace as he passed you the container and your fork. After a few mouthfuls and several minutes of listening to his steady breaths and thumps of his heart, you were feeling much better.

“Thank you.” You mumbled once you were finished and had placed your empty container on the coffee table in front of you, nuzzling further into Spencer’s chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Didn’t have to tell you twice.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

The Straw

(Story Post)

After a long day of work, the last thing Sydryn wanted to see was their refrigerator items strewn across the kitchen counters and floor while their sibling took a nap at the kitchen table. There were also several grocery bags among the catastrophe, heaped and overflowing with countless fluffy pink pastries. “What in the world is going on here?” Sydryn demanded, loud and stern enough to startle Seranan awake. “Sissy! What, oh…” Seranan sat up and looked around. “Oh, yes. I was just doing some reorganising… But then I got tired and took a nap, I guess.” “Reorganising my refrigerator? Full of my food?” Sydryn snarled. “Why in the world would you do this? Not to mention, you left the refrigerator door wide open!” “D'uh. How else would I access it during lengthy grocery reorganisation?” Seranan asked, propping up their head. “And I did it to fit in my groceries.” Sydryn picked up one of the shopping bags and held it open. “This is entirely roll cakes!” “Yes. Disgusting, I know. You can blame your little angel for introducing me. Now I have a wicked craving all the time,” Seranan groaned. “Don't blame Köbi for this! When did you even go out and get nine bags of these? You're not to leave the house!” Seranan rolled their eyes and tapped their phone on the table. “They have grocery delivery apps now. Join us in the 21st century, Sissy.” Sydryn fumed. “You of all dragons did not just tell me to modernise...” “Just because I'm a history hoarder does not mean I don't know how to use the internet,” Seranan huffed. Sydryn threw the grocery bag down and pointed to the hall. “Get out of my kitchen immediately!” Seranan rolled their eyes and got up, cradling their underbelly like it was such a struggle. “I bought them for you too, you know. The angel said they’re your favourite.” “Stop talking to Köbi!” Sydryn snarled.

“You should be happy we get along at all...” Seranan shrugged. “All your little pets typically piss me off.” “Köbi is not my pet, he is my employee,” Sydryn growled. “That kind of talk is exactly why I do not want you talking to him.” “Where is the little ‘employee’, anyway?” Seranan huffed. “He should be here to help clean up this mess...” “First of all, he is my assistant, not your maid. Second of all, I was going to ask you the same thing. I had to work late, so he should've been home over an hour ago.” Seranan shrugged. “I haven't seen him.” Sydryn sighed and stepped out into the hall. “Köbi?” they called up the stairs. Köbi poked his head out of the powder room just down the hall. “Yes?” “Ah. You are home. Seranan said they hadn't seen you.” “Huh?” Köbi walked over and looked into the kitchen. “You don't remember me coming in?” Seranan waved a hand. “How am I supposed to pay attention to what you’re doing all the time?” “But you asked for me the minute I got home. We had a whole conversation about where Syd buys their roll cakes,” Köbi reminded. “I thought that was yesterday.” “It was definitely today, because they would've been closed yesterday.” Seranan waved a hand. “Unimportant. Must have slipped my mind. Anyway, your employer's home. Shouldn't you have dinner prepared by now?” “You specifically asked me not to come into the kitchen since you would be occupying it during your delivery,” Köbi reminded. “Several times, I checked back to see if I could get dinner started, but you hissed me away." Seranan frowned and shrugged. Sydryn groaned and grabbed Seranan by the braid. “Clean up this mess immediately, or I will burn all of these desserts and you won't have any dinner tonight!” Seranan whined. “My tail! Sissy, that's so mean! You wouldn't starve a pregnant dragon, would you?” “Starve?” Sydryn motioned the plastic wrappers strewn across the kitchen table. “You've eaten twenty of these already!” “They hold absolutely no nutritional value, though...” “Then stop eating them!” “It's a craving! I can't help it!” Köbi waded through the sea of plastic grocery bags to get to the fridge. “I was going to make a roast, but I don’t really think there’s enough time, so how about…fettuccine?” “Absolutely not. I will vomit if I eat another beet coloured pink pasta noodle,” Seranan declared. Sydryn yanked their sibling’s hair again. “You’ll eat what you’re served.” They looked to Köbi, though. “I need meat.” “Okay… Uh, how about smoked meat sandwiches?” Köbi suggested. “Perfect. Thank you.” Seranan rolled their eyes. “Everything’s always smoked meat, pink pasta, rose tea, salmon, prawns, grapefruit…” With another swift yank, Sydryn spun their sibling around grabbed their wrist tightly. “Are you mocking my hoard?” Seranan snarled, scaling up under Sydryn’s grip. “…You’re hurting me, Sissy.” “Syd, let’s calm down…” Köbi said, reaching out to take the dragon’s arm. Sydryn flinched away. “Don’t! My sibling, whom I so graciously have been putting up and feeding while they escape prosecution for dracocide, seems to think they can have an opinion on how I run my house.” Seranan glared at Sydryn. “Colours are for children. Your hoard is stupid.” Sydryn’s eyes widened, a wild look of pure and concentrated wrath set ablaze inside them. “Syd! No!” A split second later, Köbi was between them, his hands up, his stance wide. Seranan was in shock, having been pushed back down into the kitchen chair, their sibling’s grip relinquished. Sydryn’s crazed look was gone, instead replaced with surprise and distress as they stared at the angel. Light dripped from his cheek as Köbi reached out and placed a hand on Sydryn’s shoulder. “Sleep.” “Köbi—” Before Sydryn could finish, they passed out, falling into the angel’s arms. Köbi grunted under the weight then sighed as they picked up the pregnant dragon bridal style. “You’re hurt,” Seranan finally emitted, slowly standing up. “They struck you.” “I’m fine. Just a little scratch.” Köbi wiped his cheek on his shoulder and the injury completely disappeared. “Better me than you.” “I would’ve been fine,” Seranan stated, straightening up. “Dragons can scar other dragons,” Köbi reminded. “And it’s Syd I’m concerned about. They’re strung out and emotional right now. If they really hurt you, I don’t think they could forgive themself.” Seranan frowned. “So, what are you going to do? They must be heavy…” “I’m going to put them to bed for now,” Köbi said, shaking his head. “But don’t worry about what I’m doing… If I were you, I’d consider cleaning things up around here a bit. Syd won’t stay asleep long. And I think after a long day, waking up to a meal made by family would just make my day. Wouldn’t you agree?” Seranan scrunched their nose. “…You can’t tell me what to do.” “I can’t. I can only make suggestions.” Köbi carried the slumbering dragon out to the hall. “I’ll come back in a minute to help.” The red dragon barely dignified that with a huff. Köbi just continued on, taking Syd up to their bedroom. As soon as they were tucked in, Sydryn began to wake up. “...Köbi.” They looked at the angel standing beside their bed. “Did I... Did I hurt you?” “No.” Köbi shook their head. “Must've been a bad dream.” “Angels shouldn't lie...” Sydryn sighed, rubbing their eyes. “I'm so sorry...” “No, I'm sorry for sleeping you without permission,” Köbi said. “I’m not supposed to touch you...” “You did what you had to,” Syd insisted. “It could have been bad... Is Seranan alright?” Köbi nodded. “Yeah. They're perfectly fine. Don't worry about them. Tell me about your day. What's got you so riled up?” Sydryn sighed and sat up. “Everything. I have patients who shouldn't be getting pregnant getting pregnant, almost getting pregnant, and I'm pregnant, and I also have to keep an eye on Gardi, even though he wants more responsibilities, and Ix and I are supposed to be collaborating on the celestial pregnancy research, but beyond that, they hardly say a word to me and I wonder if somehow I've upset them in some way... I don't know. I genuinely enjoy working with them, but not when they won't even look me in the eyes.” “Oh. Oh, um...” Köbi rubbed his neck. “Well, if you're worried about Ix, I think you should just talk to them about it. With Reid, from what I can tell, he's pretty much fully recovered. If you trusted him to manage your practice while you were away in the Fall, I think you can trust him now. And as for all the patients, maybe giving Reid more responsibilities would be a good thing. You really need a break. You're putting a lot of stress on yourself.” Sydryn shook their head. “I can't take a break. There's too much going on and even if I let Gardi have more responsibilities, he can't take all of them on.” Köbi tilted his head. “Well, right now, you really should just rest. When dinner's ready, I'll bring it up.” “No, I should probably come down and apologise to Seranan,” Sydryn decided. Köbi shook his head. “I don't think you're ready for that. Wait for them to come to you.” Syd sighed, laying their head down. “...Alright. Thank you, Köbi.” “Don't mention it.” Köbi made his way back down the kitchen where Seranan was now trying to stuff away their groceries into any empty cupboard space they could find. Kobi noticed some bread and meat had been pulled out and placed on the kitchen table as well. “Looks like you got started,” Köbi said delighted. “I’ll get the rest out, and—” “I don’t need your help, I am perfectly capable of constructing a few sandwiches…” Seranan growled. “Go about your business.” “Okay… I just wanted to add, um…” Köbi rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry I prioritised Syd in the situation when they lashed out. After what you’ve been through before, I can understand if this situation was…difficult for you.” Seranan’s eyes narrowed as they turned their gaze onto the angel in disgust. “If you’re trying to suggest that any of my experiences have left me weak with ‘emotional trauma’ or some kind of ‘victim complex’, you are sorely mistaken.” “Alright. Well, just so you know, you can always talk to me,” Köbi stated. “Actually, I’ve been explicitly told not to talk to you, and from this point on, I plan to follow along.” “Okay.” Köbi shrugged. “Well, I like pickles with my smoked meat sandwiches.” “I fail to see the one who asked!” Köbi chuckled before backing out. “Talk to you later, then.” “You will not!”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Finding A Light

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ron was left broken in the aftermath of the wizarding war. In an attempt to build a better life, he feels he may have unknowingly met someone who could put those pieces back together.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, fluff

A/N: Remus is very much alive in this series! This will be more than one part, I hope you enjoy!

Ron Weasley was a man of few words when presented the daunting task of expressing his emotions, preferring to stuff them down and deal with the consequences later. He never outright says what he’s feeling unless it’s pried from him, and in those times it’s usually expressed through anger. He isn’t great with his words either, so it didn’t come as a surprise to Harry and Hermione to see him so closed off after the war had concluded its disastrous rampage.

It was a battle that anyone and everyone involved was more than likely to never forget, the losses and hardships engraved in their minds as a permanent reminder should their memory allow it as they age. Some had come out on the other side more fortunate than others. Some had handled it far better than others. Ron was not one of those people.

His long awaited ambitions on becoming an Auror were rapidly diminished and pushed to the very back of his mind for a good while. He had wanted absolutely nothing to do with magic beyond that very day, thought that maybe if he hadn’t used it, it wouldn’t remind him of his tragedies. That maybe that part of his life would be forgotten in time if he tried hard enough. So, his wand, his robes, his Hogwarts letters and what was left of his sentimental wizarding memorabilia were hastily shoved into a cardboard box, taped shut and stuffed away to collect dust. Out of sight out of mind was his reasoning, though it didn’t quite work out that way.

The loss of his childhood home paired with the devastating loss of one of his older brothers had been a weight too heavy to bear, pressing down on his chest with each day that passed. He nearly lost two of his closest friends amidst the chaos the Dark Lord left in his wake. Such a lifetime of pain and loss was something he never anticipated to experience all by the young age of eighteen, and it left him feeling like a mere shell of the person he once used to be. As if the years of extraordinary magical endeavors prior to that day were completely erased and replaced with utter heartache.

It took him four years to bring himself out of the pit he found himself stuck in and find some semblance of strength, if only for his mother, and he wanted to build a better life for himself. One without so much sorrow written into his story. He wasn’t entirely sure how to go about doing so, knowing a return to a normal life simply wouldn’t be feasible. Not that his life had ever been considered normal per say.

The emotional scars were something that would never go away, he understood that, but he didn’t think he could go another day having the same mundane routine night and day. He felt ready for more.

Now, at the age of twenty-two coming up on twenty-three, he found himself returning to Hogwarts with hopes to become a professor. His heart nearly beat out of his chest when he arrived, sick to his stomach with nerves as he stopped and stood in the middle of the newly constructed stone bridge. His letter crinkled under the pressure of his tightly clenched hand, luggage in the other, eager students curving their stride to avoid running into him. The castle was more grand than he’d remembered it to be, perhaps they’d made it bigger to house more young witches and wizards, perhaps it wasn’t. Either way, against his instincts, he forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and continue forward before he convinced himself to turn around and apparate home.

He quickly found that things had been kept fairly the same as he roamed the grand halls in curiosity, as similar to the school he’d grown up in as it could be. The wondrous ceiling of enchanted candles in the Great Hall was a detail that briefly gave him watery eyes; the varying hues of reds, oranges and yellows coloring the Gryffindor common room, down to the house flags pridefully ornamenting the new quidditch pitch. He found himself turning to express his awe to Harry or Hermione on more than one occasion, but was only met with the unfamiliar faces of new students. His shoulders would slump as he exhaled a deep sigh.

It had taken him nearly two months to fully adjust to his newfound routine, to come to terms with the memories that flashed in his mind of their own volition. Whether they be good or bad, they had a habit of making themselves known at the worst of times. Over the course of that time period crumpled pieces of parchment had accumulated around the desk in his room, unsent letters to his mother of his wishes to return home. All of which were written hastily in either frustration or tears, or a mixture of the two. And of the ones he had sent, they were promptly returned with enchanted letters vocally telling him with the utmost of love and sternness that he will be staying, he needs this. Those letters kept him going on those days.

Amongst those days and nights it was strange not having his two best friends there, loneliness still having its hold on him.

Remus Lupin had made his return all the more welcome though, himself and McGonagall being two of the only familiar faces that he’d truly connected with. He felt it was an honor to be taken under his wing and trained, he always had been Ron’s favorite instructor of Defense Against The Dark Arts. He’d even go so far as to say he’s the best if he was being honest.

Regardless, despite his own personal conflicts, he was beginning to feel more comfortable residing there than he had ever thought he would. It was as if the nagging rain cloud dumping over his head was starting to dissipate for the time being.

“You did very good today, Ron,” Lupin says once his final class of the day has left, “the teaching of boggarts is never easy I’ll say, and if I recall correctly it wasn’t your favorite lesson.”

Ron chuckles at the thought, pushing his chair in when he stood. “Not particularly. I still have a nightmare or two about that bloody spider.”

Lupin laughs, nodding at the pleasant memory. Things fall quiet for a few moments as Ron moves to sling his bag over his shoulder. “Off you go, Mr. Weasley, enjoy your weekend,” he urges, grabbing Ron’s attention again before he gets too far. “Here’s your weekly report. You’re becoming a fine up and coming professor I’d say. I have no doubt that I will be leaving my classroom in the best possible care.”

Ron nods with a soft laugh, cheeks flushing a pale crimson at the reassurance as he takes the parchment from him, tucking it into his bag to be read later. “Thank you, Professor Lupin, really. It means a lot to hear.”

He smiles appreciatively before making his way across the long classroom, stopping in his tracks. He takes a breath to gather his thoughts before spinning on his heel to face him again, returning to the desk he sat at. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I suppose.”

He offers Ron a smile upon seeing the clear hesitancy written all over his face. Ron gulps, fumbling with the strap of his bag that rested on his shoulder. He could practically see the gears turning in the ginger boy’s head if such a thing existed. “Was it…was it hard coming back here? After the war, I mean.”

Lupin huffs out a soft laugh at the sudden ask of such a deep question, though he can’t say he was surprised. “I was waiting for this question to arise,” he says, lifting a hand to stop Ron from apologizing. “To give a short answer, yes. It took great thought. To give a long answer, one you may not like but I’m sure you already know, there will always be bad days after experiencing such trauma. It is not easy being born into a life where magic is real and not just a trick of the eye. While it can be wonderful it also brings with it a great deal of damage.”

Ron nods as he listens to his words, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Despite all of it, Hogwarts is a place that can be good just as much as it can be bad. You just have to take it in your stride. You’re stronger than you think, Ron. If you really want to be here, I believe it is worth it to try.”

Ron exhales deeply, taking a moment to process his insightful words, a certain wisdom he appreciated. It left him feeling considerably lighter than he had before, like he was a bit more hopeful of a better experience here. “Thank you.”

That’s all he can manage to say.

The blue eyed man in front of him nods. “Go on now, you’ve had a long day, Weasley.”

—

Ron found himself to be rather excited for this weekend. It would be his first time making a trip to Hogsmeade in nearly five years, though he’d been putting it off because the experience wasn’t quite the same when doing it alone. Third years buzzed around him with the excitement of their newfound privileges and independence, bouncing from shop to shop to fully take in all that it had to offer.

He, however, walked at a leisurely pace amongst the students bustling around him, taking a moment to fully appreciate everything he hadn’t seen for so long. Catching details that otherwise went unnoticed like the chipping pink paint on the curved windowsills of Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, and the happy young couples residing inside. The vibrant green moss that formed inbetween the crumbling cracks of the old cobblestone walkways. However, the sight of Zonko’s Joke Shop made his heart lurch in his chest the moment he saw it.

He averted his gaze immediately, swallowing thickly as he tugged at his shirt collar that suddenly felt a little too constricting. It had been Fred and George’s favorite shop to frequent, always buying new things to add to their inventory of pranks. But now that one half of the pair was missing it wasn’t such a fond memory anymore, moreso a taunting one.

The sound of a couple students joyously greeting with a chorus of ‘Hi Mr. Weasley!’ pulled him from his thoughts and he was quick to smile, giving them a half wave as they had already begun to walk away. He let his hand fall back to his side, huffing out a sigh as he continued to walk along the path towards the one place he looked forward to the most, Honeydukes.

The little bell overhead alerted his entrance as he opened the door, the air noticeably sweeter than outside. He found himself smiling as his gaze bounced around the near unchanged shop, any candy you could possibly think of lining almost every brightly painted wall. Though not every single one is a desireable find, he learned that one the hard way. He almost didn’t know where to begin, much like how he felt the first time he ever entered the place, and every time after that for that matter. So he perused the shop, something he’s never done by himself.

His eyes landed on familiar chocolates, and he was quick to grab a box for Hermione because he knows they’re her favorite. Despite such knowledge she still adamantly denies having a sweet tooth to this day. To go along with that, he snags one of the last chocolate frogs for Harry.

It was a fond memory when he thought of it, a tradition they’d had as young students. He’s still got the cards he’d collected from each frog, they were tucked away in that box filled with other things. Maybe when he returned home he’d have the courage to reopen it.

He continues to look around for a bit more, finding himself wishing he had the same sense of enjoyment and innocence as some of the younger students held. For they were fortunate enough to narrowly miss being involved with such negative events. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t looming over his head anymore, to let himself enjoy this very moment. So, he tried his best to clear his mind and bring himself back to his current situation in the middle of an aisle filled with hard candies.

When he had turned the corner of said aisle he collided with something, someone to be more specific, the box clutched in his hands opening on impact and sending the assortment of sweets clattering to the ground with the addition of others. The chocolate frog had fell from its decorative box and hopped out of sight before he could process it.

“I’m so sorry!” A soft voice sounds in front of him, a warm hand enveloping his wrist.

“It’s okay…” Ron trails off when he matches the voice to its owner, blinking slowly as his mouth hangs slightly agape. He found himself staring at the girl, he was quite sure he’d never seen someone so alluring, so captivating. He didn’t know if he could manage to stop gawking. “I-it’s okay.”

His cheeks redden when he realized he’s repeated himself, the fiery heat of embarrassment burning from the very tips of his ears down to his neck, leaving his pale skin flushed. You too came to the realization that you were still gripping his arm, quickly dropping it as you laughed softly to stave off any awkward silence. He averts his eyes momentarily, needing a moment to regain his composure and not make a complete fool of himself in front of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Though he’s quite sure he already has.

“I told Mr. Flume it shouldn’t be quite so cramped in here, but he never seems to listen,” you laugh, looking at the smattering of sweets scattered around the two of them. Ron was focused less on the mishap and more on the way you smiled brightly at him, knowing his cheeks were undoubtedly the same shade as his hair. “Give me just one moment, please!”

He nods just a little too late as you rush off around another corner and out of sight, leaving him to stand there awkwardly as students in the vicinity stared at the mess sprawled at his feet. Shortly, you indeed did come back, a new box of chocolates and what was now the last chocolate frog in your hands. You thrusted them in his direction with a warm smile, one that made his heart flip in his chest. “Take these, it’s on the house.”

“Oh I couldn’t do that,” Ron rushes.

“Please, it was my mistake. I insist.”

He laughs softly, nodding after a moment. “At least let me help you clean up?”

You nod up at him with a laugh of your own, “deal.”

He tries not to think about the way your fingers brush over his as they pick up chocolates from the checkered floor, tossing them into the nearby trash bin. And he tried not to think about the way you’d had his stomach twisting in knots as if he was a thirteen year old again experiencing his first crush.

“I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He scrambled to think of a response, seemingly forgetting his own name momentarily. It hadn’t gotten any better when you looked up at him politely as if waiting for a response. “I’m Ron…Ron Weasley.”

He could’ve kicked himself for being so awkward, knowing him stumbling over his words couldn’t possibly give off any sort of appeal. He brushed his hands off with a sigh as he stood to his feet. Though you didn’t seem to mind his nerves as you brushed your hands off on your jeans.

“Nice to meet you, Ron. I only wished it were on better circumstances.” The pale blush on your face deepened a shade.

“That’s quite alright,” he says with an airy laugh, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “It was nice meeting you too.”

That same silence took up the absence in conversation again as Ron tried desperately to think of something to say, not quite ready for the interaction to be over. You beat him to it.

“I hope to see you around here again, maybe without the mess,” you say with a soft smile, “and don’t forget your chocolates.”

He was confused for a moment, too caught up in the way your eyes sparkled as they looked at him, or the way your hair fell around your face before following where you’d been pointing. “Oh! Y-yeah…thank you,” He grabbed his sweets in his shaky hands, feeling rather bold suddenly, “I’ll see you around then, Y/n.”

He was sure your words were only friendly, something you probably said often as a kind gesture. Probably not because you actually wanted to see him again. But he let himself think otherwise if only for a moment.

You simply nod, your grin widening a fraction, “bye Ron.”

—

Ron’s lifted spirits did not go unnoticed, not by Mrs. McGonagall who made it a point to bring it up at dinner later that evening. He could tell she picked up on it, could tell by the very way she’d glanced at him frequently. Though he wasn’t sure he was hiding it very well. He pretended not to notice, focusing his gaze on the rows of tables occupied by dozens upon dozens of students seated at them, the hardwood adorned with some of the best food he’s ever eaten. Second only to his mother.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so cheery, Mr. Weasley?” She finally asks, and he sighs at the question.

“Not particularly,” he responds using her wording, glancing at her as a smile pulls at the left corner of his mouth. He watches as she raises a skeptical brow; he knows what’s coming.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a number of years, Ronald. I know when you’re lying,” she says with a soft laugh, though she doesn’t pry.

Ron chuckles down at his plate as he shakes his head, pushing his food around as he thought about her. The way she smiled at him, so brightly the corners of her eyes crinkled. It still felt as though those butterflies were still fluttering around in his stomach. He quickly found himself wanting to hear your voice again, or hear your laughter—

“I’ve met a wonderful person today, that’s all,” he blurts, looking to his side.

She gave him a fond yet knowing smile, nodding her head. “I know the look of young love when I see it.”

“I’m not in love, Mrs. McGonagall,” he urges almost immediately, cheeks reddening once more at her preposterous conclusion, “I’ve only just met her today.”

“If you insist, my dear.”

“I do insist.” He tries to be sure of himself despite his inability to get you off his mind, but he hides his smile behind his goblet as he takes a sip.

Later that night he went to bed with something other than sorrow clouding his thoughts, instead feeling rather optimistic about the week ahead. Or maybe it was the plans he’d had at the end of it that had him so eager, time feeling agonizingly slow. It was definitely that. He couldn’t wait to see you next Saturday.

—

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 9)

Hello wonderful people!! I started a summer job and have been reading a SHIT ton, so I haven’t been writing as much. But I’m kinda back into this story again, and we’re about past halfway so I think we can get this done. :) I hope you’ve all been well~~

w.c. 3.1k (yeah, i’m not apologizing for length anymore. i hope you’re all cool with that lol)

pairing: jihoon x OC/reader

pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4; pt. 5; pt. 6; pt. 7; pt. 8

“You have a new boyfriend,” Jungkook says the next time they meet up for lunch in the fall semester.

She shrugs, studying her mug. “I guess so.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You’re still apprehensive.”

“It’s only been 2 months.”

“That’s enough time to know, don’t you think?”

She shakes her head. “It really isn’t.”

Jungkook rests his chin in his palm. “I told you I loved you after two months.”

“We were young and naïve then.”

With a smirk, he doesn’t bother to point out that that first ‘I love you’ had been only three years ago. “Well, how does he feel?”

“Not sure.”

“Trust your instincts on this,” Jungkook encourages. “You have amazing intuition. You told me before I’d even fully moved in with Taehyung that I’d probably wind up dating him.”

“I said that because Taehyung is a good looking, intelligent man and anyone would date him if they were in his proximity long enough.”

Jungkook snorts. “I guess that’s a fair point. But come on. What’s your gut telling you?”

“My gut says that it’s confused,” she replies honestly. “I can’t gauge how honest he is with me.”

“You can’t compare him and Byunggu. No one knew that Byunggu was going to blindside you like that.”

She chuckles. “Do you know how much he’s come up in the last few months? I haven’t talked about him in forever, and all of a sudden, he’s just the topic of every conversation.”

“New boyfriend will do that. Especially after what happened last time.”

She runs a hand through her hair.

“As someone who has dated you, trust me when I say, you’re an all-in kind of lover.” He nudges her fingers with his. “So just go all in.”

“Go all in? And then?”

“Well, if you get hurt in the end, we’re here. You have people around you to hold you up and take care of you. But you can’t go into every relationship anticipating an end.”

She studies the chai in her mug, the way it ripples when she moves her hands even a little. “I guess you’re right.”

Jihoon (13:41)

Hey, lemme know when you’re done at lunch.

Got some stuff I want you to hear before we head home.

Jungkook nods his head towards the phone lighting up at her elbow. “Is that him?”

She nods.

“Are you going to reply?”

“He wants to know when I’m done with you so he can show me something he’s working on.” She fires off a quick text.

“Works in progress?”

“I guess they’ve been less and less finished, yeah.”

Jungkook hums. “If Yoongi hyung were here, he’d say that means Jihoon really likes you.”

She finds Jihoon in the studio an hour later. Bumzu, one of the TAs, had directed her to the studio when she’d appeared in the music building.

“You’re legendary,” Bumzu had said. “Anyone who’s had Jihoon’s attention this long is legendary.”

She’d had no response for that.

Gently, she touches Jihoon’s arm to make him aware of her presence. Jihoon looks up at her and slides his headphones off. Wordlessly, he passes them to her, and she takes a seat in the spare chair. With her feet up, and her knees hugged to her chest, she listens.

“Can you bring up the sound of the piano? The bass seems to be overpowering it.”

She does this for an hour, and he adjusts as they go along. By the end of it, Jihoon is thoroughly pleased with how the song’s turned out.

“I wish I was as useful for your chemistry research,” Jihoon chuckles. He takes the headphones and puts them on the desk. “You going home?”

“No, I actually have dinner plans.”

Jihoon tilts his head at that. “You do?”

“Correction, we have dinner plans.”

“We do?”

“Jihyo told me to tell you that we’re going for dinner with her and Seungcheol.”

Jihoon’s sweet questioning face quickly changes into something of disgust. “Ew. A double date?”

“I think Jihyo wants to tell me something.”

“And Cheol and I need to be there? Why?”

She shrugs. “I have no idea.” She kisses the top of his head as she stands. “But you need to be ready by 5:30, okay? So, no spending the night here.”

Jihoon hums his agreement. He catches her hand and tugs her back towards him. He pouts up at her until she concedes to a kiss, a bemused smile on her face.

As she closes the studio door behind her, she bumps into someone. Stumbling away from her is a girl she recognizes but can’t place.

The other woman recognizes her first. “You’re Wheein’s friend, aren’t you?”

It takes her a moment. “Byulyi?”

Byulyi smiles at her. Her eyes dart to the door she’d walked out of and the smile on her face falters. “How are you?”

“Good. Just heading home.”

“You taking a music class this semester?” Byulyi asks, her eyes flicking to the door again.

“Oh.” She gets the meaning and the looks. “No. Just visiting someone.”

“Lee Jihoon?”

She holds her breath for another story and Byulyi doesn’t fail her. They start to walk towards the exit.

“If you’re friends with Wheein, you must be a nice person.”

She questions the connection, but doesn’t press that point. “And?”

“So,” Byulyi smirks, “why are you hanging around Lee Jihoon? The man’s manipulative and a swindler. He’ll con you of the love you have to give and leave you heartbroken.”

They push out into the sunlight, enveloped by the dying heat of the day. “He knows the right words to say and he knows exactly when to say them to get to you.”

If she hasn’t learned that already, then she’s an idiot. With a deep breath, she thanks Byulyi for the anecdote and the information. Byulyi is on the list of women Jihoon’s dated. These women follow her around now; the stories are variations of each other.

And at this point, she really doesn’t know what to do with them.

“I heard another one.” She sets her backpack down at the end of the dining table.

Jihyo glances up from her evolution flashcards. “Who?”

“Moon Byulyi.”

It only takes Jihyo a second to place the name. “Wheein’s music friend?”

“Yeah.” She empties her backpack on the table and then takes her water bottle to the sink to refill it. “I don’t know what to make of it. Apparently other people know Jihoon and I are…” She struggles to find a word.

“Dating?” Jihyo chuckles.

“I haven’t told him that his exes keep telling all his secrets.”

“I promise you, the look on his face when he looks at you isn’t one of a man who’s in for the sex or even just for the chase. He’s in. For all of that and all of you. I promise you that.”

The boys are already sat at a table when the girls arrive. Seungcheol pulls Jihyo’s chair out, and Jihoon looks conflicted as to whether he should do the same. Smirking, she slips into the chair next to him. She doesn’t kiss his cheek like Jihyo. She grabs his hand under the table and gives it a squeeze.

“Have you looked at the menu?” she asks him.

Jihoon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

She studies him for a moment. “Do you trust me to order for you?”

At this offer, Jihoon tilts his head. “Go ahead.”

Conversation is light. They play rounds of cards while they wait for the food. When Jihoon wins the last round of Shit Head, Jihyo and Seungcheol roll their eyes.

“You guys can’t win every game.”

She laughs. “You guys just aren’t good at games of speed.”

“Or strategy,” Jihoon adds with a smile.

Seungcheol stacks the cards as the food arrives. She leans towards Jihoon as she names the various foods before him. He’s pleasantly surprised at the range. There are foods that he will definitely eat, and a few that are out of his comfort zone but aren’t off-putting.

“So, what do you have to tell us?” Jihoon asks once everyone’s tucked in.

With his head bowed towards his plate, practically shovelling food into his mouth, Seungcheol answers, “We’re dating.”

Jihyo hits his arm.

“What?” Seungcheol lifts his head slightly to look over at Jihyo. “Did you want to make it a big deal?” He straightens up and looks at the couple across him. “We have decided that we are only going to see each other. Be exclusive.”

It takes a lot of effort to keep from laughing. Jihyo hasn’t had any other man over in the last month and a half. This isn’t surprising. The formal announcement is.

“That’s great.” Jihoon’s focus also seems to be on the food as opposed to the actual conversation. She nudges him with her elbow and he puts his chopsticks down. He mimics Seungcheol’s formality. “Seriously. This is excellent news.”

With a good-natured roll of her eyes, Jihyo meets Jihoon’s gaze. “The way you’ve committed, Jihoon, it’s really made us reevaluate.”

Jihoon furrows his brow at Seungcheol, but his friend won’t look at him.

Later that night, back in the safety of their apartment, Jihoon demands, “What the hell did you tell Jihyo?”

Seungcheol raises his hands in defense. “She asked me last month what my take on your relationship was! I couldn’t just tell her you were in it for a bet! I actually like Jihyo. I wasn’t going to tell her that your relationship was a façade. The only reason she decided to even give me a chance is because you’d been given a chance.”

Jihoon’s gaze could level mountains. “You straight up lied to her.”

“It was that or tell her that we bet on your relationship. You don’t understand how protective they are of her.”

Jihoon shakes his head in frustration. “What?”

“Byunggu?”

“Holy shit. What’s wrong with him? Isn’t he an actor or something?” Jihoon is almost tired of hearing about this ex-boyfriend.

“They threatened to ruin his entire career by blasting it on social media how awful a person he is. The girls have receipts. Even if your girl’s deleted all the messages and rid him from her life, her friends are holding onto them.”

Well, at least Jihoon knows the other man’s definitely not castrated.

“So, yeah, I lied a little about how real your emotions are.”

“Jihyo’ll be furious when she finds out!”

“What else was I supposed to do, Jihoon?” Seungcheol watches Jihoon begin pacing. “I like this girl. Genuinely want to make this work. Even if I only get a few months with her, it’ll be worth it to me. And if I can show her that I genuinely want to be with her in the time before we’re revealed to be the biggest assholes of all time, then maybe I can keep my relationship.”

Jihoon shakes his head in disbelief. “You and Soonyoung put me up to this bet. I told you guys I wanted to back out months ago.”

Seungcheol remembers that day. He was so sure that he would never be one to settle. At least not for years to come. “You can still back out. We can just give up, tell the others that your game isn’t as good as we thought it was. And if we end the bet now while everyone can get away relatively scot free, maybe we should.”

Jihoon shrugs.

Seungcheol catches his friend’s eye. “And I’ve seen the look on your face, Lee Jihoon. You have real feelings you’re scared to admit to.”

He rolls his eyes. “Did it not occur to you that I have to pretend otherwise this won’t work?”

“Whether you’re pretending or not anymore, I don’t know. But what I feel for Jihyo is genuine.”

Hansol (14:21)

You still on campus?

Late lunch?

It’s October and the air is getting crisper. She steps out onto the green with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She finds Hansol at the campus coffee shop. There are two sandwiches on the table, one for each of them.

“Seungkwan?” She slides her bag onto the floor next to her.

“Yeah. It’s one of the reasons why I wanted to have lunch.” He grins up at her, all gums and bright eyes. “I can’t eat two sandwiches.”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that Seungkwan gets upset when you don’t finish all your food?” She starts to eat and nods in his direction. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Hmm?” There’s a ball of food in his mouth and his questioning eyes make him look adorable.

Chuckling, she says, “Well, we’ve rarely eaten out without you asking me something.” She juts her chin in his direction. “What’s up?”

“I, uh…” His cheeks start to redden. “Have a question about a girl.”

Her brow furrows slightly. “That’s new. You’re usually pretty confident about that.” She chews a bit. “Shoot.”

“What made you decide Jihoon hyung was a good idea?”

She tilts her head.

“I have a reputation like hyung’s, but mine’s not real.” He studies the contents of the sandwich. “And I just… I don’t know how to convince her.”

“Ah.” After spending the last four months with the boys, she knows whose reputations are real and whose have been garnered by association. Hansol is the latter, not really dating all that much. The girls he pursues are particular, which must mean this girl he’s interested in is amazing.

“You could just tell her the truth.”

“Do you believe everything hyung says?”

She takes a bite, allowing herself some time to think through her answer. She decides that Hansol deserves her honesty. “Not at the beginning, no.” She lowers her sandwich and holds his gaze. “But a relationship doesn’t work unless you trust that the other person’s being honest. And it gets really tiring to second guess everything your partner’s saying.”

Hansol’s cheeks redden even more this time, the blush creeping up to his ears and down his neck.

“Have you lied to her already?”

Hansol’s eyes widen. His voice is tight, practically squeaking out, “What? No.”

She makes a face. “You’re blushing.”

“Oh.” Hansol’s brain scrambles. “I just… uh…” How does he avoid telling her that her relationship is a bet? “Talking about her makes me nervous.”

She lifts an eyebrow, impressed. It’s rare to see Hansol nervous or outside his comfort zone. “You must really like her.”

“Uhm… yes,” he fills his mouth with sandwich, “I do.”

“Then… just be honest. You’re not your reputation.”

Lettuce gets caught in his throat. “And she’ll just… buy that?” He coughs.

“If she’s smart? No. She won’t. But actions help. Prove to her you’re not your reputation. You’re a good guy, Hansol.”

Hansol stares at this woman who he has grown to like. Her company is great, she’s awesome at games, and her humour matches the group’s well. As conversation veers towards classes and research, Hansol can’t help but think about how the bet will end and how hurt she’s going to be. Four times over the next hour, his tongue almost slips. Almost letting out a secret that will definitely end her relationship. Not just with Jihoon but with every one of them.

She checks her watch. “I gotta get back to the lab. The NMR should be done now.” She slips out of her seat and pats his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“Are you coming for dinner tonight?”

She bends down to pick up her backpack, slinging it back over her shoulder. “It’s at yours, isn’t it?”

Hansol nods.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

As soon as Hansol walks into his apartment, he says to Seungkwan, “We need to call off the bet right now.”

Seungkwan has his pink apron on that the boys got him as a joke. “I’ve been saying that for about four months now.”

“Well, we really need to call it off.”

Seungkwan waves his spatula at Hansol, but his eyes fall to the iced Americano in his roommate’s hand and he calms down. “We both know that the guys aren’t just going to do that. Not when they know Jihoon’s this close to winning.”

“What?”

“Do you just ignore all of noona’s feelings? The look on her face when she looks at Jihoon hyung? She’s fallen for him already.” Seungkwan huffs and then takes a long sip from his drink. “It’s just a waiting game now.”

Hansol shakes his head as he heads to his room to drop off his things. “Tell everyone to come early. We need to talk about this bet right now.”

Hansol rarely asks for anything from the others, so when they receive his text, they’re there in thirty minutes.

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asks upon arrival. He slips out of his shoes, his eyes not leaving Hansol’s face. “Who’s dying?”

“We’re assholes and we need to call off the bet now.” Hansol grabs his hand to help him over the one step into the house. “If you guys want the money, I’ll give you the money. But I don’t want to see noona get hurt.”

Seungkwan counts heads. “Where’s Jihoon hyung?”

Joshua has his phone out. “He got stuck in the studio.”

Hansol immediately calls Jihoon. When Jihoon answers, he puts the phone on speaker and sets it in the middle of the small dining table.

“What’s going on, Hansol-ah?” They can hear a mouse clicking on the other end. “Dinner’s not for another hour. I can’t make it right now.”

“I want to talk about the bet and you need to be here.” Hansol leans closer to the phone. “Can we just call it off? Hyung, you already know that she likes you. And if she,” he glances at Seungkwan, “if she hasn’t fallen for you already, she’s falling now. So, can we just end this before anyone gets hurt?” Hansol tips his head both ways. “Or more hurt.”

“Yes!” Seungcheol pushes through to the front so Jihoon can definitely hear him. “Let’s call it off.”

The ripple of agreement through the group is comforting to Hansol, but everyone listens when Jihoon’s voice comes through again.

“You guys thought I was still faking it?” His voice is soft, vulnerable. He’s even stopped clicking around on the computer. “Guys, I,” he pauses, trying to bring himself to admit it, “I stopped faking months ago.”

Seungcheol slams his hands down on the table. “We got in a fight last month about this. What the hell are you saying?”

“You told Jihyo without consulting me first. I wasn’t going to tell you that you were right.”

Now, Jeonghan slams his hands onto the table. This second smack causes Jihoon to swear. “So, this is real? Lee Jihoon has a girlfriend?”

“Hanging up now.” They can hear the smile in his voice. “See you guys later.”

[amishfruit]

Lady of the Lake Ch. 2, Walk

full chapter on ao3

commissions/tips

Ahiru wakes up refreshed, stretching her lithe arms above her head and letting out a happy sigh. The house is quiet, but she can tell from where the sun is in the sky that it’s nearing time for breakfast so she gets out of bed.

“Oh, you’re already up.” He steps backwards to let her by and follows her to the table where their plates sit waiting for them.

She nods with a smile on her face, sitting down and quickly tucking into breakfast.

Fakir smiles back when she isn’t looking, enjoying his own meal more than he would without the pleasant company.

When she starts to feel full, she slows down between bites. “So, Raetsel is already at work?”

He nods, “She’ll be home again around supper time.”

“What does she do? I know she said it was a bakery but she wasn’t very specific.” Ahiru asks curiously.

“She helps some with the prep and finishing, but mostly she runs the front and handles the sales.” He explains it simply, hoping the words he’s using are familiar enough to her.

“Oh! So like, icing cookies and stuff?” Ahiru clarifies.

“Yeah… and stuff.” He agrees, not really knowing how to explain a job that he has never actually worked. “Do you still want to go to the library today?” He asks, changing the subject as they carry their plates to the sink and Ahiru begins washing.

She grins up at him where he leans with his back against the counter. “Yes please!”

He laughs at her enthusiasm, taking the clean dishes from her and drying them before putting them away. “Get your boots on,” He prompts, walking with her to the hall and entering his own room.

She quickly laces her shoes, meeting him back in the hallway where he slings a satchel over his head and holds it on his left shoulder.

“Ready?” He asks, walking to the door and waiting for her to answer before opening it.

Ahiru looks down at herself and runs through a mental checklist of all required garments, once she’s sure she has properly dressed herself, she nods and follows him out the door.

They don’t walk towards the stables and Ahiru secretly breathes a sigh of relief.

Fakir stops for her whenever she falls behind and matches her pace, the walk is no longer than 10 minutes and soon they find themselves at the door of a large building.

Holding the door open for Ahiru, he scans the room and finds the section they should start with. He leads her over to the archives, setting his satchel on a nearby table and showing her how to search through the papers. Once his notebook is set out with his quill and ink pot resting on top of the now empty satchel, he joins her in sifting through the collection of historical records. They look for mentions of memory loss, and Fakir also looks at victim reports, finding a few where the victim recounts a memory being blocked and struggling to answer questions from investigators.

The stack of papers grows tall and he suggests they sit and read through them before continuing. Ahiru agrees easily, wobbling slightly before depositing their finds safely on the table next to his things.

They sit side by side, perusing the papers one at a time.

Fakir takes notes on anything they find useful with the intent of referencing them later.

They continue like this for the next hour, library remaining mostly empty with the exception of occasional visitors that come in and out.

Around the time Ahiru starts to grow bored, someone clears their throat nearby and Fakir looks up from his notes, expression quickly growing exasperated.

“You missed your deadline.” The stranger says, voice haughty and more than a little bit annoying, “again. What’s your excuse this week?” They push their thin wired glasses up the bridge of their upturned nose as they say it.

Fakir searches his mind for a simple way to explain the events of the past few days. “Uh, family emergency?”

The stranger scoffs, flicking short navy hair out of their face. “I take it she’s involved?” They gesture towards Ahiru, who crosses her arms and shoots them a glare.

Fakir chooses not to answer, “I’ll bring the article to you tomorrow Autor, it’s not like I’m delaying publication.” He rolls his eyes, “Good thing you always set my deadline before anyone else’s.” Sarcasm laces his tone and the two men have a stare off, Autor breaking away first to turn to Ahiru.

Recognition lights up his face and he looks over at Fakir with a smirk before leaning his elbows on the table to address Ahiru. “You’re the one who walked out of the lake, aren’t you?”

She bristles, scooting back in her chair to create distance. “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

He sits across from her, earning a groan from Fakir. “I was there.” Autor shoots a look at her companion before continuing, “I bet Fakir wishes he were there with me to see it.”

It takes her a moment to grasp the connotation, turning bright red once she realizes what he’s implying. “You’re a total creep!” She hisses it in an attempt to avoid yelling, rage threatening to boil over.

Fakir is similarly angry, he grits his teeth and wills the burning in his face to subside, not wanting to give Autor any satisfaction from leaving him flustered.

Autor raises a brow, “Found yourself a real feisty one, huh Fakir?”

Ahiru lets out an angry yelp and stands up from her chair.

“Go bother someone else Autor.” Fakir grinds out.

“Yeah! We have better things to do than talk to you!” Ahiru adds, causing Fakir to wince from her less than ideal word choice.

Autor stifles a laugh, standing up from his seat. “I’ll leave you to it then.” His tone is amused and he winks at them as he walks away, leaving them to fume in peace.

“That guy is such an asshole!” Ahiru exclaims, too angry to sit back down and fists clenched.

Fakir snorts a surprised laugh, earning a confused glance from her that he waves off. “You are an excellent judge of character.”

Her anger subsides slightly and she slumps back into her seat. “Is he always like that?”

Fakir sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

She makes a sound close to a growl. “How can you stand him?!”

He shakes his head, “I barely tolerate him, he’s technically my boss so there’s not much else I really could do without losing my job.”

Ahiru pouts and crosses her arms. “Well he’s not mine, let me know if you want me to take care of him.” She punches a tiny fist into her other hand as she says it and he laughs again in response.

“I don’t think I’ll need you to defend my honor anytime soon, but thanks.” He looks down at her, amused. “Come on, let’s pack up and go eat lunch, I don’t think either of us will be able to focus now.”

She agrees easily, helping him carry the stacks of references back to where they had found them after he puts his writing tools back into his satchel and slings it onto his shoulder once more. She’s still irritated but the walk home helps her calm down and by the time they are inside taking off her boots she’s mostly back to normal. (...more on ao3)

[kanerallels]

Donicus Crossover ATLA (PLEASE ADD TOPH PLZ PLZ PLZ) Thank you!!!

It would be my honor-- here goes nothing lol!!!

Pairing: Marcus Lanum/Idony St. Claire

Word count: ??? I'm on mobile rn, I'll update this later. Somewhere in the 1000s

Tags/Warning: G rating (for glaring, at Marcus, from Noah). One minor injury and a little blood

Getting lost in Republic City was no joke. The place was absolutely huge, with a lot of streets and different buildings. It was also decidedly unhelpful when some people in your group (Berlyne, Apen and Noah) wanted to go watch pro-bending, while others (Marcus, Enel and Idony) wanted to find the library. (Chara and Joe were undecided.)

“I could have sworn we should have turned left back there,” Marcus muttered, studying the map he was holding. The whole group had paused on a street corner, and he and Apen were studying the map, trying to figure out where they were. Berlyne and Noah were nearby, mostly making unhelpful comments as Enel and Chara ignored the whole proceedings while excitedly pointing out parts of the city to each other.

As for Idony, she had her arm tucked around Marcus’s, her head tilted up towards the sunlight as she listened to the city. Marcus paused a moment to look away from the map at her, seeing the way the sun glinted off her golden curls and a soft smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

Then he saw Noah shoot him a glare, and hastily redirected his attention to the map, just as Apen shook his head. “No, we were supposed to go straight-- if that’s even where we are. I think we’re on this street.” He jabbed a finger at a different spot on the map.

“Impossible,” Marcus protested. “We passed the candy store on Main Street-- that was where we got off track in the first place because Enel was trying to drag us in there.”

“Yeah, and we went east instead of north.”

“No, we--”

Berlyne let out an exasperated sigh. “You guys have been arguing about this for the past ten minutes. Why don’t we just ask for directions again?”

“We don’t need them!” Marcus said, lifting the map. “I can figure out where we’re going. Now, where did we turn past the police station again?”

“I’m with Berlyne,” Irony said to Marcus’s dismay. “We should just ask how to get there. Enel!”

The copper-haired boy turned from the fire hydrant he and Chara were admiring. “Yeah?”

“Would you and Chara find someone who can give us directions, please?”

“On it!” Enel promptly darted out into the street with Chara on his heels. He’d barely made it two steps when Marcus heard someone shout, “STOP!!”

Chara froze, and Enel, who did not stop, slammed straight into the source, a tan-skinned young man around Marcus’s age. He had a ponytail, although his hair was shaved at the sides, and wore a blue tunic and pants and blue fingerless gloves. At his side he wore a long sword that Marcus recognized from his reading as a jian, and on his back was a strangely triangular-shaped sheath of some kind.

He squinted at Enel. “Oh. Good news, guys, he’s not actually on fire. That’s just his hair.”

“Which is exactly what we told you,” pointed out one of his other two companions. They were both girls around his own age-- one in green robes and armor, her face painted completely white, with red above the eyes and along her lips. The other girl was younger and a little shorter, clad in what looked to be a green jumpsuit of some kind, with a pale yellow overtunic. She was shoeless for some reason, and her bangs hung loose over her eyes, which-- Marcus did a double take-- were filmed over in a similar manner to Idony. Was this girl blind, too?

Shrugging, Berlyne said, “Well, it’s an understandable mistake when it comes to Enel.”

Enel shot her a wounded look as Apen blurted out, “Wait-- are you a Kyoshi warrior?” He was staring at the girl in white makeup, who looked surprised.

“I am,” she said.

“I’ve read about those,” Marcus said, his eyes widening. “Named for the mythical Avatar Kyoshi, who supposedly founded them. You’re made up entirely of women and wield weaponized fans.”

“I heard stories about you growing up,” Apen said, his eyes going glassy as he clearly slipped back to the past. “My si-- uh, people I knew hero worshipped you guys.”

“We’re honored, in that case,” the girl said with a smile. “I’m Suki. This is Sokka of the Water Tribe, and Toph Beifong.”

“Beifong? As in Lao Beifong, the business man?” Apen asked.

Folding her arms, Toph said, “No, as in Toph Beifong, greatest earthbender in the world. Get that in your head, short stuff.”

“Hey!” Apen looked offended as Toph whipped out an arm, pointing directly at Marcus.

“As for you, yes, I’m blind. Stop staring or I’ll throw you in the ocean. I have pretty great range as an earthbender, you know.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Marcus protested, and Sokka chuckled.

“First mistake-- Toph can sense when you’re lying.” Leaning over to Apen, he said, “She really is the best earthbender ever. Don’t tell her I said it, though, it would only go to her head.”

“I can hear you, bozo,” Toph said flatly.

“Oops.”

Swatting Marcus’s shoulder, Idony said, “Marcus! That’s rude! But-- you’re blind, too?”

“‘Too?’” Toph echoed.

“Oh, yeah-- Idony’s blind,” Enel said helpfully. “She’s with Marcus.” He punctuated the “with Marcus” by wiggling his eyebrows aggressively.

Choosing to ignore him, Marcus said, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just surprised--”

“Don’t care,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively, and Noah snorted.

“I might actually be starting to like this earthbender. Here’s a question-- can you actually launch someone into the harbor, and do I have to choose between Enel and Marcus?”

“Noah!” Idony said, irritation flashing across her face. “You’re not launching them anywhere.”

Noah grumbled something under his breath, and Berlyne snickered.

“Better luck next time. You’ll just have to do it yourself.”

“You two are my kind of people,” Toph said with a grin. “Okay-- wanna see something cool?”

“Sure,” Berlyne said, looking intrigued.

Taking a wide, firm stance, Toph took a long deep breath. Then, lifting one of her feet up, she slammed it back down into the pavement at the same time as she jerked her hands upwards. A spire of rock shot up out of the ground at Sokka’s feet, catapulting him into the air. He let out a yelp of horror. “TOPH! NOT AGAIN!!!”

Gasps of shock flew around the ground, but Suki and Toph seemed unbothered. With another earthbending move, Toph brought another spire of rock out of the ground, catching Sokka a few feet from the ground. He let out a grunt. “Ow…”

“You’re fine,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing’s even broken.”

“True. Maybe warn me next time you shoot me into the air, though?” Sokka suggested, sliding off of the rock formation and onto the ground. “And also please put our city’s streets back the way they were.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Toph grumbled, bringing the rock towers back into the ground. They disappeared seamlessly, and she shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t the Earth Rumble, but still fun.”

“Wait-- did you compete in the Earth Rumble?” Berlyne demanded, and Toph smirked.

“Please, I owned the Earth Rumble. All those pansies went crying home once I was done.”

“Technically also true,” Sokka agreed. “I was there.”

“Tell me everything,” Berlyne demanded, and Marcus released a long suffering sigh.

Looking at Suki, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give us directions? We’re trying to get to the library.”

“Pro-bending,” Apen corrected.

Grinning, Suki said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of them moved to the side as Sokka began to give a play-by-play of the Earth Rumble, with Toph occasionally re-enacting moves. Finally, they were fairly certain they had a route mapped out.

“Okay,” Marcus was saying, “so we turn right here--”

He was cut off halfway through as Toph’s latest earth bending move sent rocks flying in their direction. One cracked into Marcus’s temple, and he crashed to the ground with a yelp of pain.

He heard a shout of concern that was probably Enel’s, a snort of amusement that was definitely Noah, and then Idony called his name.

“Marcus!”

She was by his side seconds later, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, a gentle hand touching the side of his face.

His eyes lingering on her face, Marcus felt his heart rate pick up slightly. “I’m, uh, better now,” he managed. “Much better.”

A smile crossed Idony’s face. “You must have been hit hard to be flirting in front of my brother.” Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his forehead, and if Marcus hadn’t been seeing stars before, he was now. “That always makes it better,” she told him.

“Definitely,” Marcus agreed.

He heard a strangled noise from above them, and glanced up to see Apen pointedly looking away from him. “Uh, you okay?” he asked, a slight grin crossing his face.

“You’re way too entertained by this, aren’t you?” Marcus said with exasperation.

“Maybe a little.”

As Apen and Idony helped Marcus to his feet, Sokka came hurrying over. “Ooh, that looks like a nasty cut,” he said, and Marcus lifted a hand to his temple, feeling blood. “Tell ya what, we’ll have my sister Katara look at it. She’s an expert healer with her water bending-- DEFINITELY don’t tell her I said that.”

“Wait,” Apen said, his eyes growing even wider. “Your sister is KATARA???”

"The famous healer?" Marcus said, impressed.

Letting out a groan, Toph said, "If they start swooning over someone every five minutes, it's gonna be a long day."

"And they don't even know that Katara's boyfriend is the Avatar," Sokka observed.

"He's WHAT???" Apen gaped at them.

"Yup. Swooning," Toph said with a sigh. Shooting Marcus and Idony-- who was still standing very close to him-- a look, she added, "And that's not even the only kind of swooning around her."

Noah looked like he wanted to gag, and Marcus almost protested. But then Idony slipped her hand into his, and. Well. Toph wasn't exactly far off. And he definitely didn't mind.

[lovelysugawara]

LOVE ME AGAIN; special episode

(Missing him Badly)

Kuroo x OC

-

You wake up after you dozed off this afternoon, you are tired and it’s a good thing your daughter is so busy playing with her toys with her nanny. You look outside and it's already dark. You felt a bit cold. Then you remember you forgot to put the comforter and even forgot to set the aircon to low. You were so lazy to get up but you feel hungry and at the same time don't want to shower. And your daughter probably wants to eat together with you.

You should have showered at this time. Because at 6 pm your husband will arrive. But not today you think. He's been busy.

Kuroo Tetsuro, the president of the company who recently hit millions of sales in the world market. He is your husband who is currently MIA for three days now. He's not actually missing but he's not been home for days. He's been busy, trying to close a deal with Argentina and Brazil. You're okay with it on the first day but you're worried as days passed. He tends to forget to eat when he's into his work.

You looked at the clock on your bedside table, and it's already 7:15 pm. You got your phone tucked on your pillow and started to speed dial your husband's number.

"Hello, mam." a familiar voice of a woman once again answered your call.

"Is he still busy, Rei?" you asked.

"I'm so sorry mam, but the president is still at the online conference with the Brazil representatives. Do you want to leave a message so that I can deliver it to him later?" the kind secretary feels sorry and offers it to comfort you.

You sighed a bit heavy.

"Thank you, but just let him know I called again." This is your 5th call for the whole day, and you haven't got a chance to talk to him.

"Understood mam." The kind secretary says.

"Did he need something? Like a change of clothes, he's been there for 3 days now. Did he always eat on time?" you added, a bit worried about your husband who always so focused on his job.

"Don't worry mam, he always orders something for the team, he also eats on time. We even heard him muttering something like "I miss my wife's cooking" and he's in a bad mood when his work keeps filling up. We can really feel how he wanted to go home." She said as you both laugh at the man's silent complaints. You felt happy, despite your bad cooking, he still missed it. 

That made your heart feel happy.

"I guess he's still good. Just make sure he eats on time and just tell me if he needs something." You felt a bit relieved from what you heard from the secretary.

"Will do mam. I'll report it to you if he becomes stubborn and won't eat on time." the secretary makes sure about it.

You can't help but giggle a little, he got a good secretary. "Thank you so much, Rei. You too, don't skip dinner. Goodbye."

"Thank you mam, goodbye." and you end the call.

When suddenly Megumi runs towards you.

“Mama, let’s eat! Let’s eat!”

You laughs and you kiss her on her cheeks.

“Let’s go eat dinner then, baby.”

You stand up and walk hand in hand with your cute daughter.

***

To make the time pass after dinner, you started to fold some laundry and clean stuff. It's night time and only soft instrumental music surrounds your house.

Megumi is also busy “messing” with the clean clothes at the moment.

"Mam, where do we put these plants you bought?" your maid asked you.

"Just put it in the garden, for now, I'll fix it tomorrow." You said it while you folded some of your clothes and put it down on the bed. 

Even if you got 5 housemaids, you at least want to personally clean and wash your husband's clothes and stuff. Tetsu loves the fabric conditioner you used to wash clothes. He even stops using his perfume and it pains you because you love his musk smell. Very manly you may say. It adds to his sexiness. Thinking about that, you started to ponder how you miss your husband.

 ***

"Hey kitten, did you miss me?" he whispered to your ear.

"T-tetsu, don't come to me like that! You'll give me a heart attack." You said it as he hugs you from the back.

"Then how should I ‘cum’ to you?" he sexily whispered to your ear.

You automatically felt hot flowing to your body. He's making you turn on.

You felt your blush, remembering last week's happening.

 ***

Sex huh? It's been weeks since you guys did the thing. You can't hide it but you miss him. You miss him and his arms caging your small body, his hands cupping your face as he will deeply kiss you and make you his woman. Oh, you can't wait to see him again. You shake your head and put his jacket on your face, smelling him. Even though it's a new freshly washed cloth, it's still him. You really miss him.

***

8pm, and you haven't had anything to do. You eat dinner a little and after that, you go to your bed and open your laptop in hopes to see how your friends have been doing lately on Facebook.

You saw some familiar faces who are online.

Some are from the Karasuno volleyball team you befriended way back in high school. Some Nekoma High classmates and schoolmates and from Fukurodani High.

You can't hide your smile remembering some old sweet memories you had in high school.

With those feelings right now, it really makes your heart flutter just by looking at the photo frames that are inside your room. 

You look around and on the other side of the room is the Nekoma VC with you awkwardly standing next to Kuroo, your high school inter-high, your graduation and you and Kuroo's photo when you two are still dating, his proposal, and of course, your wedding picture. 

After your marriage, every day has been so happy and perfect. You really love him.

And finally your picture with you and Kuroo’s sweet girl; Megumi.

Megumi is already 5 years old right now, and she grows quite faster that you wish you can stop time so that she will remain your cute, little sweetheart forever. But you know that’s not possible.

“Mama, where is papa?” Megumi darted at the door.

“Hi sweetheart! Yeah unfortunately he’s still busy. Let’s wait for him for a bit okay?” You said as you sat down in front of her.

“But it’s been a week.” she pouted.

You even smiled seeing her this cute. If only Tetsu sees it, you think.

“Can’t he skip it?” Your daughter still insists.

“That won’t do, baby. Papa works harder for you.” You slightly pinch your daughter’s nose.

“But I miss him, mama.” she then pouts again.

You hug your daughter.

“I know. Me too sweetheart. But I’m sure he will come home soon. Because he missed you too.”

“Really?” She’s so cute asking you.

“Of course, because papa loves you.” and you kissed her on his forehead and she kisses you too.

 ***

The time is 8 pm when suddenly, your phone rings. Seeing the name on the screen, 'Hubby', you answered it so fast that you almost threw away what you were holding.

"Hello wife." a deep voice echoed on your ears. It's like that voice can make you calm and you even felt how sweet his voice is. You have to hold on to something so you can support your body, who yearns for him.

"Hey husband, I miss you. When will you come home?" you're smiling while saying husband. It's like you two are just newlyweds.

"I miss you too, wife. Few more and I'm done. I'll let them do the rest since I've done the crucial one. Did you have dinner? Want me to buy you something?" His sweet voice never fails to bring you to your happy place.

"Just come home straight, baby. Plus your daughter is demanding you to skip your work." You can’t help but laugh a little on your daughter’s demand.

You heard a little chuckled on the other line. As if you see him shift his body to the other side. “Is she? Haha, well I guess my little lady is the more demanding one than her mother.”

You laugh at his comment.

“I really wanna see you.” you actually made your voice a bit sexier.

You heard a deep sigh on the other line, and it was so manly.

"Me too, I really miss you." He emphasized the word you. And you know what he means.

"I'll buy you something, I know you will like it." You still have your smiling face and you know he's preparing to leave.

"Just message me if you change your mind and want something else, okay? I'll hang up. Be there soon, my kitten." And it's like a password, you really know he plans something when he calls you kitten.

"Okay then, I'll wait for you." You started to feel hot inside.

You drop the call. And after that, you started to run to the bathroom because you remember to haven't taken a shower. You didn't expect him to come home tonight anyway.

 All you knew is, you are happy and contented with your so called perfect world with your family. Your love for your husband and child will be forever.

END

***

A/N: Hello again!  I hope you guys like it, and yeah, I guess i can’t have the courage to post the R-18 version of this episode. Ahahahaha.  Yeah, i did try the R-18.

And I guess I’ll post it on my AO3 account. Thank you for reading, and have a great day! ^^

-

Taglist:

@dekuspet​ @mkkhaikyuu​ @captain-eagle-art​ @rozesarered @kurooloves @elianetsantana @saamsstuff @seijohsangel @i-vonsnyeeoj

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//general dating headcannons//

Characters: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Akaashi Keiji

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2K (~630 a piece)

Notes: kdhfesdkfje catch me getting carried away on Kuroo’s ope 0-0

Bokuto Koutarou

My literal husband ;-;

He’s such a sweet boyf oml hi yes, where do I order one?

Bokuto 100% dates to marry.  He’s not here for flings or anything like that, so your relationship will turn serious pretty fast.

Bo is a simp and no one can tell me otherwise, so when it comes to PDA? Oh, he’s C L I N G Y

He always wants to hold your hand or sometimes he’ll walk behind you and cling to your waist.  It’s definitely super hard for both of you to walk, but it’s adorable and makes him happy, so you’re not really going to complain.

If you hug onto his arm? He’s going to melt, especially if you trail your fingers up and down his bicep

It’s the same when the two of you are in private.  He likes to have contact with you whenever possible.  He’ll lay your head in his lap if you’re both laying on the couch or he’ll sit you in his lap and place little kisses at the base of your neck, right above the collar of your shirt.

His clothes are your clothes.  At this point, you wear his training jacket more than he does.  Sweatshirts? Flannels? Shorts?  That’s shared territory right there.

And my G O D does he love it.  He already has to buy bigger clothes because he’s got those wide shoulders, so his clothes tend to either fit you perfectly or completely swallow you, there is no in between.

If you’re thicc too? He has 100% stolen your leggings, just to see the appeal of them.  Please hide them, because oH he understands now.

He gets jealous jealous.  As in, he will place himself between you and the guy trying to talk to you and he’ll act all big and tough.  But the minute the other dude backs off?  Baby boy is back, wanting hugs.  He’ll kiss you all over your face and be really pouty, asking if you’re okay and telling you that he loves you ;-;

Bokuto hoots bye i don’t make the rules. Okay yeah i kinda do, but still.

It’s not like HOOOOOT, but like a really soft h o o and he probably kinda wiggles in his spot, real happy

Bo has N O control over how he sleeps.  He’ll always start out really normal, like you’ll be tucked into his side or something, but by the time you guys wake up? S T A R F I S H he is on his face, limbs covering the whole bed, just snoring away

When he’s away for games, he’s always on the phone with you.  Like, the guys will try to hang out or something and he’ll definitely go off to his room with a “Oh, I want to call Y/N before she goes to bed, but I’ll come by later!” 

And then he just doesn’t because he’s the one who fell asleep, not you.

Compliments the shit out of you.  You’re his hype man and he is yours.  He’s constantly telling you that you look beautiful or if you send him a selfie, he’s absolutely sending back the simp emoji, asking how he got so lucky.

He calls you ‘babe’ but usually only when he wants your attention or if he’s in another room and needs something, so expects lots of “Baaaaaaaaaaabe”s to be headed your way.

Other times?  He calls you by name.  Because there’s a million people who get called babe or sweetheart, but your name is yours, so it feels special and kinda intimate to him?  So, if he’s feeling a little extra sentimental, he’s going to bury his face in your neck and just whisper lots of quiet, “I love you, Y/N”s over and over again.

Kuroo Tetsurou

R O O S T E R H E A D A S S that I love very very much

He’s a complete dork and I know the fandom makes him to be some kind of smooth talking God I’m guilty of it too but-

He’s literally not.  He fumbles over his words so much when he’s around you.  You guys can be dating for years and he’ll still have his moments where he’s a stuttering mess in front of you.

Asking you out?  You suffered second-hand embarrassment.  His face was about as red as his jersey and the boy was so nervous, rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to look at you, but then just shyly raising his eyes to look at you and muttering,

“Do you maybe wanna go out sometime?”

INSTANTLY STARTS APOLOGIZING

“But- but only if you want, of course! Don’t feel like you have to say yes, I can take rejection!  I’m so sorry.  I probably made you really uncomfortable.  You know what?  You don’t have to answer.  I’m just going to go.”

He’s so shook when you say yes, but then immediately puts his cool guy act back on, like “psshh of course you do.”

I don’t see him being super into PDA or physical contact period?  There’s something really special about just being near each other to him.  Just accidentally bumping shoulders or brushing hands while the two of you stroll, talking about anything and everything.

Even in private, there’s not a ton of physical contact.  Maybe tangling legs together as you sit on opposite ends of the couch, but that’s really it.  He likes being in close proximity with you, but he doesn’t need to be touching you at all times.

But he’s down to cuddle if you ask.  He’ll let you lay on top of him and hide your face in his neck or his chest.  Sometimes you guys will talk, but most of the time?  Cuddle time = nap time

He doesn’t get super jealous, but he won’t hesitate to come stand behind you if some guy is trying to hit on you.  Kuroo will probably just play with your hair or make some kind of comment about how that bracelet he bought you looks really nice on you.  Just dropping subtle hints that you’re taken.

Afterwards, though, he just drops it.  It doesn’t really bother him.  He knows well enough that if you didn’t want to be with him, you would’ve broken up with him.  He just wants to be there in case someone tries to make you uncomfortable.

Gamenightgamenightgamenight

I’m talking like board games.  Hours and hours of just sitting at the kitchen table with a bunch of your guys’ friends, slowly ruining relationships, but overall having a good time.

Kuroo plays Dungeons and Dragons.  I’ve said this SO many times and no one is going to tell me otherwise.  So, if you show any interest in maybe wanting to play, or, better yet, if you already know how to play?  He’s bringing you to A L L of the future sessions.

He’s probably going to write your character into his character’s backstory, so when Dungeon Master!Kenma scolds him for playing reckless in order to protect you, Kuroo can retort with, “Well, actually, if you paid attention when I was telling my backstory, you would know- *insert long-winded backstory of how your characters know each other and how his character vowed to your character’s dying father that he would protect you etc etc*”

Kuroo is super into domestic life with you, so you guys probably moved in together as soon as possible.  As in, if you started dating in high school, you were sharing an apartment your first year of college. 

He just has a lot of fun doing little household things with you, like cooking, cleaning, or just enjoying quiet evenings together after all of the work is done for the day.

Kuroo said “I love you” first, but it took you both forever to say it, because you were both kind of new to this dating thing and you had always been told that it was a really big deal, so you didn’t want to rush that.

;-; please take care of my dorky rooster

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi is pretty easy-going in relationships, but he’s also super romantic.

As in, he has hand-written you love letters.  He’s got really neat writing too, so that just adds to their appeal.  Akaashi probably has a wax seal that he seals all of the envelopes with? I don’t know why, but he seems like the type of guy to have one.  

You guys have a book club, just the two of you.  Oh, it’s so cute.  It started as the two of you forcing each other to read your favorite books, but then, you guys ran out of books to share?  So, once a month, you guys will go to the local bookstore and just spend a good hour or two trying to decide what book to give the other next.  

Akaashi 100% always recommends classic novels.  Things like Sense & Sensibility, Fahrenheit 451, Lord of the Flies, and Brave New World am i saying that because that’s my favorite book? more likely than you’d think.

He’s a lot more prepared for these shopping escapades that you are.  He usually knows exactly what he wants to get you.  If they don’t have it?  That’s fine.  He has a list.

You on the other hand?  You’re asking the clerks what they recommend, reading the back of every book that seems like something he might enjoy, but you usually resort to dystopian novels (Never Let Me Go, Gone, The Handmaid’s Tale, etc), because he likes analyzing the politics and seeing how they could be metaphors for today’s world.  

Damn this really turned into me just recommending books huh

After you two pick out the selections for the month, you two coffee hop.  So, each month, you try a new cafe and you will spend hours just sipping coffee and reading.

He gave you a first edition copy of the first book that you recommended to him for your anniversary one year.  Akaashi wrote you a letter, telling you how happy he was to have spent so much time with you and that he can’t wait to share more books with you and probably some really poetic stuff, because he’s a good writer, but he hid it in your favorite part, so you don’t get to read it right away.  

Okay, now that I got that out of my head.  Like Kuroo, Akaashi isn’t super into PDA, but he does like to hold your hand.  He also always offers to carry your bag.

Akaashi likes to fidget with your fingers.  The two of you could be out or just hanging at home, but he’s playing with your fingers.  It’s just a habit for him.  He used to fidget with his own hands a lot, but now he’s got yours, so not only does he get to keep his hands busy, he gets to hold onto your hand

He doesn’t get jealous.  Or at least, you don’t think so.  He’s really good at hiding any sense of envy he might feel.  He doesn’t say anything.  He knows that you can take care of yourself, but he’s likely right there next to you, possibly playing with your fingers behind your back.

It’s a really chill relationship dynamic for the most part.  You two could be dating for a week and it’ll already feel like you’ve been together for years.  You guys just vibe really well, so there was never that awkward stage at the beginning of the relationship.  Likely because the two of you started off as friends, so slipping into dating wasn’t a very hard transition.

Akaashi isn’t one to say “I love you” a lot, but he really does love you more than anything.  He likes to take care of you and he tries to give you the best life possible and that says I love you more than any words ever could.

[acabecca]

“Say that you wanna be with me too.” JAS AND BUCKY

I have no idea what this is I’m sorry. I wanted to make it longer and set it during THAT episode of fatws but it didn’t make sense to me to do it, even as an au because apparently I am very fussy when it comes to Jas and Bucky 🙄

(also the picture is not what happens in the prompt i just like is lol)

(featuring a surprise cameo by mr steven rogers because my mind cant process that he might possibly be and is most probably the D word) this prompt is unnecessarily long i apologise

*

Pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head, Jas kept hold of the brightly wrapped present and nudged the car door closed with her hip. She heard more than saw the kids playing somewhere over beside the cabin, and she made her way over to place the box in her hands on the table that was already crammed full of gifts.

Pepper had clearly gone all out and so had everyone else, trying to overcompensate for Tony not being around. It was Morgan’s first birthday without him, and Pepper had opted to invite everyone around instead of the two of them spending it alone, trying to distract her daughter with gifts and friends and games so she didn’t dwell too much on the fact that her father would never be at another one of her birthday parties.

“It’s about time you got here.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m terrible at gift wrapping so I stopped by my aunt’s place so she could make it look pretty for me,” Jas patted the top of the gift and sent Sam a grateful smile as she took the bottle of water he handed to her.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, peering at the gift tag. “What’d we get her?”

Jas blinked. “We?”

“Me, you, and Bucky.”

“I’m sorry, was this supposed to be from all of us?” Jas’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who hauled my ass all over New York looking for the perfect present for baby Stark, and I don’t recall you or Bucky giving me any money for it.”

Sam groaned loudly. “Come on, Jas. I’ve been busy. I’ve been on a mission.”

“Yes, I know,” Jas nodded her head. “I was with you. I still made time to go shopping for a six year old’s birthday party. You’re terrible! Bucky didn’t get her anything, either?”

“It’s Bucky,” Sam shrugged his shoulders as though that was enough of an explanation and Jas rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to wave at Pepper, who wiggled her fingers in return before rushing back inside the cabin.

“Jasmine!”

Jas turned at the sound of her voice, grinning when she saw Morgan running towards her and crouching down just in time to catch the little girl as she flung herself forwards. “Hey birthday girl! Are you having a good day? Your mom’s done a lot, huh?”

“There are so many cupcakes,” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Too many to even count! I tried. Did you bring me a present?” she asked curiously.

“I did!” Jas laughed, turning around just in time to see Sam inconspicuously adding his own name to the bottom of the gift tag. “It’s from Sam, too, and Bucky. But you’re not allowed to open it until your mom says so, okay? I think we’re doing gifts later.”

“I know,” Morgan sighed. “She let me open one, though! Well…” she paused thoughtfully. “Clint snuck it to me and told me to open it before anyone saw. He got me a bow and arrow set and Lila is going to teach me how to use it, and Bruce got me a chemistry set so I can learn how to help him in his lab and stuff like my daddy did, and- did you know Bucky can pick me and Nate up with only one arm?”

“He can, huh?” Jas raised her eyebrows. “That’s awesome! Sounds like you’re having a great day, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” she paused again, biting down on her lip. “I’m going to go back to play with Nate, now. Bye Jasmine, bye Sam! Thank you for coming!” she called, sending a wave over her shoulder as she took off running towards the other kids.

“Good thing she got her manners from her mom,” Sam snorted.

“Hmm,” Jas hummed, a soft smile on her face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you adding your name on the gift tag. You add Bucky’s, too? You better had or he’ll feel like shit for not getting her anything. Where is he, by the way?”

“Sitting down by the kids with Steve.”

Jas almost choked on the sip of water she’d just taken and Sam slapped her hard on the back. “Steve?” she squealed, coughing and wiping at her mouth. “Steve, Steve? Steve Rogers, Steve?”

“You know another Steve who’d be here?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

“Steve is here and you give me a poxy bottle of water? Dammit, Sam! I need something stronger,” she groaned softly, screwing the lid back on to her water and, spotting the cooler sitting on the grass by the corner of the cabin, she made her way over to it and reached for a beer at the exact same time someone else did. Looking up as her hand connected with someone else’s, she mer a pair of familiar blue eyes and couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Hey, Buck! I hear you’ve been keeping Morgan and Nate entertained with your impressive strength,” she raised an eyebrow, unscrewing the cap off her beer and taking a long sip. “Have you been here long?” she asked, but Bucky didn’t reply.

Instead, he grabbed two bottles out of the cooler and straightened up, looking between Jas and Sam before sending her a tight smile and turning to walk back in the direction he’d come from, disappearing around the side of the cabin. Jas turned to Sam in bewilderment.

“What was that about?” she asked, but Sam avoided her gaze as he lifted his bottle to his lips. “Sam? He’s been ignoring me for days. What’s wrong with him, did I do something? I know you know something.”

Sighing, Sam ran a hand over his face. “Look, I don’t wanna get involved in whatever it is the two of you have got going on-”

“What?” Jas interrupted. “There’s nothing going on. What are you talking about?”

“Awfully quick on the defence there, James,” Sam smirked. “...I told him I wouldn’t say anything, and I’m not going to, but do you really not know what you did?” he asked, rolling his eyes when Jas shook her head. “Think back a bit. Day before we flew home, you were talking to your auntie. About Steve. About how they could never really replace Captain America, because he was irreplaceable.”

“Yeah…?” Jas trailer off in confusion. “But, I’m right. They can’t? They tried, and look how well it worked out. They’ll never find anyone like Steve.”

“They’ll never find anyone like Steve, or you’ll never find anyone like Steve?” Sam questioned, smirking when Jas’ face paled slightly.

“That- that’s what he- is that what Bucky thinks I meant?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“And- did you tell Bucky that isn’t what I meant?”

“I tried,” Sam shrugged. “S’not me he needs to hear it from. I’m not the one he’s got a thing for.”

“Shut up, he does not have a thing for me,” Jas grumbled, shoving at Sam’s face and feeling her cheeks heat up as he cackled beside her. “Sam!”

“What? You’re both too good at avoiding what’s been happening between you for months now and I, for one, am sick of it,” Sam pointed at himself. “I’m the one who has to sit in planes and in cramped apartments and shit with the pair of you and honestly? I’m done. I’m tired of it. We’re at a kids birthday party and the sexual tension between the pair of you is so unhealthy-”

“Sam!” Jas repeated, shoving at him again. “We don’t- that is not- there is none of that tension between us.”

Sam scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t want Barnes to bend you over and-”

“SAM!” Jas shrieked, darting forwards and covering his mouth with her hand, her whole face turning red when she saw the looks Clint, Pepper, and Laura were throwing her. “Jesus, I- okay. Alright. So what if I do? He’s never made a move, has he? So this whole thing is probably just all in your head.”

“If you’re waiting for him to make the first move then you’re gonna be waiting a hell of a long time, baby. He thinks you’re still hung up on Cap and he’s also a 106 year old emotionally constipated ex-assassin. You’re gonna have to be the one who moves in first, or it’s never gonna happen,” Sam told her gently, reaching forwards and taking her drink out of her hand. “You can start by telling him he got it wrong when you said Steve was irreplaceable. Maybe drop in a little ‘Sam was right and you should listen to him more’, maybe make my life a little easier in future.”

Jas paused, chewing on her bottom lip as nerves filled her stomach. This was not how she had envisioned today going. She’d been expecting a lot of laughs, maybe some tears because she hadn’t been out here since Tony’s funeral, good food and lots of drinks, and now she was seriously contemplating dragging Bucky - her best friend - away from everyone so she could apologise for a misunderstanding that had left him brooding for the last five days. She moaned, pulling her sunglasses off her head and running a hand through her hair.

“I can’t just go talk to him,” she whispered. “He’s… He‘s with Steve. I haven’t seen Steve since… everything. It’s rude if I just go and drag Bucky away from an old man-”

“Either you drag him away or I do. I’ll come with you, I’ll keep Steve occupied and you go talk to Bucky. I am literally being your wingman.”

“Living up to your name.”

“Shut the hell up and get your annoying ass over to your equally annoying boyfriend,” Sam snorted, turning her round and pushing her towards where he knew Bucky and Steve were sitting together. Jas let out a squeak and reached behind her to swat his hands away, laughed as she turned the corner and saw Bucky sat beside Steve on a bench in the shade, watching Morgan run around with some of her friends.

Steve spotted her first and he sent a small, unsure wave. Jas smiled softly in reply and tucked her hair behind her ears, her sunglasses perched atop her head again as she came to a stop in front of them.

“Uhm, hi. Bucky, can I talk to you for a second?”

He looked up, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure.”

“Uh,” Jas glanced at Steve. “In private, maybe?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m just in the middle of talking to Steve.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, Buck,” Steve looked between the two of them, a somewhat knowing look on his face. “You should go with Jas.”

“But-”

“I’ll sit with Gramps, don’t worry about it man,” Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder, not-so-subtly nudging Bucky out of his seat and forcing him to stand up. Huffing, Bucky placed his beer down on the grass and gestured towards the cabin. Jas nodded her head and followed after him, turning to shoot a glare in Sam’s direction when he called a quick “good luck!” after them.

Following Bucky inside, Jas glanced around the cabin, her eyes lingering on the picture above the fireplace, a selfie that Tony has clearly taken of himself, Pepper, and Morgan. Clearing her throat, Jas blinked rapidly as she tried to keep any tears from falling and ignored the way Bucky was watching her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you know, it’s just…” she waved a hand towards the picture and Bucky followed her gaze, frowning as he nodded his head.

“We don’t have to stay in here,” he told her. “We can- come on,” he pointed towards the kitchen and Jas trailed after him, coming to a stop by the breakfast bar as Bucky against the worktop opposite her, his arms crossed over his chest. “So uh, you wanna talk?”

“Yeah, I- listen, I didn’t- what I said, about Steve being irreplaceable?” Jas began meekly, and Bucky screwed his eyes shut as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m gonna kill Wilson’ under his breath. “I think you took it the wrong way.”

“Jasmine, it’s- I- it doesn’t matter-”

“No it does!” she insisted quickly. “It does matter, Buck, because I didn’t mean it the way you think I mean it, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t- I didn’t mean that you’re not…” she paused, trailing off nervously. “You know you’re important to me, right? And I guess I don’t want you to think that there isn’t room in you for life because of my past with Steve, because that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky’s whole face was screwed up, his expression something Jas couldn’t decipher and she almost groaned when she realised he was obviously annoyed by something she had just said.

“You think I want to be a replacement?” Bucky asked carefully. “You think I want to take Steve’s place in your life?”

“No! I mean, I… I don’t know?” Jas replied meekly. “Maybe? I thought you were-”

“I want my own place in your life, Jasmine,” he cut in. “I don’t have any intention of being a replacement for anyone, especially not Steve. I know I could never replace him,” he gestured towards the kitchen window, where they could see Steve and Sam both sat outside of. The two men quickly looked away and Bucky rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose at his friends making it painfully obvious they were listening in. “I see Steve never learned how to be subtle in his old age.”

“Nope,” Jas bit back a smirk and Bucky sighed, grabbing hold of her arm and leading her away from the window. “Look, I thought maybe we - you and I - I thought that maybe there was something happening? That there was something here between us. Am I wrong?” he asked cautiously. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I’ll stop. I can just be your friend, I don’t need or expect anything else from you, not even your friendship if that’s something you don’t want-”

“…Bucky-”

“I want to be with you, Jasmine,” he admitted, his voice low and his cheeks a little bit pink. “I do. I have for a really long time. And if you say that you wanna be with me too, then great! I can take you out on dates, we can get to know each other beyond friendship. But if you don’t? That’s okay, too. Whatever you decide. I just need to know where I stand,” Bucky kept his gaze on her, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest he was sure Jas would be able to hear it. When she didn’t say anything, his stomach sank and he frowned. “Okay, that’s fine, we can forget that I said anything and-”

“No, wait!” Jas gasped, reaching out and grabbing his arm as he began to turn away from her. She tugged him back towards her, standing on her toes and quickly pressing her lips to his. It was a quick kiss, over in a few seconds, and Bucky had barely had time to respond to it before Jas was dropped back down on her toes and clearing her throat awkwardly, her face red. “Sorry, I… I was processing. I’d really like to go on dates with you, Bucky.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Good. That’s… That‘s good. I’d like that.”

“Bucky.”

“Yeah?”

“You gonna kiss me or am I gonna be the one doing all the heavy lifting in this relationship?” Jas raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled, slipping an arm around her and pulling her towards him. He leaned in closer to her, before freezing and looking at her with a furrowed brow. “What is it, Barnes? Did you change your mind already?”

“You don’t still have feelings for Steve, do you?”

“No!” Jas pulled a face. “Bucky. He’s old. Like really old.”

“So am I!”

“Yeah but he looks old.”

“Wow, never had you down for the shallow type, Jasmine.”

She groaned. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay,” Bucky hummed, finally closing the gap between them and doing as she asked.

Outside, Sam beamed as he peered through the window before he held his hand out to Steve, who sighed and begrudgingly shoved $20 into his waiting palm.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you talking to her, Sam,” Steve grumbled. “You hustled an old man.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled widely, stuffing the money into the pocket of his jeans. “I did.”

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @mer-writes @foxesandmagic @ohmansebastianstan @chlobenet @jewelswrites-ish @lukespatterson @ocappreciationtag @marveloc-hq (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

U should make a fic based on cannibal hoodie love story. Even if it is just in ur head 👀 [also, you're great <3] -AmazingAnon

One completely regular afternoon in Lawrence, Kansas, Dean comes back from a milk run wearing a hoodie Cas has never seen before.

Which is strange, because Cas always believed he was prompt enough about going through Dean's stuff.

So, offended at this blatant disregard for his feelings, and subtle shade at his efficiency, he fixes a frown on his face and waits for Dean to enquire about it as he crosses him in the library.

He doesn't.

And that's when Cas begins to suspect something's wrong.

*

The hoodie doesn't come off all day.

Not when he's researching, and not when he's also wearing a kitchen apron with it, and not when he's washing dishes. Cas stays behind to help him with the latter though, and is determined to ask about whatever is up, but Dean leads the conversation in a different direction.

"You know what the best thing about being in love is, Cas?"

Cas has a few guesses.

Also, he shakes his head.

"It's that you," Dean obliges, a spark of something unusual in his eyes. "Can never get enough of each other."

Cas stills.

Did Dean know?

After all, he'd stayed back to find a way to bring up the hoodie in conversation, in spite of being — and he's quoting Sam here, easily the less prone to insulting metaphors Winchester — "the worst at washing dishes since a cat with a water hose."

Could this mean —

Oh, crap.

"Doing a really good job on that spoon there, buddy." Dean cuts into his thoughts — because when has he not — with an easy grin. Cas looks down at where he's been aggressively wiping the item. "Think you're ready for a second spoon?"

Cas blushes, not wholly cause of the spoon comment either.

Dean knew. Dean knew.

"Maybe even a bowl?"

Cas picks one up obediently, ignoring the pit in his stomach.

"And maybe if we're feeling adventurous, even a plate or three?" Dean adds, wiping his hands on a towel having finished washing the dishes. Cas tries to look for him wiping the remaining few drops after that on his shirt — but he doesn't.

Instead, he tucks his hands into his pockets — probably better to call it one large pocket, though. Those have always fascinated Cas — and flashes one last grin at Cas before leaving for his bedroom, and leaving Cas stranded with wet dishes and plaguing doubts.

Typical.

(But, was it?)

*

Later — actually, much later than the probably expected later — when Cas is passing by Dean's bedroom en route to his own, he hears a sound that makes him plaster himself to the door, straining to listen harder.

It's a giggle.

Then, for a long time, nothing.

And finally, right before Cas gave up being patient — he was only human now, wasn't he — there's another breathy voice. Definitely Dean, but unlike anything Cas has ever heard the hunter say.

"Stop!" More laughter. "It tickles!"

Cas blinks.

How —

"Oh, you."

There it was, the lyrics of Cas's despair. And apparently, the chosen phrase of Winchester endearment.

Cas sighs sadly, and walks away.

Dean has a visitor.

Dean knows, and he has a visitor.

Cas can just ask about the incriminating hoodie in the morning.

*

Turns out that's a bad idea.

Because next morning, Dean is nowhere to be found.

It's after eleven am that Sam starts to fret, complaining about Dean's sleeping (and bingewatching through the night) habits at Cas over a bulky book of witchlore — he just nods sympathetically for his part — and it's pushing noon when he gives in and goes to storm into Dean's room.

"Sam," Cas interjects, suddenly realizing he may have some information that helps. "Dean had had a visitor last night."

"A woman?" Sam frowns.

And Cas may have been gender neutral in his statement but Sam was probably right anyway.

"Maybe."

"In the bunker?" Sam bristled, mostly to himself, marching towards Dean's room with renewed irritation. Cas follows, somehow feeling responsible.

They barge in, expecting a passed out Dean, and perhaps a passed out another person — woman, he means woman — and find neither.

"But the Impala was in the garage." Sam sounds like he's leaning into the worried area on the scale of irated to anxious. "And he's not in the kitchen, or the gym, or the bathroom."

Cas shifts closer to Dean's bed, ignoring Sam's commentary.

"And I think he's past keeping hunts secret, just because they're 'risky'." Sam wonders aloud, putting on his worst Dean impression at the end. "So unless he's somehow busy allying with an old, all-powerful, morally ambiguous cosmic being, he'd have told —"

Cas reaches Dean's side, and gently pulls off the blanket.

"And it's not like he'd go anywhere without his car anyway," Sam keeps going, brow furrowed. "Also I've been home for a few hours now, I'd have seen him leave. Hey, you think we should check the —"

Sam freezes, mouth agape as he sees Cas sat on Dean's side with tear filled eyes, clutching a hoodie in his lap.

"...Cas?"

As a way of responding, Cas lifts the blanket and reveals his findings.

It's Dean's pyjamas, and what seems way too much like Scooby Doo boxers — rumpled, but laid on the bed as if worn by an invisible (bodyless) creature.

Sam clears his throat. "I — Cas, what is happening —"

"Don't you get it?" Cas bellows at him, with almost all the fierceness he's been lacking the past couple of weeks. "It's the hoodie! It always has been the hoodie!"

"Still don't, uh." Sam hesitates. "I still don't get it, Cas."

Cas looks up painstakingly and draws in a breath to compose himself. It works, apparently, because he has no trouble deadpanning the following to the younger Winchester. "Dean was in love with it. Also, it could probably tickle."

Sam blinks.

"Also, it ate him."

There's a pause.

"I'm not supposed to laugh, am I?"

"Sam Winchester, your brother has been eaten by a sentient cannibalistic hood —" Cas starts, but Sam's already dissolved into laughter before he's finished with his sentence, so instead he scowls darkly, and looks back at the (ridiculously soft) evil in his hands.

And starts to plot a save-and-avenge plan.

He wouldn't let the hoodie win.

[beauregard-s]

Verdigris | Bill Denbrough

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (18 yo in this one)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mild hate-to-love trope and mentions of cheating and toxic relationship

A/n: ‘The one with Baseball Player!Bill and the song Verdigris by Gus Dapperton’

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He can’t stop watching you. 

At the bowling alley on a Friday night. Your arms crossed, a hidden smile on as one of your friends rolls the ball and misses the pins miserably. You probably had a night off, or else you’d be at the arcade trying to tame the thirteen-year-olds that keep fighting over the Pac-Man machine. 

Bill can’t stop staring and it’s annoying beyond belief.

“For fuck’s sake, Bill! Are you playing or not?”

He’s forced to drag his attention away from you under Richie’s hiss only to perceive how everybody is staring at him - except for Ben checking on his shoelaces after tripping on them at least twice already. The looks range from Richie’s pissed one, to Mike, Beverly, and Eddie’s confusion, and laying on Stan’s impassivity.

“I just puh-played two rounds ago, Richie, stop m-mah-messing the order,” he complains, yes, but stepping up and grabbing himself a ball is the same as calling his own bullshit.

His move is absent anyway, only hits three pins because he backs off as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, making room for Ben to go next. Standing more in the back so he can turn his head in your lane’s direction again, all the way across the alley.

Only in time to watch you striking for the second time that night.

Only in time to catch how your eyes automatically fly in his direction right after that.

It’s quick, just a few seconds before you turn away again like at school two - or three? - weeks before, when you shouted out loud in a hallway about how you were cheated on, a thing many girls would hide, never talk about and pray for it to never come up. But you didn’t. When Henry Bowers leaned by your locker and probably tried to slide in some smug explanation, you shut the metal door so loud people around turned their heads and others who didn’t hear it from the first time caught on what was happening as soon as you told him to go ‘get his dick wet with Anna Thompson from now on’.

That being said you stormed out, and your eyes met his because he was frozen in a trance not perceiving at first he was blocking your way.

He couldn’t call you a bully, but nor could he call you an angel. You were Bowers’ girlfriend for quite a while, never messed with him but was never smooth either. You always stood neutral about Bowers tormenting him, almost bored, he noticed. Maybe uncomfortable with the situation if he overthought on that?

Never mattered. Bill recognizes he doesn’t know much about you, never got interested in doing so. Never needed to. You are just y/n, Henry Bowers’ blessed girl - because, thinking about it, yes, someone must be somehow holy to endure that one. Y/n, who he thought that barely minded him but still locked eyes and seemed to flash him a very inconspicuous smile that brought him back to Earth and made him move aside to let you walk into your 6th period class.

Y/n that since then started to hover above him like a little bird of prey, keeping those secretly mischievous eyes on him whenever they shared the room. Driving him insanely curious to find out what all of this is about.

“I swear to God, Big Bill!” Richie cries out in frustration, clapping his hands together in a desperate try to get his attention, “it’s your turn again!”

***

“Homealone again?” Stan asks while buckling up on the driver's seat after leaving the alley almost forcefully when the place closed, Mike’s horn breaking the late-night silence as he leaves to take Ben and Bev home.

“Yeah, for the weekend.” Bill sighs, sinking into the seat and smirking. “Why? Wanna throw a p-party?”

Stan snorts in the dark, turning the keys for the headlights to break through the darkness ahead. “Not after the last one,” he starts the car and leaves while Bill recalls the last party they went to. The party where around 1 am everybody started gossiping about how someone entered a room without knocking and... 

“Y/n l/n, then?”

Bill moves uncomfortably. Of course, the party where everybody found out you were cheated on before you could do it yourself. Stan Uris really sees everything, knows everything, and perceives everything. And also have the gift of smoothly leading people into the point he wants to get to.

“I don’t think so,” Bill says. 

Stan swirls the steering wheel to the left into a quiet street, suffocating another laugh. “So you’re telling me you were not perving on her the whole night.”

“I wasn’t p-puh-p-perving!”

“No!” Stan’s laugh finally comes filled up with irony. “At the bowling alley, at school, whenever she shows up during practices and her great presence disturbs you to the point you miss the pitches… Since she broke up with Bowers, whenever she’s around your mind goes wasted”. Bill grimaces and he goes on. “And judging by tonight, she seems to be at the same place as you are.”

“She’s not at the same p-place as I am because I’m not at any p-place, Stan.” Bill sticks his arm out of the window into the cold breeze, feeling something boiling inside him. That annoyance again. “She’s been teasing me since she broke up with her dear b-boyfriend, it’s all.”

Stan slows down at a crossing, making a snap noise with his tongue. “How convenient, no?” Bill scowls, eyes off the road to look up at his slightly raised brows, and he goes on, “Bowers’ girl gets cheated on and then starts flirting with you, Bill Denbrough. The guy who had his lip split open by those fists more times than we could actually remember.”

“Tell me about it…” Bill’s voice barely comes out as he watches the stores slowly turning into houses with dark windows and faded front porches, trying to smother that burning feeling inside. 

“And you’re playing her game,” Stan adds calmly.

Bill snaps his neck towards the driver's seat again but Stan only shows that same impassivity from earlier, eyes solely on the road. “Don’t tell me you’re not, because you are. I saw it tonight. Besides it, we all know you’re that sucker for unbecoming stuff.”

Bill shakes his head, gnawing on his cheek in bitterness as the car stops in front of a two-floor house and Stan turns the keys, sending them into silence and darkness again, turning on his seat to face a skeptical Bill unclasping his seatbelt harshly.

“I am not. I wanna f-find out what game is she p-playing b-but I’m not playing it myself.”

“Okay,” Stan taps onto the wheel, grinning in his disbelief because he knows Bill well enough to know he may sound like he has his foot down when he’s in fact as unsteady as sand. “But she could put you in big shit trouble, you know?”

Bill gets out of the car, leaning into the window as soon as he closes the door, drawing a cockish grin. “Yeah b-but, again, I’m not playing her game, Stan.”

He assured himself that, even though his mind wanders towards you until he goes to sleep and even though you remain there when he wakes up Saturday morning. 

He’s not playing your game.

But you’ve been testing his limits, slowly getting under his skin somehow with so little effort. Catching his attention when he doesn’t want to give it to you. You’re guaranteed trouble and he hates how you leave him restless whenever you are out of his sight and trouble his mind whenever you are both sharing space.

But he’s not playing your game.

Yet he still finds himself waiting outside the arcade later at night, at a discreet distance with his hands tucked in his jacket’s pockets to keep them from freezing under the fall weather. Bill watches you leading the last kids outta the place, promising an upset little guy they’ll be open early the next day too and turning the sign hanging on the glass door as soon as they leave to warn everyone the place is finally closed. The sweet way you talked to the kid doesn’t match the troublemaker image he painted of you in his mind throughout the day.

He’s not playing the game, but he’s ending it before he goes insane. Being a chess piece is not on his plans. He doesn’t know where you’re going with all of that so he walks into the store, immediately catching your attention.

You’re checking and closing the cashier when the noise makes you look up from behind the counter only to find the surprisingly-not-so-popular pitcher of the Derry High School’s baseball team standing there in between the flashing machines. 

“Hey there, Denbrough,” you say softly, bringing your attention back to the dollar bills. “We’re closed.”

He taps his foot, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say because even though he planned talking to you the whole day, suddenly he feels lost and vulnerable under that nonchalant way of yours. 

“I know, I didn’t come to play.” Bill feels proud of how steady he sounds although he’s clenching his hidden fists. He has the slight impression you are not as confused as you seem when you eye him again. This time deeper. 

“How can I help you then?” 

He thought he had a solid plan, but he doesn’t at all. All he can think of is how did Bowers get you? A straight A’s girl with such sweet talk, pretty face, and bold demeanors. 

“You can help me by stopping m-messing around.” There goes his steadiness through the window, every single drop of it when your lips give him a lopsided smile, closing the cashier and pulling a bunch of keys out of a drawer.

“And what do you mean by messing around?” you walk around the counter and passing by him because even though Bill Denbrough is standing in front of you straight out of a dream in his stupid letterman jacket, a robbery wouldn’t be welcome and you gotta lock the doors and close the curtains. That blocks all the light from the outside, sending both of you into a gloom only lightened by the neon lights around. 

“I mean all the flirting you’re doing.” His voice deepens a tone. “ I want you to stop it.”

He looks adorably anxious, of course. All fidgety when he’s trying to confront you that way but flinching when you turn on your heels to face him, his hands still in his pockets for what? Hide his nervous manners?

Not that you’re that secure yourself with your sped up heart. You wish you had pockets too so you could hide how you poke a cuticle on your thumb.

“I’m not flirting with you,” you say simply. “I know you’d like that, but-“

“You wish, l/n” he hisses and you know you’ve hit a weak spot. Also not that you didn’t know said weak spot exists.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not getting in trouble for it.” Bill steps closer, letting his sweaty hands finally fall to his sides. 

“Again, I’m not the one messing around” You see his jaw clench, and go on leaning back against the Donkey Kong machine. “You are.”

Bill snorts and the way he runs his fingers through his auburn hair messing it in frustration makes things to you. Yes, Bill Denbrough in his lettermen jacket is stupid… stupidly hot, even if you hate admitting that.

“I’m n-not-“

“Are you sure?” You defy him, resting your hands on the machine and accidentally hitting the joystick. “So you’re telling me you’ve not been leering me around, casually hanging out with your friends by my locker or… Following my ex-boyfriend around to make sure he’s not coming close to me, Bill?”

Touché. 

You never called him ‘Bill’ before, but thought it would match the soft-turn your voice takes and the little ‘got you’ move you just made. Bill thinks it raises a level. He said he didn’t come to play, but it feels like he did and now he’s losing because you know something you shouldn’t. 

You know last Tuesday he followed Patrick Hockstetter’s car because he saw them harassing you when you were walking home after school. He watched when they pulled over by the sidewalk, Bowers leaning out through the window and saying something that made you argue with him for a while before you kept walking and they drove out. Bill should’ve turned right and drive home, but he turned left and followed them instead, made sure they went home and not after you. 

“I was just trying to m-muh-make sure you were safe,” he reasons but inside he’s recognizing his failure.

Maybe you’ll call him a creeper for that? No, you just bat your eyelashes.

“You really have an unforgiving hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex.”

He does. And maybe an unforgiving crush too because he realizes you’re not the one hovering here. He is. He always thought he never paid attention to you but he did all the time in the deep of his head, dreary by the fact that you ended up with someone like that disgusting jerk.

“A hero complex and a huge neglect towards yourself, apparently” you bicker, the changes in his mind showing briefly in his expression.

“Okay, I m-may be the one m-messing around but you don’t seem like you’re trying to run from it.”

The others have already warned Bill about that, his lack of fear and his broken anti dumbness filter, mainly Beverly, but there he is again. Making dangerous, uncalculated moves, totally improvising his next step to avoid a checkmate from you.

He’s kinda angry, maybe embarrassed, eyes locked on your as he comes closer. You don’t answer because he got a point. From the moment you noticed Bill paying more attention to you after you were publicly free from Henry, you never intended on cutting him off. You fed the fire and now, with his eyes so deep in yours and the smell of his cologne all around you, you let him taste a bit of power to decrease that embarrassment of his. 

“Are you trying to imply that I want you too?” You whisper, no need to talk louder with his chest an inch from yours like that. 

He likes how beautiful you look like that, face shining in verdigris tones flashing from the next machine, the way it turns you into neon pink and back to the blueish-green. He likes how daring you look even if he’s towering over you, inches taller, little knowing how you’re putting on a fight to keep yourself solid and your thoughts in place. Without much success when he leans in and brushes his chapped lips along your soft ones.

“Again, you wish, l/n.”

The previous moves were yours but in a turn, you’re the one getting the final checkmate when you give in and pull him into a kiss. A greedy and heated kiss that showed how you’ve been craving each other. Bill presses against you as he’s trying to challenge the laws of physics, his tongue licking into your mouth as your hands clutch on his thick jacket, feeling his broad shoulders underneath. His hands cup your face, his thumbs gently tracing up your cheekbones in contrast to how roughly his lips take yours, only for a moment before his arms embrace your waist and he smugly slides a large hand into your jeans’ pockets.

He swore himself he wouldn’t play your game, but he feels like he did and just lost it when he leaves your lips and trails the tip of his nose down your neck, feeling how you softly quiver in his arms, breathing in your perfume. Pulling away before everything goes to waste.

“As I said, totally n-not running away from me,” he mutters, leaving you. 

You shake your head slowly, a mazy little smile glued on your lips. “Screw you, Denbrough…” But the words drip out like honey to him as he walks backwards towards the door. 

Bill turns the keys still in the lock behind his back, flashing a cocky grin at you as he pushes the door open. He feels defeated, you do too but somehow none of you regret what just happened in the empty arcade. He can see you don't by the way you look at him as he leaves. It’s not just one of those glances anymore.

He feels defeated, but maybe it will be worth it.

“S-see you later, y/n.”