#i always say i wish i had a more feminine body but today i caught myself thinking like

[badcountryofficial]

Be honest does the "I don't need T because I have This Sweater" sound like copium

[imthebadguyyy]

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

[bvccy]

Hi!!! Hope you're doing great

Can I please have a mix between number 2 from the soft and 8 from the dark one

Thanks, lost of love ❤❤❤

Thank you so much, nonnie! I am so sorry this took so long, I meant to post yesterday but it wasn’t done. Also, the 8th dark prompt was requested just before you sent in this one, so that is filled separately here.

I tried to do the mix you asked for, and I took the liberty of writing this with Bucky (specifically 40s!BB), and I hope that it’s ok. It’s a bit of a more specific story, actually, that I’d wanted to write for a while. I also did a kind of first for me, because it involves Steve x reader as a backdrop 😂 Anyway.

Lots of love to you too, my dear! 💗💗💗

— PAIRING: soft!dark!Bucky x Reader • preserum!Steve x Reader — PROMPT: Asteria - gazing at one’s object of affection, from afar + Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

It had taken long enough, and sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but he finally found Steve a girlfriend — or rather, his girlfriend found him one. Dottie had exhausted several of her close friends and most acquaintances, but she knew how tired Bucky was of seeing his friend mope around, feeling like a third wheel, getting into trouble to pass the time. And honestly she liked Steve too, just not like that — but, wonder-worker that she was, Dottie found a girl that did.

She agreed to come on a double-date one night, and she and Stevie hit it right off. It was the first time Bucky met her too, and he didn't think much of the girl. Small, shy, not quite sickly-looking but not far from it, shoes a bit scuffed, clothes a bit too big for her and smelling of plain soap — in a word: perfect. She was perfect for his sickly, skinny friend who nobody else wanted, and by the looks of things, nobody had wanted her either because she seemed to have no idea what to do around a dance hall. As they were returning home that night, he even heard her confess to Steve that she had never been to one before.

They went out on two more dates, all four of them, within as many weeks. Bucky loved to dance, and Dottie too, but Steve and his girl weren't so fond of tripping over their feet and being laughed at. So they sat together at the table like a pair of broken toys, sharing an ice cream sundae, swinging shoulder-to-shoulder with the music when they liked the tune. Bucky waved at them when their eyes met, and they waved back and cheered at his dancefloor performance, but that happened less and less as they got caught up in each other. Steve would start to sketch things on the napkins while they chatted: the band, the sea of dancers, the fancy chandeliers, and eventually her.

"She said nobody's ever drawn her picture before," his friend said dreamily as they walked back, after they wished a good night to the girls. "Can you believe that?"

"Sure can…"

"She almost didn't let me do it. But she's so pretty, Buck."

"Mhm, nice girl."

"I mean yeah, she's no Dottie, but… I don't know, there's just somethin' I like so much about her… I guess her eyes, the way they look when she's smiling, or how her hair looks when the sun shines on it…"

"Get a load a' you," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder in a playful grip that moved his friend's whole body. "One dame's sweet on you, and all of a sudden you're Romeo."

"At least I'm not a punk like you," Steve teased, slipping from his grasp.

"You know what I like best about her?"

"What?" he asked, with a hint of jealousy.

But Bucky smirked without a care. "How she keeps you out of trouble."

It had, indeed, been a while since Steve got in an alley brawl, and by their fifth date his last few bruises healed. He'd almost gotten into one by a cotton candy stand at Coney Island, but his girl was there to pull him back.

"Stevie, leave him alone…"

"You heard what he said?!"

"Who cares," she sighed, clinging to his arm and throwing the other man a hateful look. "Come on, didn't you want to win me that stuffed teddy bear?"

"Better listen to your girl, pal."

"Oh go find a sty to wallow in," she hissed.

"I ought'a smack some manners into you, you two-bit broad!"

"I'd worry about my own manners if I were you, buddy." Bucky slipped between them, coming from behind, standing now close enough to punch the guy if things got heated. But, seeing himself outnumbered, the other man cursed them and left. Just then, Dottie finally caught up.

"What's going on?" she asked, a little out of breath.

Bucky turned around, and was met by the heart-melting sight of Steve and his girl holding each other, her hands on his cheeks as she quietly chastised him, but loving enough that it made him smile and giggle. She closed it with a kiss to his cheek that made the boy blush, and a kittenish rub of their noses together.

"Nothing, everything's fine."

It was around the time they went to see a movie together that Bucky's joy for Steve turned into something else. They sat in the back while some musical played, and through the flashing lights and the corner of his eye, he could see his friend with his sweetheart holding hands on top of her lap throughout the whole performance. Meanwhile Dottie kept rubbing up against him, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, daring in the darker scenes to kiss his neck, but when she tried to get more of his attention —

"Buckyyy, what's wrong?"

— he shook her off. Hearing his name spoken by her voice suddenly felt disappointing.

He caught himself staring more and more, and not just when they went out together. Sometimes, the girl came by and spent some time with Steve, looking at his newer sketches, trying her hand too — oh and how disgusting they looked, Steve taking advantage of the situation to sit behind, and wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear. The pair greeted him cheerfully when he stepped through the living room and caught them, and he grinned back at them as he took a glass of milk, but all his appetite was gone.

And when they walked together through the park, and he saw them holding hands again… When Steve dug for some change to get her an ice cream, and they giggled stupidly as they made a mess of sharing it… When she fell asleep by his side one night at the dance hall, and Stevie woke her up with a tickle down her cheek, and she shivered and murmured like a bird and hid her face in his unworthy shoulder…

"Why don't you ever wanna dance, doll?" he asked as they were fetching drinks.

"Not much good at it, I guess," she shrugged. "The fast ones make me dizzy and I always trip."

"I can teach you. It'll work out great! Stevie teaches you to draw, I teach you how to dance… What do you say?"

The girl seemed to think, but shook her head. "Hmmm… No, not right now. Thanks," she smiled politely. "Besides, what would Stevie do meanwhile?"

She told him no just for the sake of keeping his scrawny little friend company, and Bucky had never felt more insulted — not that she wouldn't dance with him, although that hurt enough, but that he couldn't remember the last dame that gave something up just to stick with him, or got into fights for him, or kissed his wounds away, or held his hand in hers with no ulterior motive, and he'd found a girl that did that, and he wasted her on Steve.

So what if she was a little on the smaller side? So what if her dresses didn't fit right? So what if she came down with the cold at every change of season? He put up with it for Steve and he wasn't half as charming. The girl, instead, looked very delicate, more feminine in her own way, like when she braced her fingers on a table as she talked and mindlessly swung back and forth, animated in whatever she was saying, and her digits bent in such a childish way he feared they'd break, and it only made him want to kiss them. Or when she took her shoes off when she came to their apartment and he could catch a hint of shapely ankle, just perfect for his grip, or a peachy pink instep small enough to fit his palm. And when she fell asleep on their couch that one time and Bucky saw her all curled up, and noticed the arch of her hips and the cinch of her waist and pictured how good it would feel to hold them, and angle them upward, and…

Slowly, he started to appreciate some of what his friend had said that night, because she did have lovely eyes, and hair that looked so soft and warm, and her scent, unburdened by perfume, was sweet and girlish, and her lips looked kissable, and her wrists and knees and ankles too…

"Going out again, tonight?" he asked as the blond boy fixed himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, she wants to try this new place we —"

"Alright, alright…" sighed Bucky, already sick of hearing more. "So, that's all you're gonna do?"

"Well… yeah."

And then he voiced an evil thought. "Don't you ever want to… you know?"

"Y-you think we should?" Steve asked, turning away from his pallid reflection.

Bucky sat sprawled across the couch, and shrugged. "If she really likes you, she'd be up for it, don't you think?"

"I don't know about that, Buck."

"No? Ok," he nodded. "After all, what do I know?"

The aftermath of this particular advice was a draught of dates for poor ol' Steve, because just like Bucky had expected, the girl shrinked at the suggestion and couldn't stand to see him. For a while.

"Can you believe it, Buck?!"

"Yeah…"

"She'll see me again!"

"That's great, Stevie."

"What's wrong? You're lookin' real dour today."

Bucky knew he shouldn't. "I just…" He knew that it was wrong. "Look, it's great that she's forgiven you, but you gotta be realistic about this, pal." He had been happy for Steve at one point, long ago.

"What do you mean?"

But that was before he saw just how much love a girl could give, and realised he'd never felt it.

"Just don't delude yourself this is anything more than what it looks like, ok? She's only forgiven you because she knows nobody else will have her."

"That's mean, Buck."

"Yeah, well… I'm just looking out for you. You're my best friend, you know that. I don't want you getting hurt." It stuck in his throat to say it, but the bitterness stuck more.

And after Steve went to bed that night, Bucky took out the box of candy and the pricey perfume he had bought for her, threw them in the trash, and firmly promised to himself to never wait too long again.

But as he learned a bit later on, when they went back to double-dates, he might not have had a chance at all, because there was an unwitting element of truth to this cruel tirade.

"I can't exactly blame you, honey," Dottie consoled her as they stood in line for the ladies room, not knowing Bucky was just behind the thin divider leading to the men's. "If he does something like that again, I know this other fella —"

"Oh no, Dot, please… We're fine now. He explained things and… he's really sweet, I think he just had a moment of —"

"But just let me introduce you to Jim, see if you don't like him better."

"I… I don't know."

"He's a real charmer," Dottie grinned, "and he has these big, broad hands, jaw like an anvil. He just broke it off with Marcie cause she was a flirt."

He didn't hear anything next, but the girl must've shook her head cause Dottie asked, "You're sure?" and "Really? Well, if you change your mind…"

"Thanks, Dot," she lightly laughed.

"I don't know why you're so stubborn though, it's not like he's that far out your league. You just need to fix your hair a little bit and get a better brand of powder."

"It's not that easy."

"It's all it took me to get Bucky on my arm. That, and a better set of heels," she laughed.

"Yeah but you've always been pretty, Dot. Like, really pretty, and you know it. I guess some girls are for the James Barnes of this world, and some are the for the Steves."

She giggled as she said it, with not a hint of anger or resentment, and that's what stung the worst.

Bucky arranged to go see a late night movie with Dottie after that, while Steve and his girl went back to the apartment to listen to a boxing match on the radio and have some cherry sodas. Dottie went ahead to buy the tickets while Bucky walked them home, and after wishing him good night, she went upstairs to set things up. Steve was meant to go to the store and buy the drinks, but he stayed to chat with his friend a while.

"I can get some eggs and milk as well while I'm at it," he offered, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

"Sure."

"Or do we have enough for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Go ahead and buy them, pal," Bucky smiled, pretending to be less tired than he felt.

"Ok. And what about — darn!"

"What is it?"

"I just realized, I forgot to give her the keys," he said, taking a hand out of his pocket and holding them out. "I gotta get to the store, can you go up and give them to her?"

"Er, why don't —"

"You know I always trip on the stairs when I'm in hurry, Buck, they haven't changed the lightbulb yet. Don't make me do it."

"Fine, I'll go."

"I owe you big."

"You always do," he grinned, and took the keys from him.

Steve made off for the corner store, while Bucky started the long slow climb upstairs. It was completely dark inside at that hour, and the few candles some neighbours left to light the way had all gone out.

"Stevie, is that you?" he heard her call, standing right outside their door.

He kept one hand against the wall and walked his way toward her, stopping as he heard her whisper, "I think I lost the keys."

Blindly, she moved her hand forward, coming right across his chest. He felt her jolt at the unexpected contact, then burst into a giggle. Bucky could already feel the fanning of her breath right at the level of his chin. With an unseen smile, he took her hand, and placed the keys within it.

"Oh," she laughed. "You had them."

As her hand closed around them his own moved up her shoulder, fingers threading around her hair, and as he touched her jaw he felt her tilting slightly upward, shivering under the feeling.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He felt the warming tickle of her breath as he leaned close until, through the pitch black, he touched his lips to hers. Bucky did it lightly, just a little, just enough to taste and sip a kind of love he'd never really had. She stood surprised but took his kiss, and he felt her smiling into it, even beginning to kiss back just as he was parting from her.

"Your lips are softer than before," she giggled, in a sweet but altogether crushing way that made Bucky's heart beat stronger. "Stevie?"

Her hand moved through the air to touch him but felt nothing anymore, and down the stairs the heavy steps echoed, moving downward and away.

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? - Part 1

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All  Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.6k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

Humans always strived to be better, faster, and stronger. So it was only natural for them to turn to genetic manipulation. Splicing the human DNA with that of animals. Bringing about a new half-human, half-animal race called Hybrids. They were like most things humans deemed different, scary, and an abomination. They were not allowed to be independent in fear of rebellion against the elite pure humans. These Hybrids were soon seen as lesser compared to the pure humans and were quick to be sold as servants to the rich and shady, and pets to the common families. The only problem was when the families no longer wanted their designer pedigree hybrid they were either abandoned, sold, or worse.

Hybrids didn’t have a voice. They were not allowed to live on their own unless they were fully educated with a bachelor’s degree. Due to these standards, many were sent back to the adoption agencies to be rehomed again and again until they reached a certain age. Then they were put down to make room for more returned hybrids.

You were working with the government on a program that could fix the hybrid rehoming issue. Having presented your idea to the board they seemed interested and were willing to grant you a small fund if you could give them the results they needed. They gave you a handful of Hybrids, one being Jimin the poster boy for the government. He was genetically modified to create a male calico with the classic calico print which was only found on females.

They succeeded and though Jimin was a male his features were more on the feminine side making him seem too androgynous but not what the market wanted. He was left to be used as a model on new billboards and television advertisements for government services and legislations regarding Hybrids.

Another participant was your neighbor’s hybrid, Taehyung. He was a golden retriever and was volunteered by his owner, an older gentleman who recently lost his wife. He was worried for the young hybrid that one day when he shall pass he will be alone and scared. You were quick to guarantee him a place in the program to help him become more self-sufficient in case anything should happen.

You were currently packing your things, not that there was much, living in such a tiny apartment. However, you were preparing for a call within the week regarding moving into a larger government-funded home where you could comfortably house the number of new participants of your trial program. The place was fully furnished with everything a large family of hybrids would need, all you had to bring was your clothes. Everything else was paid for to create the perfect environment for the hybrids. Rent, utilities, food, and anything the hybrids needed were all reimbursed by the government.

Since it would be a few days before you would hear anything, you thought it was best to start thinking of activities for the hybrids to get to know one another. Whilst also basking in your last moments of freedom before devoting yourself to the program. 

On that note, you had finally finished packing and decided to spend your hybrid-free moments treating yourself to some food. Pulled from your thoughts of a delicious omelet by a loud ping from your jean pocket. A reminder on your phone in bold letters.

H-week!

Today marked the first day of your heat, this explained the nagging twinge in your back you had been ignoring, you thought it was from hunching over to pack. Searching your top draw you saw the empty blister packet of heat suppressants, great another thing to add to your ever-growing to-do list. The pharmacy was a little further than the restaurant you wished to visit but not too far out of the way. So you set off hoping to get back in time before it gets too dark, your eyes did funny things at night.

See you weren’t exactly human yourself, you were an experiment. The world was creating new hybrids and well, you were genetically modified within the same year as Jimin. Supposed to be the new designer breed the ‘Fox-Hybrid’. The problem was it didn’t work, you were born entirely human. Sure you were a bit more agile, and your ability to hear and smell things was better than normal. You were still essentially human.

Once a month since you were thirteen, you would get a strange feeling in your lower abdomen. When you discussed it with the scientists for your check-up, they had explained it was a heat. Whilst foxes usually had a heat once a year lasting three days, yours would happen once a month lasting three days but a lot milder. 

Since that day you have taken a low dose heat suppressant to nullify any pheromones. You were grateful because it wasn’t as painful or as long as a human period, but it wasn’t as debilitating or humiliating as a real heat.

You had grown up seeing Jimin on occasion and were familiar with how debilitating hybrid heats and ruts were. Even so, the two of you became friends, both failed attempts at modification.

Though you never understood why they said fox hybrids didn’t exist, you had seen them. Sometimes in grocery stores, restaurants, or nightclubs. They would be there, they would wink at you or wave, give you a smirk with a twitch of their ears or a swish of their tail. Were they mocking you for being a defect?

The only good thing accompanying your long journey was the music humming softly in your headphones. Used to drown out the loud sounds of the city, as your ears were sensitive. It also helped you ignore the side-eyes from Hybrids who would not so subtly sniff the air as you passed. 

You caught a flash of orange and looked across the street. A simple fruit shop that had a colorful awning flapping in the gentle breeze.

Moving around the store was a shopkeeper in a green apron, shirt, with his bronze hair sticking out underneath a matching cap. He was putting down a tray of banana’s and as he stood, a pair of ears and a bottle brush-like tail were visible, he turned as if sensing your presence and locked eyes with you, tipping his cap. He dusted his hands on his apron, leaving you shocked. A Fox hybrid in public! No one else seemed amazed or even spared him a glance. How could no one see this?

It was like a scene from a movie, as a truck drove past leaving the man looking completely innocent and human talking to a few ladies. He was quite good-looking and charming, but there was no sign of a tail. The women were quick to fall for him, purchasing an oddly large selection of fruits and vegetables. You turned back to the path ahead of you shaking your head in disbelief, before continuing on your way to the pharmacy.

The pharmacy catered for humans and hybrids alike and was never too busy. Which made it your favorite store to collect your script from, as there was little to no waiting time. Handing over the script, you strolled around the store wondering what you would need for these Hybrids. Toothbrushes? Combs? If they had a lot of body hair would they need the silky coat shampoo formula or the soft fur body wash? Placing the hybrid shampoo and body wash back on the shelf you shook your head honestly this was overwhelming. 

Rubbing your aching stomach, you were too uncomfortable to really get into hybrid care right now. You wouldn’t have to worry about any other heats apart from your own as it was decided with the board they would all be male hybrid participants. This stemmed from Taehyung being already a willing participant from the start, they thought it best not to mix male and female hybrids.

You would however have to deal with their ruts, albeit once or twice a year. You chewed your lip in thought pausing in the makeup section of the store. You caught your reflection in the small mirror and preened thoughtfully, your eyes were expressive and angular, your hair due to the modification was a brilliant copper.

You were quite beautiful, eerily so, like the man at the fruit shop. Your features were so similar. Even though you were a defect and he was the real deal. “Ma’am your order is ready.”

Turning surprised you grew hot in embarrassment, stammering to make an excuse, “Sorry, I was just thinking about a really strange fox hybrid at the fruit shop.”

Many occupants in the store turned confused and you heard an old man say, “Fox hybrids don’t exist, they are sinister creatures and not to be meddled with”

“She must be a conspiracy theorist,” one woman whispered to her hybrid snake who was donating venom for anti-venom.

Paying for the medication you left quickly and took one of the small pills as you stepped out of the store. Why didn’t anyone else see them?

You headed back towards your home, not forgetting the reason for your trip. You were excited about an omelet at your favorite restaurant when two apples came rolling across the pavement. 

They rolled towards you, quickly picking them up you carried them inside the store, “excuse me, sir you dropped some of your apples,” You saw his shadow in the darkened store, two pointed ears, and the flick of a tail.

“Are you a fox hybrid?” You asked curiously and he laughed. It was strange like snickering but at a pitch that was not fit for a grown man, like a child’s giggle sharper with a few squeals, or like a bird chittering. You know the sound. He was Gekkering like a fox.

“Thank you,” he took the apples gesturing you over to the side, “let me get you some blueberries, they are my favorite.” 

“Oh thank you, sir, how much do I owe you?”

He shook his head, thrusting a black plastic bag into your hands, “It’s okay, we have to look out for one another.” 

What a strange man…

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[awesomerextyphoon]

Don’t Tell Me

This is for @cockslut-padalecki​’s Not My Ninth Challenge. My prompt was Stucky x Reader with Royal Au and No Doubt’s Don’t Speak for the lyrics.

Summary: You loved them with all your heart, but now you must wed another.

Pairing: Stucky x Black Female Reader, Brock Rumlow x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Warning: Angst, Implied Smut, Threesome, Mild Depictions of Violence, and Forced Marriage

A/N: This might be my saddest fic yet. I hope this isn’t too much of a downer for you, @cockslut-padalecki​. Happy Birthday and Congratulations on 9K followers!

Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

Back to Masterlist

“Rise and shine, Your Highness! Today’s the big day!” Sabine, your closest handmaiden, announced.

You covered your head with your pillow in irritation, “I don’t want to!”

Sabine sighed, “You have to get up or the guards will come and force you out of bed.”

With an annoyed huff, you got up and stretched, “Let’s get this over with, Sabine.”

You had been dreading this day for weeks. Today was the day you were to wed Brock Rumlow, ruler of the Triskelion Empire. You didn’t want to marry him. He was boorish, cruel, and violent.

But most of all, you didn’t want to marry Brock because your heart belonged to Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes.

  It started when you were six years old. You were sent to Brooklynd to be King Joseph’s ward as part of a peace initiative (you later found out it was because of a failed coup and your mother wanted you safe).

King Joseph, Queen Sarah, and the court loved you. Only Prince Steven and his best friend, James Barnes Duke of Shelby, gave you the cold shoulder.

It sucked because they were the only ones near your age. You tried to win them over with baked goods from your homeland, trinkets and toys Queen Sarah said that Steven would love, and some of your favorite books. Nothing worked until you had enough and confronted them.

Steven was about to enter the stables with James when you caught them. You just wanted to ask why they were avoiding you, but as your mother warned you got violent and socked James with a left hook. It got to the point that the guards had to split up the three of you.

Queen Sarah had an unusual and embarrassing punishment: the three of you had to sit in a circle and hold hands for one hour under the stern eye of the governess and the queen herself. The air was thick with tension until the governess farted. You tried your hardest not to laugh, but you help yourself. Soon Steven and James joined in the merriment.

You were best friends ever since.

 “What do you want for your bath, Your Highness?”

“May I have the Rose, Hibiscus, Black Pepper, Lemongrass oils for the bath, and the Amla/Coconut Oil mixture for my hair, please. Thank you, Ngozi.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Once the oils were applied to the bath, you sunk in sighing from the nearly scalding water; its warmth giving you a peace of mind that has been denied to you for weeks.

You wondered how it got to this, then you frowned at the bitter memories symbolized by the single piece of jewelry under your pillow.

  The three of you became thick as thieves. Always helping each other in defending one another whether it be fighting off Steve’s bullies with Bucky or telling the snobby rich girls to stuff it whenever they said you weren’t feminine enough.

Joke’s on them because you passed all of your etiquette classes with flying colors.

Though something happened when you turned thirteen; you started seeing your best friends in a new light. You noticed how Bucky’s shoulders were broadening, Steven’s full bottom lip, the dazzling blues in their eyes, or how their laughs.

Sabine, your closest handmaiden, and friend, confirmed it; you were falling in love with them.

You were scared at first; you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with them. So you started avoiding them by spending time with Duchess Natalia and Marchioness Monica as they were the only female peers you could stand.

You would sneak glances at them when you thought they weren’t looking, but they were.

It went on like that for a year until Bucky had enough and confessed to liking you. You were relieved that he returned your affections, but was taken aback when Steven grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Turns out they’ve been a secret item for six months.

They both loved you and wanted to make it work.

And it did, for a time. You spent a great deal of time together. Though they were a few close calls since your mother instructed Queen Sarah not to let you court anyone and Steven and Bucky couldn’t go public just yet.

It didn’t matter; you just wanted to be near them. The three of you would sneak kisses by moonlight, write secret love letters, all the fun, and mushy stuff. Your relationship reached a new level when Steve and Bucky presented you with a vibranium and dragon’s gold alloy promise ring with ruby rose and emerald leaves. The three of you vowed to be together forever.

It was pure bliss; you didn’t want it to end.

  “Life had other plans, huh?” you muttered to yourself as your handmaidens were making the final body preparations before you got into your gown.

  Your mother, Queen Ketandu, had written to you and Queen Sarah requesting that you return to Abia in order to complete your studies and take on royal duties. You cried in Bucky’s arms for hours before he had to return to his quarters the morning before your departure.

It wasn’t long before puberty hit you like an airship going at full speed (late bloomer). You became famed for your beauty with scores of suitors, but you rejected them all. Only Bucky and Steve would have your hand.

One of the suitors, Brock Rumlow of Triskelion took it especially hard. He vowed he would have your hand, but your cousin, Samuel Wilson, said to pay him no mind.

You were only able to communicate with Steve and Bucky via phone or letters. It took you four years to return to Brooklynd, but it was not a joyous occasion. King Joseph had passed and Steven was to be crowned king within the fortnight.

Both of them had changed so much, especially Steve; he was nearly unrecognizable. He towered over nearly everyone (only Bucky, Thor, Loki, and M’Baku were taller), broad shoulders, rich tawny pink skin, and a face that could make nearly all the women (and some men) swoon.

He looked like the kings of old, even more so than his father.

Bucky wasn’t slacking either with the way many of the courtiers were ogling him; admiring him for his rugged, yet prim presence.

They were Rulers of Paradise and you were to be their queen.

The three of you finally made love that night. It was your first time, so they decided to be gentle and showered you with kisses and affection. Steve and Bucky worshipped your body as if it was the last thing they would enjoy before the afterlife.

It was as though you were dreaming.

  “Here’s your wedding gown, Your Highness.” Zara, another handmaiden, exclaimed.

“Thank you, Zara.” You tried your best to not let the tears fall. This day was never supposed to happen.

Why did your dream have to die like this?!

  The first crack in your fantasy came with the news of your older brother’s assassination and the outbreak of a civil war. Your sister-in-law begged you to come home.

Your airship was to leave first thing in the morning.

You raced to inform your lovers of your departure. One of the servants said that they saw Steve in his mother’s rose garden. Thinking it was Steve being shy and needing some rest, you ventured into the garden only for fantasy and your heart shatter completely.

In the rose garden under the central archway was Steve on one knee proposing to Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter with Bucky looking on with a smile and the full moon behind them.

Everything froze at that moment.

Why?! Why did they do this?! Were your feelings a joke to them? Did they ever love you?

Unable to hold back your despair, you shrieked at the ideal romantic scene before you.

Steve tried to explain the situation and Bucky almost caught you, but you ran away before you could hear them.

You left for Abia that night.

  “Now ladies,” Lady Bente, the wedding planner bellowed, “remember, this is Emperor Rumlow’s big day. There’s no room for failure.” She didn’t need to say what would happen if you tried anything ‘funny’.

“I know. How can I forget the threats?” grumbled as Sabine put the final touches on your wedding outfit: an off-the-shoulder A-Line Tulle Wedding Dress, a Hand-crafted white gold Baroque tiara inlaid with pale sapphires, diamonds, and pearls, and matching earring and necklace.

Looking in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The dress accentuated your curves and the jewels made your face glow. You were a vision.

Too bad it was for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything you hold dear.

  Barely six months after you returned from Brooklynd, Abia conquered by the Triskelion Empire. Their ambassador informed the council that the empire will let Abia continue as a client state if you married their emperor, Brock Rumlow.

If not, Triskelion would raze Abia to the ground and take her citizens as slaves.

The council implored you as Triskelion forces had Sam captive and Abia’s army was running out of supplies.

With a heavy and broken heart, you accepted Rumlow’s terms.

The wedding was to be in a month.

  You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, “Too bad Rumlow isn’t getting a virgin.”

“Goodbye, Your Highness.” Sabine whispered, “Now, don’t you start crying after all the work I put into ya!”

“I know it’s just not fair. I have to lose you, too?” Rumlow made it clear that you were to leave your old world behind, including your closest friend and confidant.

Sabine pulled you in for a hug, “I know it’s not. It’s been a pleasure and delight being your handmaiden and friend.”

“Alright, everyone! Line up! The wedding is about to begin!” Lady Bente ordered.

You gave your friend one last glance before the doors shut behind you, “Goodbye Sabine.”

  The cathedral was spectacular.

Bouquets of roses and elven tulips adorned the pillars. The banners of Abian and Triskelion colors were delicately placed creating an ethereal atmosphere.

Rumlow really outdid himself.

Dignitaries from far and wide were in attendance. You saw your mother, uncle, Sam, and your sister holding her ten-month-old son.

Rumlow took your hand with a triumphant smirk. You could say that he was handsome if you didn’t want to claw his eyes out.

“You look ravishing, darling.”

“I hate you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Dearly beloved and exalted rulers, we are gathered here today to join the Triskelion Emperor and the Second Princess of Abia in holy matrimony.”

You closed your eyes in resignation. No one was coming. Maybe Brock wouldn’t be so bad.

“If anyone has any reason as to why these two should not be married.”

Then you remembered how he threatened your mother and uncle when after Abia surrendered. His twisted smirk was enough to make your blood boil.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The cathedral was silent for a few minutes until the doors were blown off their hinges and several guards were flung to the opposite wall behind the altar.

Everyone turned to find smoke and debris. An inhuman roar filled the venue terrifying the guests.

Two figures emerged from the smoke and your eyes widened in shock.

“We do.”

[vidalinav]

A Kinder Sea: Chapter 1

Summary: After the IC give Nesta an ultimatum Nesta chooses instead to support herself, cutting herself off from them completely and so begins Nesta’s journey of finding a job and falling in love with everyday life (Slice of Life/Fix-it Fic)

Masterlist, Chapter List 

Dedicated to you Noni!

~

Three flights of stairs later and Nesta could feel the muscles in her legs quake, and she wasn’t even on her floor. Even after all these months she was still not used to the stairs. They wound up the apartment building in a way that offered no shortcut.  

To get to her apartment, she’d need to pass every door on each level, each apartment spiraling around the building like a dome. Nesta’s was at the end. At the very top and the last apartment on the fifth floor. It was the cheapest one she could find in Velaris, and when she’d moved in she understood why.  

Never mind that the entire layout seemed impractical, Nesta often wondered what would happen if a fire broke out. She could only imagine jumping from the fifth floor like a flying squirrel, landing in that lone tree at the center of the complex. Then she’d really be lost to the wild, as her sisters probably thought now.  

She could hear the pounding footsteps of the floor above and Nesta rolled her eyes. Two little boys came trampling down, running as if they were made of air. They did not so much as huff as they bounced the ball they carried and Nesta held her breath as they passed. No sense in showing them that she couldn’t make it to her floor without panting out a lung.

“Hi Ms. Nesta!” One yelled.

“Bye Ms. Nesta!” The other called.

Nesta didn’t get the chance to answer before they were gone. Matching red shirts disappearing to lower levels. Her eyes tried to follow them as she grasped the railing for the fourth set of stairs. She couldn’t catch the youngest’s dark curly hair or the oldest’s green shoes and Nesta lugged herself up, sighing in defeat.  

She wondered if falling down four floors was enough to knock herself out--if the beautiful fae male on the first floor would perhaps carry her up, gods knew she’d survive the fall. But no... Nesta couldn’t chance it. With her luck, no one would even notice, and she’d have to pick herself up, shame and all, and climb them all over again.

She supposed she could always pretend to be napping. Lie under that tree and the beautiful azure sky like she hadn’t fallen four floors. The summer sun, Nesta would say to her neighbors if they asked. Such a beautiful day to be out here. Picnics and all.

Why are your legs broken then? They’d say.

None of your business, she’d answer in that haughty tone of hers.

Nesta laughed at her own thoughts... But as she looked back at all those steps, her smile dropped. Nesta could only tip her head back and groan.

She’d chosen the apartment because it was the cheapest, yes, and she’d regretted it every day since. Not enough to move, but perhaps she was just too stubborn. Even when her sister had asked with that tone of hers why she lived there, or when the silence between them was enough of a proclamation that Feyre did not approve, Nesta held onto the apartment. Nesta held onto it like it belonged to her. Like she owned it and Nesta knew she owned nothing. The city might as well have been signed under Feyre Archeron and her insufferable mate—property owned and sold by the Night Court’s finest and Nesta was not ashamed to say the thought made her bitter.

Nesta could not run far enough away to escape her sister, and now her sister thought she owned her too.

She began the trek up, breathing through the burn of her thighs, trying to focus on the movements of her body rather than the berating voice of her mind, but the anger was a tight first pulling at her skull.

Forget them. They mean nothing to you, Nesta told herself.

You mean nothing to them, a voice whispered back.

She could only agree, and Nesta couldn’t help but lean over the railing. Four floors and then five, contemplating that height.

The only time she hadn’t regretted this apartment was when spring came in a flurry of rainstorms. She’d watched from her balcony window the rain pour down on the city below, gloomy and perturbed that her night of drinking had been postponed indefinitely. But when days had passed and the sun at last began to peek out once more, and she unashamedly ran to the nearest tavern, Nesta had caught a glimpse of that lone tree at the bottom. It had bloomed in magenta and white, it’s flowers swaying to a soft breeze.  

She’d gripped those rails and stood there, didn’t even know if she made it to the bar that day. Nesta had stayed there for hours looking at those colors—to each door, each floor thinking that the building itself bowed to that tree, protected it in its sacred embrace. Nesta, herself, had bowed to that tree that day as she leant over the railings.

She could imagine the petals still, the wind picking them up as if it might gift it to her. She’d wished for Elain then... hoped that she might come—forget what she said about her life being separate from theirs. But Elain never came... Elain never visited her once.

Now, Nesta thought, Elain didn’t deserve to see it at all.

The thought of her sister made her chest thrum with unsettled words��and Nesta chastised herself for her straying thoughts and that restless anger she didn’t know what to do with.

The summer had taken away the beauty of spring and there were no flowers left when the sun beat across the sweltering concrete and all Nesta knew for sure was that she was sweaty and exhausted, her chest heavy in a way that she usually only felt after a long night of drinking and getting nowhere. The stairs were usually a punishment then, a pain she’d only vaguely complain about the next day when she did it again, lugging herself up flight after flight.  

She supposed this was a punishment, too.

Nesta could see her door as she managed the last step and she could have flopped down right then and there, but she raised her chin instead because the stairs would not best her today.

Neither would her snooty sisters. Neither would her mind that wouldn’t stop thinking of them.

The surest way to forget, Nesta learned, was wheat, barley, and hops or whatever the tavern made ale with. She could practically hear the tumbling drunken voices as she walked to her door. She’d drink the memories away, music filling the space where her thoughts had once gathered. Let them return in the morning with the headache and the dry throat that would surely accompany like loyal friends—old friends that Nesta had begun to miss.

She fumbled with the lock on her door with that thirst in her throat, her mouth parched for the taste of it. The key jammed as she twisted it and Nesta shoved it harder in its slot.

“Are you serious?” She asked the door. The dingy, brown-painted wood did not reply and Nesta groaned as she kicked it. Nesta fiddled with the lock, turning the key over and over, slamming the door with her body, and when the lock would still not budge, she pointed to the door as she had to the King of Hybern. “Open up you blasted thing!”

Meow.

Nesta turned to the black shadow that poked its head out of the wall, clenching her fists at the interruption.

"Shoo,” she said as she waved her hand.

Meow, the cat sounded, tilting its ghostly head.

Nesta could make out no mouth or eyes and she didn’t know how she could hear its cry, but she’d stopped asking questions about the logic of the fae world the first weeks of becoming fae. It did her no good when she was hungover or tired... which were most days, and it was not the first time the little shadow cat seemed to come out of the walls and greet her at her door.

She pointed to the shadow merely wagging its tail like the arrows of a metronome. “At least you can get inside,” Nesta grumbled.

The shadow cat tilted its head as if contemplating her statement then rolled onto its back, offering its belly. Nesta didn’t know what solution that might have wrought so she ignored its luring movements.

“I’m allergic to cats,” she haughtily replied.

Nesta pulled the key from its slot and slammed it in once more. She wiggled it back and forth, her face feeling hot with frustration. The cat meowed louder as it jumped up, coming to rub itself against her leg.

Nesta raised her hands in defeat, sighing as the door stubbornly stayed closed.

“Fine,” she said, looking to the little shadow. “You win.”

The cat bobbed into her outstretched hand, and Nesta crouched low, scratching behind its ears. The shadow’s fur felt as soft as silk, and she wondered why it didn’t feel like air like she thought it should. The cat meowed again, and Nesta huffed. Attention hog, she thought, but the cat merely rubbed against her, purring sweetly.

“You know, you’re far less judgmental than most people I know,” she said. The cat flopped on its back again and Nesta went for its belly. The cat swatted her away with its paws. She swatted back, feeling herself smile lightly at its antics.

At the unconscious raise of her lips, Nesta frowned, but before she could contemplate the distraction, the little cat’s head stood at attention, its body stilling its lazy movements. The cat looked to the stairs and so did Nesta. She could hear the echo of concrete as someone took heavy steps.

When Nesta turned to the cat again, it was gone.  

“No music. No stomping. No parties. No recreational sports. No hobbies. No shouting!” The male shouted.

“What? No laughter?”

“Not if it’s loud,” Nesta’s landlord threatened. She could recognize the nasally tone, the footsteps when he went from apartment to apartment reminding them about rent, leaving notes on their door about policies. Why he frequently climbed those stairs on his own accord Nesta never knew.

But she took note of the feminine laughter, one she’d never heard before.

Nesta recognized all of her neighbors—knew what they looked like, how they talked, their routine on a regular basis. She watched them from her world above and occasionally they would say high, but mostly it was Nesta watching as they interacted in the world below. She didn’t care to know any of their names, she only wanted to know what level of bothersome they would be—what kind of threat.

This voice was new and they didn’t sound threatening, but Nesta knew that she would spend hours looking out of the little peep hole to see if she’d catch a glimpse of that unknown being who laughed as if her landlord was joking. He was not joking.

Nesta certainly wouldn’t stay outside to greet them. She didn't have it in herself to meet one more person who would just stare along with all the rest. As if she was some carnival attraction.

Come see the failure of Velaris. Some say she’s so hideous, she never comes down from that tower.

Nesta looked to her door, the key still stuck in its slot. She could hear them louder this time, their voices clear and ringing.

“No pets. No flags. No patio decorations. Nothing colorful...”

She twisted the key with reckless abandon, slamming herself quickly at the same time she pushed. The door opened easily and Nesta watched her landlord reach the top of the stairs as she shut it quickly.

The door clicked in place with a heavy thump.

Nesta didn’t look back out—didn’t move. She was almost afraid the stout male would be there breathing down the worn paint, some random fae trailing behind like death on her doorstep. She leaned against the door and tried to picture that tree again. The cat with silk-soft fur. The fizz of alcohol that floated to the top. The pop of a champagne bottle as if she had something to celebrate.

But when Nesta closed her eyes, she could only see a shadowy figure standing beyond that worn, thin door. Hovering over it as if it breathed on the back of her neck. Scythe in hand—the grim reaper yelling across its wood in sharp, distinct notes.

Nasal and high-pitched.

Where. Is. The. Rent?

~

Nesta left the windows open to air out the scent that Cassian had so graciously commented on the day before, and the room had become unbearable. The hot sticky sun of a mid-summer warmed her skin, and she kicked her blankets away, feeling as if she’d just bathed. Her hair stuck to her face, but she didn’t bother combing it away. It seemed that all Nesta could do was slouch back and stare at the ceiling.

She had stared at the ceiling all day, couldn’t stop staring at nothing until Nesta hoped it would just collapse on top of her. Popcorn ceiling constellation for wary, vindictive dreams. Not that she remembered many these days.

From her bedside window, she could see the sun had already begun to set on Velaris.

The window was another thing she liked about this place—that she could see the city without ever leaving her bed. She could see rooftops and the interweaving trees. Great twisting oak that she felt might come alive one day, grab her by one of its many branches and hoist her over the city to the sky above.

Nesta didn’t know what time it was. Most days she found herself having slept before realizing she’d ever laid down. She was always tired and just like yesterday and the day before, Nesta had slept to the buzz of cicadas, and she’d woken to crickets chirping. The sound so loud she thought they might be hidden in her cupboards.

But all Nesta could do was sigh...

Nothing much had changed. She was still in her apartment, could still see the endless amount of clothes strewn about, knew that there was nothing to eat in the pantry or the refrigerator.

The crickets chirped, and nothing changed.

Still, she felt different.

And she felt as if the world should look different, too. Rain, because something permanent had happened yesterday morning and the sky wanted to wash it away. The ground shaking instead of her body. The wind roaring instead of her words. But the sky was only dipped in peaches and purples, and the world was still.

The bed creaked as she tumbled out of it and Nesta kicked away the dress she’d worn that gathered at her feet. Maybe she’d burn it, too, because she didn’t want to remember what it felt like to be embarrassed... ashamed.

Maybe she’d keep it.

Because no person, thing, entity, or otherwise was going to take one more piece of her. She’d keep it like the memory of a risen middle finger. Like a power that hummed a furious tune.

For now, she’d throw the dress in the corner with the rest of the clothes and hope it took up space in a room that was mostly bare.

That was her apartment’s fault. It was too large, even without a bedroom. A studio Nesta couldn’t fill—didn't want to fill at the time. It was empty and it echoed as she walked. She didn't even have a dining room table. Only a bed that came with the place, a frame that was squeaky and rusted. Her dirty clothes and her shoes strewn about decorated the room, and she was okay with this...

Until he had wandered in.

Some part of her thought she ought to take a bath and wash the grime of the days away. Look somewhat decent. But the thought of him filled her with disgust. She would be decent for no one.

So Nesta went to the kitchen instead, tucked away in the far corner, where the cream-colored shelves sat studiously staring as if to say you haven’t opened us in a while. Nesta didn’t bother with them.

Nesta went to the refrigerator instead, reached above the tall contraption she’d found to be positively fae. Nothing existed quite like this where’d she lived most of her life. They’d had an icebox when it was winter, where they stored uncooked meat if Feyre had come home with excess. But that had rarely happened. In the fae world, it seemed, everything she found a luxury, was common and not worth speaking about.

Nesta reached for the cookie jar that sat at the top, its white hue dusty as she took it down. In it was her security and she couldn’t help but hold it to her chest.

In the beginning, when she’d first started frequenting taverns and hadn’t yet discovered the joys of sex and booze, Nesta was rather serious about cards. Mostly because she was good at playing and males were easy to fool. They’d stare at her breasts, try to make casual chit-chat, all the while Nesta was making bets. They were making their own bets too, of course, who’d go home with her, who’d she kiss in the back hall, feel her up where it was quieter, and the lights were dim. They didn't seem to mind losing money and Nesta certainly didn’t mind taking it.

She stored the bills and coins away in some random jar she’d found in the local grocery store. It was on sale, and it was the first thing she’d ever bought with money of her own.  

Nesta didn’t want to think on what they would call this money, but it was her money. She splayed the bills on the counter, piled up the coins, and when she was done counting, Nesta found she had just enough for next month’s rent... and maybe a grocery run if she’d budgeted well enough. It would have to last her—the groceries. Unless she found a job soon. She’d start looking today...

Tomorrow, she decided.

Today she’d clean herself up. Because tomorrow, she’d have to look presentable whether she wanted to or not. It was not about pride. It was about survival and Nesta had survived worse things than this.

So, who cares about them? Nesta thought. The only person who lives here is me.

~

Something her sister didn’t seem to realize was that getting drunk was free.

Most nights Nesta didn’t even have to buy her own drinks, and the only reason she did was because she’d knew her family would see it. She liked imagining the red of their faces, the clenched fists in which they held the bill. Making them angry seemed to spark some thrill in her that nothing else could replicate.

Now as she sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hands, she almost felt annoyed. Not just because she couldn’t get drunk today, but because even if she did who would see it? Who would care?

Not that they did, anyways.

But she supposed all of them had won in that sense... and the idea that they won, that they had an advantage even now made Nesta want another drink.

“Can I get you another round?” The male asked, sidling up to her, placing his hand on her back.

Nesta didn’t spare him a glance, as she rocked her drink in her hand, “No.”

"You’ve been sipping on that drink since you got here.”

“You've been paying attention, how nice.” Nesta held up the half-finished glass, “I’m fine with this one.”

The male didn’t seem to get the hint as he sat at the stool next to her. He could have been beautiful or a disgrace, Nesta didn’t care. He could have been him and she still wouldn’t have looked.

The whiskey told her that was a lie.

“Come on, just one drink.” He lured, leaning into her. When the male didn’t capture her attention, she heard the slam of his glass on the table. She gave it a sidelong glance, where the liquid spilled on the counter. “What? You’re too proud to drink with someone as lowly as me? Lady Archeron.”

He sang the words, and at the title, Nesta shot him a glare, letting her powers glow through, “if you want to keep your tongue, I suggest getting away from me.”

The fae stepped back at the look.

Good, she thought. Smart. Nesta had no interest in blowing up the bottles stacked behind the bar, and she had no means to pay if it happened. If it happened, he’d have bigger things to worry about then her eyes glowing silver.

Nesta looked to the puddle forming where he’d slammed his drink and gave him another glare.

Leaving this mess? Who raised you?

A waitress huffed a laugh, and Nesta turned towards her. She couldn’t help the scowl she gave the female behind the bar, who took out a rag and wiped the counter clear. “What are you looking at?”

The female only gave her a smirk, humor dancing in her eyes.

Nesta gulped down the last of her drink, slamming the finished glass on the table like the male had done before. She took out a few coins, pushing them forward.

Tonight, she did not feel like another.

~

Finding a job was harder than she expected and Nesta spent most of the morning going from shop to shop asking if they had any availability for work.

Most of the stores had barely begun to open, and only a few gave her concrete answers. The little book shop—Nesta's first choice—had told her that the owner was away and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. The pastry shop, where Nesta might have been happy smelling the sweet scent of bread for hours and sneaking the tarts they’d displayed in the windows, had inquired about skills in which she had few.

By the time she made it back to her apartment, she felt the heavy weight of the rising sun and little more than disappointment settling on her shoulders. She was hungry, too. It seemed that job hunting worked up an appetite that only a job could satisfy, and Nesta could think of nothing that sounded remotely good to fill her.

Nesta had been like that lately. Always hungry. Never hungry enough... or perhaps too hungry to move and search for food in her pantry. Not that she had much in there besides dust bunnies.

She’d taken money out of the jar that morning, though her heart hurt with every silver coin. The bills, in their array of colors, Nesta hadn’t touched—wouldn’t dare if she wanted her rent paid next month. She couldn’t stop thinking about it... the looming sense of dread that accompanied her and her dwindling jar. Her stomach ached with it.

Still, she had enough for a bag of groceries, Nesta told herself... minus the coin for the drink. She shouldn’t have bought it. She should have let the male pay for it.

Nesta didn’t want to dwell as the guilt roared up her chest.

She had enough for some bread and butter, cheese and some fruit. Tea to tide her over. She let that fact comfort her. She didn’t need much. Afterall, she’d starved half her life. There was no difference in doing it now. Nothing new, Nesta decided.

For now, even as her nausea demanded she go home and hide behind her door where she could pretend it was safe, she’d buy a sweet bun for her effort and she would try to enjoy it, too.

There was a grocery store a street down from her apartment and trees lined the sidewalk. Nesta could make out the pinwheels poking out from the ground, rainbow colors spinning so fast she might have gotten dizzy starring at them for too long. Windchimes rang as she approached, and its soft music drifted past as if it were made of dreams. It made her envious. The little shop that could hear music made by the wind.

“Good morning!” An elderly male greeted her as he set down a box of oranges lined in neat rows. Nesta recognized him as one half of the couple who owned the store. She raised a hand in greeting but didn’t say a word instead jumbling past him and the ramshackle array of boxes. Reds and vibrant yellows. Bright greens and dark greens and something shaped like a star.

“Can I help you find anything?” He called, though Nesta had lost him between the shelves. The fae always asked her that as many times as she dared to show her face, and just like the many times before Nesta did not reply. She merely looked to the corner, already knowing its place, where the clear display casings were filled with buns and bread.

Nesta eyed her favorite immediately.

She took the tongs out of the encasing and felt her mouth water, her stomach grumbling its get on with it roar. She picked up the toasted brown, the bun dusted with powdered sugar. She ignored the other sweets trapped inside. Nesta hadn’t wanted to try any of the others. As soon as she’d first bitten into this one, she hadn’t wanted anything else.

She wanted nothing else, as she went to the counter, carrying that little bun wrapped in paper.

The male sidled up the register, clearing his throat as he smiled. Nesta only moved to get her coins and tried not to stare at his face. She didn’t care for the warmth it held.

Liar, she thought. Everyone in Velaris is a liar.

“That will be two silvermarks,” He replied cheerfully.

Nesta pulled out the two coins from her bag and felt her mouth pull into a frown.

Was a bun worth it? She asked herself. Two silvermarks for one bun that would last her only a moment. Apprehension welled up and her stomach twisted in greedy knots. But she set the coins on the counter anyway, the money rattling a harsh ring.

The male dipped his head politely, sliding the silver towards him. Nesta watched as he entered a button on his register and the till opened with a sharp ding.

“We appreciate your business,” he said at last. She nearly grimaced at how chipper he sounded, but he once more smiled warmly and Nesta’s brows furrowed.

Liar times two.

She didn’t note her goodbye even as he called for her to have a nice day and only when she was out of the shop did Nesta unwrap the bun she’d carefully held. She nearly moaned her pleasure as she bit into it. Her favorite part was the yellow custard at the center, and as she took a few more bites, she licked at the cream. Before she knew it the bun was half eaten and Nesta wrapped it once more in paper.

She’d save it. Savor it because it would be the last of them for a while.  

Nesta shuffled along as she walked back to her apartment, cradling the rest of the bun with care.  She blew at her hair that fell into her face, escaping from her braid. It stuck to her sweaty skin. She didn’t like how hot it was, how bright the sun shone, and as she entered the dome of her apartment building, Nesta could only think of getting back into her room, sleeping until it was night again.

No disruptions. No busybodies knocking on her door.

As she looked to the steps, Nesta sighed heavily. She could hear the noise of two little boys.

Oh, right.

“Ms. Nesta! Ms. Nesta!” They called, out of breath.

Nesta waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, but they were not coming from the floors above, but rather the pavilion. They passed that large swaying tree at the center, and Nesta stood straighter as they ran towards her.

“There's a ghost!” The oldest yelled.

“Come quick!” The youngest one said, grabbing on to the skirt of her dress. He pulled her forward and Nesta followed casually, not at all bothered by the notion of ghosts.

They had on matching blue shirts today. Jerseys of some sport Nesta knew nothing about. There were many teams in Velaris, she found, and she never knew if they were from a specific organization or just friends who went out in the world proclaiming that they fit together somehow. Nesta would never do such a thing.

She knew of one group who certainly would.

The youngest let go as he ran towards the laundry room. That was another thing that Nesta thought was strange. To wash clothes by spinning water and dry them using magic. Gods forbid, they hang one piece of cloth.

The boys stopped at the door and waited, and Nesta crossed her arms. “What’s wrong with it?”

“They think it’s haunted,” a voice said from behind.

Nesta turned to find the female leaning up against the tree. She recognized the voice—the light tilt of an accent.

Nesta eyed the fae, taking in the pink fuzzy slippers first. Bunnies, she thought. But Nesta’s gaze caught on the wings tucked so keenly behind her back.

Illyrian.

Nesta almost sighed out her displeasure.

“I gathered, after they said there were ghosts,” she replied.

“There are ghosts,” the eldest boy argued. He held up his hands. “Just wait.”

Nesta shrugged away the female and peered inside. White and dingy washers and dryers were stacked on top of one another. Dutiful soldiers all lined up on each wall. There was an old bubble gum machine at the farthest end that must have stopped working before she was born, because she saw no one ever use it when she came down. Granted Nesta didn’t do it often. But the number of gumballs didn’t seem any lower. It was rusted around the red base, and Nesta didn’t trust the age of the candy inside.  

There was nothing odd about this place, though. She didn’t feel anything off.

“There is no such thing as ghosts,” Nesta said, looking to the boys peering back into the laundry room. She refused to look once more at the female. She squared her shoulders, raised her chin, averted her eyes as she so often did—the way she was good at. Nesta could feel her stare any way.

“You have to believe us!”

“There’s a ghost Ms. Nesta.”

“Did you see a ghost?” Nesta asked, turning to the female who only shrugged a shoulder.

“I might have seen a shadow move around.”

Nesta almost gave her a glare.

“Wait look!”

“See!”

Both boys pointed to the room that began to be overrun by darkness. It reminded her of a shadowed cloud. It filled up the room like water in a bathtub, and Nesta stepped toward it, her brows furrowing as she reached a hand out to feel exactly what the substance was made of.

It felt soft as if she were running her hands down the back of some giant cat.

As if summoned by her thoughts alone, the shadow stepped out of the cloud.  

Meow.

Nesta rolled her eyes as it rubbed its body against her legs.

“It’s just the cat,” She mused.

The three of them merely looked at her as if she’d grown another arm.

Nesta crouched low; her hand held out scratch behind the little cat's ear. She’d forgotten she was holding the bun, and the cat seemed to smell it—to want it.

“Hey!” Nesta yelled, as the cat jumped on her shoulders. Nesta shifted the bun to the other hand, but it seemed to want to crawl down her arm, and she could feel the sharp claws sink into her skin.

“Stay away you mangy thing,” Nesta yelled in outrage. “Pay for your own!”  

The boys laughed, coming closer, petting the menace as the shadow cat purred.

Nesta looked for the female, but the Illyrian seemed to not find them interesting enough. She went back to perch on her tree, or whatever those with wings could do. She could already feel the touch of irritation. Of course, she’d be okay living on the fifth floor. She could fly easily up there without wasting a breath.

“You have a cat!” A voice yelled.

Nesta closed her eyes at the nasally tone.

Just. Her. Luck.  

“No,” the boys said in unison, but the landlord stormed towards them, all shrunken limbs and potted belly.

“I said no pets!” He raved.

“He’s not mine,” Nesta said even as she held it. The cat conveniently had not gotten off her shoulders. In fact, it seemed to want to lounge on them, and she hunched slightly at its claws on her back.

Her landlord sneered, “It sure looks like yours.”

“He’s been here since last fall.” Nesta tried for a haughtier tone, but she couldn’t very wall act arrogant when she couldn’t even stand straight. “He is not mine.”

The landlord wagged his finger, “Vagrant then. I’ll just ought to call the forest prowlers. They’ll tear right into him.”

Nesta blinked at that and she was sure the boys did, too.

“You can’t do that! He’s just a cat,” The oldest said.

“He’s not harming anyone,” The youngest argued. The child’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red and she watched as he clenched his fists while the oldest crossed his arms.

She had to admire them. When she was young, Nesta would have never been so bold. She learned to be bold after her mother had died, and it had done her no good in poverty. Nesta felt for them, felt for the cat—though she didn’t know what kind of creature could eat a shadow.

Nesta didn’t want to ask, but she held up her hand, feeling the regret already settle in her stomach.

“I lied. He is mine.”

Her landlord huffed as if he knew, but Nesta only gripped the cat as it came down her arms. She grasped it in the crook of her elbow. As its body dangled, its tail wagged lazily.

“Get rid of it, there are no pets allowed.”

“Unfortunately, it’s my brother-in-law's pet,” she said quickly, resisting the urge to gag at the phrase. “He told me to take care of it until he could take it back.”

The male paused at that. “Brother-in-law?”

Nesta hummed, “Brother-in-law. It was a gift for my sister, but... she’s allergic to cats. He’s looking to rehouse it. It seems he hasn’t found the right one yet.”

As the landlord sneered, opening and shutting his mouth, Nesta raised her chin. She felt the satisfaction thrum through her at the lie. She was good at making up stories. Perhaps she could find a job in lying through her teeth.

Nesta watched as he took a breath, his face dulling to a peach. She hoped that would be the end of it. She hoped that he’d never get the chance to ask her... brother-in-law... if the story was true. Nesta doubted he would do her any favors.

She didn’t want his favors.

In fact, she’d never mention him again.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to charge a pet deposit then. Nonrefundable. And of course, your rent is going to go up.”

Nesta dropped her custard bun.

“What?” She yelled. “Pets aren’t even allowed!"

“But as you have one, I’m going to have to change the terms of your lease. I’m sure your brother-in-law will have no problem fitting the bill as he’s done before.”

The little shadow cat meowed, wiggling in her arms. She set it down and Nesta watched as it disappeared back into the wall.

Good for nothing...

“You’ll have to keep it on a leash, too,” The male scowled, “I don’t want to break a leg going up the stairs because he’s running about.”

Nesta wanted to tell him that he could break more than just a leg.

“Oh, and make sure he isn't loud. I’d hate to have to terminate your lease early over a noise complaint.”

Her landlord smiled, dipping his head in a mocking bow as he went to yell at another neighbor coming down the stairs. The boys shirked away, looking to the laundry room again.  

Nesta could only kick at the bun at her feet. Now dusted in dirt.

~

Tagged: I’m sorry if you wanted to me tagged and I didn’t tag you. I’m horrible at tagging and you should never consider be reliable for this. I think I tagged everyone who has ever asked to be tagged in any of my random posts of fics. But that’s probably a lie. If you want off/on let me know. I will not be offended nor enthused. I will have only one list from now on. No individual fics. If you asked to be tagged, it’s for all fics. Be forewarned. I’m tired. I hate tag lists. 

@my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @arinbelle, @thewhelk, @daisy-in-danger, @highqueenevankhell, @valkyriae, @lovelynesta, @sirendeepity, @champanheandluxxury, @ladynestaarcheron, @moodymelanist, @teagoddess99, @spoilersteph, 

~

Nesta’s... a little misanthropic. We’re going to beat that out of her through love and healing. 

Personal Anecdote: I put a magnolia tree because at my university there was one in this random place on campus that you couldn’t find unless you knew where the post office was and I was obsessed with sending my mom cards to tell her I was still alive (She lived in a different state). No one ever went there, I never saw more than a few people or maybe they didn’t even know the post office was there. It was tucked in between buildings and it was the definition of serendipity. Little freshman me would go there and sit under it and sometimes eat a taco lol (fried avocado and barbacoa) when I was finished with classes. It bloomed every spring for about three weeks and I yearned for those weeks. I worked so many jobs, took so many classes, but during those weeks the only thing that existed was a tree of magenta and white. I sometimes really miss it. 

[nctsjiho]

King of Hearts

warnings: none

era: July 2021

❀ Lucas decides it’s time to take JiHo out for her first date

Leaned over the kitchen counter, rolling an orange from hand to hand, JiHo was deeply invested in the conversation she was having with her manager. Not Yebin, but her Esteem manager she was currently living with. The poor piece of fruit had suffered bruises from the few times the young girl had dropped it or tossed it too hard, but JiHo paid no mind as she listened to Sihyun – the manager – talk about the latest gossip in the model and acting industry. Yes, JiHo had the ‘privilege’, or whatever you wanted to call it, to get the insider-scoop about that industry before stuff got public, if it ever went public anyway.

Mid-conversation the two women heard the keypad of their front door beep, indicating that someone was trying to get inside. Usually this would concern the residents, definitely because they were the only ones living in the apartment, but Sihyun knew. She knew JiHo had practically given the password to their house to all her groupmates.

And even though Sihyun wasn’t initially comfortable with 23 men being able to walk inside her house at any given moment, she quickly came to terms with it when all the boys had been nothing but respectful of her privacy and 99% of the time would announce their arrival. The only times they did not announce it was during the early afternoon hours when they knew JiHo would be home alone, or on the occasional moment they would just forget. This time seemed like one of those moments.

“Hello princess!” A loud voice boomed through the apartment from the small corridor. Sihyun who stood on the other side of the counter had a clear visual of the surprise visitor and smiled watching his goofy stance. JiHo however didn’t need to take a look at him to know who the visitor was. “Took you long enough, how many days have you been in Korea already? And you hadn’t visited.” JiHo continued to play with the abused piece of fruit earning a scowl from Sihyun – she knew the girl wasn’t going to eat that orange afterwards and it would be headed straight for the bin.

Soon enough two long, strong arms slithered around the girl’s waist. “I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” JiHo felt her bar stool turn – it wasn’t even a swivel chair – until she was met with a bright smile. She couldn’t help herself but smile back, yet her smile quickly turned into a confused frown when she saw the bag in Lucas’ outstretched hand. “What’s this? A house warming gift? You know it’s a little late for that now.” Lucas just smiled as he shook his head. “We’re going on a date! Now go change.” He pushed the bag into JiHo’s lap.

The girl’s confused expression quickly turned into one of shock, while Sihyun just tried to contain her excited shrieks behind her hands. The 26 year old woman felt like she was watching some sort of K-drama and no one would blame her, since Lucas looked like a handsome main-lead with his hair styled back and wearing a nice pair of jeans along with a crisp looking white button up. Oh how Sihyun wished she could get him to agree to work under Esteem, but he was already successful enough getting modelling jobs without having to look for any. Every clothing brand and fashion magazine in Korea and China had their eyes on him already. Esteem had nothing more to offer to him.

“A date?” The boy – man might be a more appropriate title for him – nodded his head wildly, messing his hair up a bit in the meantime. “Why?” “Because I heard you’ve had a stressful time these past months and so I want you to relax. Plus! I missed you and I want to hang out.” JiHo’s face softened at the confession, but she couldn’t help but feel the nerves flutter in her stomach. “But we can hang out inside and just order some food or something-“ The feigned disappointed shake of Lucas’ head cut JiHo off mid-sentence. “Chenle told me you’ve been playing Valorant every day after your schedules, practise and recordings. It’s time for you to get your butt outside.” Before JiHo could protest a sigh from behind the kitchen counter caught their attention.

Sihyun’s eyes widened as she saw the two young idols look at her, but she quickly regained her composure. “I agree with Lucas. You seriously need to leave this house more.” “I have been! I literally went skateboarding all the time with Yangyang this month.” JiHo defended, yet Lucas faked a cough to grab her attention. “What?” “I’ve heard you haven’t went since that last time when you invited He-“ “Okay! I’ll get dressed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” JiHo pushed herself of the chair and ran towards her room. Lucas and Sihyun both just smiled knowingly before engaging in a conversation together.

Dresses weren’t completely foreign territory for JiHo, she had worn a handful now for work and she was well aware that her taste in fashion had changed over the past few months. She now wasn’t completely opposed to wearing a dress casually, even though this had not yet happened so far. However, as she looked at the dress she felt her hands get a bit sweaty.

It wasn’t that the dress was ugly, or too revealing. Not at all. It was just that JiHo actually really liked it, she didn’t know how to react. Slipping the yellow fabric over her head, she noticed how the dress fit like a glove, as if it was made for her. It was a silly thought, but somehow JiHo felt like she was having her princess moment right now – which was fitting because this was all thanks to Lucas who liked to call her princess. For once JiHo felt super feminine in a comfortable way and she wouldn’t like to admit it, but she really loved the feeling.

JiHo quickly put on one of the necklaces Lucas had bought her months, maybe even years ago, did her makeup in record time – well the makeup really only consisted of mascara and a lip tint – and made sure her hair looked acceptable to go out. Once finished she walked back to Lucas who was still talking to Sihyun.

“Oh you look so cute!” Sihyun almost squealed causing JiHo to roll her eyes. “I’m ready to go.” The young girl said to catch Lucas attention. He turned his body so he could see JiHo standing beside him. It took a few seconds before Lucas could form the right words to say, taken aback by how different JiHo looked right then. “Wow~ You look even prettier right now.”

The bright smile and breathy words coming from Lucas didn’t fail to make JiHo flustered. She’d already gotten used to Lucas calling her ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’ a lot of times and she knew that he meant it every time, but right now the words just seemed to register differently and catch her off guard.

An open hand “harshly” made contact with Lucas’ arm to which he winced. “Let’s just go.” JiHo mumbled going to the corridor where her shoes and bags were located.

Lucas couldn’t stop himself from helping to choose a bag and a pair of shoes for JiHo which he thought would fit best with her outfit. “Where are we even going?” She asked curiously after slipping on a pair of low, cream, sandal-like heels. “It’s a surprise, but we’re definitely getting some food as well and we won’t have to walk too much. So don’t worry.” He teased, but JiHo couldn’t help but smile. “You know me too well.”

To say that JiHo needed this “date” was an understatement; with how she was beaming and laughing nonstop, Lucas could’ve sworn that if JiHo was locked up in her apartment one more day she would’ve completely lost it. He could visibly see how the tension in JiHo’s muscles melted away. The twinkle her eyes held looked so innocent and childlike, as if she was experiencing things for the first time. And as the duo now sat across each other at a table in one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the area, Lucas couldn’t move his gaze from the everlasting smile on JiHo’s face boosting his pride.

“I didn’t know there was a butterfly garden in Seoul.” JiHo deeply exhaled, thinking back at how beautiful all the butterflies looked up close. “Did you like it?” Lucas asked, awaiting a positive answer. When JiHo’s eyes widened, Lucas started to get slightly worried, but the girl’s passionate answer quickly eased his nerves. “What do you think? I loved it! Every part. The butterfly garden, the café, and now this restaurant.” She then shoved the piece of steak that was on her fork into her mouth, not waiting until she had swallowed it she continued, “I think this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

A low chuckle left Lucas’ lips as he watched JiHo chew and swallow the rest of her food. “I should take you out more often then.” He smiled, mostly to himself, but JiHo perked up at his words. “Hm? Why?” Lucas looked up to meet JiHo’s eyes. “I mean, today was great, so yeah I’d definitely wouldn’t mind doing this again. But why would you want to?” “Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this beautifully before.”

At his words JiHo couldn’t help but blush, the comment completely catching her of guard. She wondered how after those years of compliments Lucas managed to make her blush like that, but somehow, today, Lucas had found a way so that any- and everything he said or did would make her feel like a young teenage girl going on a date with her crush.

“You always try to be so professional and even if you have fun and play around sometimes, it’s like you’re always on your toes. Seeing you let go and genuinely be happy, being able to forget about your worries, it looks absolutely stunning on you JiHo.” JiHo looked down at her now empty plate before mumbling, “Did China turn you into a cheesy heartthrob or what’s up with you?” It was barely a question and definitely a coping mechanism – JiHo didn’t know how to react to Lucas sincerity – but Lucas was all for it, laughing at how adorable JiHo looked.

“What? Are you falling in love with me princess?” JiHo looked up with a gasp. “Don’t call me that in public! If someone hears you and recognises us, dating rumours are definitely going to spread and SM won’t be happy.” JiHo scolded, but Lucas could only laugh. She was clearly just trying to avoid the question because she was already very aware that Lucas rented out the whole rooftop for the two of them, no one would be able to hear them. And even if she did forget, with just one glance it would’ve been obvious it was only the two of them there, besides the 2 waiters who were enjoying their own conversation at the bar.

Once the duo had finished their dinner and after they continued talking for about 2 hours afterwards, they headed back to JiHo’s apartment. Luckily all the boys’ dorms weren’t too far away from the apartment, so Lucas wasn’t rushing to get her home or to leave after she arrived safely.

“You really didn’t have to walk all the way up here. You’re acting like we’re in some teenage chick flick.” JiHo smiled as she pushed in the code into her door’s keylock. With that Lucas leaned against the wall next to her – in the most cliché way – while sending her a smile of his own. “Do you not like it?” The keylock dinged at the correct input and JiHo began to push open the door with one hand, the other hand pushing at Lucas’ chest. “Careful or I’ll tell Yuta oppa about this and I don’t think he’d be too happy.” For a second Lucas smile faded as he felt the tiniest bit of fear arise at the though of his hyung’s possible reaction, but his smile returned just as quickly. “I’m sure he won’t after he sees all the pretty pictures I took of you today.”

Again JiHo felt her cheeks flare up just the slightest, but this time purely out of embarrassment. “Don’t show those pictures to anyone.” “But you looked pretty today. And it’s not as if the boys haven’t see you wearing a dress before.” JiHo just shook her head and sent him a warning glare. “But I don’t mind being the only one who’s allowed to see you look this pretty- Ouch! What was that for?” The boy held his arm where he just got pinched.  “For being annoying.”

A pout formed on Lucas’ lips but it quickly got wiped away once JiHo pulled him into a quick hug, making sure the front door didn’t fall back into the lock with her foot keeping it open. “Thanks for today. Thanks for being my prince and taking me out on my first date.” Normally JiHo would cringe at her own words, but somehow every ounce of shame was thrown out of the window now that she was around Lucas. “It really was your first date huh?” He smirked, cocking one brow. “Yeah yeah, now don’t go ‘bragging’ about it to the others, okay?” However Lucas just smirked again as he began making his way to the elevator. “No promises princess!” JiHo hushed him, but he was already inside the elevator, doors closing behind him. “Oh God, Doyoung, Yuta and Kun are all going to kill him.” She mumbled to herself walking into her apartment.

Just as the door closed behind her she heard her phone vibrate. And then vibrate again. Until it just became one constant buzz. Looking at her phone she saw the notifications of the NCT group chat along with the words ‘Lucas and JiHo’ as well as ‘date’ and ‘princess’. Shaking her head in disbelief and deciding to ignore the messages until tomorrow, JiHo mumbled to herself again. “At least if I don’t get to him and kill him first.”

---

Side Note: The only reason that this writing is called ‘King of Hearts’ is for me to tell you that you should listen to that song. Winwin’s vocals 👌 Yangyang’s last verse 👌 Hendery during that live performance of this song in Bangkok (he’s so hot and talented, please stan him)👌 How this song was literally made for Lucas 👌 Yes I’ve listened to it 10+ times on repeat one day and I’d gladly do it again!

Also someone tell me to stop posting every other day, why am I doing this to myself also me feeling writing/creative withdrawal when I don’t post😅 

Have a nice day/evening/night loves 🤍💚🤍

[noctis-noctua]

I, Kaeya Alberich, Take Thee

Pairing: Kaeya x Fem. Reader

Count: 1976

Description: Kaeya knows that be does not deserve anything he desires. There is nothing he can do to make you his, but so badly does he wish there was.

Content: Unrequited love, angst, bittersweet ending, marriage.

Warnings: Slight spoiler for Kaeya's backstory but an addition of (non-canon!) Prince Kaeya.

In another universe, maybe I am not cursed so by the Gods. Kaeya resists the urge to nibble on the tail-end of his quill. It was unbecoming for a man of his stature to succumb to unsanitary habits. Plus, this particular pen hailed from a crow’s feather, hunted by the hands of a childhood friend. The intricate quill had not been put to use for a substantial amount of time, but it fits into Kaeya’s hand as if it came to shape its spine based on the curvature of his own grasp. He could get used to signing off documents and organizing civil affairs if it meant succumbing to such mundane sensations. The morning sun dripping onto his mahogany desks and floors, a faint scratch of keratin against ivory paper filling the empty space… It has been a long time since he’s made the decision to take over petty bureau duties. Today is a special day. Kaeya needs to focus on the satisfying echoes of paper and pen, on the sunlight heating his back, or he might just go insane.

    The clamor of bells tugs Kaeya from his mechanical performance. Each ring is a song of desperation, a performance begging for his attention. Come out and celebrate! Indulge in the pain. He is not a man that falls prey to anger, but he cannot help that frustrated itch in his stomach as he hears the iron reverberating. Please just be quiet, Kaeya thinks. Let me forget. The hesitant croak of his door alerts Kaeya to the presence of the Acting Grand Master. She dons an outfit unique from her usual uniform - a cream-colored dress, embroidered by floral lace, a single azure ribbon tying at the waist. So even the straight-edged Jean has taken time off today? 

    “Kaeya, you can’t make these excuses forever.” He knows from how Jean closes the door with unperturbed silence that this is not a conversation regarding hilichurl nests or Fatui diplomats. He can tell from the way Jean drops the mature title of ‘Sir’ in favor of his childhood nickname, that it is a conversation Jean feels must be approached with gentleness as if Kaeya is a stray cat that claws at feeding hands. The Grand Master releases a heaved exhale because both of them dread this discussion as much as the other. There is an inherent wrong in seeing Kaeya distressed. He may not be shedding tears in solitude or resigning himself to the dormitories, but he is hiding, and that is enough for Jean to observe that he is not functioning as normal.

    “Please, come for a little while. I know it’s not… something you want to see, but he’s your brother. Offer a small congratulations at the least.” Her heels tap on the polished hardwood.

    “I was planning on coming by later this evening.  Tell them I’m sorry for not being able to attend the main event. How could I? Just look at all this paperwork.” Kaeya’s signature chuckle follows, putting up a front of careless flirtation. It is not uncommon for Jean to rope the Cavalry Captain into his desk chair. Lord knows he’d never do it otherwise… yet now he claims servitude to the dulling labor. How ironic. 

    “I’ll tell them of your apologies… but both of us know that paperwork isn’t the reason you can’t make it.” Jean turns around, blonde hair trailing in the breeze left behind before Kaeya can quip up a rebuttal. She’s right. Jean is always right. The papers piling on his desk are from the drawers of his subordinates, filed away to be completed in another five months' time. There is no reason they had to be done today. He is hiding. He is a coward and a pathetic one at that. The thought alone provokes Kaeya to tug on his studded gloves and push out his chair. His sights are set on leaving because to be seen as a frail child is to fail at the sole thing he succeeds at. Being the chivalrous Cavalry Captain renowned for his beauty and failsafe charm is the one thing he cannot lose because he cannot let Mondstadt see how fragile he is behind the visage. 

    Mondstadt’s avenues are bustling. Oak tables identical to the ones across local taverns have been dressed in linen tablecloths and topped with miniature feasts. Children run between tables, tugging at each other’s shirts in a feisty game of tag as festive music tempts the adults to a dance. The tell-tale strums of Mondstadt’s No. 1 Bard’s lyre lead the crowds to the statue of Barbatos. Behind it, trails of petals line the paths leading to the limestone Cathedral. Couples, singles, and families alike make haste to enter through the carved doors. No one wants to miss this. Kaeya tugs on the collar of his fur coat, gazing at the entry before him. He can hear the music of an organ, romantic and rich, ricocheting from inside. 

    He steps into the Cathedral. The ceremony has yet to start and the pews continue to fill. Citizens scoot as close as possible to allow for more onlookers to take a seat. He finds a spot next to Huffman and a few other Knights, squished on the outer edge. It is three benches from the front. Too close for Kaeya to be comfortable. The croaking benches have long since met their capacity by now. Not a soul is missing, Kaeya reckons. Diluc Ragnvindr, the wine Tycoon, Mondstadt’s famous magnate, is marrying after all. It is no small occasion. Diluc’s brazen hair is a torch amidst fog, its perk hue garnering the eyes of all in the Cathedral. He is dressed in a suave black suit. It boasts minuscule gold embellishments followed by a hefty crimson cape draped on his shoulders. Even dressed in the furs and fabrics of royalty, one could sense a distinct awkwardness from him. If you’re going to marry her, at least look confident, brother. 

    It hurts. He cannot lie to himself - not that Kaeya was trying to in the first place. There is a pain associated with seeing the woman he loves marrying the brother that no longer desires to even speak to him. Now, Kaeya regrets standing up from his busy work. These thoughts won’t stop their festering, and it punches a hole through his stomach. Kaeya is all-too-aware that tonight, you will climb into Diluc’s sheets. He’d treat you kindly, of course. He grew up with Diluc and has seen his rigorous nobility tutors shape him into the gentleman he is today. There is no doubt that you will live a lavish life of luxury. A life Kaeya could never afford to give you. 

    In Khaenri’ah, Kaeya’s title of ‘Prince’ holds as much merit as it does in Teyvat. His people are dead or suffering. His city has crumbled into dust and shards of a forgotten legacy. Kaeya himself serves one purpose, and that is to bring glory back to the Eclipse Dynasty. It is in these times that Kaeya regrets being born royalty to a lost nation. In the solace of his chambers, Kaeya would stare at the painted ceiling and ponder. If I were born someone else entirely, would you give me a chance? But who is he kidding? Kaeya knows he’s handsome. It’s stupid and unreasonable to be so self-deprecating. He isn’t the one marrying you because he wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr. He wasn’t from a line of Mondstadtian heroes; he was from the ashes of sinners and embers of civilization. He was Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, caught between familial loyalty and a stinging betrayal. Of course he wasn’t marrying you. 

    The Cathedral doors groan as the nuns heave them open. Light floods in and frames the feminine body of the lady of Mondstadt. In your hands, a bouquet of calla lilies. On your body, a silken robe of pearls and diamonds. It flows at your back, fluttering in the blessed gales of Barbatos’. Kaeya swore that as a Khaenri’ahn, he would never see the Gates of Celestia. But this… this, he thinks, might be the closest glimpse he gets. No one dares to speak. She is beautiful. She has always been beautiful. Time slows as Kaeya lets himself take in the sight of you pledging your livelihood to his brother, and his brother’s livelihood to you. 

     Then, as if he is an innocent child once again, Kaeya closes his eyes as you two kiss. Clapping and cheers fill the atmosphere. 

    “To the Ragnvindr’s! Oley!”

    “Say, Kaeya, do you ever wanna get married?” The girl questions from Kaeya’s backside. 

    “Maybe. Then I can show off in front of my lovely wife! That would be cool, wouldn’t it, Diluc?” Kaeya jests, elbowing his step-brother’s chest. Diluc rolls his eyes, ever the prodigy. 

    “We’re still young. There’s no use thinking about such things. Shouldn’t you focus on training?” He grumbles. Kaeya knows that he will never have a lucky wife. He will never have a healthy family, or a thriving home, or a genuine relationship. Those are nothing more than dreams to Kaeya.

    The girl grabs Kaeya’s arm and begins running into the fields of grapes and firs. There is a childlike giggle dispersing for all in the neighborhood to hear, fading out as they lose sight of the manor. Reaching the edge of the cliffside, they halt. It overlooks a sapphire river below, fit for one of Master Crepus’ paintings. Diluc had been abandoned long ago. 

    “Hey, Kaeya, the water kind of looks like your hair.” The girl remarks, nuzzling closer to him. He feels his heart thrashing in its cage, begging him not to react, begging him not to ruin the fate of his country. To the girl, he smells of linen, lampgrass, and sweat, much as a kid his age should. Silence settles onto their shoulders, both of them catching breaths that had been stolen in the wind. “I didn’t ask before because I thought Diluc would get mad, but… Kaeya, how about we get married when we grow up?” How silly, Kaeya thinks. I couldn’t marry you if I wanted to. 

    “Hmm, okay. So you’ll be my lucky wife then?” Kaeya plummets down onto the grass and grins. It tickles the back of his neck and stains his blouse a verdant green. He dreams of dreaming, because that is all Khaenri’ahns like him can do. He dreams of coming home to your embrace or trudging back from battle hand-in-hand. Either one is okay. Anything with you is okay. 

    “Of course, stupid. That’s what marriage is. So you’ll be my lucky husband!” Lucky husband. It fills his heart with an immature pride too chaste for a traitor of his caliber. 

    “Deal!” 

    “Deal.” 

    They are naive children making impossible promises, but a part of Kaeya has never unlatched from those delicate whispers. Khaenri’ahns dream of dreaming, but just this once, Kaeya wished he could dream of you.

    “So, Sir Kaeya, are you going to marry soon? Youth is fleeting! Get a wife while you’re young.” One of the Knights suggests, sliding him a suggestive beam. Kaeya let’s himself open his eyes. He processes the blinding light from colored panes of glass spilling over him, the jovial expressions of the citizens he has sworn to protect, and you grasping onto Diluc’s arm, a longing of adoration phasing across your features. Happy. You are happy. He turns towards the knight, cracking a smile.

    “Don’t be silly - I’m already married, Huffman.” He lets the novice soldier ogle at him for a few seconds. “I’m joking. Lighten up.” Huffman releases a hearty chortle, commenting on his Captain’s sense of humor and putting a hand to his chest. He laughs along, but Kaeya knows there is no joke. 

Don’t be silly. I’m already married. It was a deal, after all.

[suchalonelysunflower]

“One of the Boys” (M.C)

Pairings: Michael Clifford X Reader

Summary: College!AU ~ Friends to Lovers. You and Michael are best friends since forever, that’s why you feel the need to hide your crush on him. But when he makes a hurtful comment, you are determined to prove him wrong. Could that be enough to make him love you?

Warnings: The reader uses she/her pronouns, I’m sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable with that, it was not my intention. Angst with fluffy parts. Language, low self esteem issues, cheating (a little bit, it depends on how you view it) one sexual reference and some grammar and syntax errors (English it’s not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 5.5K

Author’s Note: My first Michael Fic! I waited so long and it’s finally here ✨ This is slyghtly based on a personal experience (mine didn’t have this ending) I hope you like it! Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcomed, I love to hear from you guys 💕 You can read my other works HERE 🦋

You had to admit it, you weren’t exactly a very ‘feminine’ girl. But that the hell was wrong with that? Yes, you preferred leggings and big hoodies over skirts and tight dresses. Yes, you skateboarded everyday to school and hanged out with boys all the time, drinking beers instead of fancy little cocktails. Yes, you never really cared about boy bands or artists like Justin Bieber or Drake. And yes, you would rather die than have high heels on for more than 2 hours straight. But that’s just who you are, how you’ve always been. His comment shouldn’t have hurt that much, but why are you crying about it?

You have been roomates with Michael since you two started college. You always joked about how you were going to live together someday and have a fridge full of junk food and soda. Well, now you do (except from the junk food part, that proved to be an awful experience)

To be honest, you didn’t have that many friends besides him and your other four knuckleheads you know and love from your early school days. Luke was the youngest of all of you, and maybe that’s why everybody thought he was the innocent one (even though he was the mastermind of almost every prank you ever pulled) Calum was the shy one, as people would put it, but just get to know him a little bit and you wouldn’t be able to shut him up. Ashton is supposedly the mature one, but his quick-witted mind and his inability of staying put in a place gives him the same amount of energy as a five year old. And then there was Michael, your best friend, there isn’t a time in your life where Michael wasn’t by your side, weather it was for pulling a prank on someone, skipping school or just playing video games in his basement, he was always there. So moving in together was a no brainer.

The friendship consisted on having the same level of confidence as an old married couple, trusting each other with everything, nothing being off limits, well, except for one thing…

You and Michael were friends and nothing more. That was clear for both of you. For years you both ignored the teasing and assumptions of you guys being a couple. Just the idea of it seeming so absurd to even imagine. But there’s a fine line between love and friendship.

Over the last few years, you began to think that the idea of being Michael’s girlfriend didn’t sound so bad after all. It was impossible to pin the pivotal point of that thought, but somehow somewhere along the road, you started to feel more flustered every time he leaned into a hug, felt butterflies in your stomach with each look he speared your way or how he said your name with such a caring tone. You found yourself thinking of him more often than not, especially on how his arms would look around you waist, how it will feel to be loved by him, to kiss him…

But you couldn’t think like that, not about your best friend. So it’s better to keep it hidden in the deepest part of your soul, praying to whoever’s above that it will go away soon, but when does that ever work?

Maybe that’s why his comment hurt so bad.

It was a lazy Monday, you didn’t have to work today and that meant you could spend your afternoon beating Michael’s ass in video games. But you couldn’t concentrate with your thoughts wandering over the man who owns your heart. It was the third time you let him win in Mario Kart when he caught on your mood.

“You really suck today, huh?” Michael asked as he watches Mario celebrate yet another victory.

“Or maybe you’re finally getting good” You replied, resting your head lazily in one hand, not taking your eyes from the screen.

Michael furrowed his brows, worrying as he heard a light sigh come out of your lips “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, but you don’t seem to hear him, so he accommodates himself on the couch in order to look at you properly and puts a hand on your leg, just right above the knee “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You say, finally lifting your gaze in order to meet his and oh, how you wish you didn’t. Lost in the sea of those green eyes that consumed every thought of your mind, you felt yourself blushing under him and trying very hard not to think on his hand touching your thigh “What? No, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Liar. You let me win, that never happens. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong”

“Y/N,”

“Nothing’s wrong, Michael. I swear”

His eyes scanned you, knowing damn well something was up.

“Well,” He said, patting your leg, softly “If you’re not gonna tell me… Then I will make you”

Before you could even comprehend what he meant by that, he was already leaning over your figure with a devilish grin as his hands traveled to your sides and started tickling you mercilessly.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you couldn’t contain the laughter that came over you. Begging him to stop, you tried to escape his grip, but it wasn’t the first time this had happened and you know this is a fight you can’t. Michael joined in laughter as he came closer to you, pinning you under him on the sofa.

But suddenly, his movements stop as he becomes very aware of the position you’re in. You give one last laugh before turning to face him, only to find him already staring at you. You shudder under his gaze as you realize the way his legs are intertwined with yours, wondering if it’s his cellphone on the pocket of his shorts or something else is brushing up against your lower body.

Michael’s eyes never leave yours as your breath becomes even. And he couldn’t help but notice the way that your lips parted slightly, almost inviting him for a taste.

“Hey, dude, sorry to bother you but.. Oh shit, you’re fucking on the couch?” A voice came through the door, making you push Michael onto the floor before getting caught in that position. Raising your head over the sofa, you were met by Ashton and Luke’s grin disappearing from their faces as your face came to view “Oh, it’s just Y/N. WAIT, Were you fucking Y/N?!”

Rolling your eyes and giving them the middle finger, you stand up from the couch, regretting ever giving them a key in the first place, and went straight to the bathroom, trying to hide the red of your cheeks.

But just before you could close the door, you heard Michael say “What are you talking about? It Y/N! She’s practically one of the boys!”

He didn’t mean to hurt you. He had good intentions with that comment, of course he did. But you couldn’t stop overthinking it, crying at the thought of you being so unattractive in his eyes.

“So he wants a girly girl?” You thought, already planning a strategy “I’ll show him, then”

That’s how it started. You began to wear the dresses that were long forgotten on your wardrobe, you started using makeup and styling your hair in something other than a messy bun.

It was confusing at first and not at all what you were used to, but there was a new energy surrounding you, a confident one. You were going to show Michael that you could be feminine, maybe that way he’ll notice you in a ‘more than just a friend’ kinda way.

The first time the boys saw you with your new look they were all sharing breakfast in your kitchen. With your apartment being closer to campus they might as well move in.

“Good morning, guys” You said cheerfully, not looking at anyone in particular.

They all stared at you, looking at you up and down. And just before you could reach the cereal box, the questions started coming.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Y/N why are you dressed like a girl? IS THAT MAKE UP?”

“Do you have a date? It’s 8 am on a Tuesday! Who are they? Vampires?”

“Who are you and what did you do to our Y/N?”

“Is the simulation broken?”

“Shhh” You said, raising the palm of your hand as you poured cereal in a bowl “It’s too damn early for any of you to do that much noise and I haven’t had my coffee yet” As in que, Ashton passed you your usual mug “Thank you, and to answer some of your inquiries. 1) Nothing’s going on, Calum. 2) I happen to be a girl, Luke. Thank you for noticing. 3) I do not have a date, nor I should use that as an excuse to put on some nice clothes. I just,, felt like it” You took a long sip from the hot beverage “The simulation broke down a long time ago and I’m still me. I’m just wearing different clothes, that’s all. Right, Mikey?”

Michael choked with his toast, coughing as he tried to gain some composure “Yeah, you look… great” He said with a shy smile, and he was right. The others joined in with the compliments, hyping and teasing you about how he will have to be more protective of you because you will sure bring home some hot dates looking like that.

It’s been a couple of weeks since that morning and everyday Michael complimented you. You’d be lying if you say that every word he says doesn’t fill your heart with butterflies. Maybe there’s a possibility that he feels the same way.

It was a pretty uneventful evening in the little coffee shop where you worked. You didn’t have many clients today, so the dim lights and the sweet voice of Hozier that blasted through the speakers allowed you to daydream. Michael’s face popped out in your mind, smiling as you remembered the way that he looked at you this morning. Finally proving that you were more than just “One of the boys”

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the bell chime when the door opened, only waking up when you saw those same eyes that had you smiling just a minute ago standing in front of you, staring at you as well.

“Hey Y/N! How’s it going?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Nothing much” You shrug “Just the same amount of pain and tiredness of the average college experience” Michael rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. That’s when a giggle caught your attention.

The most beautiful woman you ever laid your eyes on was standing next to Michael. She had the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and her wavy hair complemented her face like an angel. She sure didn’t seem real, how did you not notice her when she entered? Were you really that busy focusing on Michael?

“I can totally relate to that” The girl said with a smile, god even her smile was perfect.

“Y/N, this is Veronica. Veronica, Y/N” Michael introduced.

You smiled politely at her and she did the same “Oh, the famous Y/N! I heard a lot about you, I can’t wait to get to know you better”

Um, what? Michael has been talking about you? To her? You couldn’t tell if it was good or a bad sign.

“Really? Well, don’t believe anything he says. Unless they are good things, then he’s right”

“Okay! Thank you, Y/N” He interrupted, mocking annoyance “I’ll take my usual please, darling. And she will have…”

“Just a mocha, please”

You nodded “Coming right up” You smiled at her as she walked to a table. Michael leaned over the counter and whispered.

“Could you do one of those drawing people do in the coffee? She will love that. Thanks.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek and walked away, sitting close to Veronica in one of the booths just before he could notice the way your cheeks turned to a much brighter red.

An hour passes. Then two. Then two and a half. And you were standing there, acting as a witness of their chemistry. You cursed yourself as your eyes drifted towards them, watching them laugh and talk about life. It was clear that Michael was enchanted by her, moving closer and closer every time, and you could tell the feeling was mutual as she laid her delicate hand on his.

Of course Michael would go for the pretty girls. Veronica was gorgeous, you couldn’t pinpoint a single defect on that girl, not even with a magnifying glass and you hated that. You hated the fact that he brought her here, you hated the fact that you have to work while his love story unfolds like a Taylor Swift song, you hated that it you weren’t the one sitting next to him, talking about dreams and how everything just collides perfectly within the universe. But that’s not your story.

“Earth calling Y/N?” A voice calls in front of you “Hello?”

You blink a few times and stare at the tall blond man waving his hand in front of your face “Sorry, Luke. Didn’t see you there” You excuse yourself “What can I get for you?”

“The usual, but this time with at least four more shots of espresso. I have to put an all nighter again cause I have that stupid presentation and you are not listening to me again”

“Sorry, what? Four shots of espresso, yeah.” Your gaze averted his “Anything else?”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Luke followed where your eyes led and soon he was, too, staring at the reason of your distraction “Oh”

Out of the four of them, Luke was the only one who knew about your feelings for Michael. He was always very supportive and didn’t pressure you into confessing right away, knowing it must be hard for you. So he can’t imagine what is going on inside your head right now, watching the man you love on a date.

“He didn’t tell me he had a date” You told him.

“He mentioned this morning” Luke added “Said he met her at one of his classes and that she seemed cool. So he asked her out. He never told us he would bring her here “You clenched your jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay. Luke noticed that “I’m sorry, love. I thought he told you about it”

“She is gorgeous, Luke”

“She’s not you, though” You scoffed.

“Exactly”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine,” You lied “Really, I’m okay. It was a silly crush anyway. And plus, look how happy he looks”

And it was true. Michael did look very happy chatting and flirting with Veronica. His smile reaching his eyes as she spoke and laugh at all his jokes. He truly must like her, and you… Well, some people are just meant to be the side character of another person’s story.

Luke let out a sigh, knowing well enough to assume you are just going to bury your feelings like you always do “He will soon realize what he’s missing”

************************************************

Well, six months passed and he still hasn’t realized. It’s been six month since that fateful evening where you got your heart broken by the man you love. It’s been six months since Veronica has been a constant part of your daily life, sleeping over, joining on movie nights and replaced your spot next to your best friend. It’s been six months of dressing more ‘girly’, wearing make-up and doing your nails, all of it trying to call Michael’s attention, to make you look more like Veronica, more like someone you are not. And all of that for what? You still ended up crying yourself to sleep almost every night.

Luke has been there for you all this time, letting you crash in his place whenever she came over and trying to distract you from the heartache by making jokes or goofing around, sometimes even letting you stay the night just to talk or cry or whatever you needed.

Tonight, however, it was a special night. Michael texted you saying that he finally found the movie you were dying to see for years! It was a special straight to dvd movie with Betty White that you remember it being your favorite growing up but you could never find it anywhere. And to say that you were ecstatic when Michael suggested a movie night for the two of you, would be an understatement.

You got the popcorn ready, ordered some pizzas and the ice cream was in the freezer. It was the first time in months that you would have time alone with Michael and, honestly, you missed him like crazy. Yes, you know he lives there, but it’s been a while since you guys actually talked or shared a good laugh together. Putting your feelings towards him aside, you just missed your best friend.

Suddenly, the bell rang. It wasn’t uncommon for Michael to forget his keys, so you weren’t really surprised.

“How many times do I have to tell you that we bought you that keychain for a reason and-“ But it wasn’t Michael standing at the door “Veronica.. I thought you were Michael”

The girl smiled, (really, not even a chip tooth?) “Yeah, he told me he’ll be a little late and that I should just go ahead” She said as she made her way into the apartment.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I love movie night!”

He invited her. It was a moment for the two of you and he invited her.

You couldn’t be mad, could you? She’s his girlfriend, after all. She could be here and he had every right to invite her, but… But it still hurt. You thought you’d be spending the evening with your best friend, he said you would. It was a special movie for the both of you, why invite her?

“Can I be honest with you, Y/N?” Veronica said, pulling you away from your mind.

“Uh, sure”

“I have to admit, I was really intimidated by you”

“By me? Why?”

“Well, when Michael talked about you I always thought I had to compete for his attention. It was always Y/N this, Y/N that… He assured me that you were just friends, but I didn’t believe him until I met you. I love that he has a friend like you. You really mean a lot to him so, thank you”

You nodded and muttered a “no problem”

She was right, you were just a friend of Michael’s. Why did you ever think you could be more? Especially with someone like her in his life? It was foolish, it was crazy. He would never look at you the same so, why keep trying?

“So, what are we watching?”

“Oh, um… I don’t know. I’m not staying” You said, hiding the pain in your voice.

“But Michael told me-“

“I’m spending the night at Luke’s today. I totally forgot”

You rushed out of the living room and went straight to your room, letting the tears fall as you started packing for a few days. You needed to get away as soon as possible. You couldn’t handle staying here at the moment, it hurt too much.

Just as you were packing the last pieces of clothing, you heard Michael opening the front door. And surely, a few moments later he was pushing yours open.

“What do you mean you’re not staying tonight?” He barged in.

Your back was facing him, so you couldn’t see him, you didn’t want to see him, but he sounded hurt. Quickly, you wiped your tears with the back of the hand and tried to muttered something close to an unbothered tone.

“I’m going to Luke’s”

“You always go to Luke’s, are you two a thing or something? Because you seem to live there more than here”

You let out a small laugh, was he really that dense?

“There’s nothing going on between me and Luke-“

“Then why are you always in his place?”

“It’s none of your business”

“Well, Y/N it is. It is because I wanted you to spend the night because we rarely see each other anymore and now you’re ditching me again!”

He raised his voice a bit, clearly frustrated and confused. That alone made your anger take the best of you.

“Oh please, as if you really want me here”

Michael frowned “What does that suppose to mean?”

“Why did you invite her?”

“Veronica? She’s my girlfriend, I though-“

“I know that she’s your girlfriend, I get it. It’s just-“ You took a deep breath, trying not to cry or scream or both “It’s just that tonight was special, and I wanted to share that with my best friend. Only with my best friend. But I feel like everytime we try to do something together she’s always there and-“

“You don’t like her?”

“What? No, that’s the worst part. I actually think she’s great” You turned around and closed your bag, ready to leave “Michael I’m not going start a fight, I’m going to stay with Luke for a while. Don’t wait up”

You made your way out of the room, but before you could reach the door Michael’s hand grabbed you by the arm, making you stop.

“Michael” You warned “Let me go”

“No, wait. What do you mean with ‘that’s the worst part’?”

“I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“Yes, you are” Michael made you turn around. You were now looking at him in the eyes, he seemed hurt but you,, oh, you were in pain “Y/N, what is going on? You’ve been avoiding me lately, you’re not staying home, you don’t talk to me anymore, you’re dressing differently and sneaking out everytime I’m here. Is it because of Veronica?” You shook your head, slightly “Then what is it? Why are you pulling away from me?”

“Because it’s too damn hard!” You say looking away from him, unable to contain the tears any longer.

Michael’s eyes winded at your answer. His lips parted in surprise at your sudden outburst, wanting nothing more than to hold you but knowing you won’t let him.

“What?”

“You don’t get it, do you? No, you never did” You cry silent tears as your voice comes barely above a whisper “I can’t stay here because it hurts. Everytime I’m here she’s here too, like a reminder of everything I’m not. And I’ve tried-“ you choke “I tried to look more pretty, to be more ‘girly’ and feminine, losing myself every day. Hoping that maybe you’ll notice”

“Notice what?” Michael said softly.

You let out a breath.

“That I’m in love with you, you idiot”

Michael was taken aback by your answer, but he still wasn’t letting go of your arm. You love him? That’s what’s this all about?

“But I know you don’t feel the same. You never did and you never will. After all, I’m just Y/N. Just ‘one of the boys’ am I not?” He didn’t respond “It’s okay, I came to terms with that, I wouldn’t expect you to say something anyways” You released yourself from his grip and grabbed the last bag that laid on your bed “I’ll stay with Luke tonight and I’ll pick up my stuff in a few days”

Michael shook his head, as if he just realized what you just said “Wait, you’re moving?”

“What do you want me to do, Michael? Stay here? Pretend that things will be the same after this?! Go and have a movie night with your girlfriend and say that everything’s okay when I’m tearing myself apart in front of you?” You ask out of anger “I can’t do that, Michael. I need time”

“Y/N-“

“Why do you care anyways? I’m not a main character in your life. I’m not the type of girl you would fall for, or that you would consider feminine enough. I’m not pretty enough or funny enough and I’m tired of that. I’m tired of being an afterthought”

You turned around, already reaching for the doorknob when Michael’s hand wrapped around your waist, twisting you so your back was pressed against the door and your eyes were on him.

“Y/N, you were never an afterthought” He breathed close to you.

“Michael, what are yo-“

“Stay, please” But before you could say anything else, you felt his lips on yours.

The kiss was everything you dreamed it would be. Fast, rough and passionate. His hands traveled down your spine as he deepened the kiss, getting more needy by the second. Your hands flew to his neck, bringing him even closer, wanting to feel every part of him. You wanted to let yourself go, to fill these long needed desire. But you couldn’t forget about the girl waiting in the living room.

With all the strength you could manage, you pushed Michael away from you as the tears came flooding down again.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You spat at him in anger “You can’t do that to me. You can’t just kiss me and expect to fix everything. Who do you think I am?” You could tell he was trying to say something, but you were not in the mood to listen “I won’t let you do this to me. I won’t let you do this to her. I’m leaving, Michael. Get your shit together”

And with that, you ran through the door and didn’t look back.

A few hours later, you were settled in with Luke in his apartment. When you arrived, you asked him to please not say anything, that you weren’t ready to talk just yet. He just nodded and let you in.

You cried on his shoulders for what it felt like an eternity. Your head was pounding and your voice was hoarse. You’ve never felt so heartbroken before.

“C-can I stay here for a while? Until I find my own place?” You asked him.

“Of course, darling” Luke said, kissing your head “Take all the time you need”

You stayed like that for a while. He comforting you through your silent tears until you fell asleep.

A week passes by and you are not feeling any better. You haven’t been sleeping well and you’re barely eating despite Luke’s pleads. Ashton and Calum showed up one day to check up on you, but you still refused to talk about it. Maybe you were embarrassed, maybe the memory of that kiss was too recent, too painful to talk about. Maybe you just didn’t know how.

One night you fell asleep on the living room, the TV working as the background noise that drowned your thoughts. You were peacefully dreaming for the first time in days when the sound of muffled voices woke you up. You were still laying in the sofa, but Luke was nowhere in sight. That’s until you heard him talk.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea”

“Please, I need to talk to her” the other man pleaded.

Michael was standing at the door. He looked like a complete wreck. His hair was undone and a bit greasy from ruffling it with his fingers way too much, his eyes were bloodshot and glossy, still fighting to contain the tears in front of his friend.

“Look, man. I love you, but she doesn’t need this right now and-“

“Let him in, Luke”

The two tall men turned towards you. You were standing behind the sofa, your eyes never leaving Michael’s. Luke simply nodded and headed to his room, giving you the privacy you needed.

“I’ll be there if you need me” He said to you.

You muttered a small ‘Thank you’ to him before fixing your gaze upon Michael. He was still frozen by the door, unsure on how to say what he has to say.

Letting out a breath, you decided to break the ice “Michael-“

“I broke up with her” He said in one breath.

“You what?!”

“The night you left,,, I-I broke up with her because I couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitantly took a step closer to you, afraid that he was overstepping again.

“All this time, for years, I’ve been avoiding my own feelings. Tucked them away at the farthest corner in my closet, hoping that they’ll fade soon. I couldn’t cope with them, I was too afraid to.

‘“I told myself that I was being foolish, immature and downright stupid for thinking that the girl I love would love me back. How could she? She was beautiful, shared my sense of humor, my interests and she was extremely cool. I told myself that a girl like that could never want me. But, strangely, she did, as a friend. And I was content with that, at least I would have her be part of my life.

‘“So I hid my feelings until I couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel them. And every day I would remind myself that she was my friend and I was beyond lucky for that. I kept letting myself down on a daily basis, trying to keep the thoughts away, hoping that one day I could believe them. But I never thought of the consequences my actions had towards the girl.

‘“Y/N, when you left I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like a vital part of me was missing and you took it away with you. And I deserved it, I truly did. Y/N, I was an asshole”

“Michael,”

“No, I was. Hearing you say those things about yourself, like you were broken and needed to be fixed, it broke my heart, darling” His voice broke at the end, fighting helplessly to contain the tears that were burning behind his eyes “I- I never meant for you to think that I didn’t love you for who you were. That you needed to change in order to get me to like you. You shouldn’t change for anyone, love, you are absolutely perfect the way you are. You always have been and always will be.

‘“Y/N, you were never just ‘one of the boys’, you are my best friend, my soulmate and the best thing that has ever happened to me by far. I’ve always known that, but I was just too much of a coward to let it show and I’m sorry.

‘“When you told me you loved me, god. Y/N, I’ve never felt so happy and confused at the same time! I couldn’t fanthom the thought of you loving me, it seemed surreal after so many years of telling myself that it was impossible, almost like a cruel joke. But you did, and I could tell by your eyes that it was true, and I hated myself for that. I hated the fact that I was hurting you instead of loving you like I wanted to. I hated the fact that you felt like you had to leave in order for you to fix what I broke. I hated that I ruined our first kiss by a stupid impulse because you didn’t deserve that. You deserve the world and I was so scared of the fact that I might’ve lost the chance to be able to give it to you.

‘“ I broke up with her the night you left. It wasn’t fair to you, to her or to me to keep denying my feelings any longer. And I know that I don’t deserve it, but I’m standing here to ask you for forgiveness. I’m sorry that I made you feel less than you are. I’m sorry that I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I wasn’t brave enough to tell you this the moment you walked out the door that night. I will keep apologizing for the rest of my life if necessary, Y/N. But I just- I just don’t want to lose you”

You were standing in front of him. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you took in everything he said to you.

He loved you.

He loves you.

And you love him.

Michael was staring at his feet, too afraid to look up and see the disappointment in your face. To scared to lose you and everything you meant to him. Maybe coming here was a mistake, maybe you don’t want to know anything about him anymore. And he deserved that.

“Well,” You finally say, swallowing the lump in your throat “You still owe me that movie night”

His eyes light up as he saw you smiling at him. He returned it by grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer to him. Leaning so your lips could met again.

Smiling into the kiss, you swore that you will never let go of the other again.

[mythiccheroacademia]

Forgive Me

Summary: It only seemed more prevalent, now more than ever, that people like him didn’t deserve people like you.

Word Count: 4.8k+ Words

Pairing: Natsuo x Reader (21+)

Warnings: blood, death, gang organization involvement, gun use, sexual content, explicit language, and angst

A/N: First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAIN MAN NATSUO TODOROKI!! And I also want to say thank y’all so much for 2k followers! You make my heart ache. To celebrate, I wrote this self-indulgent mafia au fanfic that nobody asked for. I honestly just wanted to write Todorokis involved in organized crime. 

All the Japanese in here is from Google Translate. It most likely butchered it, so I’m sorry about that. I tried. 

Some things to mention: *Yakuza: Basically, the Japanese mafia  *Oyabun: The leader of the organization *Onna-Oyabun: The spouse of the leader. It really translates to the “wife.” I tried to keep things gender neutral, however, I couldn’t find a gender neutral term for this. Please forgive me!

Thank you for ridin with me, y’all! Enjoy this one, hotties ❤️   

Forgive Me

All Natsuo had ever wanted for you was normalcy. Call it wishful thinking—his siblings called it naivety. However, there was nothing more the young successor wished for than for you to have the life you deserved. One filled with love, laughter, and smiles. Not tears, blood, and bullets.

He wanted you to be able to come from work or class with a head full of things for the two of you to gossip about over dinner and ice cream. He wanted to be able to cancel his day and take you to that one amusement park you always talked about. He wanted the petty arguments about whose turn it was to do the dishes and whose brownie recipe was better.

Natsuo wanted that for you. Not this.

Your shared room suddenly felt cold and rigid as he stood by the doorway. The sight of your body curled into the sheets, hoping the mattress would swallow you up, made his heart ache. There was no movement except for the slow rise of your breathing as you stared at the wall next to the bed.

Natsuo’s grey eyes focused on the bandage patched to your ear and was brought back to the events prior. An event that had been the reason why he couldn’t have spent the evening in your arms.

[Earlier]

Since having been introduced into the Todoroki lifestyle, life had been hectic. You had been ripped away from your normalcy and propelled into the yakuza* game. It was seeped in cruelty, darkness, and evil that would make you spend nights shivering.

Ever since you had been engaged to Natsuo, your exposure only grew worse. Your fiancé would spend nights apologizing, but you’d only quiet him with a kiss and a small joke.

It wasn’t his fault. His older brother, Touya, was “deceased”. It was against tradition for Fuyumi to have it, and Shouto was too young. He would have to be the next Oyabun* and, despite his unwillingness, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

But that wasn’t something to dwell on. Especially today. Today, you had plans to go shopping with Fuyumi and Shouto and end the night with some well-deserved quality time with your husband-to-be. You had rarely seen anyone due to yakuza activity, so this was something you were looking forward to.

You smoothed down your outfit, adjusting your watch in the mirror. You gave yourself a nod, liking what you saw.

Natsuo came from around the corner, eyeing you with a glint you knew all too well. He apparently liked what he saw too.

“Hi,” he said, smiling into your kiss.

“Hey,” you grinned. You flattened the collar of his shirt where his tattoo peeked from his neck. “You look good.”

He was quick to respond. “You look better.”

“You flatter me,” you chuckled. “Did you pick where we’re eating for dinner later?”  

“I made reservations for the seafood restaurant you like so much. The one with the lights by the ocean.”

“Oooo with the parmesan crusted flounder and the stuffed oysters?”

He hummed a yes and laughed as you did a little dance expressing your excitement. You couldn’t wait to stuff your face. While being classy of course.

“What time?”

“6:30. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that should give ‘Yumi, ShoSho, and I enough time to shop around.” You turned to the mirror to put some last-minute touches to your hair. “We still have to find an outfit for your mother’s event Friday. You know your brother’s a lowkey diva about that stuff so it’s gonna take hours.”

A sudden slap on your ass made you yelp and just as you were about to cuss him out, Natsuo captured your lips in a kiss that made your knees buckle. He slowly explored your mouth, committing every taste to memory. Your hands massaged the nape of his neck and it had him growling in your ear.

“Why don’t you skip the shopping today and we can start on dinner now?” he suggested, loving the moan he got from you as he sucked on your neck.

As much as you adored the offer, you weren’t going to pass up the chance to get out of the house. You’d been cooped up in there for too long. Not even his dick could get you out of this.

You pushed him off of you, laughing as he bit the air between you, trying to put his lips back on you.

“Nat—Natsuo. Stop it. I promised them I’d go shopping today, so no. Besides, I’m already running late. I was supposed to meet them at 1 and it’s 1:30.”

“But you just look so good, baby.” He managed to pull you flush against his chest, mischief in his eyes. You gave him a look when his hands went to go grab a handful of your ass. “I’m sure they won’t mind if you're just an hour more late,” he said, going back to lay claim to your lips.

If last night’s sex was a testament to anything, you’d be here for much longer than an hour. If you didn’t get your ass to the car, you’d be stuck at home and his siblings would have your head.

“Boy, if you don’t get off me, I’ll tell Fuyumi you’re keeping me hostage again. She’ll sick Shouto on you,” you threatened.

At the thought of his sister and brother’s nagging, he rolled his eyes and backed off. “Ugh, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, whatever.” You hummed in triumph and turned to walk away. Natsuo gave another hard slap to your backside again and you sent him back a glare that made him smirk.

“Natsu,” you warned.

“You better get in the car quick before I really decide to keep you here.”

“Keep it in your pants, horndog,” you bit.

“Keep that ass away and we won’t have problems,” he playfully retorted.

You smacked your teeth but hid the growing smile on your lips. That man would be the death of you.

…

Despite your wishes, you ended up being an hour late. Natsuo tried to play innocent underneath his siblings’ threats but stopped the act once they pointed out the growing hickey on your neck.

He was waved off, much to his chagrin, when he told the three of you to be wary of your surroundings and reminded you of the security guards that would be following close by. He finally left for his meeting with few choice words and a kiss promising his return.

Fuyumi grabbed your arm and gave you a smile that was contagious. “Now that Natsu stopped hogging you, we can finally hang out!” she cheered. “The outlet just opened up a few new stores we’ve been eyeing for a while now!”

Shouto nodded in agreement. “I’ve been waiting all week to use my father’s credit card.”

“Didn’t you buy a fur coat yesterday—”

“That’s besides the point.”

Once Shouto took your other arm, the three of you spent your time going from store to store. At first, the objective was to find outfits for the party Friday, however you three had become easily distracted with the sight of a smoothie stand.

A couple hours had gone by, and not much was done. Although you might have wasted time (and money) shopping at miscellaneous stores, neither one of you cared.

It had been so long since you laughed so freely. With Endeavor across the ocean, things were steadily heating up. Enemies took his leave as an open shot and the Todoroki siblings were obliged to reinforce why their family reigned supreme. Due to that, it seemed no one could go a day without stressing over something.

Between that and Natsuo’s near-obsessive mission to keep you safe and away from the details of the yakuza, you were forced to stay in the house twiddling your thumbs with constant security around you.

Feeling so useless drove you crazy. No matter how many times you tried to get your fiancé to let you help, he would always give you a firm no. Fuyumi and Shouto tried their best to keep you out of it as well. Even Dabi warned you about wanting something so dangerous.  

It was frustrating, but you tried to understand. Regardless, having the chance to hang out with your friends like old times was a saving grace and you’d enjoy it to its fullest.

Eventually, you three made it to the boutiques and clothing departments. Shouto had already gotten a suit tailored so it was left with you and Fuyumi.

Your soon-to-be sister-in-law found an extravagant gown that stole your breath. The crimson dress hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating the softness of her feminine figure and the coolness of her kind eyes. It was beautifully bold statement speaking to the fire within Fuyumi many seemed to miss. But no one would overlook that spirit with a dress like that. Her measurements were taken, and the dress was quickly swiped off the rack and sent to the tailor.

Your clothing didn’t come easy. Fuyumi was indecisive and Shouto was a harsh critic.

“Hmm, that one’s too much.”

“Nope, not enough.”

“Too loose.”

“Too tight.”

“No.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m pretty sure someone from the Nanu family wore that in 2016. Next.”

It had taken nearly an entire hour before the three of you found your outfit. Something that had caught your eye was soon being shimmied over your body. When you stepped out of the dressing room, you were relieved when Fuyumi nearly cried and Shouto’s bi-colored eyes twinkled with satisfaction. The material was comfortable on your body and the pigment made your skin color brilliantly glow. It moved and swayed like it was meant for you. It just felt right.

“That’s the one,” Shouto smiled.

“You think so?” you asked, checking over the detailing.

“You’re going to steal the show, as always, Y/N,” Fuyumi gushed. “The most beautiful Onna-Oyabun* the yakuza have seen this generation.”

At the mention of the word, you casted your eyes downward. “Right. I’m going to be the new Onna-Oyabun,” you sighed.

The two Todorokis caught the heaviness of your tone and looked at one another in sadness. They were privy to the burdens of this family and the titles that came along with it. Your reaction wasn’t abnormal, but the despondent gleam in your eyes was still hard to sit with.

“Y/N—”

The sound of Shouto’s phone cut off his words. As he listened to the quiet words from the other line, his eyes began to harden. The store clerk kept you busy, but Fuyumi noticed his sudden rigidness.

Her brother’s eyes flicked towards the door and she caught the sight of more their bodyguards surrounding the boutique, hands on their weapons.

There were a few more words said before Shouto spoke.

“Anata wa mōru o torikakonde imasu. Natsuo wa 5-bu de soto de aimasu.” (Keep the mall surrounded. Natsuo will meet us outside in five minutes.)

Fuyumi met her brother’s eyes once more and understood the situation.

“So, the seamstress said she’ll tighten around the waist and add more fabric to the end. It’ll be ready by tomorrow evening,” you said to them.

Shouto excused himself while Fuyumi walked towards you, a practiced smile on her lips.

“Perfect. Now let’s get you changed and out for your date. Natsuo will be here any minute.”

…

The car ride to the restaurant was filled with your rambling about the day and Natsuo’s usual teasing. When he got into the car after speaking with his siblings, he seemed very tense. So you were happy you were able to get him to relax. Work must’ve put him on edge, and you were determined to let the rest of your night come stress free.

When you got there, he helped you out of the car and you made your way to the door. You were surprised to see who was standing by the entrance.

“Dabi?”

“Hey there, doll,” he said behind an easy smirk. He kissed the back of your hand. “Still see you’re with this punk. Tragic.”

You tried to hide your giggle as Natsuo punched his brother’s shoulder.

“Back off, brick-face. Lookin’ like a burnt raisin.”

“You wound me,” Dabi faux gasped.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

Although Dabi kept his eyes on you, he felt his brother’s stare on his face.

“Just doing some patrol. Heard you were coming around and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say hi to my new favorite Todoroki,” he responded coolly.

You quirked your brow at that. “Did something happen?”

Dabi opened the door. “Nah, nothing you need to worry about. You just enjoy your dinner for me, yeah?”

Before you could say anything more, you felt the man behind you place his hand on your lower back and guide you into the restaurant. You didn’t miss the order he hissed to his brother before closing the door behind him.

You had to learn Japanese one of these days, damn it.

As you stood in line to be seated, you eyed your fiancé.

“I know something’s going on,” you spoke.

Natsuo didn’t even flinch. “What do you mean?”

“Why’s Dabi here?”

“You heard what he said. For patrol.”

“Patrol for what? He doesn’t just police the area for no reason.”

“It was just on some small case we’ve been working on. No biggie,” he shrugged.

You frowned at his play of innocence. You were getting kind of tired of this. “You know how much I hate being kept in the dark…”

“It’s nothing you have to concern yourself with, babe. I’ve got it handled.”

“Natsuo—”

“Y/N, please.”

You watched his shoulders sag a bit from the heavy sigh that left his mouth. If you hadn’t been watching, you would’ve missed the fatigue that flashed across his face. To see someone usually so upbeat look so tired made your chest ache.

You knew you were being pushy, but all the secrets were piling up and your curiosity was starting to become insatiable.

“I…I just want to help,” you softly admitted. “I don’t mean to be annoying.”

“You’re not being annoying,” he answered in a heartbeat. Natsuo pulled you close and kissed your temple, feeling comforted by your smell. “I know all these secrets drive you crazy, but I’m trying to protect you.”

You placed a hand on his cheek to which he placed a kiss to your palm. “And I want to lessen your burden. We’re in this together, baby. You don’t have to handle all of this alone anymore.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. He stared into your eyes for a moment before gently smiling down at your hopeful gaze. “How ‘bout this? We forget about all this yakuza stuff whiles we’re here, and as soon as we get home, I’ll fill you in on my meeting today. Sound fair?”

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a step in the right direction. Besides, you could see how eager he was to forget about the topic. The focus of this night was about having fun, so you would drop it for now.

You pecked his lips and nodded in agreement. “Deal.”

“Bet.”

The hostess met you two just as you pulled away from one another. She led you to your table where you had a clear view of the beach behind the crystal glass. Your waitress, an older woman with a smile that felt safe, got you settled in.

“My name is Jane and I’ll be serving you today. May I get your drinks?”

Natsuo looked to you. “Wine?”

You made a thoughtful face. “Yeah. Sure. Something on the sweeter side.”

“Bring us Moet Chandon Dom Perignon. 2008.”

“Yes, sir,” she bowed before going to retrieve the drinks.

You frowned in confusion, the bran unknown to you. That was before your eyes scanned over the wine listing. You choked on your spit.

That bottle could pay rent.

Rich people were crazy.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Something in my throat,” you coughed.

After the waitress brought your drinks and you placed your orders (you both ordered enough for eight but what’s new?), you and Natsuo spent your time talking and laughing.

It was like old times. He was the jokester, throwing out horrible pick-up lines with a terrible pun to match. You’d tease him, snickering when he’d whine about how sensitive he was.

You missed this. A lot.

Your previous grievances left your mind. Like he said, for now, you’d forget about the yakuza. The carefree smile on your fiancé’s face, the one that reminded of you of just how young he really was, was beautiful. He was only 23 and dealing with so much. You wanted this expression of freedom to remain for as long as possible.

“The ‘Saw’ series wasn’t even that scary. It was just really gross,” you said.

“Fair. But the one with the teeth was kinda scary. Saw 3 I think? I couldn’t sleep for like, five days,” Natsuo shivered.

“Okay, yeah. That one was…ew,” you agreed. “But remember ‘The Human Centipede’? Now that was some creepy shit. I couldn’t eat cereal for a month.”

Natsuo visibly paled, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “Nah for real, bro. I’ll never watch that shit again. I feel like it was some big, grotesque, sexual innuendo.”

You gave him a flat look.

“What the fuck, Natsu.”

“No, listen! Remember the part where they took the hammer and—"

“Your food, Mr. Todoroki and Mr/s. L/N,” Jane interrupted. A questioning look flashed across her face but you two just stifled your laughs.

The other waiters laughed as they stood behind her with the food in their hands.

You were eyeing the hell out of those oysters.

“Here we have the lobster bisque, the shrimp tacos, the stuffed oysters—”

“I’ll take that one, please!” you excitedly clapped.

“Excellent choice.”

“And you say I’m a child,” Natsuo snorted.

You threw a glare his way. “Little boy, if you don’t—”

And just as your day had been filled with laughter, the sound of one bullet tore through that illusion.

It was as if the world had stilled for a moment. Then, there was screaming and the onslaught of gunpower. There were so many men in dignified suits running in and out of the restaurant. You hadn’t even blinked before two waiters dropped to the ground, piled beneath the food they were holding.

Two shots rang near your table, and you felt a string of fresh blood paint the sides of your face and a burning sensation on your left ear. Two hands held the table and the back of your chair, body a shield from the bullets.

You slowly looked up and saw Jane’s bright blue eyes wide with surprise. There was a moment of silence as her bottom lip wavered, wanting to say something.

However, her last breath slipped through her lips as you watched the life dull in her cerulean irises.

That bullet was meant for you. That bullet was meant to kill you and instead…instead…

When she fell onto you, dead, that’s when you screamed.

At some point, Natsuo had gotten you into his arms. His body was ice cold as he used his quirk to protect you and carry you out. He was shouting orders and curses while trying to coax you out of your numbness. However, you couldn’t hear anything.

The stench of blood was strong. You saw how the bodies of innocent men, women, and children laid piled on the floor. They bled out; their lives taken from them before they even had the chance to think about it.

You closed your eyes when you saw blue and red flames lick the ground. You had seen enough.

Somehow, you had gotten outside and away from the warzone. Natsuo carried you into the car.

“Doraibu!” he thundered. (Drive!)

The driver took off with speed that made our backs hit the seats. Once he hit the main streets, miles away from the scene, Natsuo took his hand off the gun and quelled his quirk.

His phone lit up and it wasn’t long before he blew up at whoever was on the other end. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him use a tone so mean and angry. He roared into the phone, his words foreign to your ears. However, you couldn’t concentrate on that.

The shock of what just occurred struck your body numb. The ringing in your ears hadn’t stopped since the first bullet. You could still smell the blood and the bodies. Jane’s lifeless eyes would haunt you forever.

The same bullet that tore into her heart was meant for you. Whoever shot that, was aiming to kill. Kill you. But instead, Jane had taken that place. For what reason, you didn’t know. But she did.  

You didn’t know which one was worse.

Bile rose in the back of your throat and you let out a shaky breath.

You could do nothing else but hold your head.

Natsuo had gotten off the phone and looked over at you in silence. His grey eyes stormed with pain from the way your shoulders hunched over in grief.

He reached for you. “Y/N, sweetheart—”

You flinched away as his fingertips ghosted your skin.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you seethed.

He quickly withdrew his hands.

“Are…are you okay?” he slowly spoke.

The glare you gave him made him avert his eyes in anguish.

“Am I okay? You’re asking me if I’m okay!?”

“I just want to make sure you’re not hurt,” he thickly swallowed.

“Are you serious, Natsuo!? I just saw twenty people die in front of me and you’re asking if I’m okay!??”

Guilt drowned him, but you just couldn’t seem to care at the moment as rage took over your body.

“I asked you to tell me what was going on. I’ve been fucking begging you to keep me up to date so I can just be prepared for when things like this happen!”

“I know.”

“If I had just known someone was trying to take me out, I would’ve stayed the fuck home, but you wouldn’t tell me and now there’s people DEAD!!”

“I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Fuck your sorry!” you roared. “Fuck you, Natsuo! Sorry won’t bring those people back!”

Your voice was beginning to grow hoarse but screaming felt good. It was the only thing that felt real even as it took you to hysteria.

“I know those bullets were meant for me! They wanted to—to—oh my God!” Your breathig grew erratic as it all dawned on you. “I’m supposed to be dead! They wanted to kill me! I can’t! I can’t do this!”

Natsuo felt his heart break with every sob that ripped from your mouth. He wanted so badly to hold you and take you away from all of this. However, he knew better.

For the entire car ride and throughout the time it took for the nurses to patch you up, you hadn’t allowed him to touch you. You even ignored him until he was forced to leave you to rest.

When he told you he loved you, it hurt like hell to see you wordlessly disappear behind the bedroom door. That pain was what later fueled him back to the scene of the crime and into doing things to the captured enemies he would never utter to anyone that wasn’t there.

Fuyumi and Shouto couldn’t look him in his eyes for the rest of the day. It was Dabi, as heartless as he was, that told him it was enough.

He would give anything to give you what you deserved, a life without pain and death. But that’s not how it worked. Not in this life.

He knew that, yet, he had been selfish and took you for himself. Now, this was the result. Your life in unremitting danger because of who he was.

The agonized screams of dry ice burning away flesh constantly played in his head. It only seemed more prevalent, now more than ever, that people like him didn’t deserve people like you.  

[Present]

Natsuo’s heavy stare caused you to shift. As he changed into pajamas, you looked at the clock. It was 2am.

You hadn’t realized it was so late.

You felt a heavy dip in the bed and watched your fiancé carefully settle into the sheets. His face was clean of blood and dirt, so he must've showered before coming back home.

A pregnant pause filtered between you two. As you continued to stare at one another, you could see his façade slip with each passing second. The blank front he was so skilled at putting up melted as his eyes continued to pass over the bandages. His eyes sunk and the skin around them was dark with wear. He looked exhausted.

The anger that had once bristled inside of you had given way to melancholy a long time ago. You felt so empty and lonely with the dark thoughts that circled in your head. Sleep wasn’t an option if you wanted to avoid the nightmares that would plague you.

The two of you scooted closer to one another. Natsuo was the first to speak. He spoke in a voice so small, you almost missed it.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you whispered.

Soon enough, you were in his arms, chin on his shoulder as he peppered the junction between your neck and collarbone with kisses. You relished in his hands exploring your body, missing how he just seemed to swallow you up.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed.

“I love you too, Natsuo.”

Much of the night was spent reminding yourselves of the other’s touch. Natsuo drew your lips captive, his tongue overtaking you with dizzying pleasure. You couldn’t keep track of where his mouth was. Whether it was on your lips, on your stomach, or in between your legs, you savored how good it felt.

Soon, his low growls and moans were hot against your ears. Your nails ran down Natsuo’s back as his hips swam into you, taking his time to rememorize how you felt around him. The bed creaked along with your moans. You threw your head back and gripped whatever you could hold of him during your lovemaking.

It seemed you’d reach your high over and over again. You could never get enough of each other. There was something intoxicating about how his tongue would roll over yours as he pounded into you, staking claim over your body as he gave himself to you until he couldn’t.

When your bodies couldn’t go any longer, you just lied underneath the sheets. Natsuo lied on top of you, head on your chest and listened to your heartbeat. You pushed back his sweaty bangs, staring down at him.  

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until his thumbs went to swipe past your cheeks.

“Damn it,” you hiccupped.

Natsuo let his vulnerability slip. “I know they’re just words, but I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said. His voice cracked and it was your turn to catch the tears that fell from his eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was just…”

“Just what?”

A fresh wave of images from today filled the forefront of your mind. Those pictures did something to you. A switch was flicked.  

Your voice caught in your throat and your eyes pinched as more tears filled them. However, these were not tears of fright, rather tears of animosity. The anger you thought had left you had turned into something worse. Something much darker.  

Natsuo saw that look many times before in his own reflection. Vengeance. Pure, unadulterated, vengeance. And as much as he hated it, it was the gas that incited his own flame.  

“Natsuo,” you spoke like you were about to tell a secret. You slowly swallowed the ball in your throat.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what it is you want.”

The words that left your mouth felt different, but you would never regret them.

“Whoever it was, whoever was behind this, I want them gone,” you instructed, voice stone cold. “For every child lost, I want ten of their heads. For all our men they took, I want their bodies burned. For the life they took from Jane, I want their blood on the street. Today, they took their stance when they tried to kill me.”

You held his face and fell into his gaze with hard eyes. In those grey irises, you saw a man that would stand against an army for you. It gave you the courage to say your order.

“And for that, I want the entire yakuza dead.”  

The glint in his eye matched your own and you knew there was no turning back. Natsuo nodded without a second thought. There was nothing to think about. He’d give you the entire world or burn it down at the flick of your hand.

“Yes, my Onna-Oyabun. Your wish is my command.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss.

“This is war.”

[plant-flwrs]

Hi! I absolutely adore your writing ❤️😍 and I think you deserve the world!

Can i pretty please request a fluff luna x fem! Reader fic where they are dating and the reader is more of a tomboy-ish girl and never got to explore her more feminine side and luna helps her discover this side of her and they are all cute and fluffy with each other? ❤️❤️ Thank you for reading ❤️✨

exploration // luna lovegood

masterlist!

a/n: you’re so sweet anon! i really hope i did this request justice because i think it’s so sweet. and a disclaimer: obviously femininity means something different to everyone, so this may not be everyone’s cup of tea. i don’t even have a firm grasp on femininity, so i did my best lol. hope you enjoy! thank you anon!!

summary: Luna helps you find your feminine side

(1.6k)

---------

The Quidditch pitch was crawling with people. You could barely spread your arms out to your sides without hitting someone, and you shoved your way through the crowd, politeness long abandoned. 

Lessons had been called off just before lunch after explosions in each of the hallways. You could see a crowd of people around the Weasley twins, and their tall heads poked above the crowd. Their faces were bright with mischief. 

You were glad for a day off of lessons.

Everyone had decided to crowd the pitch in some sort of celebration, some people sitting in the stands doing homework while others congregated on the field to talk to their friends. You caught sight of who you were looking for.

Luna, Neville, and Ginny were underneath the goalposts, sitting in a triangle formation. Ginny was laughing loudly as Neville smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Luna!” you called out, jogging through the last bit of crowd and finally reaching your girlfriend. She smiled at you and waved, motioning for you to join her.

“Hey guys,” you huffed when you reached them, falling onto the ground next to Luna. 

You glanced at her, then glanced at her open palm in her lap. You slid your fingers against her palm, watching as she interlocked your hands. 

“Can you believe that explosion?” Neville said quickly, as if he was afraid someone might overhear him.

“It was quite a show,” you said, looking at Ginny with a smirk. 

She smiled widely and gave you an innocent look, to which you chuckled. 

“Do you guys have any plans for the day?” Luna’s soft voice spoke up from beside you.

“Neville and I were gonna work on Transfiguration a bit,” Ginny said, knocking her shoulder into Neville’s, “You guys are welcome to join us.”

“Y/n doesn’t need any help in Transfiguration,” Luna answered for you, smiling proudly, “she usually does my essays for me.”

Neville opened his mouth in shock and Ginny’s face twisted into disbelief.

“What? I’ve been paying a sixth year to do mine!” Ginny said, looking to you as if you had killed her owl.

“I’m sure I’d charge more,” you smirked, feeling Luna’s hands squeeze around your own as she laughed.

Luna leaned into your shoulder and breathed deeply.

“Do you think we’ll have to go back to lessons today?” Neville asked anxiously.

“Doubt it,” Ginny said, standing suddenly and dusting off the dirt from her pants, “C’mon Neville.”

Neville was standing before he knew what he was standing for. He looked questioningly at Ginny.

“Transfiguration?” she said with a quirked eyebrow, already walking off and hoping Neville could find her in a crowd. 

Luna looked up at you from behind her lashes, “Want to go to my dorm? I hate the crowds.”

You nodded, helping her up and taking her hand again. You led her through the crowd as she clung onto you like her knight in shining armor. Soon, you were climbing up the stairs to the Ravenclaw Tower.

Luna easily answered the riddled required for entrance, pulling you inside with her. You made the familiar walk to her dorm, collapsing onto her bed as she was still shutting the door. She climbed in after you, tucking into your side as you pulled her close. You laid in silence for a while, and eventually you thought Luna had fallen asleep, until her soothing voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Do you ever want me to hold you?” she sounded gentle but you could tell she had a genuine curiosity.

“I dunno,” you answered stiffly, tightening your grip around her waist as she nestled in closer to you.

“I just mean-” she started, then tilted her head up to rest on your chest and look up at you, “-you always hold me. I wondered if sometimes you wanted to be held.”

You felt your throat tighten at her kind words, feeling yourself swallow hard. Her soft and cold hand cupped your cheek as she brought your eyes to hers.

“C’mere,” she whispered, shifting you so you lay on your side and she wrapped her arms around you from behind.

You felt her heartbeat against your back, her body pushed up against the pillows so her head rested against the top of yours and your back curled against her. Her hands held your close to your chest, running her hands over your fingers.

“Better?” she whispered again, pressing her lips to your forehead.

You wordlessly nodded, feeling yourself press against her back. 

Luna was right, she hadn’t ever held you like this. Usually you held Luna. You opened doors for her and you gave her your sweaters and you took her on dates and she watched you in the stands at you played Quidditch. She hugged you when you were all sweaty and stood on the tips of her toes to push your wet hair off your face and kiss you. She scoffed at you when you filled your mouth with food at meals and she rolled her eyes jokingly when you got sucked into conversations about Quidditch with Ron and Harry. You had realized you were unknowingly playing the boyfriend. You had realized you didn’t really want to.

You wanted to be more vulnerable with Luna. You wanted to ask her for her sweaters and duck under doors when she opened them for you. You wanted her to hold you more often and you wanted to be surprised by the dates she took you on. You wanted to feel more feminine in your relationship. But it was more than that, too. You wanted the confidence to wear your school skirt more often that your pants. You wanted to be more gentle and graceful and girly.

“Luna?” you croaked out, hating how unsure you sounded when you heard it.

“Hm?” she hummed from above you, carding her fingers through your hair and pushing it off your face.

“Do you think I’m-” you didn’t know how to say it. You suddenly felt very insecure.

“What, sweetheart?” 

At the nickname, your heart swelled and you felt confident enough to ask it.

“Do you think I’m bad at being a girl?”

There was a deafening silence in the room and you could tell Luna was thinking of the right thing to say.

“Do you?” she whispered, and you wished she wouldn’t whisper because it made it all feel even more serious.

“Yes,” you heard her suck in a sharp breath and she moved from behind you.

She sat against the headboards and pulled your head into her lap.

“Why?”

You looked up at her, watching her grey eyes dance across your face with worry. You took a deep breath and blindly felt around for her hand. You held it and brought it to your chest, then tucked it under your chin and held it there, like a child cuddles a stuffed animal.

“I feel like I’m your boyfriend sometimes. Like I’m boyish.”

Luna didn’t say anything, and you felt yourself starting to unwind, so you continued.

“I feel like I do boy things and I never really learned how to be feminine. You are, like, the perfect girl. I don’t know,” you trailed off, eyes falling from Luna’s.

Her hand untucked itself from yours, cupping your cheek instead. She held it there for a second, then leaned down and pressed her forehead to yours. When she pulled back, you sat up, turning in her lap to face her.

“I’m sorry-” you began, but she was getting up and holding up a hand.

“No, stay right here.”

Luna turned her back to you and ducked into the bathroom connected to her dorm. You heard rustling and you leaned to try and see what she was doing, but could only see her back.

When she returned, she had a bright smile on her face and a handful of what looked like makeup. 

She tossed it all onto the bed, and you gazed down at it.

“Have you ever worn makeup before?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you thought about your first and only time wearing makeup. You had seen it on TV and snuck into your mum’s room, getting red lipstick on almost all of your face and everything you owned.

You shook your head.

Luna’s smile widened and she sat back on the bed, crossing her legs as she sat in front of you.

“Can I do your makeup?” Luna sounded so sincere and hopeful that all you could do was nod.

Soon, her hands were on your face, moving swiftly and expertly as she talked. You both talked, and you told her why you had felt this way and she tried her best to reassure you as she told you all the reasons she loved you.

“You only have to be feminine if you want to,” she said, holding your jaw as she put something on your cheeks.

“I know,” you mumbled, trying to stay still.

“I love you for who you are, but you have to love you for who you are, too.”

You nodded wordlessly, trying your best to heed Luna’s advice. You knew it didn’t matter if you were good at being a girl, but it’d be nice to see what all the fuss was about.

Luna finally leaned back, looking at you with a dazed expression.

“All done,” she breathed out, sliding off the bed and gathering her things. She pulled you into the bathroom with her, telling you to close your eyes until she set everything down and stood behind you. 

You opened your eyes and her arms slid around your waist, holding her hands at your hips. You gasped a little when you saw your reflection, and then when you saw Luna’s hopeful look behind your shoulder in the mirror.

You turned so you faced her, bringing your hands to her hair. 

“You’re wonderful,” you whispered, wanting the moment to sound as sincere as you could manage, hoping the gratitude and love was in your voice. At the look on Luna’s face, you guessed she had heard it. 

[caxsthetic]

In Circle

Type: Short Clip (Blurt Drabble)

Cast: Suna Rintarou

Storyline: Not everything will fall into places. At least, not by its own.

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life

Bzzt bzzt~ Bzzt bzzt~

You let out a groan the second your phone vibrates. Hands mindlessly searching for the said item as you don’t even budge from your bed. Your alarm is not even ringing, so who will it be that calls you when the sun still hiding from the horizon?

You squint your eyes when the light from the screen attacks your vision, making you hiss like a vampire. Right now you really want to curse anyone who wakes you up. But when your eyes finally adjust with your phone, you can’t stop a smile to grace on your lips.

Rintarou

His name works wonder in your life, as if by just hearing or seeing the name that you have known since high school — is enough to boost your entire day. Without wasting another second, you slide your phone and pick up the call.

"Don't you know that this is a fucking 4 am?" You coat the excitement with an exasperated groan, rolling into the cold sheet of your bed as your eyes stare at the ceiling. "What do you want?"

Ever since high school, you always give him the snark side of you. Every word that rolling down from your lips is something that supposed to make him go away, or maybe just some distances. But even after years had passed, even when the two of you are now having a steady job and can take care of yourself — he never leaves, not even taking a step backwards.

"It's cold you know?" His voice is a little raspy, a sign that makes you wonder if he just wakes up like you. "To have no one by your side." But the statement makes you raise one of your eyebrows, wanting to snort because you are sure your best friend will never say something as melancholic as this. At least not when he is sober.

"Rintarou, you are drunk aren't you?" Now you are worried though as you sit upon your bed, back leaning towards the headboard. "Where are you right now? Can you send me the address?"

You wait for him to say anything, to maybe give some hint for his whereabouts. But nothing comes out from his lips for seconds, and right now you can’t help but wear your jacket to cover the thin pyjama that you wear, ready to search him. "Rin, please tell me you are at least with—"

"But it's warm now." He chuckles all of a sudden, making you stop whatever you are doing right now as you focus on his voice. You try to hear anything from the other line that can give you a hint of where he is right now. Though, there’s nothing but his fading breath. "It felt so warm, I love it here."

You swallow a huge lump. Is he perhaps inside a hotel or something? Maybe he’s with someone — a gorgeous model which he always caught being together with for the past few days. Is that why there's nothing but silence? But then again why? Why did he call you when he already in the accompany of someone?

"She is pretty." You snort, very unladylike as you try to coat the pain that starts to seep into your heart. "Such a beautiful creature." Like yourself, Rin? You really want to blurt that out, but as if it can change something. "She made me feel like home."

This is like a routine to you, to hear him ramble about all of his lovers or hookup as he wants to find the one. You are the kind best friend who will always be there through thick and thin, you are the best friend which he can trust. The very same best friend, that support him on every step of the way.

Even if someday he stood on the aisle to kiss someone, you still would be there — always.

"Yeah?" You lean your body on the wall, trying to steady your breath. "So I guess you are safe right now, right? You are with her, she will always keep you safe after all, isn't she?" You promise yourself that no matter how the stories unfold between you and the professional middle blocker, you will stay anyway.

But why your soul screams at you, begging for you to hang up the call and say goodbye?

"Maybe, I hope so. But I don't know yet." You grit your teeth, listening to his low, sleepy voice. "She never says anything, but I am pretty confident she loves me too." How lucky. You let your hand falls to the side for a moment, preventing him from hearing you — sobbing, as your heart is being tested at this very moment. How lucky to be loved by you.

You know at a certain point he will belong to someone else, someone that can replace your existent as he will find comfort from them instead of you. He’s never yours in the first place, but for years he never settle down completely, he never utters the word love.

So now when he finally found them, the reality reminds you that there is no chance for you to make him yours. From the start, there’s always a line between you and him, and no matter how many flirty words being thrown, no matter how many cuddles and affection that you two shared, at the end you and him is just a best friend.

"So where are you right now?" You ask one more time, at least you want to know that he will be safe and sound, in the arms of someone that probably he will share his life with.

"I am home." His voice becoming more distance. "With her, I am home. I have always been." Peaceful, the love that he harbours for the mysterious woman is something that can make him; Suna Rintarou — the silent yet a sarcastic man — head over heels and so much in love.

You bite your lips softly, lids fluttering close as you try to erase the tears which pleading to escape from the corner of your eyes. You should be happy, to know that he will no longer become your parasite, no longer clinging into you as if his life depended on it.

Yet every second pass, you wish that you are back in high school days and stuck at the moment. The time when he would come to you every day, asking silently for your attention. And you, you would always comply, running your fingers on his strands that smell so sweet like strawberry.

But time changes and you have to wake up.

"I hope she can make you happy, Rin." It’s a sincere declaration, coming from you. "I hope she can give you the warm, never once lessening as time goes by." Because no matter how much you want to rip your heart apart, you only wanted the best for him.

Somehow you can see him on the other side of the line, having a lovely smile that shaped on his face, just like how it always been. Just like how he always looks — beautiful. He chuckles softly around ten seconds after, a little bit delayed processing your words, maybe due to the alcohol that he consumed.

“I am sure she will.”

You breathe out, sounds a little bit wavered as you compose yourself. It is the last thing that you heard from him, the assurance that he will be alright from now on. That now, he will have someone that can be his home, giving him the warm that once was your job.

And just like that, you are left alone as you still standing in the dark of the room. Leaving you with just an empty feeling. Perhaps your heart fills with regret, with the wonder of what if. What if you dare enough to confess, or what if he’s bold enough to say something between the two of you.

Looking down, you just realize that you wear the familiar maroon track jacket. With black line adorned the side of the arms, the size that’s unfit with yours — it’s easy to recognize that this jacket belongs to him.

It is the only remnant of the warm that you can have. Nothing else but just a piece of clothes. You don’t want to cry, you are an adult and well matured. There is no reason for you to give in to the petty crush that you have for him. But even then you can't lie to yourself. Since you know your feelings are not just puppy feelings.

You love him, you love him that even at one point, you declined every date because you know how pouty he could be. And for him, you never once complained when he came to your house unexpected, scented with feminine expensive perfume that always made you feel so sick.

How come anyone else could touch him so intimately? How come a stranger could plant a kiss on his plump lips, tracing their fingers on the places that you never reached? While you who was always there for him — only got a taste of the softness of his dark brown strands.

Knock. Knock.

You really want to scream right now when you heard the soft knock. You had enough for today, so you ignore it. You don’t want to meet with anyone, you are not ready to show yourself to the world as you still have tears running down your cheeks.

Knock. Knock.

But whoever it is in front of your door is one persistent person. They knock, just twice, yet it continues for every few seconds.

You groan and furiously wipes the tears from your face with the jacket. So rough that it stings a little. You have enough, you don’t care anymore at this point if they end up pitying your state. You just want to be left alone, and if that means you have to face them for a second, then it will be the price that you are willing to pay.

Your feet stomp to the hardwood floor, hearts thummering as you breath out. It’s enough for your heart to be treated like this at one fine morning, it’s enough emotion for you to handle, you don't need more. Your hand unlocks the keys with such force, taking one last deep breath before you open up the door and show them your usual friendly smile.

Yet like as fast as the smile emerges on your face, it falters within seconds when your eyes catch the familiar green orbs. You swear you can feel your heart stops when you see him, maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks. The intense love that you feel for him makes you become delusional.

It feels so real though, as his face illuminates by the light that shines from your living room. The strands of his hair sway softly as the wind moves past him. A little puff of air slip from his lips due to the cold temperature.

His cheek is even producing a pinkish hue, notifying you that he is indeed, under the influence of alcohol.

But you don’t want to believe it. You can’t believe your own eyes as he takes some steps closer. Just like always, he never asks for permission. Just like always, he immediately goes inside your house, closing the door and face you. Instead of dropping his bags and search for some waters or snack though, he just has his eyes on you.

There is this smile that only appears when he wins something, the smile that only emerges on his face when he feels contented. He doesn’t say anything as he just let his gaze that fills with adoration fall on your face. It’s always like this, round and round without end, without a confession or any explanation about why he gives you such looks.

“I am home.”

Just three words, three words that he whispers under his breath. It can be platonic, it can be just his drunken state telling you that he is indeed home since he’s inside your house where he crashed a lot to for the past years.

Though somehow, those three words are enough to replace the sorrow on your face from before as your lips now turn into a smile. He chuckles, snorting a little. And you chuckle too, rolling your eyes as you shake your head in amusement.

Your eyes finally lock on each other, he gingerly raise his hand and cup one of your cheek. As if he’s asking you if it’s alright, if it’s alright to touch you first — since for the past years it’s always you who lay your hand on him.

And the second you give him a nod, a sign that you are alright with his sudden appearance, he have you fall into his embrace.

“With you, I am home.” He mutter softly under his breath, pulling you even closer. He’s now the one who initiate the affection. He want to show you that he already found the one, and he will no longer searching for the last destination. “I have always been.”

Because even though it needs years for the two of you to round around in circle, maybe this time, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Since now, everything start to fall into places.

Requested by @sredamancy I hope you like it����👈

[witchygirl99]

There is...a lot for me to go through with these wips LOL. But I gotta know about the Bones AU and Breathless with Shiori????

Honestly, I look at my WIP folder and cry sometimes lol. There’s just so much to write!! And they all are deserving of life but my brain makes things so big that I can’t get them out that fast. 

Anyways.

So Feel You In My Bones was actually once posted on my long ago website (RIP witchygirl99.com, you were true one). But I got like 3 chapters in and then stopped with the website because I am greatly lazy. BUT! The gang is all there:

Inuyasha is the forensic anthropologist (Bones)

Kagome is an FBI agent (Booth)

Miroku is the psychologist

Sango’s the pathologist

Koga does double duty as an entomologist/palynologist

Ayame does forensic reconstruction

Shippo’s the intern

And they solve crime! Here’s a snippet!

He ignored Kouga’s middle finger in favour for the broken but glued together bones a little lower on the table. “There are comminuted factures, with the main focus at the proximal third of the tibia and fibula. In addition to the diastatic fracture on the skull, I’m fairly confident that cause of death was most likely due to a vehicular accident. The car would be relatively small, a sedan at its largest.” When there was nothing but silence Inuyasha looked up to see Kouga staring at him quizzically. “Is there a problem?”

“I was just wondering how you get laid.”

“He doesn’t, that’s the problem!” Doctor Miroku Tsujitani burst into the room, his black khakis and fine dress shirt standing out amongst the rest who wore lab coats and hair nets. “Now, there could be several reasons for this. Based on the precedence–”

“Speak another word and I will stick this up your ass,” Inuyasha growled, walking over to his assisting table and picking up a large drill. He smirked as he pressed the trigger and heard the little wail of the rotating head. “Psycho-analyze that shit, shrink.”

“I don’t prefer the term ‘shrink,’” Miroku sighed, giving Kouga a look. “My job is just as important as yours, and I could even argue more so.”

“Then you’d be fighting a lost battle,” Inuyasha muttered rather loudly, removing his gloves and organizing his tools for later cleaning. “Your observations are nothing more than mental illusions and guesses that have been mildly educated through years of useless schooling and an even more useless degree.”

Miroku closed his eyes, leaning against the counter where Kouga was perched. “Man, I’m not even going to bother.”

“It’s not worth your time, even if he is right,” Kouga said, grinning when Miroku just sighed heavily once more. “So what now, mutt face?”

Inuyasha wished that the two men weren’t even near him. It was bad enough he had to deal with the damn wolf demon by his side, but now that human psychologist? It wasn’t his day, clearly. “Now, I’ll have the undergrads go through the database to see if we can find a match in the missing persons database. Really, you’ve been here how long and you still don’t understand the basics of this job?”

Kouga looked at Miroku ruefully. “I don’t care what your psycho-babble says, he’s a fucking asshole.”

Nodding, Miroku couldn’t help but agree.

Inuyasha was ready to beat their heads with John Doe’s femur, but he felt it would rather bother JD’s family. Also, Kaede wouldn’t be too pleased if he killed the SILD’s best entomologist/palynologist and its only shrink. “Are the two of you here to actually provide me with something intelligent, or is it enough satisfaction for you to just annoy me?”

“Not nearly enough, but about as good as it’ll get,” Miroku said, shaking his head. “Kaede also wanted us to speak later. I’ve arranged several appointment times that you’ll have to confirm when available.”

“What shit is that?” Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Right, as if I’m going to lie down on your uncomfortable, back-breaking couch and tell you my feelings.”

The psychologist sighed. It seemed to be the only thing he did around this institution, despite the good pay. “First of all, it wasn’t optional. Secondly, you do have feelings Inuyasha. I know that deep down they reside there, buried after years and years of abandonment and difficulty through the eyes of social stigmatism.”

“Seriously,” Inuyasha started with a glare, “go jump off a cliff. I promise to examine your body as carefully as I do the rest.”

“You should anyways, it’s your job.” The feminine voice was sharp, firm, just like it always was coming from Sango Houko. The woman was tall, curvy and intimidating as hell. Her dark brown eyes could force anyone to look away, and her sharp tongue was virtually unmatched by anyone. The only person who ranked close with her was Inuyasha, and that was only because his indifference allowed for many arguments to rest at an impasse.

“My dearest,” Miroku murmured, grinning. “How are you feeling today? I must say, coral is really your colour.”

“Bite me.” Sango rolled her eyes, looking up at Kouga. “Did you look at the particulates yet for the Robinson 50J-25?”

Kouga shrugged. “I may have. Have you studied the flesh yet?”

“Obviously or else I wouldn’t have sent you the final batch of particulates.” Sango turned to face Inuyasha, who was staring critically at his drill. “What are you doing?”

“Considering the blood splatter if I rammed this through your head,” Inuyasha muttered, not even sparing a glance up. “Or your jugular, I have yet to determine the path I find most effective.”

Sango narrowed her eyes, looking at him with all the confusion that the woman could muster. “How do you even get laid?”

And Caught is basically a story that takes place in the Breathless universe (therefore, you get to see Inuyasha and Kagome being madly in love and greatly horny post-story) but you also get to witness Shiori living her best lesbian life. Which, honestly, I’ve been dying to write for years.

THANK YOU @smmahamazing! Hopefully these can one day come out and be free of the WIP folder.

[papergirllife]

Let Me Show You

Johnny Suh oneshot (M)

Requested

warnings : body insecurities, dieting.

" You sure you don't want a wooper burger? "

" Yes, I'm sure. "

" Are you really, really, really sure you're just going to settle for a salad? "

" Yes. "

" You literally just said salad was like eating grass a month ago. "

" I changed my mind. "

Johnny looked at you skeptically, but decided to not push your buttons today.

" Okay, whatever you say baby. "

When the food came and you started picking at it, Johnny laughed.

" You could've at least settled for a wooper junior. "

" I'm not hungry. "

" Then why are you eyeing my fries like that?"

You looked at Johnny wide eyed, shocked at the fact that you were caught by your own boyfriend.

" No, I wasn't! I was just thinking of what to cook for dinner. "

" Right. You know you can take some right? I purposely ordered a large. "

" Why made you think I'll eat your fries? How are we going to finish it? "

" Chill, babe. If we can't finish it, I'll just bring it over to the dorms, I bet someone would eat it. "

You rolled your eyes at him, continue munching on the salad that you utterly despise.

" I told you there won't be any fries left. "

" All your fault. "

" It's your mouth and your stomach babe. I only tempted you. "

" And that's where you crossed the line, Mr Suh. "

" But you like it when I hop over the lines you drawn, Future Mrs Suh. "

" Shut up! No teasing me. Who says I'm marrying you, huh? "

" My mom. "

" You and your jokes. I'm going to shower. Are you fine with washing up the plates? "

" Yeah, go ahead, babe. "

' God, why did I eat those fries? ' You thought to yourself.

You took a look at your own reflection in the and cringed at your appearance. These past few days of quarantine has not been helping your weight at all.

It wasn't the fact that you gained weight, it was the fact that even doing so many exercises, learning dieting tips, reading weight loss methods on self care blogs and all the other crap you tried still hadn't taken an effect on your body.

It's hard having a hot boyfriend like Johnny, all your thoughts these days have been about the fact that your body doesn't match a perfect one like his. What would people say when they find out the Johnny Suh's girlfriend wasn't up to expectations?

Before stepping into the shower, you looked your naked self in the mirror.

' Why can't my waist be tinier? '

' Because you're a fat ass who can't resist food. '

God you hated that voice in your head, even though it's just you scolding yourself. It feels like there's always this monster in your head, telling you all your woes in another horrendous form.

Fuck it.

You stepped into the shower, wishing you could wash away all your worries like the dust in your hair.

After drying your hair, you decided to take a nap.

You lived by the motto that sleep is the solution to all problems you don't know or don't wish to deal with.

Your nap was short lived however. You could feel Johnny's body snuggled close to yours, his face nuzzling into your neck.

" Baby. Why don't we have a little fun? "

His fingers were toying with the hem of his shirt.

" Johnny, no. I'm not in the mood. "

" I can get you in the mood. We haven't been intimate for so long. I miss your beautiful body. "

' It's horrible. '

Fuck, you said that aloud.

Suddenly, Johnny sat up from the bed.

" Babe. I thought you haven't been eating as much because you ate earlier on without me as you always told me. But it's actually dieting? You've been dieting behind my back? "

Fuck.

" No. I just... didn't tell you about it. I never thought it as something important. "

" How is it not important? God I should've guessed, I've been so busy with the comeback. "

" It's fine. There isn't anything you have to be worrying about. "

" Baby. Why are you doing this to yourself? "

" I've been showing you nothing but support for all the things you want to do, but I seriously can't accept the fact that your dieting for no reason. "

" I'm dieting because I want to, that's a reason. "

" But you don't have to. Why are you making yourself go through unnecessary hardships?"

" Hardships bring rewards. "

" What rewards will you attain other than hunger? "

" I'll be skinnier. Then I'll look nicer in my clothes. "

" You look gorgeous in your clothes. Being skinnier doesn't mean you'll look nicer. Look at me, babe. "

Johnny always told you look at him whenever he's talking about loving you or something important, it's good way of showing he cared for you. But it's also your weakness in giving into him.

" Give me your hand. "

" Why? "

" Just do it. "

He held your hand against his in front of your face.

" See how big my hand is compared to yours? "

He then moved his hand to hold onto one of your upper thighs.

" See how snuggly your thigh fits into my hand? Imagine if I let you go on a diet, and your body gets skinnier, there will be empty space left in my hand. What do I do with the empty space? Except it making me feel empty from the fact that I don't like thighs that small and that you suffered for nothing thinking that it'll make me happier. Babe I don't want you to go on a diet, I love you just as you are."

" But...

" No buts. You'll be eating Johnny's delicious cooking for dinner tonight. A healthy meal for my beautiful girlfriend. Are you hungry now? I can get you something to eat? "

" No it's fine. I'm not hungry. "

" Are you still insecure? "

" No. "

You didn't dare to look into his eyes, if you did Johnny would know that you weren't telling him the truth about your insecurity.

Even though you did so, Johnny could tell. He could read you like an open book. He knows you're still in denial. So he decided to take matters into his own hands.

" If my words can't take away your doubts, I'll use my actions. Let me show you how beautiful you are to me. "

Johnny starts kissing you slowly, hesitating just in case you were seriously not in the mood for anything physical.

Things were rarely this slow with Johnny as he's always either busy or too tired to drag on for a long period of time, but he has plenty of time for you now.

He slid his tongue inside your mouth when you reciprocated his actions, his confidence building up from your responsive eagerness.

His hands hold onto your waist, keeping you flush against his body.

You sucked in your stomach, fearing that he would find your waistline being too wide.

But you accidentally did it too quickly as you panicked when he touched you, making Johnny notice the sudden change.

Johnny pulls away from your heated make out session and cradles your face into his hands gently.

" Baby, I love you. You don't need a small waist for me to love you. I'm more than satisfied with your current body. Don't change or feel like you need to change anything about it. "

" I'm sorry, my reflexes kicked in. "

" It's okay, you have nothing to be sorry for. Do you still want to go on? We can stop if you want. "

" I'm okay. Keep going. "

Johnny peppered kisses down your neck and behind your ear.

" You smell good babe. "

" I smell like old laundry. "

" My old laundry. I wore this shirt yesterday. You smell like me. "

" Why are you smiling like you won the lotto?"

" Because you're my lotto. I'm the luckiest man alive to have won your heart. "

Johnny took off his shirt to admire your body. He gave your breasts a gentle squeeze, admiring the way it bounced lightly as he lets them go.

" Beautiful. "

He scatters kisses from your cleavage to your nipples, leaving no spot untouched.

You played with his hair as he was busy giving love to your breasts, basking in the love and comfort from your lover.

After concluding that your breasts had enough love, he moved down to leave a trail of kisses on your stomach.

Before taking off your panties, he places a kiss each on of your hip bones.

" Your hip bones are already showing, and you think you're not skinny? "

" I wanted to work on my stomach. I want waists like the Victoria's Secret angels on TV, like your female colleagues and fellow idols. "

" Babe, many of those models on TV are underweight, remember? Remember the article you read on the models opening up about suffering from eating disorders? I don't want you to have eating disorder. And female artists in my company are around your size as well. "

" No. Look at Taeyeon noona, she's so slim and small. I want a figure like that."

" Baby, her body's different from yours. Your bones are stronger, so they're a bit bigger. And you're taller, of course you'll have a bigger build compared to her. Okay? You're perfect, stop comparing your body to other people's. "

" I just want to be beautiful for you. I want you to feel proud when you introduce me as your girlfriend. "

" I always felt proud of you baby. That will never change. "

He gave you a warm smile before moving down to continue pampering you in his love.

He gave your clit a kiss, sending shivers down your bones. His hands start wandering on your thighs, lightly pinching and holding your part of your thigh in his big hand.

" Have I told you how much I love your thighs? They're soft and feminine, but also has a degree of muscularity. That must be from all the dancing work out routine we had. "

Johnny moved down to your lower thighs, kissing and hands wandering his way up. Until he was met with the exquisite sight of your pussy.

" I'll never get bored of this view. "

He began eating you out like his last meal, you what thought was mind blowing about Johnny in bed was his love for pleasuring you, even though he was not on the receiving end.

You let your hands hold onto his soft hair, encouraging him to keep going.

Johnny sucked at your clit, two fingers slipping inside you as you were distracted.

You bit onto your lip, not wanting to sound annoying during sex or breaking the mood.

But Johnny wasn't happy with what you done. Johnny halted his sinful acts on you and looked up.

The sight had you dripping for more. The way he looked slightly breathless, with your juices all over his mouth and chin. But it was his eyes that was the ultimate deal breaker, although he was eating you out, his eyes still cast a heavy sense of dominance in them, starting into his eyes left goose bumps on your skin.

" Be my good girl and let me hear your pretty moans, baby. "

" Yes, Johnny. "

" Good girl. "

When he went back down on you, he decided to turn things up a notch by sliding his tongue inside your warm walls.

It was always euphoric to have Johnny's tongue inside you, the way the warm wet muscle slides and slithers its way into your warm cavern has your legs shaking for Johnny.

The knot in your belly starts to coil as Johnny starts to rub eight motions on your clit, pushing you off the edge.

" Fuck! Johnny, I'm gonna cum. "

As you registered that he didn't let out any objections, you let all hell loose.

Johnny lapped up your essence, like a wolf finally getting its feed.

Johnny strips off his clothes, watching you as you regained composure from your high with a loving and proud gaze.

" You look like you're glowing, baby. "

" With tears running down my face and cum all over my legs? "

" Only I can see you this wrecked, that's why I love it so much. "

" You're crazy. "

" Crazy for you, babe. "

Johnny climbed over you, his hands brushing your hair away from your sweaty face, laying a kiss on the tip of your nose.

" I love you. "

" I love you too, Johnny. "

Johnny held onto your hips gently, and pushed himself into you.

He peppered kisses all over your face as you adjusted to his size. You love the feeling of being so in love and dirty with the man you adore with your whole heart.

" You can move now. "

You were curious, whether Johnny was going to continue the fast pace he set just now or go for the romantic way of things.

Johnny started to move out slowly, and thrusted back into you deeply, making your toes curl and fingers clasped around his strong arms.

" Johnny... "

You love making love with Johnny, although it rarely occurs. Most times the both of you fuck your brains out, but today was different.

Today Johnny wants to remind you how he loves you, and how he'll show you in the most intimate way possible.

Johnny continued his deep and hard thrusts into you, hitting your sweet spot every single time. Johnny has a knack for finding it, as the two of you have been this intimate for so many times.

Johnny feels like his in heaven, your voice chanting his name over and over again in that angelic voice of yours.

The mantra of your voice fuels him to go faster, wanting to chase both of your orgasms.

You could feel Johnny getting close, as he swells inside you. The friction from Johnny's thrust pushing you towards your high as your walls convulsed around him.

" Cum for me, baby. I want us to cum together. "

" Johnny, fuck. So close. "

Johnny gave one your nipples a squeeze to send you off your edge as he spills into you, your warm cavern welcoming him.

" Johnny! "

" That's it baby, scream my name. "

Johnny continued to lightly thrust into you, milking you until you're dry. Johnny always had a thing for creampies.

When you started to get sensitive, he stopped. He slowly slid out of your pussy, some of the mixture of both his and your cum leaking out.

He uses a finger to push the liquid back in, as his other hand takes some tissue to clean up your previous cum stains on your thighs.

Johnny slid your panties back up, as he finished cleaning.

" Don't let my cum leak out from those pretty lips, that's all my love for you. "

" Just get in bed, I'm so tired from all the action. "

" Okay, baby. "

Johnny wraps his arms around you as he takes a wiff of you once again.

" Stop. I smell like sex. "

" We both do, and I love it. "

" Thank you, for making me feel better about myself. "

" You deserve to love yourself as I love you, Y/N. I know it'll take time, these things. But I'll be here in your heart, to remind you how beautiful you are everyday. I love you, baby. "

" I love you too, Johnny. My life wouldn't be the same without you. "

[strawberry-skies-xx]

‹ 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔲𝔢𝔰 ›

𝗐𝖼. 𝟣,𝟪𝟣𝟧 | 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌. 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽 / 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗌, 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗇-𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗈𝗇, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝗁𝖾/𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗃𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝗈𝗏 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽 

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗒𝗉𝗌𝖾.

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 | 𝖺𝗈𝟥

It starts with a ring.

A small ring, nothing special - a little thin gold band contrasted against Jon’s dark brown skin, with a small purple stone set in it, an amethyst. Martin doesn’t notice it until he’s, well, not dying or walking through fear dimensions, and once he does, he notices Jon doesn’t wear it all the time. He’d assume it was a sort of thing to wear with his clothing, to match it, but it doesn’t match all the time. It’s a random thing - sometimes Martin feels the warm metal bump against his hand for days at a time, sometimes Jon’s hands are bare for weeks before he wears it again. Martin doesn’t say anything, obviously - it’s not a huge deal, it’s nothing really, and if Jon wants to wear it, then he can wear it. It’s not Martin’s place to stop him in something like this.

And then it’s eyeliner.

Again, not a lot, nothing special, just a little bit lining the eyes. Martin thinks he sees the slightest bit of glitter one day, in a faint dusting of the lightest violet eyeshadow across Jon’s eyelids. He doesn’t say anything. Martin thinks he couldn’t care less.

Well… he does care. He thinks… it looks pretty, on Jon, the little line of narrow black along his eyes and the glitter flashing in the light occasionally. He almost wants to ask him to wear more, but ends up simply tallying up the days, admiring the ring and the eyeliner and eyeshadow on the few days Jon does wear it, sort of cherishing the days when Jon makes that decision. Or… whatever it is. Martin thinks he knows, because he’d been to several Pride parades before the world ended, but if that is the case, then it’s Jon’s place to come out to him. Martin definitely won’t push him into it.

It goes on like this for a few months, nearing half a year. Martin never says anything, but he does notice that when Jon does wear the eyeshadow and eyeliner, he goes a little bit heavier and more noticeable, and when he wears rings, he starts wearing necklaces too. One time, Martin finds Jon laying on the couch, head leaned back against the armrest, dressed in one of Martin’s oversized sweaters and jeans. His eyes are closed, the light of the lamp catching on the faintest glitter on his eyelids and reflecting off the gold of small rings on at least three of his long, thin fingers. There’s even an earring in one ear, a simple stud glittering gold, and his hair is fanned out against the couch. Martin can’t help but smile, adoring the sheer beauty of his boyfriend (who may not be his boyfriend, he considers) before leaving and letting Jon relax in whatever clothes and jewelry he wishes.

The third thing Martin sees is... well, he really didn’t mean to see the skirts. He’d been doing laundry, which he usually didn’t do - Jon didn’t like going out into town alone, so usually Jon did laundry and at-home chores while Martin went out for the shopping and such.

Except, this time, Martin’s doing laundry while Jon’s gone out for his own errands in town, and he’s holding a hanger covered in plastic, unzipped to reveal several long skirts hanging from it. There’s one that’s black and pleated, one that’s a light beige with a gold pattern shimmering across it, and a few in other colors that poke out from beneath. There’s only around five total, not a huge amount, but Martin feels like he’s stumbled onto something sacred. He’s been playing with the idea of Jon being something other than a man for months, but he didn’t want to figure it out by anyone other than Jon himself. If Jon doesn’t feel comfortable telling him himself, Martin shouldn’t know at all, as much as he wishes Jon would tell him, that he’d feel comfortable enough with Martin to do so.

He stares at the skirts for a second, taking a moment to process that his suspicions are more likely to be true than he thought, and then the door clicks.

Martin spins to see Jon walk in, staring down at a book in his hand apparently reading the summary. He looks up, mouth opening to say something, and freezes at the hanger still held in Martin’s hand, unzipped partway.

There’s a long, tense silence. Martin makes a snap decision. “Jon,” he says, and gives a warm smile. He hangs the skirts back up and walks over - the light from the window glitters on Jon’s eyeshadow. “I made biscuits, if you’d like them.” He starts to walk past Jon, ignoring the slight frown on his face, keeping his expression and body language nothing more than neutral and as warm as he’s ever been with Jon.

“They’re chocolate chip,” he continues. Jon follows him, quiet. Martin can almost imagine the studying look he’s getting behind his back, sharp brown eyes flicking over him. He keeps walking.

Finally he turns to Jon, with the exact studying look he was imagining, and offers a biscuit from the tray he’s stood beside. “They’re fresh from about twenty minutes ago. I did them while the laundry was in.”

Jon is quiet, still studying Martin. Martin gives a returning smile, sees Jon glance down at the biscuit, and then concede. His mouth tilts in a slight smile, he takes the biscuit, and meets Martin’s eyes with warmth now as he takes a bite. “Thank you.”

Martin smiles more. “Thought you’d like them.”

The peace lasts four hours.

Martin stands in the kitchen making tea. He’d thought that Jon had let it go, had seen that Martin wasn’t going to push him to talk about it and had decided not to talk about it. Maybe he’d even figured out that Martin knew full well what the skirts meant and that he’d accepted it, but Martin also knew how much trauma Jon had been through and that he wasn’t going to come to that conclusion easily.

Jon’s bare footsteps sound lightly against the floor, and then he’s standing beside Martin, leaning with his hip against the counter. “Martin,” he says.

Martin looks up. “What?” he asks, entirely innocently despite the weight of the situation rapidly rising.

Jon is silent, simply staring at him. He raises one eyebrow.

It’s a long moment before Martin sighs and turns to face him fully. “What, Jon? I saw the skirts, and I’ve seen the rest of it - the makeup, the jewelry - for months now. I’m not going to leave you just for that. I don’t know the full situation, and I’m not going to push you into telling me, but the skirts are a part of something bigger that is part of you. And I love you. That’s not going to change.”

Martin glances away, giving a small smile. “To be entirely honest, it- well, it looks pretty on you, Jon. The light catches on the eyeshadow really nicely sometimes, and the gold rings are nice too. I like it.”

“They,” Jon says suddenly. Martin’s eyes flick towards him; Jon looks a little like a deer caught in headlights, eyes widening a little at the word. He shifts against the counter, looking away, clearly having no idea how to handle this situation.

“What?” Martin asks.

“I-I’m a they. Sometimes,” Jon says quietly. “I-it sort of, depends. On how I feel that day.”

“Is today one of those days?”

Jon looks up quickly at Martin, hesitating a little.

Martin tries an experimental touch, reaching out to put his hand on Jon’s hip, taking a step forward. Jon does nothing against it, gaze entirely caught on Martin, and then he speaks finally. “Yes. Sort of. I-it’s complicated. I’m still a he. Just- also not?”

Martin considers, and then looks up at Jon. “Well, this is a side of you that I don’t know,” he starts. Jon tilts his head. “I want to get to know it. If you’ll let me,” Martin says softly, stepping forward again so he’s just barely pressed against Jon.

Jon stands frozen, apparently shocked by this turn of events. Martin doesn’t push him, letting him adjust to the fact that his fears of being scorned for being genderfluid aren’t true, and simply waits.

Finally, it comes. Jon relaxes, brown eyes filling with warmth and fondness, and his hand comes up to Martin’s on his hip until he can lace their fingers together. “Okay,” he says, and starts to turn to the couch to walk towards it with Martin.

Martin smiles. “Right now, what do you want me to call you?” he asks first.

Jon pauses. “They,” they say finally, sitting down on the couch next to Martin.

“And that changes, along with what you wear.”

Jon nods. “When I wear skirts, it’s usually- I call it a ‘they’ day, though it ranges, I guess? The eyeliner and eyeshadow- it’s, I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s like I just want to be a little more feminine without the actual shift? It’s always there, though the desire to want to be called they varies almost daily.” They lean back and sigh, closing their eyes. “It’s really complex.”

Martin rubs his thumb along one of the rings on Jon’s fingers. “That’s fine. I’m here to listen, if you want to explain.”

Jon nods. “I do. You’re-“ they give a little laugh, “-you’re possibly the only person I want to fully explain to, that I trust to understand.”

“Well,” Martin says, smiling, “you have me right here, and I’ll try to understand as best I can.”

Jon smiles, opening their eyes. “Thank you, Martin.”

“It’s you, Jon, and I love you,” he replies softly, gaze warm.

Jon closes their eyes again, then they open them and sit up, and Martin listens as they start explaining.

It’s hours later that they’ve finished a movie and Jon has predictably fallen asleep in Martin’s lap, curled up like a cat. Basic routine - carry them to bed, except the difference in the routine is this time, Martin takes a cloth from the bathroom and gently wipes off the eyeshadow and eyeliner, and he takes the rings off as well, setting them on the nightstand. Jon curls up contentedly against Martin when he’s finally in bed and underneath the blankets.

“I love you,” Martin says softly, studying the planes of Jon’s face in the moonlight as he lays facing them. “ All of you.”

There’s a quiet hum after a few moments. “I know,” Jon mumbles.

Martin feels Jon’s hand against his under the covers, feels their fingers lace with his. There’s a slight metal bump, a ring Martin must’ve missed when he was himself half-asleep, and he spends the time thumbing the smooth warmth of it until he falls asleep next to Jon, limbs tangled with theirs.

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

--

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.